Page 21 of Elsewhere

"You're welcome," Thandi replies. "But you know, Elizabeth, it isn't right that you don't return a person's call for months and months, and when you finally get it in your head to call, you're only asking about someone else. No apology. Not even a single 'How you doing, Thandi?' "

"I'm sorry, Thandi. How are you?" Liz asks. Despite appearances, Liz does feel guilty that she's ignored Thandi.

"Fine," Thandi answers.

"It hasn't been the best time for me," Liz apologizes.

"You think it's easy for me? You think it's easy for any of us?" Thandi hangs up on Liz.

Liz takes the bus down to the Elsewhere docks. Sure enough, she spots Curtis right away, fishing pole in one hand, cup of coffee in the other. He's wearing a faded red plaid shirt, and his formerly pale skin has a golden hue. His blue hair is almost completely grown out, but his blue eyes remain as vivid as ever. Liz doesn't know if Curtis will remember her. Luckily, he smiles as soon as he sees her.

"Hello, Lizzie," Curtis says. "How's the afterlife treating you?" He pours Liz a cup of coffee from a red thermos. He indicates that she should sit next to him on the dock.

"I wanted to ask you a question," Liz says.

"That sounds serious." Curtis sits up straighter. "I shall do my best to answer you, Lizzie."

"You were honest with me before, back on the boat," Liz says.

"They say a man should always be as honest as he can."

Liz lowers her voice. "I need to make Contact with someone. Can you help me?"

"Are you sure you know what you're doing?"

Liz is prepared for this question and is armed with several appropriate lies. "I'm not obsessed or anything. I like it here, Curtis. I just have one thing back on Earth that needs taking care of."

"What is it?" Curtis asks.

"It's something about my death." Liz hesitates a moment before telling Curtis the whole story of the hit-and-run cabbie.

After she finishes, Curtis is silent for a moment. Then he says, "I don't know why you thought I would know about this."

"You seem like a person who knows things," says Liz. "Besides, there's no one else I can ask."

Curtis smiles. "I have heard that there are two ways to communicate with the living. One, you can try to find a ship back to Earth, although I doubt this would be a very practical solution for you. It takes a long time to get there and, from what I hear, tends to pervert the reverse-aging process.

Plus, you don't exactly want to be a ghost, now, do you?"

Liz shakes her head, remembering how she contemplated that very thing on the day she arrived in Elsewhere. "What's the second way?"

"I have heard of a place, about a mile out to sea and several miles deep. Apparently, this is the deepest place in the ocean. People call it the Well."

Liz remembers Aldous Ghent mentioning the Well on her first day in Elsewhere. She also remembers him saying that going there was forbidden. "I think I've heard of it," she says.

"Supposedly, if you can reach the bottom of this place, a difficult task indeed, you will find a window where you can penetrate to Earth."

"How is that different from the ODs?" Liz asks.

"The binoculars only go one way. At the Well, they say the living can sense you, see you, hear you."

"Then I can talk to them?"

"Yes, that's what I've heard," says Curtis, "but it will be difficult for them to understand you. Your voice is obscured from being underwater. You need good equipment to make the dive, and even then you should be a good swimmer."

Liz sips her coffee, contemplating what Curtis has told her. She is a strong swimmer. Last summer she and her mother had even gotten scuba certification together on Cape Cod. Could that have only been a year ago? Liz wonders.

"I'm not sure that I've done the right thing in telling you this information, but you probably would have found out from someone else anyway. I'm afraid I've never been very good at knowing the right thing to do. Or at least knowing it and doing it."

"Thank you," Liz says.

"Be careful," Curtis says. He surprises Liz by hugging her. "I must ask you, are you sure you should be doing this? Maybe it would be best to leave well enough alone."

"I have to do this, Curtis. I don't have any choice."

"Lizzie, my love, there's always a choice."

Liz doesn't want to argue with Curtis, especially after he's been so nice to her, but she can't help herself. "I didn't choose to die," she says, "so in that instance, there was no choice."

"No, of course you didn't," Curtis says. "I suppose I meant there's always a choice in situations where one has a choice, if that makes any sense."

"Not really," Liz says.

"Well, I shall have to work on my philosophy and get back to you, Lizzie. I find there's much time for philosophizing when one fishes for a living."

Liz nods. As she walks away from the dock, she realizes she forgot to ask Curtis why he had become a fisherman in the first place.

The Big Dive

Liz throws herself into preparations for the big dive. Although she hadn't noticed at the time, her daily routine at the Observation Decks had become less and less satisfying: each day blending into the one before it, bleary images that seemed to become blearier and blearier, her eyes strained, her back sore. She now experiences the renewed energy of a person with a mission.

Liz's walk is faster. Her heart pumps more strongly. Her appetite increases. She rises early and goes to bed late. For the first time since arriving in Elsewhere, Liz feels almost, well, alive.

Curtis had said the Well was "a mile out to sea," but he hadn't specified exactly where. After two days of eavesdropping at the ODs and indirect questioning of Esther, Liz finds out that the Well is thought to be somehow linked to the lighthouses and the ODs and that, to get there, she needs to swim in the path of one of the lighthouses' beams.

To buy the diving equipment, Liz "borrows" another 750 eternims from Betty.

"What do you need them for?" Betty asks.

"Clothes," Liz lies, although she thinks of her lie as partially true. A wet suit is clothes, right? "If I'm going to look for an avocation, I'm going to need something to wear."

"What happened to the last five hundred I gave you?"

"I still have those," Liz lies again. "I haven't spent them yet, but I think I'll probably need more. I don't have a single thing except for these pajamas and the T-shirt you got me."

"Do you want me to come with you?" Betty offers.

"I'd prefer to go on my own," Liz says.

"I could make you clothes, you know. I am a seamstress," Betty says.

"Mmm, that's a really nice offer, but I think I'd prefer things from the store."

So Betty relents, although she is fairly certain Liz is lying about what happened to the last five hundred eternims. Betty is doing her best to (1) be patient, and (2) provide Liz a space in which to grieve, and (3) wait for Liz to come to her. This is what it says to do in How to Talk to Your Recently Deceased Teen, the book Betty is currently reading. Betty forces a smile. "I'll drop you off at the East Elsewhere Mall," she says.

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