Elsewhere(52)

Liz. considers what Aldous is saying. Somehow this whole experience with Owen and Emily has made her feel entirely exhausted and pessimistic. What is the point of loving anyone? To Liz, all the effort of working, living, loving, talking has begun to seem just that: effort. In fifteen years (less, actually), she would just forget everything anyway. All things considered, it is beginning to seem preferable to speed the process up a bit. "So I can still go?" Liz asks.

"You're not saying you want to go?" asks Aldous.

Liz nods.

Aldous looks at Liz. "Well, I must say I'm surprised, Elizabeth. I'd never pegged you for a Sneaker." Aldous's eyes tear. "And I thought you had such a successful acclimation."

"What would I have to do?" Liz asks.

"Inform your friends and loved ones of your decision. By letter or in person, it's your choice.

Perhaps you should speak to Betty about this, Elizabeth."

"This is what I want, Aldous," Liz says. "Wait, you won't tell her, will you?"

Aldous shakes his head, looking uncharacteristically tortured. "Everything we discuss is always confidential. I couldn't tell her, even if I wanted to. Even though I probably should."

Now Aldous begins to cry outright. "Was it something I did? Or didn't do?" he asks. "Please don't spare my feelings."

"No, I think it was just me," Liz comforts him as best she can.

It is determined that Liz's Release will take place Sunday morning, the one-year anniversary of her arrival on Elsewhere and the last possible day she could exercise the clause. She will leave with all the babies on the River. It will be strange, Liz thinks, to be among so many babies.

Furthermore, Liz will have to be wrapped in swaddling clothes, which would be totally humiliating if anyone saw her. Of course, no one will see her anyway.

The only person Liz decides to tell is Curtis Jest. The obvious choices Betty, Thandi, or Sadie would try to talk her out of it, and Liz isn't in the mood for any more drama. She isn't speaking to Owen. So basically that leaves Curtis. He always seems amused by other people's lives, but decidedly detached and apathetic. He would be sad to see her go, but he wouldn't do anything to try to stop her. And that is exactly what Liz wants.

Still, Liz waits as long as possible to talk to Curtis. She tells him on the Saturday night before she is set to leave.

"So I suppose there's no talking you out of this?" Curtis says, as the two of them sit on the wharf, their legs dangling over the side.

"Nope," Liz replies, "it's decided."

"And this isn't because of Owen?"

Liz sighs. "No," she says finally, "not really. But maybe I just wish I could have what he has."

"I don't follow, Lizzie."

"The thing is, Owen had Emily from before, from Earth. I have nothing from before on Earth.

Emily was Owen's first love, and I want that, I want to be someone's first. Can you understand that? It sometimes feels that in this backward life, nothing that happens to me is ever new.

Everything that happens has happened to someone else before. I feel like I'm getting everything secondhand."

"Liz," Curtis says seriously, "I think you would find that even if you were still on Earth, living a forward life, everything that happened to you would still have happened to someone else."

"Yes," Liz concedes, "but it wouldn't be so predetermined. I wouldn't know when I was going to die. I wouldn't know that in less than fifteen years, I would be a stupid baby again. I would get to be an adult. I would have a life of my own."

"You have a life of your own."

Liz shrugs. She feels no need to have this conversation.

"Liz, I must tell you, I think you're making a grave mistake."

Suddenly, Liz turns on him. "You're a fine one to talk! Look at you, you sit on this wharf all day, day after day, and you do nothing! You see no one! You don't sing! You're half dead, really!"

"I'm all dead, actually," Curtis jokes.

"Everything is a joke to you; everything is amusing. Well, why aren't you singing? Why don't you sing something, Curtis?"

"Because I have already done that once," Curtis says firmly.

"So you don't miss it at all? You can't honestly expect me to believe that you're happy just being a fisherman. I mean, I've never even seen you catch anything!"

"I do catch fish; I just throw them all back."

"That's completely stupid and pointless!"

"Not at all. We direct the fish back to Earth and, furthermore, we keep the wharf picturesque.

Fishing is a fine, noble profession," says Curtis.

"Unless you're supposed to do something else!"

Curtis doesn't answer for a while. "Last week, I met a gardener named John Lennon."

"What does that have to do with anything?" Liz asks. She isn't in the mood for Curtis's bullshit.

"Nothing. It's only to say that just because someone did something before doesn't mean they have to do it still."

"Do you know what I think?" Liz asks. "I think you're a coward!" She stands and walks away.

"Takes one to know one, Lizzie my gal!" Curtis calls after her.