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‘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.’
Why do two people ever fall in love? It’s a mystery.
Curtis doesn’t answer for a while. ‘Last week, I met a gar-dener 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.’
There will be other lives. There will be other lives for nervous boys with sweaty palms, for bittersweet fumblings in the backseats of cars, for caps and gowns in royal blue and crimson, for mothers clasping pretty pearl necklaces around daughters’ unlined necks, for your full name read aloud in an auditorium, for brand-new suitcases transporting you to strange new people in strange new lands. And there will be other lives for unpaid debts, for one-night stands, for Prague and for Paris, for painful shoes with pointy toes, for indecisions and revisions. And there will be other lives for
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always listen to the water. I’ve been listening since I was little,’ Alvy says. ‘I could never stop hoping it might be you.’
‘A life isn’t measured in hours and minutes. It’s the quality, not the length. All things considered, I’ve been luckier than most. Almost sixteen good years on Earth, and I’ve already had eight good ones here. I expect to have almost eight more before all’s said and done. Nearly thirty-two years total, and that’s not too shabby.’ ‘You’re seven years old now? You seem very mature.’
