“Your problem is not my problem” the old woman selling handcrafted jewelry says to me. I’m standing in the humid, busy metro station right under Grand Central Station. There is only two weeks until Christmas, and with my typical procrastinator mindset, I haven’t bought any gifts for my family yet. With inflation nowadays, everything in New York is expensive. Trying to find a thoughtful, yet inexpensive gift is impossible. As I was leaving the subway, at the bottom of the stairs leading to the exit I noticed a cardboard sign made out of a pizza box that was falling apart, and barely readable. It said “EVERYTHING IS TEN DOLLARS OR LESS. NO REFUNDS.” Ten dollars in the city is like five dollars back home upstate.
Nothing better than a bargain I thought to myself as I made my way over to the seller.
The woman selling the jewelry was no younger than seventy, sitting on a lawn chair next to her goods. She was bundled up in multitudes of mismatched layers, with different colored mittens and a scruffy hat with a pom pom on the top of her head. I said hello, but she didn’t acknowledge me. Typical New Yorker. All the jewelry she had was laid out on top of blankets that were spread on the grimey subway floor.
Kneeling down to look at what she had, a locket immediately caught my eye. Picking it up, I looked inside and there was a photo of a woman wearing a bonnet and heavy dress in black and white. The portrait couldn’t be less than one hundred years old. Turning it around, the price tag said four dollars. Four dollars was an unbeatable price here, so I immediately turned around and handed the woman four one dollar bills. She took the money, put it in her pocket and said nothing. I thanked her and started making my way up the stairs while putting the locket around my neck.
On my way home, I stopped at the bodega closest to my apartment. I was craving a pack of gum, and I knew they would have it. Walking in, I went right to the counter and grabbed the gum. The heavyset man working the register was about a foot taller than me and had tattoos covering his body. Before even scanning the gum, he pushed the gum back towards me. “Minimum purchase is five dollars or no sale.” I took the gum as I sighed and made my way to the back of the store, passing the flickering “World’s Best Bodega” sign. I let out a soft chuckle. This bodega looks like a basement, and there’s never anyone here. The dim lights flicker as the music gets quieter while I make my way to the back of the store. Staring at the glowing wall of beverage refrigerators, I look for the cheapest drink. The last cooler at the end of the row has water. Score. Opening the door to the fridge, I reach for the last water bottle that’s left, and it’s stuck. Pulling on the bottle, the door pushes itself back and reveals what looks like a different world. Stepping inside, I see a huge corridor that looks no less than one hundred years old. What the… I let out a quiet “Hello?”, but no one answers. I turn back to go back into the bodega, and the fridge door is gone. “Hello?!” I shout loudly now. Walking further into the corridor of what looks like an old mansion, I notice the photographs on the walls. Children, animals, and landscapes line the walls. I walk up to a picture of a barn in a field. The photo is black and white, and the edges are frayed. Beneath the photo, a plaque reads
“The Youngs’ Cow Barn, 1936”
I walk to the next photo. Two little kids. A girl and a boy, captioned
“Henrietta and Earl Youngs, 1940”
I keep walking. This hallway feels endless. The next photograph I see stands out. It’s bigger than the rest of them, and sits in an ornate, large frame. It can’t be. I reach behind my neck to unclip my locket and I hold it up next to the painting. They’re identical. The plaque reads:
“Mrs. Eleanor Youngs, 1940”
I stand there frozen, completely mind boggled. As I’m standing still, I hear someone. Running. I whip my head around and see her. Eleanor Youngs. The same woman from the picture. Her voice gets louder as she gets closer. “INTRUDER! GET OUT OF MY HOUSE!” Shaking in fear, I start running the other way, back towards the fridge from the bodega. Remembering that the door disappeared behind me earlier. I start panicking. Running while this woman is chasing behind me, I see a door. This door doesn’t look like the fridge though, this one looks different. It’s a subway door. The motion sensored door slides open as I frantically sit down, while the door closes behind me, leaving Eleanor behind. The car is empty, which is extremely unusual for New York at Christmas. The conductor comes onto the intercom. “Next stop, Grand Central Station. Doors will open on the right” I take a sigh of relief. Finally, Normality.
When the subway stops. I get off and it’s like nothing ever happened. Seeing the same woman selling her jewelry near the exit, I started walking up to her to ask her what the story was with the locket. I reach to pull it off, but it’s not there. What? I look in my pockets and bag, and no sign of it. I approach the woman, but like usual, she doesn’t say anything. “Hi, not to bother you- but I was jus-” I cut myself off because something catches my eye. I kneel down, and sure enough, the locket that I had bought was there again, waiting to be bought. I pick it up and look inside. It’s the same picture. The price tag is still attached. Didn’t I just buy this? I walk up to the woman, ready to confront her. “Excuse me, but I was just here an hour ago and bought this. I lost it and now it shows up here– again. What’s the deal with that? You’re just going to pickpocket your own goods off customers just to resell them?” She grunts. “That’s never sold. I don’t scam people.” Great. “I was just here an hour ago and bought this.” Her expressionless face looks up at me. “Maam, I know who buys things from me, because I get about five customers a day. I remember faces, and I can tell you that I’ve never seen you before. I will sell you the necklace, but please, calm down.” I’m worked up now. “Fine! I’ll take it. Maybe don’t scam me this time” I force the bills into the lady’s hand and storm off frustrated.
Walking home, I stop in my local bodega for some gum, and this time I know that I need at least five dollars worth of goods. I make my way to the beverage section in the back. After what happened earlier, I opt for a Coke instead of a water. Opening the cooler, I reach for a coke, and it’s not budging. “Not again” I mutter as the door opens into the same hallway. Preparing for Eleanor to find me again I start running, and I see the subway door on the right. I get on to the empty car and hear the conductor on the intercom, again. “Next stop, Grand Central Station. Doors will open on the right.” Ugh. I just want to be at home. Practically running out of the subway, I reach for the locket to ensure it’s still there, but it’s not. Storming up to the woman selling jewelry, I start going off. “Alright. Now you’ve scammed me twice. I jus-” I stop as I see it. My locket on the ground is being sold, again. The woman glares up at me. “Maam, I have never seen you before. I can assure you that you haven’t been scammed.” “This locket has done this to me twice now! I’m going to call the police and report you. “Maam, your problem is not my problem. I’ve told you, I don’t recognize you. I’ve never sold that locket” Running off in frustration, something stops me. Why was I so rude to that woman? Guilt starts to flood my thoughts. What if the woman is being honest, and I’m in the wrong? I turn around and walk back. I quietly start to apologize. “Hey, I’m sorry I acted like a jerk. My day has been crazy and I took it out on you. I feel awful.” I pull out a crisp twenty out of my wallet and hand it to her. “Here. Get yourself a treat for the holidays.” She takes the money and nods. “Thank you” she whispers. I nod, and start jogging up the exit stairs. Before I can tell what’s happening, the stair catches my toe, and I fall hard. My head pounds and I can’t feel anything.
“Excuse me, miss” I feel someone tapping my arm. My eyes squint open enough to see the EMT with a notepad standing above me. He reaches for his walkie talkie clipped onto his suspenders. “She’s conscious. Possible concussion.” I start to stir a little more. And fully open my eyes. I see a bright flickering sign next to me. “World’s Best Bodega” it says. What? Why am I in the bodega?” I look at the ground next to me. A pack of gum is sitting next to me, with some loose cash beside it. Reaching up to feel my head, my hand brushes something cold. The locket. I’m so confused. I hear the murmur of the EMT’s next to me. “What happened? Why am I here?” I ask, genuinely confused. “You slipped on some water that was leaking from the ceiling. Hit your head pretty good against this sign. You’ve been out cold for a few hours now.” Wait, I’m not in a time loop? I dreamt it all? This can’t be right. I ask one of the men if they could take the locket off my neck for me. The man with the notepad obliges, and right before he can put it somewhere, I ask him to grab me a water bottle from the fridge in the back. He happily agrees, and is off to get a water bottle with the locket in hand. It’s taking longer than usual for him to get it. I start questioning if the suspicious locket got him too, but he comes bolting around the corner saying “Sorry that took a while, there was only one left way in the back.” Weird I think to myself. As I start to take in my surroundings, I see something that catches my eye. The same woman from the subway station is at the counter, with a cup of steaming hot chocolate. She hands the cashier a crisp twenty, looks at me, and winks.