Elsewhere(41)

"Whistling's fine," Liz says.

"Hey, I'm just trying to entertain you here." Owen laughs again. After a second, Liz joins him.

Although nothing particularly funny has been said, Liz and Owen find they cannot stop laughing.

Liz has to stop drying the dishes and sit down. It has been such a long time since Liz has laughed this hard. She tries to remember the last time.

The week before Liz died, Zooey and she were trying on sweaters at the mall. Studying herself in the dressing room mirror, Liz said to Zooey, "My breasts look like little tepees." Zooey, who had even smaller breasts than Liz, retorted, "If yours are tepees, mine are tepees that the cowboys came and burned down." For some reason, this observation struck both girls as ridiculously funny. They laughed so long and so loudly that the salesclerk had to come and ask them if they needed help.

That had been in March; now it was November. Has it really been eight months since Liz has laughed that hard?

"What's wrong?" Owen asks.

"I was thinking that it had been a long time since I laughed like that," Liz says. "A really long time." She sighs. "It was when I was still alive. I was with my best friend, Zooey. It wasn't even anything very funny, you know?"

Owen nods. "The best laughs are like that." He washes the last plate and gives it to Liz to dry. He turns off the water and replaces his ring on his finger.

"I guess I'm a little homesick," Liz admits, "but it's the worst kind of homesickness because I know I can't ever go back there or see them ever again."

"That doesn't just happen to people in Elsewhere, Liz," says Owen. "Even on Earth, it's difficult to ever go back to the same places or people. You turn away, even for a moment, and when you turn back around, everything's changed."

Liz nods. "I try not to think about it, but sometimes it hits me all at once. Whoosh! And I remember I'm dead."

"You should know that you're doing really well, Liz," says Owen. "When I first came to Elsewhere, I was pretty much addicted to the ODs for a whole year."

"That happened to me, too," Liz says, "but I'm better now."

"It's common actually. It's called Watcher Syndrome, and some people never get over it."

Suddenly, Owen looks at his watch. It is already nine thirty, and the Observation Decks close at ten. "I'm sorry to be so abrupt," says Owen, "but I have to run. I go see my wife, Emily, every Thursday night."

"I know," Liz says. "A while ago, I was sitting next to you at the ODs and I asked you who you were there to see."

In the back of his mind, Owen vaguely remembers a withered girl with dirty hair and worn pajamas. He looks at the girl with the clear eyes standing before him and wonders if she could possibly be the same person. "Pajamas?" he asks.

"I was a little sad at the time."

"You look much better now," says Owen. "Thank you for dinner and thank your grandmother for me, too."

Sadie wanders into the kitchen just as Owen is leaving. She puts her fuzzy golden head onto Liz's lap, indicating that Liz should stroke it.

"No one will ever love me like that," Liz says to her.

"I love you," Sadie says.

"I love you, too," Liz says to Sadie. Liz sighs. The only love she inspires is the canine kind.

Owen reaches the Observation Deck five minutes before it closes. Although she is not supposed to let people into the decks for the last ten minutes before closing, Esther knows Owen and waves him through. "You're late tonight, Owen," the attendant remarks.

Owen sits at his usual binoculars, places a single eternim in the slot, and raises his eyes. He finds Emily in what is a fairly typical pose for her. She is sitting in front of her bathroom mirror, brushing her long red hair with a silver brush. Owen watches Emily brush her hair for about thirty seconds more and then he turns away.

I am wasting my death, Owen says to himself. I am like one of those people who spend all their lives watching TV instead of having real relationships. I have been here nearly ten years, and my most significant relationship is still with Emily. And Emily thinks I'm dead. And I am dead. This does her no good, and it does me no good either.

As Owen is leaving, he says to Esther, "What am I even doing here?"

"Beats me," Esther replies.

On his way back to his car, Owen makes up his mind to call Liz at work next week. It might be a good start to adopt a dog, he thinks.

A Mystery

Why do two people ever fall in love? It's a mystery.

When Owen calls Liz on Tuesday, he gets right to the point. "Hello, Liz. I was thinking I might adopt a dog," he says.

"Of course," Liz says. "What sort of dog did you have in mind?"

"Well, I hadn't really thought about it. I guess I'd like a dog I could take to work with me."

"A small dog?"

"Small's fine as long as he's not too small, and I could take him running and hiking and stuff."

"So, small's fine as long as she's large?" Liz laughs.

"Right, a small, large dog." Owen laughs, too. "And preferably a he."

"Why don't you come down to the DDA?" Liz suggests.

Later that day, Liz introduces Owen to several possible can dictates. For an adoption to take place on Elsewhere, the dog and the human both have to agree on each other. In truth, the decision is usually more the dog's than the human's.