Elsewhere(56)

If no one knows you're alive, no one you love, you may as well be dead, Liz thinks.

Liz stares above her, for there is nothing else to do at the bottom of the ocean.

On the second night Liz is underwater, two mermaids, a redhead and a blonde, swim by. They stop to look at Liz.

"Are you a mermaid?" the redhead asks Liz.

Liz cannot speak, because her larynx reflexively closed when she began to drown. She blinks her eyes twice.

"I don't think she is," the blond mermaid says. "See, it's a stupid thing who cannot even talk."

"And she has very small breasts," the redhead adds, laughing.

"I think it's a slug," the blonde says.

"Oh, don't say that," the redhead replies. "I think you've hurt its feelings. Look, it's crying."

"I don't care if it is. It's terribly dull. Let's go," the blonde says. And the two mermaids swim happily away.

Mermaids (nasty, vain beasts) are one of the many creatures that live at the bottom of the ocean, in the land between Elsewhere and Earth.

At the Bottom of the Ocean, in the Land Between Elsewhere and Earth

On her third day underwater, Liz is woken by a strange sound. The sound could be a distant foghorn, or a low-pitched bell, or maybe even an engine. She opens her eyes. A familiar glint of silver flashes in the distance. Liz squints a little. It's a gondola! And then she sees that the gondola is etched onto a silver moon, and the moon is connected to a silver chain. And the sound is very like ticking. Liz's heart beats wildly. It's my old pocket watch, she thinks. Someone's fixed it, and if I can only reach up my arm, I can get it back.

And so she summons all her strength.

And so she lifts her one free hand.

But the watch is farther away than she first thought.

And so she summons a little more strength.

And so she peels away the swaddling clothes until her other hand is free.

And so she beats her arms.

But she can't swim without her feet.

And so she peels away more of the cloth until she is naked as the day she was born.

And so she is naked.

But, at last, her arms and her legs are free.

And so she begins to swim.

Liz swims and swims and swims and swims, always keeping the silver moon in sight. And the gondola grows larger and larger. And the rest of the watch seems to disappear. And Liz finally reaches the surface, gasping for air, gasping for life.

And when her eyes finally adjust to the daylight, the gondola is nowhere to be found. Instead, she sees a familiar white tugboat.

"Liz!" Owen yells. "Are you all right?"

Liz can't speak. Her lungs are too filled with water, and she is freezing. Owen notices that her lips are blue.

He pulls her onto the boat and covers her with a blanket.

Liz coughs for the longest time, trying to expel the water from her lungs.

"Are you okay?" Owen asks.

"I seem to have lost my clothes," Liz croaks, her voice scratchy and sore.

"I noticed."

"And I almost died," Liz says. "Again," she adds.

"I'm sorry."

"And I'm totally pissed off at you," Liz says.

"I'm sorry for that, too. I hope you'll forgive me someday."

"We'll see," she says.

"Shall I take you home now?"

Liz nods.

Exhausted, she lies down on the deck. The sun feels warm on her face. She thinks it is pleasant to be on a boat that is bound for home. She begins to feel better immediately.

"I might like to learn how to drive a boat," Liz says when they are almost back.

"I could teach you, if you want," Owen says. "It's a lot like driving a car."

"Who taught you to drive boats?" Liz asks.

"My grandfather. He was a ship captain here and back on Earth. He just retired."

"You never mentioned you had a grandfather."

"Well, he's about six years old now "

"Wait, he wasn't the captain of the SS Nile, was he?"

"Yes. The Captain. Exactly," Owen answers.

"That's the boat I was on! I met him the first day I got here!" Liz says.

"Small world," Owen replies.

Restoration

Liz recuperates for two weeks at a healing center. Although she feels better after a few days, she enjoys her period of convalescence. It is nice to be tended to by one's friends and loved ones (especially when one's recovery is assured).

One of her visitors is Aldous Ghent. "Well, my dear, it seems you are not on Earth," he declares.

Liz nods. "It seems that way."

"This situation creates much paperwork, you know." Aldous sighs and then smiles.

"I'm sorry." Liz returns his smile.

"I'm not." Aldous embraces Liz. He sniffles loudly.

"Aldous, you're crying!"

"My allergies again. I find they particularly act up during happy reunions." Aldous blows his nose.

"I finally read A Midsummer Nights Dream," Liz says.

"I thought one could only read Shakespeare for school."

"I've had some free time lately."

Aldous smiles. "And your opinion?"