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No matter what condition the world was in, someone always needed to be sued.
The daughter would probably want to do something as asinine as open a restaurant or start a nonprofit.
“My daughter pierced her septum,” Patricia said forlornly. “She looks like a bull. My little girl, wanting a matador to chase her down and stick things in her.”
“I’ve spent the last few days since I got the news trying to find a single memory of our time together that didn’t fill me with regret or apathy or a burning fury that felt like I was standing on the sun. It took time, but I did find one. Once, Wallace brought me a cup of soup while I was sick. I thanked him. Then he went to work, and I didn’t see him for six days.”
“And don’t even get me started on the fact that he cared more about his work than making a family. I marked my ovulation cycle on his work calendar. Do you know what he did? He sent me a card that said CONGRATULATIONS, GRADUATE.”
She brightened. “Oh, and I’m your Reaper, here to take you where you belong.” And then, as if the moment wasn’t strange enough, she made jazz hands. “Ta-da.”
“I don’t want to think about it,” he snapped. “I don’t want to think about any of this!” Inexplicably, she said, “If wishes were fishes, we’d all swim in riches.” He stared after her as she started down the road. “That doesn’t explain anything!” “Only because you’re being obstinate. Lighten up, man.”
“I know,” she said. “That’s what’s so funny about it. Hugo’s not God, Wallace. He’s a ferryman. I told you that. God is … the idea of God is a human one. It’s a little more complicated than that.”
The glasses he usually wore while reading were, while expensive, utilitarian. He didn’t belong in something that could be described as a tea shop. What a preposterous idea.
She smiled like she was amused, and for the life of him, Wallace couldn’t see what was so funny. “Now’s as good as time as any. It’s all about the first step, Wallace. You can do it. I know faith is hard, especially in the face of the unknown. But I have faith in you. Maybe have a little in me?”
“Yeah,” Mei said. “Watch the last one. Sorry about that. Been meaning to tell Hugo to get that fixed. Didn’t want to interrupt your moment or whatever was happening. It seemed important.” “I hate everything,” Wallace said through gritted teeth.
Here was a picture of a waterfall, the spray catching the sunlight in rainbow fractals. Here was a shot of an island in a cerulean sea, the trees so thick, he couldn’t see the ground.
Strangely, they all caused a lump in Wallace’s throat. He had never had time for such places, and now, he never would.
“It helps to laugh, even when you don’t feel like laughing. You can’t be sad when you’re laughing. Mostly.”
Hugo nodded. “Good. Now, I want you to repeat after me again: ‘I am an idiot.’” “I am an idiot.” “‘And I’m dead.’” “And I’m dead.” “‘And there’s no way for me to come back to life because that’s not how it works.’” “And there’s … what?” Hugo doubled over, wheezing out grating laughter. “Oh. Oh my. You should see the look on your face. It’s priceless!”
I reminded you that you’ve passed, and you could no longer touch it. Your expectations changed. You should have unexpected it.”
“Such a good boy,” Nelson said fondly. “Empathetic almost to a fault, ever since he was a tyke. Causes him to take the weight of the world on his shoulders. You would do well to listen to him and learn from him. I don’t know if you could find yourself in better hands. Remember that before you start hurling accusations.”
Another door on the right led to a half bathroom with a sign hanging on it that read: GUYS, GALS, & OUR NONBINARY PALS.
That’s the difference between us and them. They die, and that’s it. We die and—” “End up at a tea shop in the middle of nowhere against our will,” Wallace said bitterly.
can’t grieve for myself.” Hugo shook his head slowly. “Of course you can. We do it all the time, regardless of if we’re alive or not, over the small things and the big things. Everyone is a little bit sad all the time.
Dogs don’t—they’re not like us. They’re … pure in a way we aren’t. I’ve never had another dog come here before, needing help to cross. I’ve heard stories of ferrymen and women whose job it is to handle certain animals, but that’s not what I do. I’d love it, though. Animals aren’t as complicated as people.”
Thought he might make a good service dog. Seemed smart enough. And he was—is. Didn’t really take, though. He was too distracted by most everything, but who could blame him? Certainly not me, because he tried his best, and that’s all that matters. Turned out he was this … this part I didn’t know I was missing. He wasn’t the answer to everything, but it was a start. He lived a good life. Not as long as I would’ve liked, but still good.”
He needed focus, and the growing of tea plants provided that for him.”
“So I noticed.” His brow furrowed again. “Best you avoid anger if at all possible. It can cause all manner of situations better left avoided.”
He closed his eyes and wished he could go back in time when everything made sense. It hurt more than he expected.
“Why are you lying on the floor?” Mei asked. “Why do we do anything that we do?” Wallace said dully. “There’s no point.” “Oh man,” Mei said. “It’s far too early for your existential angst. At least let me wake up more before having to deal with such a bummer.”
Apollo immediately stepped back, sitting once again beside Hugo, looking down at Wallace as if he were the asshole in this situation. “Kitchen?” Hugo asked. “I will destroy everything you love,” Wallace threatened. “Does that ever work on anyone?” Hugo sounded honestly curious.
“And?” Nelson said. “Just because I’m dead doesn’t mean I don’t like to look my best.” He held up his shoes, wiggling his feet. “Do you like them? They’re Velcro, because laces are for suckers.”
I’m so glad you came here. You certainly know how to liven this place up.” He grinned. “Get it? Liven? It’s funny because you’re not alive. Oh, wordplay. How I adore you.”
“Energy. Life. Death. All of it. We rise and we fall and then we rise once more. We’re all on different paths, but death doesn’t discriminate. It comes for everyone. It’s what you do with it that sets you apart. Focus, Wallace. I’ll show you where to look. You’ll get it. All it takes is a little—there. See?”
He didn’t say that he could smell them, the scent thick and warm, because it made him feel alone.
“Please let me be there when you say that to Hugo. I want to see the look on his face when you call him a hipster. I need it like air.”
He felt properly rebuked. And worse, he thought she had a point.
I know you’re scared, and you have every right to be.” “Damn right I am,” Wallace said. “How could I not be?” Hugo smiled quietly as he turned toward Wallace. “That might be the most honest thing you’ve said since you got here. Would you look at that? You’re making progress. That’s great.”
“People die all the time.” Mei gasped. “They do? Oh my god, this changes everything. I can’t believe I never—oh, now that’s a look on your face for sure.” Wallace grimaced. “Whoever told you that you were funny obviously lied and you should feel bad about it.” “I don’t,” Mei assured him. “Like, at all.” “Like, totally.”
She startled. “I’m not scared of anything.” He didn’t think that was true. If she was telling the truth and was human, she’d always have to be scared of something. That was how humanity worked. Survival instinct was based on a healthy dose of fear.
“It’s like you, in a way,” she said. “You need to unlearn all that you know. I wish I could just flip a switch for you, but that’s not how it works. It’s a process, Wallace, and it takes time. For me, it started when I was shown the truth. It changed me, though definitely not right away.”
Death isn’t a final ending, Wallace. It is an ending, sure, but only to prepare you for a new beginning.”
“All right?” Hugo asked as Wallace stopped awkwardly next to Nelson’s chair. “I have no idea,” Wallace said. Hugo beamed at him as if Wallace had said something profound. “That’s wonderful.” Wallace blinked. “It is?” “Very. Not knowing is better than pretending to know.”
I won’t have you thinking I’m a perfect man. It would be a lie. But I’ve learned that maybe I was a better person than I expected. I think that’s all anyone can ask for.”
He … told me things. About life and death. How it’s a cycle that never ends and never would. Grief, he said, is a catalyst. A transformation. And then he offered me a job.”
Death has a beauty to it. We don’t see it because we don’t want to. And that makes sense. Why would we want to focus on something that takes us away from everything we know? How do we even begin to understand that there’s more than what we see?”
They lived a good life. They’d done right by themselves and me. There was nothing left for them to do here. Of course they’d cross.”
There are little deaths, because that’s what grief is. I died a little death, and the Manager showed me a way to cross beyond it.
You think I’m a prisoner here. That I’m trapped, that you’re trapped. And in a way, maybe we are. But I can’t quite call it a prison when there’s nowhere else I’d rather be.”
“I know. I’m just playing with you. Lighten up, Wallace. Not everything needs to be so serious.” He sobered. “Maybe one day. I don’t know. It’d be kind of hard to explain that my tea shop is actually just a front for dead people to have pseudo-intellectual conversations.”
“Good,” Nelson said. “Now, what did I tell you?” He ground his teeth together. “It’s a chair.” “What else?” “I have to unexpect it.” “And?” “And I can’t force it.” “Exactly,” Nelson said, as if that explained everything. “That’s not how any of this works.” “Really,” Nelson said dryly. “Because you have such a good idea about how this works. What was I thinking.”
Things would fall apart for them. They would hurl accusations like grenades, not caring they were both still in the blast radius.
“You’re not doing it right,” Nelson said. “You don’t seem like a man who loves to fail, so why are you so good at it?”
“Oh, there is,” she said. “But children watch my videos, and I don’t want to corrupt their precious minds.” “Oh my god,” Wallace said. “How is she a person?”
