Wallace said nothing. As much as he hated to admit it, the Manager had a point. Shouldn’t he trust Hugo to know what was right for himself?
The boy nodded as if Wallace’s silence was tacit agreement. He slid from the chair before turning around and lifting it up. He flipped it over and put it back on the table, wiping his hands on his jeans once he’d finished. He glanced at the health inspector and sighed. “People are so strange. Just when I think I have you all figured out, you go and make a mess of things.” Absurdly, he sounded almost fond.
He turned back toward Wallace, clapping his hands. “Okay. Let’s get a move on. Time is short. Well, not for me, but for the rest of you. Follow me, if you please.”
“Where are we going?”
“To show you the truth,” the boy said. He went to Alan, looking up at him and smiling sadly. He reached out and touched Alan’s hip, shaking his head. “Oh. Yes. This one. I’m sorry for what you’ve been through. I’ll do my best to make it better.”
And then, before Wallace could do anything to stop him, he puckered his lips and blew a thin stream of air toward Alan, cheeks bulging. Wallace blinked as a hook materialized in Alan’s chest, a cable growing and extending between him and Hugo. The Manager curled his fingers around the hook and yanked. It pulled free. The cable connecting Alan to Hugo dulled. The Manager dropped the hook, and as it hit the floor, it and the cable turned to dust. “There,” he said. “That’s better.” He turned and headed farther into the house.
Wallace looked down at his own cable, still connecting him to Hugo. The cable flashed weakly, the hook shivering in his chest. He was about to touch it, to allow himself the reminder it was there, it was real, when Alan rose a few inches off the floor, floating though still frozen. The boy looked back at Wallace from the entry to the hallway. “Coming, Wallace?”
“If I say no?”
The boy shrugged. “Then you do. But I wish you wouldn’t.”
Wallace stumbled back when Alan began to rise toward the ceiling. “Where are you taking him?”
“Home,” the boy said simply. He disappeared down the hallway. Wallace looked at Alan in time to see his feet disappear through the ceiling, concentric circles undulating outward.
He did the only thing he could.
He followed the Manager.
He knew where they were going, and though he’d never been more frightened in his life, he still climbed the stairs, each step harder than the last.
He passed by the second floor. The third. All the windows were black, as if all light had vanished from the world.
He stopped near the fourth floor landing, peering through the railing. The Manager stood below the door. Alan floated up through the floor, stopping next to him, suspended in air.
“I’m not going to force you through the door,” the boy said mildly. “If that’s what you’re thinking.”
“And Alan?” Wallace asked, climbing the last few stairs.
“Alan’s a different case. I’ll do what I must for him.”
“Why?”
The boy laughed. “So many questions. Why, why, why. You’re funny, Wallace. It’s because he’s becoming dangerous. Obviously.”
“You’re going to make him go through the door.”
The boy looked back at him over his shoulder. “Yes.”
“How is that fair?”
The boy looked confused. “Death? How is it not? You’re born, yes. You live and breathe and dance and ache, but you die. Everyone dies. Everything dies. Death is cleansing. The pain of a mortal life is gone.”
“Tell that to Alan,” Wallace growled. “He’s hurting. He’s filled with anger—”
The boy turned, frowning. “Because he’s still stuck here. He doesn’t see the way things should be. Not everyone can adapt as well as you.” He gnawed on his bottom lip. “Or Nelson or Apollo. I like them too. They wouldn’t be here if I didn’t.”
“And Lea?” Wallace snapped. “What about her? Where were you when she needed you? When Hugo needed you?” A thought struck him, terrible and harsh. “Or did what happened to Cameron keep you away?”
The boy’s shoulders slumped. “I never claimed to be perfect, Wallace. Perfection is a flaw in itself. Lea was … it shouldn’t have happened the way it did. The Reaper was out of line, and he paid for it dearly.” He shook his head. “I manage, Wallace. But even I can’t manage everyone all the time. Free will is paramount, though it can get a bit messy at times. I don’t interfere unless there’s no other way.”
“And so they’re supposed to suffer because of what you can’t do?”
The boy sighed. “I can see where you’re coming from. Thanks for the feedback, Wallace. I’ll take it into consideration going forward.”
“Feedback?” Wallace said, outraged. “That’s what you’re calling it?”
“It’s either that or you’re telling me what I can and cannot do. I’m giving you the benefit of the doubt, because I choose to believe you can’t possibly be that stupid.” He turned his face up toward the door. It vibrated in its frame, the leaves and flowers carved into the wood bursting to life. The crystal leaf in the doorknob glittered.
“I like you,” the boy said again without looking at him. He raised his hand toward the door, curling his fingers. “Which is why I’m going to tell you how things will go.” He twisted his hand sharply.
The doorknob on the ceiling above them turned.
The latch clicked, the crystal leaf flashing brightly.
The door opened slowly, swinging down toward them.
Hugo had told him what he’d seen when the door opened, how it made him feel. And still, Wallace wasn’t prepared for what happened next. Light spilled out so bright that he had to look away. He thought he heard birds singing on the other side, but the whispers from the door were too loud for him to be sure. He lifted his head in time to see the Manager push gently on the bottom of Alan’s feet. Before Wallace could open his mouth, Alan rose swiftly, passing through the doorway. The light pulsed before it faded. The door slammed shut. It took only seconds.
“He’ll find peace,” the boy said. “With time, he’ll find himself again.” He turned and sank to the floor, legs crossed in front of him. He looked up at Wallace still standing near the stairs.
“What did you do?” Wallace whispered.
“Helped him along his journey,” the boy said. “I find that sometimes people need a little push in the right direction.”
“What happened to free will?”
The boy grinned. It chilled Wallace to the bone. “You’re smarter than I gave you credit for. Fun! Think of it as … hmm. Ah. Think of it as a gentle nudge in the right direction. Can’t have him turning into a Husk. I don’t like to think what that would do to Hugo. Not again. He took it so hard the first time. It’s why I’ve allowed Nelson and Apollo to stay as long as they have, to keep him from abandoning his calling.”
“So we only have free will until … what? It interferes with your order?”
The Manager chuckled. “Precisely! Good for you, Wallace. Order is absolutely paramount. Without it, we’d be stumbling in the dark. Which brings me to you. You’ve been here a long time, much longer than any other aside from Nelson and Apollo. And for what? Do you even know? What is your purpose?”