Adeline stepped into the chamber. Elliott joined her. The body bag with the Syntran replica was there waiting, ready to go back.
At the command station, Adeline’s father and Hiro checked the departure sequence one last time. Sam looked up at them, smiled, and Absolom Island disappeared.
*
Adeline and Elliott arrived in a small bedroom. Dirty clothes lay in heaps on the floor. Rock-and-roll posters covered the walls. An unmade bed filled most of the room. On a bedside table, a lava lamp belched lumps of red wax that floated free and tangled together.
Through the closed door to the living room, music was playing, “Undone – The Sweater Song” by Weezer.
The body bag was lying on the floor to the right of the door.
Elliott began breathing faster. Adeline sensed that being here again was triggering for him. The pain of what he remembered happening in the next room was still real for him, even with the prospect of saving his son. The next few minutes would decide his fate. It had happened this way once—and must happen again.
“What now?” Elliott whispered.
“You go out there.”
Elliott shrugged, fear in his eyes. “And?”
Adeline put a hand on his shoulder. “And say what you wish you had said when he was alive—the words you’ve held inside all these years.”
Elliott swallowed and nodded.
Adeline knew that what came next would be a sort of surgical operation—performed with words. Elliott knew his son was sick. In the next room, he was lying on the table, waiting for the conversation that would save him and set him on a new path.
When Elliott opened the bedroom door, the Weezer song was winding down, and Charlie’s voice rang out. “Hey!”
“Charlie—”
“How’d you get in here? You broke into my apartment!”
“I just want to talk—”
“Get out! Get. Out.”
“Son, listen to me. Please.”
“I’m calling the cops.”
“We both know you’re not going to do that. And I know something else. I know that if you stick that needle in your arm, it will be the last thing you ever do. You won’t get high, Charlie. What’s in there will take everything from you. I know you’ve already had a lot tonight. You can’t take any more.”
“How… What—”
“I’m asking you to trust me. If you don’t, it’ll be the last thing you ever do. I promise you, Charlie. I know it seems like you can never get away from your troubles, that they’re always in your mind. You’ve self-medicated, and you’ve tried to get clean, and what you’re holding now is the only thing that’s ever made you feel any better. But only for a short time. There’s a better way, son. I’m asking you to give me five minutes to show you. That’s all.”
Another song started up, “18 and Life” by Skid Row. The opening chords partially blotted out the voices, but through the din, Elliott’s voice broke through, filled with emotion, cracking.
“I can’t imagine.”
A second later, he said, “Put it down, Charlie. Please.”
As she waited, Adeline’s heart pounded in her chest. Every second felt like an eternity. She felt tears well in her eyes as the door opened.
Elliott came into view. He was crying too, the tears flowing down his face.
The door swung wider, and Charlie was standing there. His black hair was greasy and stringy. He was rail-thin, cheeks gaunt, eyes sunken. But he was alive.
“Who are you?”
“Charlie,” Elliott said slowly, “this is Adeline Anderson.”
He shook his head. “No way. Adeline Anderson is like thirteen years old.”
“Not anymore,” Elliott said, staring at her. “She’s all grown up now. And she’s the reason I’m here.”
Adeline held out her hands as Charlie had done so many years ago at one of her birthday parties and repeated the words he had said to her: “Want to fly?”
He squinted, and Adeline was surprised when he recited the line she had said back. “Will it make me dizzy?”
“Yes. But you’ll like it.”
Charlie held out his pale, bone-thin hands, and Adeline put a recall ring around his wrist.
“We’re going to take a trip,” Adeline said. “Your dad will join us soon.”
“Remind me again,” Elliott said, “what should I tell her?”
“That she can never speak of seeing you here—until we all meet at Nora’s house. She’ll know when. And when that time comes, to tell you that everything is going to be all right.”