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.
Liz agrees (the dive store is there anyway) but for obvious reasons says she will take the bus back.
The diving tank Liz buys is smaller and lighter than any tank she and her mother ever had on Earth. It's called an Infinity Tank, and the salesman promises Liz that it will never run out of oxygen. As a nod to Betty, Liz also buys one pair of jeans and one long-sleeved T-shirt.
Liz hides the equipment underneath her bed. She feels guilty about lying to Betty but deems the lies necessary evils. She had considered telling Betty about the dive but knew that Betty would only worry. She doesn't need Betty worrying any more than she already does.
It has been a year since Liz's last dive on Earth. She wonders if she will have forgotten all the procedures in the intervening time. She considers making a practice dive, but ultimately decides against it. If she is going to do this, she knows she needs to do it now.
Because going to the Well is forbidden, Liz decides to leave just after sunset. She packs her equipment in a large garbage bag and wears her wet suit under her new jeans and long-sleeved T-shirt.
"Is that what you bought today?" Betty asks.
Liz nods.
"It's nice to see you out of your pajamas." Betty moves to get a better look at Liz. "I'm not sure if the fit is right, though." Betty tries to adjust Liz's T-shirt, but Liz pulls away.
"It's fine!" Liz insists.
"Okay, okay. You'll show me the other things you bought in the morning?"
Liz nods, but looks away.
"Where are you going anyway?" Betty asks.
"That girl Thandi is throwing a party," Liz lies.
"Well, have a good time!" Betty smiles at Liz. "What's in the garbage bag, by the way?"
"Just some stuff for the party." Liz finds telling lies easy now that she's started. The only problem (as many before Liz have discovered) is that she has to keep telling more and more of them.
After Liz has left, Betty decides to go into Liz's room to examine Liz's new clothes. She finds the closet empty, but under the bed she finds a cardboard box with the words infinity tank on it.
Remembering Liz's bulky outfit and her big plastic bag, Betty decides to go find her granddaughter. In How to Talk to Your Recently Deceased Teen, it also says that you need to know when to stop giving your teen space.
Before diving, Liz returns to the OD for a final look at Amadou Bonamy. She wants to see him one last time before turning him in.
From behind her glass box, Esther frowns. "You haven't been here in a few days. I was hoping you were quit of this place," she says.
Liz walks past her without answering.
Someone is sitting at Binoculars #15, Liz's usual spot, so she is forced to use #14.
She places a single eternim in the slot and begins to watch Amadou Bonamy. Amadou's cab is vacant, and he's speeding to get somewhere. He parks in front of an elementary school, the same one Liz's brother attends, and runs out of the car. He's walking through the building. He's running through the building. A teacher stands with a small boy wearing glasses at the end of the corridor.
"He threw up in the wastebasket," the teacher says. "He didn't want us to call you."
Amadou gets down on one knee. "Is it your tummy, my little one?" He speaks with a soft FrenchHaitian accent.
The boy nods.
"I'll drive you home, wi bÈbÈ?"
"Don't you have to drive your cab today?" the boy asks.
"Non, non. I will make up the fares tomorrow." Amadou lifts the boy in his arms and winks at the teacher. "Thank you for calling me."
The binoculars click closed.
Liz's heart races. She wants to punch someone or break something. Either way, she needs to get out of the Observation Deck immediately.
Outside, the beach is deserted. She takes off her jeans and T-shirt, but she makes no move to get in the water and begin her dive. She just sits, knees to her chest, and thinks about Amadou and his little boy. And the more she thinks about them, the more confused she feels. And the more she thinks about them, the more she wants to stop thinking about them.
Someone calls her name. "Liz!" It's Betty.
"How did you know I would be here?" Liz asks. She avoids Betty's eyes.
"I didn't. The only place I knew for sure you wouldn't be was a party at Thandi's."
Liz nods.
"That was a joke, by the way." Betty looks at Liz's wet suit. "Actually, I found the empty tank box in your room and I thought you might be planning to make Contact."
"Are you angry?" Liz asks.
"At least I know what you spent the money on," Betty says. "That was another joke, by the way. In this book I'm reading, it says that humor is a good way to cope with a difficult situation."
"What book?" Liz asks.
"It's called How to Talk to Your Recently Deceased Teen."
"Is it helping?"
"Not really." Betty shakes her head. "In all seriousness, Liz, I certainly wish you hadn't lied to me, but I'm not angry. I wish you had come to me, but I know it isn't easy for you right now. You probably have your reasons."
Affected by Betty's words, Liz thinks that Amadou probably had his reasons, too. "I saw the man who was driving the cab. The cab that hit me, I mean," Liz says.
"What was he like?"
"He seemed nice." Liz pauses. "Did you know I was a hit-and-run?"
"Yes," Betty replies.
"Why didn't he stop? I mean, if he's a good person. He seems like one."
"I'm sure he is, Liz. People, you'll find, aren't usually all good or all bad. Sometimes they're a little bit good and a whole lot bad. And sometimes, they're mostly good with a dash of bad. And most of us, well, we fall in the middle somewhere."
Liz starts to cry, and Betty takes Liz in her arms. All at once, Liz knows she won't tell anyone that Amadou was the driver of the lucky cab today or any other day. She knows it won't help anything. She suspects that Amadou is a good person. There must have been a good reason he didn't stop. And even if there wasn't, Liz suddenly remembers something else, something that she had not wanted to remember in all this time.
"Betty," Liz says through tears, "that day at the mall, I didn't look both ways when I was crossing the street. The traffic light had already turned green, but I didn't see it because I was thinking about something else."
"What was it?" Betty asks.
"It's so stupid. I was thinking about my watch, how I should have brought it with me to the mall to be repaired. I kept forgetting to do it. I was deciding whether I had enough time to turn around and go back for it, but I couldn't make up my mind, because I didn't know what time it was because my watch was broken. It was a big, meaningless circle. Oh Betty, this was my fault. This was all my fault, and now I'm stuck here forever!"
"It only seems like forever," Betty says gently. "It's really only fifteen years."
"It won't make me alive again if he goes to prison," Liz whispers. "Nothing can ever do that."
"So you forgive him?"
"I don't know. I want to, but . . ." Liz's voice trails off. She feels empty. Anger and revenge gave her heft. Without her old friends to prop her up, she's only left with a single question: what now? !
"Let's go home," Betty says. Betty picks up the garbage bag with one hand and brushes the sand off Liz's wet suit with the other.
They take the long way back to the house. The summer air is warm, and Liz's wet suit sticks to her skin.
On one lawn, a boy and a girl run through the sprinklers even though it's after dark.
In a porch swing, a very old man, hunched and shriveled, holds hands with a beautiful, young redheaded woman. Liz thinks the old man might be the woman's grandfather until she watches the way the pair kisses. "Te amo," the redheaded woman whispers in the old man's ear. She gazes at the old man as if he's the most beautiful person in the world.
On another lawn, two boys of about the same age play catch with a worn-out baseball. "Should we go in?" the one boy pauses to ask the other.
"No way, Dad," the other boy answers, "let's keep playing."
"Yeah, let's play all night!" the first boy replies.
And so Liz really looks at Betty's street for the first time.
They stop outside Betty's brownstone, which is painted a bold shade of purple. (Strange as it may seem, Liz has never noticed this before.)
The summer air is thick with perfume from Betty's flowers. The scent, Liz thinks, is sweet and melancholy. A bit like dying, a bit like falling in love.
"I'm not going to the ODs anymore, Betty. I'm going to find an avocation, and when I do, I'll pay you back everything, I promise," Liz says.
Betty looks in Liz's eyes. "I believe you." Betty takes Liz's hand in hers. "And I appreciate that."
"I'm sorry about the money." Liz shakes her head. "All this time, I don't know if you've noticed . . .
The thing is, I think I may have been a little depressed."
"I know, doll," Betty replies, "I know."
"Betty," Liz asks, "why have you put up with me for so long?"
"At first, for Olivia, I suppose," Betty answers after a moment's reflection. "You look so like her."
"No one wants to be liked for who their mother is, you know," Liz says.
"I said, at first."
"So, it wasn't just for Mom's sake, then?"
"Of course not. It was for your own, doll. And mine. Mainly, for mine. I've been lonely for a very long time."
"Since you came to Elsewhere?"
"Longer than that, I'm afraid." Betty sighs. "Did your mother ever tell you why she and I argued?"
"You had an affair," Liz states, "and for a long time, Mom wouldn't forgive you."
"Yes, that's true. I was lonely then, and I've been lonely ever since."
"Have you considered maybe getting another boyfriend?" Liz asks tactfully.
Betty shakes her head and laughs. "I'm through with love, at least of the romantic kind. I've lived too long and seen too much."
"Mom forgave you, you know. I mean, I was named after you, wasn't I?"
"Maybe. I think she just felt sad when I died. And now, I suggest we both go to bed."
************************************
For the first time, Liz sleeps a dreamless sleep. Before, she had always dreamed of Earth.
When she wakes in the morning, Liz calls Aldous Ghent about the position at the Division of Domestic Animals.
Your first real job!" Betty crows. "How marvelous, doll! Remind me to take your picture when we get there."
Hearing no response, Betty glances over at Liz in the passenger seat. "You're certainly quiet this morning," she says.
"I'm just thinking," Liz answers. She hopes she won't get fired on her first day.
Aside from the odd babysitting job, Liz never had a "real job" before. Not that she would have minded having a job. She even offered to get one at the mall when Zooey had, but her parents wouldn't let her. "School's your job," her father was fond of saying.
And her mother was in agreement: "You have your whole life to work." Liz's mother certainly had been wrong about that one, Liz thinks with a smirk.
What troubles her is this business of speaking Canine. What if she couldn't pick it up and was fired soon thereafter?
"I remember my first job," Betty says. "I was a hatcheck girl at a nightclub in New York City. I was seventeen years old, and I had to lie and say I was eighteen. I made fifty-two dollars a week, which seemed like a great deal of money to me at the time." Betty smiles at the memory.
As Liz gets out of the car, Betty snaps her picture with an old Polaroid camera. "Smile, doll!" Betty commands. Liz forces her mouth muscles into a position that she hopes will resemble a smile.
"Have a nice day, Liz! I'll pick you up at five!" Betty waves.
Liz nods tensely. She watches Betty's red car drive away, fighting the urge to run after it. The Division of Domestic Animals is housed in a large A-frame building across the street from the Registry. The building is known as the Barn. Liz knows she has to go inside, but she finds she can't move. She breaks into a sweat, and her stomach feels jittery. Somehow, it reminds her of the first day of school. She takes a deep breath and walks to the entrance. After all, the only way to absolutely ensure things will go badly is to be late.
Liz opens the door. She sees a harried woman with kind green eyes and a mass of frizzy red hair.
The woman's denim overalls are covered in a mix of dog hair, cat hair, and what appears to be greenish feathers. She holds out her hand for Liz to shake. "I'm Josey Wu, the head of the DDA.
Are you Aldous's friend Elizabeth?"
"Liz."
"Hope you don't mind dog hair, Liz."
"Nah, it's just a little present dogs like to leave behind."
Josey smiles. "Well, we've got a lot to do today, Liz, and you can start by changing into these."
She tosses Liz a pair of denim overalls.
In the bathroom where Liz changes into the overalls, a medium-sized, rather rangy, blondish dog of indeterminate lineage (in other words, a mutt) is drinking from a toilet.
"Hey, girl," Liz says to the dog, "you don't have to drink from there."
The dog looks up at her. After a moment, the dog cocks her head curiously and speaks. "Isn't that what it's for?" she asks. "Why else would they fill a low basin thingy with water? You can even get fresh water by pressing this little handle, right?" The dog demonstrates, flushing the toilet with her left paw.
"No," says Liz gently, "it's actually a toilet."
"Toilet?" the dog asks. "What's that?"
"Well, it's a place where people go."
"Go? Go where?"
"Not where,'' Liz says delicately.
The dog looks at the bowl. "Good Lord," she says, "you mean to say all this time I've been drinking from a place where humans pee and . . . ?" She looks on the verge of throwing up. "Why didn't anyone ever tell me? I've been drinking from toilets for years. I never knew. They always had the door closed."
"Here," says Liz, "let me get you some fresh water from the sink." Liz locates a little bowl and fills it with water. "Here, girl!"
The dog laps up the water excitedly. After she is finished, she licks Liz on the leg. "Thanks. Now that I'm thinking about it, I think my two-leggers tried to tell me about the whole toilet thing before.
My man, Billy he was called, was quite conscientious about shutting the lid." Lick lick lick. "Had I known, I certainly would have stopped drinking from toilets a long time ago," she says. "I'm Sadie, by the way. What are you called?"
"Liz."
"Nice to meet you, Liz." Sadie holds out her paw for Liz to shake. "I just died last week. It's weird here."
"How did you die?" Liz asks.
"I was chasing a ball and I got hit by a car," Sadie says.
"I was hit by a car, too," says Liz, "only I was on a bike."
"Did you have a dog?" Sadie wants to know.
"Oh yes, Lucy was my best friend in the whole world."
"You want a new dog?" Sadie cocks her head.
"You mean you, don't you, girl?" Liz asks.
Sadie lowers her head shyly.
"I don't know if my grandmother will let me, but I'll ask tonight, all right?"
Josey enters the bathroom. "Great, Liz, I'm glad to see you met Sadie," Josey says as she scratches the dog between the ears. "Sadie is your first advisee."
Sadie nods her soft yellow head.
"Aldous didn't mention you speak Canine, by the way," Josey says.
"About that," Liz stammers, "I don't."
"What do you mean?" asks Josey. "I just heard you have a whole conversation with Sadie."
And then it dawns on Liz. She was speaking to Sadie.
Liz grins. "I've never spoken it before. Or at least, I never knew I was."
"Well, looks like you're a natural. Remarkable! I've only met a handful of natural Canine speakers in my whole life. You're sure you weren't taught somewhere?"
Liz shakes her head. "I just always seemed to understand dogs, and they always seemed to understand me." She thinks of Lucy. She thinks of that dog in the park. "I never knew it was a language, though. I never knew it was a skill."
"Well, looks like you were destined to work here, Liz," Josey says, patting Liz on the back. "Come on, let's step into my office. If you'll excuse us, Sadie."
Sadie looks at Liz. "You'll remember to ask your grandmother, right?"
"I promise." Liz scratches Sadie between the ears and leaves the bathroom.
"So, as a counselor for the Division of Domestic Animals, your job basically entails explaining to the new dog arrivals everything about life on Elsewhere and then placing them in new homes. For some of the dogs, speaking to you will be the first conversation they've ever had with a human. It can get rather hairy, in both senses of the word." This is obviously not the first time Josey has made this joke.
"Is it very difficult?" Liz asks.
"Not really. Dogs are a lot more flexible than humans, and even though we don't always understand dogs, dogs understand us pretty well," Josey replies. "Since you already speak Canine, you're halfway there, Liz. Everything else you can learn as you go along."
"What about other animals?" Liz asks.
"As a DDA counselor, you'll mainly deal in dogs, of course, but within our division, we also deal with all household pets: cats, some pigs, the occasional snake, guinea pigs, and so on. The fish are the worst; they die so quickly, they spend most of their time just swimming back and forth."
At that moment Sadie pokes her head into Josey's office. "You haven't forgotten, right?"
"No, but I'm sort of busy right now, Sadie," Liz answers. Sadie lowers her head and slinks out the door.
Josey laughs, then whispers, "You know, you can't take all the dogs home with you."
"I heard that!" Sadie calls out from the other room.
"And you'll find they all have excellent hearing," Josey says. "Let's find you an office, Liz."
After Sadie, Liz's next advisee is an insecure little Chihuahua named Paco.
"But where's Pete?" Paco asks, his intense little eyes darting around Liz's new windowless office.
"I'm sorry, but you probably won't see Pete anytime soon. He's still on Earth," Liz says to Paco.
"Do you think Pete's mad at me?" Paco asks. "I sometimes pee in his shoes when he leaves me home alone too long, but I don't think he notices. Maybe he notices? Do you think he notices? I'm a bad, bad, bad dog."
"I'm sure Pete isn't mad at you. You can't see him because you died."
"Oh," says Paco softly.
Finally, Liz thinks to herself. "Do you understand now?" Liz asks.
"I think so," says Paco, "but where's Pete?"
Liz sighs. After a moment, she begins her explanation one more time. "You know, Paco, for the longest time, I wasn't sure where I was either ..."
When Liz leaves work that night, Sadie follows her to Betty's car.
"Who's this?" Betty asks.
"This is Sadie," Liz says. And then she lowers her voice. "Is it all right?"
Sadie looks expectantly at Betty.
Betty smiles. "Seems like Sadie's already made up her mind." Sadie licks Betty's face. "Oy!
Welcome to the family, Sadie. I'm Betty."
"Hi, Betty!" Sadie hops into the backseat. "Did I tell you that I was named for a Beades song? My full name's Sexy Sadie, actually, but you don't have to call me Sexy unless you want to. I mean, it's a little presumptuous, don't you think?"
"What's she saying?" Betty asks Liz.
"Sadie says she's named after some Beades song," Liz translates.
"Oh sure, I know that song." Betty sings, " 'Sexy Sadie, what have you done?' Or something like that, right?"
"That's the song!" Sadie says. "That's exactly it!" She places a paw on Betty's shoulder. "Betty, you're a genius!" Sadie barks a few bars of the song.
Liz laughs again, a pretty, twinkly laugh.
"What a lovely laugh you have, Liz," Betty says. "I'm not sure I've ever heard it before."