“I did,” Hugo said. He held up his hands as if calming a spooked animal. “And I promise there is nothing to be afraid of.”
She barked out a laugh, wet and harsh. “You don’t get to tell me what I—”
She gasped when Wallace grabbed a chair, lifting it up off the ground. The blood drained from her face, hand going to her throat. Wallace didn’t bring the chair to her, not wanting to frighten her more than she already was.
Instead, he carried the chair behind the counter toward the blackboard. “Careful, Wallace,” Nelson warned. “Don’t give her more than she’s ready for.”
“I know,” Wallace said through gritted teeth, nudging Apollo out of the way as he jumped around him, trying to figure out why Wallace was carrying a chair. He seemed to want to help, biting down on one of the chair legs before getting distracted by his tail.
Wallace set the chair on the floor before glancing back. Nancy hadn’t moved, jaw dropped at the sight of a chair floating through the air. He grunted as he climbed up on the chair. “Sorry about this,” he muttered before wiping his hand across the blackboard. The words—specials, prices, all around the quote about tea and family—smeared in white.
“Oh my god,” Nancy whispered. “What is this? What’s happening?”
Wallace lifted a piece of chalk from the base of the blackboard. He wrote one word.
SPARROW.
Nancy let out a strangled sob before rushing forward. “Lea? Oh my god, Lea?”
Underneath SPARROW, Wallace wrote: NO. NOT YOUR DAUGHTER. NOT HERE. I WISH SHE WERE. SHE HAS MOVED ON TO A BETTER PLACE.
“Is this a joke?” Nancy demanded, voice thick, eyes wet. “How the hell did you know about the sparrow? It … outside her hospital room. It always … who are you?”
Wallace wiped away the words before writing again, chalk scraping against the blackboard.
I DIED. HUGO IS TAKING CARE OF ME.
“Why are you even talking to me, then?” Nancy asked, wiping her face angrily. “You’re not who I want.”
I KNOW. BUT I HOPE IN HEARING FROM ME, YOU’LL UNDERSTAND THERE IS SOMETHING MORE BEYOND WHAT YOU KNOW.
“How am I supposed to believe you?” Nancy cried. “Stop. Stop playing with me. It hurts. Can’t you see that? It hurts so much.” Her voice broke.
THE GIVING TREE.
Nancy flinched. “What?”
“Hugo,” Wallace whispered. “I … can’t. It’s too much. It’s up to you now.” He dropped the chalk to the floor. It shattered. He almost fell off the chair, but Nelson was there, grabbing onto his legs, keeping him from collapsing. He sat down roughly, his strength draining.
“No,” Nancy whispered, taking a stuttering step forward. “No, no, come back. Come back!”
“Nancy,” the ferryman said.
Nancy turned, bone white.
“It was her favorite book,” Hugo said quietly, and Wallace sat upright, Nelson gripping his hand tightly. Apollo sat next to them, tail swishing back and forth. Mei looked pale, her hand at her throat. “She loved the voices you did when you read it to her. Even though she learned to read on her own, she always wanted you to read it to her. There was something about your voice, something warm and beautiful that she always wanted to hear.”
“You can’t know that,” she said hoarsely. “It was just her and me. Our thing.” She sounded as if she were choking.
“She told me,” Hugo said. “She was so happy when she did. She spoke of picking apples in the fall, and the way you laughed when she ate more than she picked.”
Nancy covered her mouth with her hand.
Hugo took a step toward her, slow and deliberate. “She was sad, too, because she missed you.” His voice cracked, but he pushed through it. “Her body was tired. She fought as hard as she could, but it was too much for her. She was brave because of you. For you. You taught her joy and love and fire. You went to the zoo because she wanted to see polar bears. You took her to the museum because she wanted to touch dinosaur bones. You danced in your living room. The music was loud, and you danced. Once, she knocked over a vase. You told her it was just a little thing, and there was no need to be upset when it could be replaced.”
Nancy began to sob. It crawled from her chest, the monster of grief, trying to drag her down into the depths.
“Fight,” Wallace whispered. “Oh, please, fight it.”
“She loved you,” Hugo continued, “and she loves you still. No matter what comes next, that will never change. One day, you’ll see her again. One day, you’ll look upon her face. There will be no more pain. There will be no more sorrow. You’ll know peace because you’ll be together. But that day is not today.”
“Why?” Nancy said, and it was such a desperate thing that Wallace bowed his head. “Why can’t I have her? Why does it have to hurt so much? Why can’t I breathe?”
Hugo stopped in front of her. He hesitated before touching the back of her hand briefly. Nancy didn’t try to pull away. “She isn’t gone. Not really. Just … moved on.”
“Who are you?” she whispered.
“Someone who cares,” Hugo replied. “I … lied to you. Before. When you first came here. And for that, I’m sorrier than you could know. I didn’t mean to hurt you. I didn’t mean to make you feel worse. I help people. Like her. I help them cross. And we…” He swallowed thickly. “And I—we did that. We showed her the path forward. Lives don’t end. They move on.” He paused. “Do you remember the last thing you said to her?”
Nancy deflated, curling in on herself. “Yes.”
“You said go. Go wherever you need to go. To the center of the earth. To the stars. To the—”
“To the moon to see if it’s made of cheese,” she whispered.
Hugo smiled. “The sickness is gone.”
Nancy glanced at the blackboard, the smear of words, before turning back to Hugo. “Did you do this?”
He shook his head. “It wasn’t me. But it was someone very important to me. And you can believe every single word written.”
She watched him for a long time. “I’ll be here. Whenever you’re ready, I’ll be here. That’s what you keep telling me.”
He nodded.
“Why?” she asked as she trembled. “Why do you care so much?”
“Because I don’t know how else to be.”
For a moment, Wallace thought it’d be too much for her. That they’d pushed too hard. He was surprised when she squared her shoulders. She looked at Mei, who waved at her with a small smile. Then, to Hugo, “I’d like a cup of tea, if that’s all right.”
“Okay,” Hugo said. “I’ve always thought tea was a good place to start. And whenever you’re ready, if you’re ready, you’ll know where to find me.” He nodded toward the table where the tea tray sat. “Milk or sugar?”
“No. Just as it is.”
Wallace looked on as Hugo poured the tea into two cups, one for her, and one for him. He handed Nancy a cup before taking his own. He watched her as she brought the teacup toward her face, inhaling deeply. Her hands started to shake, though no tea spilled. “Is that…”