Elsewhere (14 page)

How do you know you're in love with someone?" Liz asks Curtis Jest during both their lunch breaks.

Curtis raises an eyebrow. "Are you saying you're in love with someone?"

"It's a friend," Liz says stiffly.

Curtis smiles. "Are you saying you're in love with a friend? Are you trying to tell me something, Lizzie?"

Liz's cheeks burn. "My interests are purely anthropological," she replies.

"Anthropological, eh?" His eyes dance in what Liz considers an inappropriate manner.

"If you aren't going to be serious, I'm leaving!" She is indignant.

"My, aren't we touchy! What's a little mirth between friends, Lizzie?" As he is getting nowhere with Liz's mood, Curtis relents. "Oh all right, darling, let's talk about love."

"So?"

"In my humble opinion, love is when a person believes that he, she, or it can't live without some other he, she, or it. You are a clever girl, and I imagine this is nothing you haven't heard before."

"But, Curtis," she protests, "we're dead! We have to live without people all the time, and we don't stop loving them, and they don't stop loving us."

"I said believes. No one actually needs another person or another person's love to survive. Love, Lizzie, is when we have irrationally convinced ourselves that we do."

"But, Curtis, doesn't it have anything to do with being happy and making each other laugh and having fun times?"

"Oh, Lizzie." Curtis laughs. "If only it were so!"

"It's very rude to laugh at a perfectly natural question," Liz says.

Curtis stops laughing. "I am sorry," he says, truly seeming sorry. "It's just that only someone who has never been in love would ask such a perfectly absurd question. I long ago decided to stay out of love's way, and I have since been a far happier man."

On the bus back to work, Liz thinks about what Curtis said. In a roundabout way, he answered her real question, Am I in love with Owen? The answer is no. Of course she isn't in love with him.

In retrospect she almost feels silly. For one, Owen is in love with his wife. And two, laughing, having fun, and being happy has nothing to do with being in love. Liz feels relieved. She can continue seeing Owen as much as she likes, safe in the belief that she doesn't love him and he doesn't love her. All this love business is trouble, anyhow.

Liz decides she is probably too young for romance. She will focus on work and her friends, and that will be the end of that.

Yes, in a way Liz is relieved. But in another way she isn't. In truth, she enjoyed entertaining the notion that Owen might love her, even a little bit.

The night after Liz mastered parallel parking, Owen finds himself with nothing to do. He spent nearly ten years alone and only three weeks with Liz. And yet he cannot remember what he used to do with his nights for the ten years before the three weeks. Owen stalks about his apartment.

He does the type of domestic things one does only when one is trying to fill up time: he cleans the space between the oven and refrigerator with a long wooden spoon that isn't long enough to accomplish its goal; he sweeps under his bed; he tries to read The Brothers Karamazov, the new translation that he's been trying to read since before he died without ever making it past page sixty-two; he tries to balance an egg on one end by placing a small mound of salt on his kitchen counter (it doesn't work); he carves a boat out of soap; and he throws out all the socks that have lost their partners. All that takes an hour, and then Owen collapses dejectedly on the couch.

"You should call Liz," Jen the Golden Retriever says to Owen. Unfortunately, Owen still does not speak Canine, so Jen's wisdom is lost on him.

"I bet Liz and Sadie are doing something fun," says Jen. "Why don't we go see them?"

Owen does not answer.

"Owen, you should really learn to speak Canine, because I could tell you a thing or two," Jen barks in exasperation. "You're in love with Liz, you know! It's perfectly obvious to everyone!" Jen scratches at the front door and howls. "Look what you've reduced me to!"

"Do you want to go out?" Owen asks her.

"Oh, you think?" Jen says sarcastically. "Come on, let's go! I'm taking you on a walk."

Jen runs Owen all the way across town, and before long, they find themselves in front of Liz's house.

Liz, Sadie, and Betty are all outside the house decorating for the holidays. Liz stands on a ladder, stapling Christmas lights to the roof. Sadie barks when she sees Jen and Owen approach.

"Hello, Jen! Hello, Owen!" Sadie says.

Owen smiles sheepishly at Liz. "It was Jen's idea, coming here. I don't want to bother you guys, or anything."

"You're no bother, Owen," Betty says. Betty's fondness for Owen has increased since he taught Liz how to parallel park. Betty has observed that driving lessons truly improved Liz's overall mood. "Liz, I can finish up. Why don't you go say hello to your friend?"

Liz climbs down from the ladder. "I was about to take a break anyway," she says coolly.

"I'm sorry," he apologizes, "it was Jen's idea. We should have called first."

"Thanks again for the lessons," Liz says in a slightlyfriendlier tone. "I'm sorry I was such a slow learner."

"It was my pleasure," he says, suddenly stiff and awkward. "When will you be getting your license?"

"Well, it turns out the Elsewhere DMV is mainly used to take people's licenses away. New ones are only issued on the second and fourth Tuesdays of the month and not at all in December. I have to wait until January."

Owen nods. "Good luck with that." He twists his wedding band around his finger, a nervous tic of his that Liz finds annoying.

"I should get back to helping Betty with the lights," Liz says. "Maybe you'll stop by my house again someday." Liz smiles and walks away.

Owen calls after her, "Maybe I'll stop by your house every day!"

Liz turns and looks Owen in the eye. "But I think my parallel parking's up to snuff, don't you?"

"We didn't really cover how to parallel park if you're on a hill. I doubt it'll come up, but "

"No," Liz interrupts, "it's better to be totally safe where parallel parking is concerned."

"That's what I've always thought," Owen says.

For Christmas, Liz gives Owen a book called How to Speak Canine. Owen gives Liz a pair of fuzzy dice to hang from her rearview mirror. (Or rather, her grandmother's rearview mirror, as Betty's is still the only car Liz drives other than Owen's.) For the weeks leading up to Liz's driver's license test, Owen and Liz practice parallel parking on all sorts of surfaces. They parallel park on dirt roads, by rivers, under bridges, on the highway, near stadiums, at the beach, and yes, on hills. As test day approaches, Liz finds herself almost hoping she might fail.

On the night before the test, Owen grabs Liz's hand as she is leaving the car.

"Liz, I like you very much," he says.

"Oh," she says, "I like you very much, too!"

Owen is not sure if she means "O" for Owen, or just plain "Oh." He is not sure what difference it would make in either case. He feels the need to clarify. "When I said 'I like you very much,' I actually meant 'I love you.' "

"O," she says, "I actually meant the same thing." She closes the car door behind her.

"Well," he says to himself, driving back to his apartment, "isn't that something?"

The next morning, Liz arrives at the Elsewhere DMV at seven o'clock, the first appointment of the day. She passes easily. The test administrator comments that Liz's parallel parking ranks among the "smoothest I have ever seen."

"Congratulations," Owen says to Liz that night, "but you know, there's one place we haven't practiced parking yet. You may have your license, but I won't feel totally safe until we've done it."

"Really? Where?" Liz asks.

"Be patient. You are my driving protegee, and I can't, in good conscience, release you into the world until we've done this last thing."

"All right." Liz shrugs. "Do you care to tell me where this driving rite of passage will take place?"

"No," Owen replies with a smile, "I do not."

So Owen and Liz get into Owen's car yet another time. Liz drives, and Owen gives an occasional direction. He finally tells her to stop in front of a red neon drive-in movie sign.

"Are we going to the movies?" Liz asks, looking up at the enormous movie screen.

"No," Owen says, as he pays the attendant, "we are practicing your driving."

"I think you're taking me to the movies," Liz insists. "I think you're taking me on a date."

"Well, you see things your way, and I see things mine." Owen laughs.

"Incidentally, what movie are we going to see while I practice my driving?"Liz asks.

"It's a remake of some love story. Natalie Wood's the girl, and River Phoenix plays the boy."

"Sounds good," Liz comments, "but I hate remakes."

"Luckily, you aren't here to see the movie."

After a quick stop to get popcorn and soda, Liz parks in the front row of cars. They eat their popcorn and wait for the movie to start. "I think it's strange," Liz says to Owen, "that you never call a thing by its name."

"What do you mean?"

"Well, when you invited me to dinner, you called it 'doing dishes.' And now you've done the nice thing of taking me to the movies and you call it 'practicing my driving.' "

"I'm sorry," Owen says.

"Oh, I'm not angry. I like it actually," Liz replies. "It's as if you're speaking in code. It gives me something to do. I've always got to decipher you."

"I'll try to speak more plainly from now on," Owen says.

As the movie starts, Owen whispers to Liz, "I thought maybe now that you've got your license, I might never see you again."

Liz rolls her eyes. "You're so stupid sometimes, Owen."

A week later, Owen and Liz find themselves at the drive-in again.

And a week later, again.

And a week later, again.

"Do you think it's odd that in all the rime we've spent in cars we've never made it to the backseat?" Liz asks.

"Now who's speaking in code?" Owen replies.

"Answer the question. Do you think it's odd?"

"It's not that I don't feel anything for you, Liz, because I do." Owen pauses. "I'm just not sure it would be right."

"Why?"

"I'm older than you, for one."

"Only two years," she says.

"Only two years and a lifetime or so. But it's not just that I'm older than you." Owen takes a deep breath. "I've been here before. And the truth is, intimacy doesn't have all that much to do with backseats of cars. Real intimacy is brushing your teeth together."

Owen takes off his jacket. Liz looks at his "Emily Forever" tattoo, which for some reason makes her realize that a long time ago, Owen had sex with Emily. Suddenly, Liz notices that the tattoo seems to be brighter and more vivid than ever before. It almost looks like it's glowing.

"Owen," Liz asks, "what's with the tattoo?"

"Oh, I got it when I was sixteen, back on Earth. It was stupid really."

"No, I mean why is it so bright?"

Owen looks down at his arm. "I know. It's odd, isn't it? I used to think it would fade and go away, but it's only gotten brighter and brighter."

"You could tattoo my name on your arm, if you want," Liz adds.

"I could, but tattoos don't really work in Elsewhere. They're gone almost as soon as you put them on," Owen replies. "It's not worth all the pain."

"Don't you understand? It's the gesture?"Liz jokes.

"If I'm to understand you correcdy, you would have me endure hours of pain and suffering for a gesture?"

"Yes," Liz deadpans, "I want to see 'Liz For Now' tattooed on your ass."

"On my ass?"

"Yes, on your ass. It's only nine letters total. It shouldn't hurt too, too much."

"You're a sadist," Owen says.

"I thought I was being very kind, actually. I wasn't even going to make you write 'Elizabeth.' "

"How generous," he says.

Liz takes Owen's arm in her hands and studies the Emily tattoo up close. Liz thinks, He once loved someone enough to tattoo her name on his arm.

"It wasn't a big deal," Owen says. "I was young and stupid."

"Did it really hurt so much?" Liz asks.

Owen nods.

Liz takes the tattooed arm and presses it to her lips. She kisses the arm and then she bites it.

"Ow," Owen says. .

So this is love, Liz thinks.

If we were to read the book of Thandi, it would tell of a long-forgotten spelling bee (forgotten by everyone but Thandi, that is) where a little girl spells e-c-h-o and at the last crucial moment adds another e to the end; and it would tell of Thandi's first love, an overweight boy named Slim who began dating Thandi's second cousin Beneatha the week after Thandi's funeral; and it would tell of the way a bullet in the head changes everything, how long after it heals, colors look different and smells smell different and even memories are different; and it would tell of a father she never knew, a father who now lives in Elsewhere, a father whom Thandi has no desire to see. But because this is not Thandi's story, we join her on a rather unremarkable day. For her, at least.

At the station where she works, Thandi receives her portion of the arrival names each day after lunch, around one o'clock. She doesn't need to read them until the five o'clock broadcast, so she uses the four extra hours to go over each name's pronunciation. The extra practice is, for the most part, unnecessary. Thandi rarely makes a mistake; she has a natural ability for pronouncing even the most foreign names. And yet, on this particular day, Thandi stumbles over a simple, phonetic, easily pronounceable name and decides to call Liz about it.

"The name of that woman Owen was married to on Earth? What was it again? Ellen something?"

Thandi hopes she misre-membered the name.

"Emily Welles." Liz knows the name as well as she knows her own. "Why?"

"Emily Welles. That must be a pretty common name."

"Thandi, what are you getting at?" asks Liz.

"No point in beating around the bush, Liz. Her name was on today's arrivals list. She'll be here on tomorrow's boat."

Liz's heart beats very quickly, and she can't speak.

"It doesn't necessarily mean anything," Thandi says.

"No, I know. Of course not. You're right." Liz takes a deep breath. "I wonder if Owen knows. He hasn't watched the broadcasts for years."

Liz decides to meet Owen in person. It is difficult to see him during the day because of all the time he is out to sea. He sometimes docks for lunch, though, so around two, she takes a chance and waits for him at the wharf.

Owen smiles when he sees Liz.

"Now this is a surprise," he says, embracing her.

Liz had intended to tell Owen about Emily right away, but she can't quite bring herself to do it.

"Is everything all right?" he asks.

Liz nods but doesn't say anything for a while. She just stares out at the water. "I was just wondering if there are Elsewheres elsewhere," she says finally. "It seems strange never to have thought about it before, but does everyone everywhere come to the same place? There must be other boats, right? And maybe they go different places?"

Owen shakes his head. "We all end up Elsewhere eventually."

"I only meant, it seems sort of small. Everybody couldn't possibly fit here, could they?"

"Elsewhere is actually very large; it only depends on your perspective." He takes Liz's hand and flips it over so her palm faces up. "It's an island really," he says. With his finger, he lightly draws a map of Elsewhere on her hand. "This is where the boats come in," he says, "and over here is the River back to Earth. I don't know if you know this, but the River is actually in the middle of the ocean. The ocean only parts once a day to allow the babies back to Earth." Owen draws the squiggly line of the River over the blue veins in Liz's wrist. He traces over to where her thumb is.

"And this is the Well, where we first met."

Liz stares at her palm. She can still feel where Owen had drawn the invisible borders. Suddenly, she closes her palm and the whole world is erased.

"Emily is coming here," Liz says.

"She's dead?" Owen says this in a measured, solemn tone.

"Thandi saw her name on the arrivals list. She'll be here tomorrow."

Owen shakes his head. "I can't believe it."

"So what are you going to do?" Liz asks, her voice practically a whisper.

"I'm going to meet her at the pier," Owen replies.

"After that?"

"I'm going to take her to my house."

"So you think she'll probably stay with you, then?"

"Liz, of course she'll stay with me."

"What about us?" Liz whispers.

Owen doesn't answer her for the longest time. Finally, he says, "I do love you, but I met her first."

He places his hand on top of hers. "I'm not sure what to do, what's right."

Liz looks at Owen. He seems truly miserable, and Liz doesn't want to be the cause of that misery.

She removes her hand from under his. When she speaks, it is in a strong, very adult voice. "The truth is, Owen," Liz says, "we've only just met. You have a responsibility to your wife." Liz waits to see what Owen will say.

"I don't want to lose our friendship," he says.

"We'll still be friends," Liz says. She's disappointed he came around to her reasoning that quickly.

"Oh, Liz, you're the best!" Owen embraces her again. "Emily's a great girl. I think you'll really like her."

Later that night, curled up in bed next to Sadie, Liz wonders how someone could claim to love a person one minute and not love her the next.

Of course, Liz is rather inexperienced in such matters. As many have discovered, it is entirely possible (though not particularly desirable) to love two people with all your heart. It is entirely possible to long for two lives, to feel that one life can't come close to containing it all.

************************************

The ship arrives at sunset. Owen wonders if Emily will recognize him. After all, it has been nearly ten years since they last saw each other. He notices that other people on the pier are carrying handmade cardboard signs with people's names written on them. Maybe he should have made one of those, too?

Emily is the second person off the ship. Even from five hundred yards away, the distance from Owen's position on the pier to the ship's gangplank, Owen can tell that it is her. The sight of her distinctive red hair makes Owen want to sing. She must be thirty-six now, but to him, she looks exactly the same as when he died.

Upon spotting Owen, Emily smiles and waves. "Owen," she calls.

"Emily!" Owen pushes through the crowd.

As soon as they reach each other, Owen and Emily embrace and kiss. It feels like a movie to Owen. He has waited so long for her, and now she is here.

"Did you miss me?" Emily asks.

"Oh, just a little," he says.

Emily holds Owen at arm's length, looking him up and down. "You look good," she pronounces.

"You don't look so bad yourself," Owen says.

Emily pushes Owen's hair back behind his ears. "You look young," she says, furrowing her brow.

She looks around the pier. "Are we all young here?"

"Eventually, yes," Owen replies.

"What do you mean 'eventually'?" Emily asks.

Owen smiles. "Don't worry," he says, "it all works out in the end. I'll explain everything." Owen takes Emily's hand. As he leads her out to the parking lot, he feels that the sad times are behind him, once and for all.

In the car, Emily asks, "So how does this work? Do I stay with you?"

"Of course you do," Owen answers. "You're my wife."

"Am I? Still?"

"Of course you are." Owen laughs. "Who else would you be?"

"But what about 'till death do us part' and all of that?" she asks.

"I've always thought of us as married," Owen says, "and now we aren't parted anymore."

Emily nods but doesn't say anything.

"Haven't you always thought of us as married?" Owen asks.

"In a way, I suppose I have," Emily says. "Yes."

"Have I told you how happy I am to see you?" Owen asks.

That night in bed, Owen says to Emily, "Is it wrong that I love the flu? Is it wrong that I want to sing songs in praise of the flu?"

"I'm glad my death brings out the troubadour in you. But I am dead here, you know. A little gravity is in order." Emily laughs and says, "The flu. What an entirely stupid way for me to go." And then she sneezes. "Hey, I thought there wasn't any sickness here," she says.

"There isn't," Owen says.

And then she sneezes again. And Owen remembers that she is allergic to dogs. (He had decided to leave Jen with Liz for Emily's first night in town he had suspected that he and Emily might want to be alone.) "The thing is . . ." Owen begins. "Well, I have this dog. I know you used to be allergic, but "

Emily interrupts him. "Maybe I'm not allergic anymore? I mean, maybe I'm not allergic here."

Owen is doubtful. "Maybe."

"Maybe I'm just sneezing because I'm still recovering from the flu. Is that even possible?"

Owen doesn't think this is possible, but he chooses not to say so. "Maybe."

The next day, while Emily is at her acclimation appointment, Owen brings Jen back home. Even though Jen's loyalties are with Liz, Jen is also a pragmatist. She knows it is important to make a good first impression with Emily. In her experience, very few people can resist a wagging tail, and the moment Emily walks through the door, Jen begins wagging her tail furiously. "Hello, Emily. I'm Owen's dog, Jen. Pleased to meet you."

"Hello, Jen," Emily says.

Jen holds out a paw for Emily to shake, and Emily sneezes on it.

"Gross," Jen says and then thinks better of it. "Gesundheit."

"Thank you," Emily says. And then, "Owen, is it strange that your dog is talking?"

"Terrific, Emily, you understand Canine!" Owen says. "I don't myself, but I wish I did. Some people are naturals, like" he pauses "my friend Liz."

Emily sneezes again.

"Are you allergic to dogs?" Jen asks.

"I used to be, on Earth," Emily concedes, "but I don't think I am here, right?"

Jen looks doubtful.

Emily continues, "I probably just think I'm allergic because I was before. Maybe it's psychosomatic?" Emily sneezes.

"What's 'psychosomatic'?" Jen asks worriedly.

"It means, it's all in my head. So eventually, I'll stop being allergic to you, I'm sure."

"Do you think?" Jen cocks her head.

"Um, maybe." Emily sneezes again. "Let's hope so."

But the next morning, Emily's eyes are swollen and red, and she is sneezing and coughing nonstop. Despite her allergies, Emily still acts as translator between Jen and Owen.

"Look, Owen," Jen says, "I don't want to live with a person who's constantly sneezing when I'm around." She lowers her tail pathetically. "It makes me feel unwelcome."

"I really am sorry about my allergies," Emily says to Jen. Then she tells Owen, "Jen says she doesn't want to live with me because my sneezing is making her uncomfortable."

"Okay," Owen says. He is glad that Jen made this suggestion before he had to.

"Owen, aren't you going to protest at least a little?" Jen lowers her ears now. "I mean, I was living here first. Maybe she could live somewhere else?"

"She suggests that I could live somewhere else, as she was living here first. Owen, maybe she has a point?" Emily sneezes.

"No," Owen says. "You're my wife. And we'll figure something out."

That night, Jen, who is not an outdoor dog, sleeps on the porch. "We'll figure something out,"

Owen repeats, trying to soothe Jen.

"Can't I at least stay on the couch?" Jen whines. "You promised I could always stay on the couch when we first met." Unfortunately, Owen doesn't understand a word she is saying.

Three days later, Owen leaves Jen at Liz's house. Emily still believes her allergies are only temporary, but Jen is tired of sleeping outside.

"How's it going?" Liz asks Owen. She thinks he looks tired but happy.

"Great," he says. And then he whispers, "I hope I can get Jen back in a couple days, but it's all a little much for Emily."

"Of course." Liz smiles tightly.

"How's your driving coming?" Owen asks. "Parallel parking giving you any trouble, because I could "

She interrupts him. "No."

"Thank you for taking Jen."

"It's nothing." Liz shrugs. "Sometimes these things just don't work out."

Owen starts to walk away.

"By the way," Liz asks, "what did Emily die of?"

"The flu."

"But I thought she was a doctor! She must have had a vaccination."

"She did. It didn't work. It's not always a sure thing, you know."

"I do," Liz replies.

Watching Owen drive away, Liz thinks about the flu. She thinks how everyone else she knows died of much more respectable causes: Aldous and wife (plane crash), Betty (breast cancer), herself and Sadie (hit by cars), Curtis and Thandi's cousin Shelly (drug overdoses), Thandi (gunshot wound to the head), Owen (fire), Esther (Alzheimer's/related causes), Paco (drowning).

Now, those were deaths, Liz thinks. Who the hell dies of the flu except really old people? Liz thinks how everything is changing, all because stupid Emily couldn't be bothered to wash her hands properly.

When Owen returns, Emily is reading a photocopied pamphlet with the title "Elsewhere Office of Avocation Services Guide to Alternative Professions." She says, "It appears I can't be a doctor anymore. I could work at a healing center I suppose, but that's more like nursing."

"I'm sorry," Owen says.

"Don't apologize. Even if I could still be a doctor, I'm not sure that I would want to be one anyway."

"Do you know what you want to do instead?" he asks.

"Maybe I'd like to be one of those people who catch Earth people reading from the ODs and then transcribe the Earth books for here."

"You can't mean a keeper of books?"

"That's exactly what I mean. You have to be good with punctuation, which I am, and a good listener, which I also am, and like to stay up late at night when people do most of their reading, which I also like."

"Sounds sort of boring though," Owen says.

Emily shrugs. "I never had any time to read for pleasure when I was a doctor. And besides, it's just something to do; it's not my whole life."

Owen just shakes his head. "You were always so ambitious. A keeper of books? That just doesn't sound like you."