Wallace felt like he was on fire. “I…”
“Yes,” the Manager said. “I thought as much. Let me help you answer that. Your being here makes you a distraction in ways Nelson and Apollo aren’t. A distracted ferryman is one who’ll make mistakes. Hugo has a job to do, one that is far more important than his feelings.” He grimaced. “Terrible things, those. I’ve watched and waited, allowing this farce of a happy little home to play out, but it’s time to move things along to ensure Hugo does what he was hired to do.” He grinned. “Which is why I’m going to tell you what’ll happen next.”
Wallace didn’t like the sound of that. “What?”
The boy cocked his head as he studied Wallace. “How to put this in ways you can understand. How … to … put—Ah!” He clapped his hands. “You’re a lawyer.” His lips quirked. “Well, you were. I’m like you, in a way. Death, my dear man, is the law, and I’m the judge. There are rules and regulations. Sure, the bureaucracy of it all can be a little tiresome, and the monotony is killer, but we need the rule of law so we know how to be, how to act.” The smile slid from his face. “And yet, it’s always why. Why, why, why. I hate that question above all others.” And then his voice changed, becoming a frightened woman’s. “Why do I have to go?” His voice changed again, becoming a man’s, old and frail. “Why can’t I have more time?” Again, this time a child. “Why can’t I stay?”
“Stop,” Wallace said hoarsely. “Please stop.”
When the Manager spoke again, his voice returned to normal. “I’ve heard it all.” He frowned. “I hate it. But never more so than I do right now, because I find myself asking why. Why is Wallace Price still here? Why doesn’t he move on?” He shook his head as if disappointed. “That leads to me asking myself why I should care at all. You want to know what I realized?”
“No,” Wallace whispered.
“I realized that you’re an aberration. A flaw in the system that’s worked so well. And what does one do with flaws as someone in charge, Wallace? To keep the things running as they should?”
Fire them. Remove them from the equation. Replace the part so the machine can run smoothly. Distantly, Wallace thought of Patricia Ryan, sitting across from him in his office.
“Exactly,” the Manager said as if Wallace had spoken aloud. He tapped his fingers against his knee. The bottoms of his feet were dirty. “Which is why I’ve made an executive decision.” He grinned, the violet of his eyes moving like liquid. “One week. I’ll give you one more week to put your affairs in order. This isn’t meant to be forever, Wallace. A way station such as this exists to allow you to regroup, to accept the inevitable. You’ve changed in the weeks since your arrival. So different from the man I saw fleeing in the dead of night.”
“But—”
The boy held up his hand. “I’m not finished. Please don’t interrupt me again. I don’t like being interrupted.” When he saw Wallace snap his mouth closed, he continued. “You’ve been given more than enough time to process your life spent on this Earth. You were not a kind man, Wallace, or even a just one. You were selfish and mean. Not quite as cruel as you claim I am, but it was close. I don’t recognize that man in you. Not anymore. Death has opened your eyes. I can see the good in you now, and what you’re willing to do for those you care about. Because you do care about them, don’t you?”
“Yes,” Wallace said gruffly.
“I figured. And really, I can see why. They’re certainly … unique.”
“I know they are. There’s no one like them.”
The boy laughed again. “I’m glad we can at least agree on that.” He sobered. “One week, dear Wallace. I’ll give you one more week. In seven days, I shall return. I’ll bring you to this door. I will see you through it because that’s the way it’s supposed to be.”
“And if I refuse?”
The boy shrugged. “Then you do. I hope you won’t, but I can’t promise that this will go on for much longer. You aren’t meant to be here. Not like this. Perhaps in another life, you could have found your way to this place, and made the most of it.”
“I don’t want to go,” Wallace said. “I’m not ready.”
“I know that,” the boy said, for the first time sounding irritated. “Which is why I’m giving you a week rather than making you go now.” His face darkened. “Don’t mistake my offer for anything but what it is. There is no loophole, no last-minute bit of evidence you can fling upon the courtroom in a display of your legal prowess. I can make you do things, Wallace. I don’t want to, but I can.”
Dazed, Wallace said, “I … maybe it’d be different. I’ve changed. You’ve said as much. I—”
“No,” the boy said, shaking his head. “It’s not the same. You aren’t Nelson, the grandfather who guided Hugo after the loss of his parents. You aren’t Apollo, who helped Hugo to breathe when his lungs collapsed in his chest. You are an outsider, an anomaly. The options I’ve laid out for you—going through the door or running the risk of losing all you’ve gained—are your only options. You’re a disruption, Wallace, and though I’ve allowed certain … concessions in the spirit of magnanimity, don’t make the mistake of thinking I’ll look the other way for you. This was always temporary.”
“And what about Cameron?” Wallace demanded. “And all the others like him?”
The boy looked surprised. “The Husks? Why do you care?”
I’m still here. I’m still here.
“He’s not gone,” Wallace said. “He’s still there. Part of him still exists. Help him, and I’ll do whatever you want.”
The boy shook his head slowly. “I’m not here to bargain with you, Wallace. I thought you were beyond that stage already. You’re into the fabled land of acceptance, or at least you were. Don’t backtrack on me now.”
“It’s not for me,” Wallace snapped. “It’s for him.”
“Ah,” the boy said. “Is it? What would you have me do? Cure him? He knew the risks when he chose to leave the grounds.” He stood, wiping his hands off on the front of his jeans. “I’m glad we’ve had this talk. It’s been a pleasure meeting you, and believe me, that’s not something I say often.” He grimaced. “Humans are untidy. I’d rather keep my distance if possible. It’s easier when they agree with me, as you have.”
“I didn’t agree to anything!” Wallace cried.
The boy pouted. “Aw. Well, I’m sure you’ll come around to it. One week, Wallace. What will you do with the time you have left? I can’t wait to find out. Tell the others, or don’t. It doesn’t concern me either way. And don’t worry about the health inspector. He won’t remember a thing.” The boy tipped Wallace a jaunty salute. “See you soon.”
And then he vanished.