“I guess that makes me one lucky guy.”
“Is that so?”
He pulls me into a deep kiss. It’s a good thing I’m dead, because my heart feels like it’s going to explode out of my chest, beating a rhythm of fireworks and excitement. Lying back on his bed, I give myself over to the moment. My hands are on his shoulders, pulling him close, then on his chest, and I forget everything but the urgency. Gone is the shyness of last night’s first, delicate encounter. This could get out of hand.
He sits up and takes a shuddering breath. “We should slow down. I … ” He looks down at his bracelet. “I have to get going to work.”
“Already?”
“Time flies, huh?” He gives me a gentle kiss and takes a moment to regain his composure. “I’ll see you after I get back, okay?”
“Count on it,” I say, still breathless.
“I’ll walk you to the door,” he offers.
“I’ll walk you to the elevator.”
Despite our attempt to keep a low profile, a few raised eyebrows greet us as we make our way through the common area. With a wave goodbye, Charlie is on the elevator and gone, and I am at a loss. What to do now? Thanks to my day of rest, I have no appointments—Franklin can wait—and no pressing issues, and, at the moment, nothing on my mind but Charlie.
Deciding to go with my lazy day plans, I elect to find something to read. At the library, I am faced with the computer-free, browse-and-find-for-yourself setup, which is fine since I’m not in a hurry.
Perusing the aisles takes me back to my first day at Atman and my first encounter with Charlie. Even though it has been little more than a week, it feels like a lifetime ago, and I begin to wonder if I’m even the same person anymore. My feelings remain by and large the same, but the edge of desperation is softening. I’m forming real relationships in this place, relationships that make facing the afterlife doable. While I still miss my life, my family and my friends, it’s starting to feel a little bit bearable.
I search for the perfect book: nothing too heavy, nothing too dumb, nothing too serious. Funny and irreverent sounds nice. War and Peace? Not even close. The Complete Works of William Shakespeare? That’s a big no. I read title after title, rejecting possibility after possibility until I find just the thing. The Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy. Perfect.
“An excellent choice,” says a voice behind me. Bobby. He’s using his major height advantage to glance over my shoulder.
“Hey, Bobby. How’s it going?”
“Quite well, actually. This new experiment is rather fascinating.”
“Really? That’s good.”
“Oh, yes. I’ve found the simple act of cooperation has opened up a world of interesting observations, although it would seem we are presently in a period of adjustment that may skew results.”
“How so?”
“My cooperation, as you know, seems to have caught the staff members of Atman off-guard. They appear wary at this point, and are only beginning to adjust to the idea that I am, in fact, fully participating in their plan.” Bobby studies me as he scratches his chin. “The real question, though, is how you are faring this morning? I have heard a most disturbing account of a rather unpleasant encounter.”
“I’m fine. I was in pretty rough shape, but I feel a lot better today.”
“Excellent. It is my sincere wish you enjoy a stress-free, relaxing day with Mr. Adams.” He points to the book. “I won’t keep you from him and his amusing anecdotal views on the universe.”
“Okay. I’ll see you later, Bobby.”
“Don’t forget your towel,” he says as he walks away.
The next stop of the day is my suite, but as I’m heading toward my room, thoughts of giant doughnuts fill my head. The desire for a good blast of sugar is competing with the utter laziness of not wanting to walk down to the cafeteria. In the end, laziness wins and my feet deliver me to my room.
I’m greeted by the blinking light of our message center. It gets me wondering how they can send multiple messages from different places at different times. Do these canisters have some sort of recall button so other departments can get them? After dumping the canister’s contents on the table, I grab the first message.
Hey sweetie,
Don’t forget to stop by later, okay?
Crosby
I toss his note aside, too intent on relaxation to even consider walking all the way to Admin right now. The other piece of mail catches my attention. It isn’t in an envelope. My legs go weak when I realize what I’m looking at.
YOON, HANNAH
08:15 TRACK 17, PLATFORM B
TRAIN 12 (EXPRESS SERVICE, NONSTOP)
PASSENGERS: ONE
AUTHORIZATION: 9YH4XX7RK
PLEASE ARRIVE AT THE PLATFORM PROMPTLY AT 08:00 TOMORROW.
REPORT TO TICKETING LEVEL B FOR CHECK-IN AT LEAST THIRTY MINUTES PRIOR TO DEPARTURE.
CHAPTER FORTY-SIX
I know I should be happy. Hannah has waited more than two years for this moment. It’s finally here, and there isn’t anyone more deserving. But I can’t help it. I feel selfish. Scared. Alone. Angry. We’ve just gotten close, and now she’s leaving. What am I going to do without her? Why would they make us roommates if she was going to get her ticket so soon?
Sheer willpower forces me to my feet. My legs give out on me in an act of betrayal, and I can’t let them get away with it. Crosby is determined to see me, and now I can understand why.
I proceed in a zombie-like trance to the elevator. Desperate for a quick, solo ride to the ground floor, I hit the lobby button and make a silent plea. No luck. It seems everyone in the tower has somewhere to go right this minute. We’re packed into the elevator like sardines, and I begin to wonder how different we really are from a tin of dead fish.
I hit the lobby at a run, weaving recklessly through the heavy traffic.
The serenity of Jhana Park fails to merit so much as a passing glance as I pass through in record time. I work through scenarios of Atman without Hannah, and they’re bleak. Yes, I have Charlie, but there’s just no substitute for a good girlfriend.
It requires every bit of self-control I possess to slow my pace as I burst through the front door of Administration Building Two. I navigate the zigzagging path with an alarming familiarity. Little more than a week ago, these halls were an impenetrable labyrinth, and now I know the way without even having to think about it.
I force myself to stop for a moment outside the Station Guidance and Assistance: Assignment Division office. Fortunately, the hallway is deserted, so I can languish in self-pity in relative peace and quiet.
When I’m finally calm enough to face Crosby, I discover he isn’t at his desk. I take a seat and wait. This gives Hannah’s looming departure ample time to grab me and give me a good shake. How long has Crosby known? Why didn’t he say anything? Did Hannah know? Franklin? Kay? I’m sure she knew. Couldn’t she have prepared me for this?
The more I think about it, the angrier I feel. I’m hit with the memory of Abbey screaming at Franklin, and for the first time I feel a little bit of sympathy.
Feeling sorry for Abbey? Get a grip.
The doors open and I leap to my feet.
Gideon walks in. “Dez,” he says, curtly. “Waiting for Crosby?”
“Yeah, I—it’s a long story.” I collapse back into the chair.
He nods, expressionless.
“Gideon?” I stare down at my hands. “Thanks for trying to help me, that night when … That was a really personal story you told me. And I’m sorry I blew you off.”
He nods again and his posture relaxes. “It’ll get better, Dez.”
“I hope so.”
He drops an envelope on Crosby’s desk. On his way out, he squeezes my shoulder. “Don’t be a stranger.” He leaves, and I’m once again alone with my dread.
At long last, Crosby walks through the doors. He gives me a sympathetic smile and sits down.
As the saying goes, resistance is futile. I fin
d myself leaning against his shoulder once again, this time asking, “Why didn’t you tell me?”
“I’m not allowed to say anything until after the departing soul has received their ticket.”
“Well, I guess you’ll have to keep quiet, then. I’m the one who found her ticket in our message center.”
“A technicality I think we can work around.”
“She must be so excited.” I try to sound happy, but I’m not fooling anyone.
“She is, but she’s also a little freaked out. Plus she’s worried about you.”
I’m worried about me, too. My friend list in the afterlife is about to be cut in half.
“I’m a horrible person, Crosby.”
“Why would you say something like that?”
“Because I can’t even manage to be happy for her. She’s finally getting what she’s worked so hard for and totally deserves, but all I can think about is me. I should be relieved, because I was sure our trip into the city ruined any chance she had of getting out of here.”
“It’s normal, I promise.” He reaches for the tissue box on his desk, but I wave him off.
“Why did they make us roommates, anyway?” I ask. “I mean, if she was going to leave in a week, what’s the point?”
“She was chosen as your roommate because, for one, she had a vacancy, and two, she’s an excellent choice to introduce someone new to Atman. It was no sure thing she would be leaving a week ago. She was showing progress, but since you’ve gotten here, her confidence has soared and she’s made huge leaps. She’s shown toughness and a willingness to stand up for her friends, even at the risk of breaking rules and facing real danger.”
She was so brave, even against that giant Louis, and again with her back to a perilous drop.
“Believe it or not, your trip to the city actually helped her,” Crosby says. “Kay sent her recommendation yesterday, and the Council acted remarkably fast. They normally take two weeks to make a decision, but the order came through last night and her ticket was printed up. Her bracelet came off about five minutes after she left your room this morning.”
I nod in a grudging acknowledgement of his reasoning. “So now what? Am I getting a new roommate? Somebody who will be here more than a week? Or should I plan on keeping my distance so I don’t get attached?”
“Nothing will happen for a while. Believe it or not, due to the size of this place, each floor only averages five new residents a year. Kay will make an assessment, and we’ll see what happens. There’s one other girl on your floor without a roommate right now, but I know you’re not interested.”
“Abbey? Yeah, forget it. I’ll stay by myself, thanks.”
“Come on, it’s not so bad. You still have me. Not to mention Charlie.”
“Would you let me wallow for a little while, please?”
“Not a chance.”
“Thanks a lot,” I grumble.
“If I let you wallow now, you’ll hate me later. You have about seventeen hours left before Hannah leaves. Don’t waste them being sad.”
CHAPTER FORTY-SEVEN
I’m sitting in the lounge, awaiting the return of Charlie and Hannah. Neither of them is back on the floor yet. Time is wasting, and here I sit, reading tales of towels and the universe.
“Dez?”
Much to my surprise, it’s Abbey. A quiet, reflective Abbey. Am I hallucinating?
“Hey,” I say.
“I heard about Hannah. I … ” She looks down at the floor. “Look, I know we didn’t exactly hit it off, but I wanted to tell you I know how you’re feeling, and if you need anyone to talk to … ” Her words trail off, and she turns and walks away.
“Thanks,” I say inaudibly.
I return to my book, but focus is impossible.
She’s leaving. Tomorrow.
How will I get through this without her?
Finally, Hannah steps off the elevator. She doesn’t see me, though, and heads straight for our room. I’m up in a hurry to follow her.
She hears me behind her and spins around when I enter the room. “Dez! I’ve been looking for you.”
“I was out in the lounge, reading. Waiting for you and Charlie to get back.” I hand her the ticket from the table by the message center. “Congratulations.”
She pulls me into a lung-crushing hug. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean for you to find out like this. My bracelet didn’t come off until—”
“Hannah, it’s fine,” I squeak. I manage to wriggle free.
“Are you okay?” she asks.
“I am. Honestly. I was pretty freaked out when I saw the ticket, but I was being completely selfish.”
“You’re not,” she insists.
“You know what my first thought was when I saw your ticket? What about me? That’s it. No happiness for you, nothing. Just worrying about what it means for me.”
“That’s not selfish. That’s normal. You’ve been here a week. It’s not even enough time to get used to the idea of being dead. After all that’s happened in the last few days, we finally got close. And now I’m leaving. Of course you’re going to feel upset and worried.” She pulls me into another hug.
“Stop it. You’re going to make me cry.”
“Oh, your ribs, I’m so sorry!” She lets go of me.
“No, they’re fine. Crosby put this ointment on them, and they don’t even hurt at all anymore.” I pull my braids back to show her my face. “My cheek, too. See?”
“I should have known Crosby would be able to fix you right up.” She drops her ticket back on the table and takes a long look at me. “You’re going to be fine, you know?”
Feeling the first sense of true happiness for her, I squeeze her tight. “You have been such an amazing friend, and there’s nobody I’d rather have spent my first week with.” Tears trickle down my cheeks. “I could never have gotten through without you.”
Hannah’s eyes well up. “If it weren’t for you, I don’t think I’d have come out of my shell enough to reach the finish line. I’m going to miss you so much. I can’t believe this is goodbye.”
“It isn’t. We’ll see each other again, as soon as I can get out of here. Then we’ll have forever.”
“Plus we have the rest of today and tonight, right?”
“We do. DSR can bite me.”
Our crying and hugging is interrupted by a soft knock at the door. “Come in,” we say in unison, sniffling.
Charlie’s head peeks around the door. “Aw, what’s this?” he asks. “You know what you two need?” He comes in, three Frisbee doughnuts in hand. Well, hands. And arms. The doughnuts are big.
Hannah and I laugh and wipe away tears.
“You’re something else, Charlie,” she says. “Come sit down. We can’t eat doughnuts and weep while standing. It’s too much work.”
She takes a seat in her recliner. Charlie passes out the doughnuts and lights the fireplace before joining me on the couch.
“So, are you excited?” he asks.
“I guess.” Hannah smiles, her face a mess of nerves. “I’m still pretty much in shock. I had no idea this was coming. I thought I had a lot of work left to do.”
A bit of unfinished business pops in my head. “Great Expectations,” I shout, making Hannah and Charlie both jump. “You never finished.”
“I guess I’ll have to track down Dickens himself and have him tell me how it ends.”
“Sounds like a great plan,” I say, “but if his personality is anything like his writing, be prepared for a long-winded conversation.”
“As long as no one is paying him by the word to talk, I should be okay.”
We sit in silence, none of us sure what to say next. After several sad, silent moments have passed, Charlie holds up his doughnut in a toast. “Here’s to Hannah. A great friend, roommate, floormate, and someone we will miss terribly and think of every day. Nobody deserves to move on more than you. Congratulations.”
The night passes in equal parts laughter and tears, the three of u
s rejecting DSR for the night, forgetting everything else but each other. We share stories of our childhoods, our lives, our deaths, and what we think will be waiting for Hannah in the morning. Hannah tells us about her three brothers; Charlie laments being the youngest, and only, boy in a family with five sisters. I tell them about my parents and what it’s like to be an only child. We tell jokes, marvel at the afterlife, and do everything in our power to fight the passing time. Not since Aaron has a goodbye been so hard.
It’s not every day you send a dear friend off to eternity.
The morning comes fast, regardless of the fact that we’re not ready to face it. Before we know it, Franklin has arrived.
“You ready, Hannah?” he asks.
“No, but does it matter?”
“Train’s leaving. It’s better to be on it than not, right?”
“I guess so,” she says.
I walk over to the message center and retrieve her ticket from the table. This time, my happiness for her outweighs my selfish worry for myself, but my handing her the ticket sends us into another crying jag.
Charlie wraps us both up in his arms. “We’re really going to miss you around here, Hannah.”
“We are, but I am so happy for you,” I say. And I mean it.
“Thanks, Dez. I’m pretty happy for me, too. Nervous, but happy.”
We break our group hug and Franklin holds out his hand to Hannah. “It’s been a real pleasure,” he says. The look of surprise on his face as Hannah throws her arms around him is priceless. Hugs for everyone, I guess.
Another knock on the door opens the floodgates of a steady stream of floormates—even Abbey—who pass through in the next few minutes. More hugs and goodbyes follow, and, before we know it, it’s time to go.
“Walk me down to the station?” Hannah asks.
“Of course we will,” I say. “I want to get in every last second with you. I have a lot of issues, so it might be a while before we see each other again.”
Life, A.D. Page 24
