he yells.
"What is it?" Liz's mother asks.
"Be quiet," Alvy says with remarkable authority for a person of eight, "and please don't touch the sink."
"Why?" Liz's parents ask the question in unison.
"It's Lizzie," Alvy says quietly. "I think I can hear Lizzie."
At this point, Liz's mother begins to sob. Liz's father looks at Alvy. "Is this some kind of a joke?"
he asks.
Alvy puts his ear up to the spigot. He can just make out Liz's voice.
"ALVY, IT'S LIZ. THERE'S SOMETHING FOR DAD UNDER THE FLOORBOARDS IN MY
CLOSET."
Alvy nods. "I'll tell him, Lizzie. Are you okay?"
Liz doesn't get a chance to answer. At that moment, a net falls over her, and she is pulled back toward the surface.
Thrashing her arms and legs, Liz attempts to free herself. Her efforts are for naught. The more she struggles, the tighter the net seems to become. Liz quickly realizes the futility of trying to escape. She sighs, accepting her momentary defeat gracefully. At least the ascent to shore will be quicker than if she had to swim it herself.
The net propels Liz upward with astonishing speed, almost like a waterslide in reverse. At first, Liz is concerned that she might get the bends. She soon realizes that the net seems to be providing its own pressurization system. How odd, thinks Liz, that Elsewhere has advanced netting technology. What makes a civilization develop sophisticated nets? she wonders. Maybe it's the Liz forces all thoughts of nets from her mind and tries to focus on the situation at hand.
Despite being captured, Liz is in high spirits. She is reasonably sure that her mission has been a success. Of course, no one had prepared her for the odd way one communicated from the Well: all the loud faucets, Liz's disembodied voice like an irate teapot. Is this what it means to be a ghost?
Liz latches her fingers into the netting. She wonders where she is being taken. Clearly, her little trip has gotten her into some sort of trouble. But all things considered, she is glad she went.
As she reaches the surface, Liz braces herself for the cool night air. Even in her expensive wet suit, she begins to shiver. Liz pulls off her diving mask and sees a white tugboat in the middle of the water. She can barely make out a dark-haired man standing on the deck. As she is drawn closer, Liz can see that he is wearing sunglasses even though it is night. She determines that he is probably older than her, but younger than Curtis Jest. (Of course, determining actual ages is a particularly tricky business in Elsewhere.) The man seems familiar, but Liz can't quite place him.
The net opens, and Liz is unceremoniously dumped onto the boat. As soon as she hits the deck, the man begins to speak to her in a stern voice: "Elizabeth Marie Hall, I am Detective Owen Welles of the Elsewhere Bureau of Supernatural Crime and Contact. Are you aware that by attempting to Contact the living, you are in violation of Elsewhere law?"
"Yes," Liz says in a strong voice.
Owen Welles appears to be taken aback by Liz's response. This woman, girl really, freely admits that she has broken the law. Most people at least try to dissemble.
"Would you mind taking off those sunglasses?" Liz asks.
"Why?"
"I want to see your eyes. I want to know how much trouble I'm in." Liz smiles.
Detective Owen Welles is somewhat defensive about his sunglasses. He never goes anywhere without them, because he believes they make him look more authoritative. And why is she smiling?
"You can't actually need sunglasses right now," Liz says. "It is night, after all."
Liz is starting to annoy Owen. He hates when people mention that he wears his sunglasses at night. Now, he definitely won't take them off.
"Owen Welles," Liz repeats the name aloud. "O. Welles, like 'Oh well'!" Liz begins to laugh, even though she knows her joke isn't a particularly good one.
"Right, I've never heard that before." Owen does not laugh.
"Oh well," Liz says, and then she laughs again. "Isn't it odd that your last name should be Welles, and you happen to work at the Well?"
"What's odd about that?" Owen demands.
"Not so much odd as coincidental, I suppose," Liz says. "Um, can I just get my punishment or my ticket or whatever, and get out of here?"
"I have to show you something first. Follow me," he says.
Owen leads Liz across the main deck to a telescope that is mounted at the stern. "Look," he orders Liz.
Liz obeys. The telescope works much like the binoculars on the Observation Decks. Through the eyepiece, Liz sees inside her house again. Her brother is kneeling in her parents' closet, his hands feeling frantically for loose floorboards. Alvy keeps mumbling to himself, "She said it was in your closet."
"Oh no!" Liz exclaims. "He's in the wrong closet. Alvy, it's in mycloset!"
"He can't hear you," Owen says.
Through the telescope Liz can see her father yelling at poor Alvy. "Get out of there!" her father screams, pulling Alvy by his shirt collar so hard that it rips. "Why are you making up stories about Lizzie? She's dead, and I won't have you making up stories!"
Alvy starts to cry.
"He's not making it up! He just misunderstood." Liz feels her heart racing.
"I'm not making it up," Alvy protests. "Liz told me to. She told me to " Alvy stops speaking as Liz's father raises his hand to slap Alvy across the face.
"NO!" Liz yells.
"They can't hear you, Miss Hall," Owen says.
At the last moment, Liz's father stops himself. He takes a deep breath and slowly lowers his hand.
Liz watches as her father slumps to the floor and begins to sob. "Oh, Lizzie," he sobs, "Lizzie! My poor Lizzie! Lizzie!"
The telescope image blurs and then turns black. Liz takes a step back.
"My father doesn't believe in hitting," she says, her voice barely above a whisper, "and he almost hit Alvy."
"Now do you see?" asks Owen gently.
"Now do I see what?"
"It isn't any good to talk to the living, Liz. You think you're helping, but you only make matters worse."
Suddenly, Liz turns on Owen. "This is all your fault!" she says.
"My fault?"
"I might have made Alvy understand if you hadn't pulled me away before I was finished explaining!" Liz takes a step closer to Owen. "In fact, I want you to take me back now!"
"As if I'm really going to do that. Honestly. What nerve."
"If you won't help me, I'll do it myself!" Liz runs to the side of the tugboat. Owen chases after her, restraining her from diving overboard.
"LET ME GO!" she says. But Owen is stronger than Liz, and she has already had a long day. All at once, Liz feels very tired.
"I'm sorry," says Owen. "I'm really sorry, but this is the way it has to be."
"Why?" asks Liz. "Why does it have to be this way?" "
Because the living have to get on with their lives, and the dead have to get on with their lives, too."
Liz shakes her head.
Owen removes his sunglasses, revealing sympathetic dark eyes framed in long dark lashes. "If it matters," says Owen, "I know how you feel. I died young, too."