"Let's go home," Betty says. Betty picks up the garbage bag with one hand and brushes the sand off Liz's wet suit with the other.
They take the long way back to the house. The summer air is warm, and Liz's wet suit sticks to her skin.
On one lawn, a boy and a girl run through the sprinklers even though it's after dark.
In a porch swing, a very old man, hunched and shriveled, holds hands with a beautiful, young redheaded woman. Liz thinks the old man might be the woman's grandfather until she watches the way the pair kisses. "Te amo," the redheaded woman whispers in the old man's ear. She gazes at the old man as if he's the most beautiful person in the world.
On another lawn, two boys of about the same age play catch with a worn-out baseball. "Should we go in?" the one boy pauses to ask the other.
"No way, Dad," the other boy answers, "let's keep playing."
"Yeah, let's play all night!" the first boy replies.
And so Liz really looks at Betty's street for the first time.
They stop outside Betty's brownstone, which is painted a bold shade of purple. (Strange as it may seem, Liz has never noticed this before.)
The summer air is thick with perfume from Betty's flowers. The scent, Liz thinks, is sweet and melancholy. A bit like dying, a bit like falling in love.
"I'm not going to the ODs anymore, Betty. I'm going to find an avocation, and when I do, I'll pay you back everything, I promise," Liz says.
Betty looks in Liz's eyes. "I believe you." Betty takes Liz's hand in hers. "And I appreciate that."
"I'm sorry about the money." Liz shakes her head. "All this time, I don't know if you've noticed . . .
The thing is, I think I may have been a little depressed."
"I know, doll," Betty replies, "I know."
"Betty," Liz asks, "why have you put up with me for so long?"
"At first, for Olivia, I suppose," Betty answers after a moment's reflection. "You look so like her."
"No one wants to be liked for who their mother is, you know," Liz says.
"I said, at first."
"So, it wasn't just for Mom's sake, then?"
"Of course not. It was for your own, doll. And mine. Mainly, for mine. I've been lonely for a very long time."
"Since you came to Elsewhere?"
"Longer than that, I'm afraid." Betty sighs. "Did your mother ever tell you why she and I argued?"
"You had an affair," Liz states, "and for a long time, Mom wouldn't forgive you."
"Yes, that's true. I was lonely then, and I've been lonely ever since."
"Have you considered maybe getting another boyfriend?" Liz asks tactfully.
Betty shakes her head and laughs. "I'm through with love, at least of the romantic kind. I've lived too long and seen too much."
"Mom forgave you, you know. I mean, I was named after you, wasn't I?"
"Maybe. I think she just felt sad when I died. And now, I suggest we both go to bed."
************************************
For the first time, Liz sleeps a dreamless sleep. Before, she had always dreamed of Earth.
When she wakes in the morning, Liz calls Aldous Ghent about the position at the Division of Domestic Animals.
Sadie
Your first real job!" Betty crows. "How marvelous, doll! Remind me to take your picture when we get there."
Hearing no response, Betty glances over at Liz in the passenger seat. "You're certainly quiet this morning," she says.
"I'm just thinking," Liz answers. She hopes she won't get fired on her first day.
Aside from the odd babysitting job, Liz never had a "real job" before. Not that she would have minded having a job. She even offered to get one at the mall when Zooey had, but her parents wouldn't let her. "School's your job," her father was fond of saying.
And her mother was in agreement: "You have your whole life to work." Liz's mother certainly had been wrong about that one, Liz thinks with a smirk.
What troubles her is this business of speaking Canine. What if she couldn't pick it up and was fired soon thereafter?
"I remember my first job," Betty says. "I was a hatcheck girl at a nightclub in New York City. I was seventeen years old, and I had to lie and say I was eighteen. I made fifty-two dollars a week, which seemed like a great deal of money to me at the time." Betty smiles at the memory.
As Liz gets out of the car, Betty snaps her picture with an old Polaroid camera. "Smile, doll!" Betty commands. Liz forces her mouth muscles into a position that she hopes will resemble a smile.
"Have a nice day, Liz! I'll pick you up at five!" Betty waves.
Liz nods tensely. She watches Betty's red car drive away, fighting the urge to run after it. The Division of Domestic Animals is housed in a large A-frame building across the street from the Registry. The building is known as the Barn. Liz knows she has to go inside, but she finds she can't move. She breaks into a sweat, and her stomach feels jittery. Somehow, it reminds her of the first day of school. She takes a deep breath and walks to the entrance. After all, the only way to absolutely ensure things will go badly is to be late.
Liz opens the door. She sees a harried woman with kind green eyes and a mass of frizzy red hair.
The woman's denim overalls are covered in a mix of dog hair, cat hair, and what appears to be greenish feathers. She holds out her hand for Liz to shake. "I'm Josey Wu, the head of the DDA.
Are you Aldous's friend Elizabeth?"
"Liz."
"Hope you don't mind dog hair, Liz."
"Nah, it's just a little present dogs like to leave behind."
Josey smiles. "Well, we've got a lot to do today, Liz, and you can start by changing into these."
She tosses Liz a pair of denim overalls.
In the bathroom where Liz changes into the overalls, a medium-sized, rather rangy, blondish dog of indeterminate lineage (in other words, a mutt) is drinking from a toilet.
"Hey, girl," Liz says to the dog, "you don't have to drink from there."
The dog looks up at her. After a moment, the dog cocks her head curiously and speaks. "Isn't that what it's for?" she asks. "Why else would they fill a low basin thingy with water? You can even get fresh water by pressing this little handle, right?" The dog demonstrates, flushing the toilet with her left paw.
"No," says Liz gently, "it's actually a toilet."
"Toilet?" the dog asks. "What's that?"
"Well, it's a place where people go."
"Go? Go where?"
"Not where,'' Liz says delicately.
The dog looks at the bowl. "Good Lord," she says, "you mean to say all this time I've been drinking from a place where humans pee and . . . ?" She looks on the verge of throwing up. "Why didn't anyone ever tell me? I've been drinking from toilets for years. I never knew. They always had the door closed."
"Here," says Liz, "let me get you some fresh water from the sink." Liz locates a little bowl and fills it with water. "Here, girl!"