Jet Lag

Jake woke with a start to find himself seated at an island in a kitchen that wasn't his, miraculously balanced on a four-legged stool. The way his temples throbbed, he was lucky not to be lying concussed on the vinyl floor. He lifted his head from the counter, and its coolness remained on his cheek as he looked around. With some relief, Jake saw it was a room he knew.

This was the Embassy Suites in Seattle, a place his boss liked to put him during business trips. It was a pain in the ass to haul himself from coast-to-coast every time the higher-ups felt like having an "all hands" meeting. Jake's boss, genuinely grateful to have someone to send in his stead, was usually able to comp an extra night so he could get a bit of R&R. At the moment, Jake couldn't remember whether today was "business" or "pleasure." Mentally, he crossed his fingers.

"Hey, Siri? Would you read my to-do list, please?" Being polite to the robot made him feel a little less alone in the room. According to his "assistant," the only item on the list read: jet lag.

Excellent. Today must be the free day, Jake thought as he put his head back into his arms on the counter. For a few moments all he could think about was the headache. Slowly, the brain-fog began to lift, and then...

Jake remembered that he hadn't been on a business trip since before the pandemic.

He turned his head and looked at his watch. Jake was wearing a watch, but it wasn't the one he expected. Instead of the sleek, backlit touchscreen, there was a gold-colored analog watch that looked more expensive than it was. Being what it was, the only help it could give him was the day of the month, peeking through a window next to 3 o'clock. The number in the box was 6.

Jake started to feel nervous. He rose, slowly. "Hey, Siri?" he called urgently, "What's the date?"

"Today is Friday, March 6th, 2020."

That was four years ago, but it may as well have been ten. That was before the guest room of his house was converted into an office. Before he impulse-bought an Apple Watch. That was several-pounds-and-a-pant-size ago. It was an intentionally-forgotten number of funerals ago. Jake hadn't been able to attend all of them, so maybe more like "number of sympathy cards ago."

He followed some kind of instinct to look out the window. It was COVID, not the apocalypse. Even if this were the middle of March, the buildings would still be there, whether occupied or not. During the pandemic the streets would have been almost empty, but pre-COVID traffic would look the same as 2024. Still, it was reassuring to see downtown Seattle as populated as it should be during business hours on a Friday.

Jake set the coffee maker to heat water for a cup of tea, then went to the television and turned on CNN. Their lower-third confirmed what Siri had said: Friday, March 6th, 2020.

Was he dreaming? He sank into the couch as jet lag began to settle in. Could he feel exhaustion in a dream? If awake, Jake couldn't begin to guess how this was possible. A hundred questions blinked in and out of his tired mind. What should he do now? What could he do?

It was impossible to prioritize. There were people he should call. There were people he could warn. He only had a few days head start, but that might be enough time to make a difference. If this was real, Jake had the opportunity to save so many lives.

He tried to focus. He needed to start at the beginning: the details of his travel, what he did when he got back, who he spoke to.

Who he spoke to. The headache migrated to his gut as he filled in the details of that last business trip before the pandemic. Jake poured himself a mug of hot water and put a Sleepytime teabag in to steep.

"Siri, could you -- could you call my grandmother, please?"

The phone rang for so long, Jake wondered if he'd misremembered something. Eventually, one of the staff members answered. "Hi, Jake. Just a moment. We're just getting her back into her chair."

His mouth twitched a hesitant smile. Of course she was still alive.

"Jake! Hello! How was your flight?"

He cleared his throat. "Uh, good! It was good. It was very long."

"And how long are you going to be in town?"

"Grandma," Jake felt like a little kid trying to sound grown-up. "I'm really sorry, Grandma, but we're going to need to take a rain check. Some things came up and they really need me back at the office as soon as possible to put out some fires."

"Oh. Well... Well that's okay, Jake. Don't worry about it. You'll catch me next time."

"Next time," he repeated with an almost breathless chuckle. "We'll make it sooner than 'next time', Grandma. I promise. Tell Mom I said hello, and I love her, and I love you, and I'll see you both just as soon as I can."

After the goodbyes, Jake settled on the massive hotel bed with his tea. That was two, hopefully of many. The rest could wait until tomorrow. He had about 15 hours of jet lag to sleep off, courtesy of his boss's-boss's-bosses in Beijing.

He took a sip of the herbal tea that was supposed to taste like chamomile and spearmint and about five other plants. The liquid was hot and felt good in his throat, but he couldn't taste or smell a thing.