Elsewhere by Gabrielle Zevin Page B

long."
    Time passes slowly and quickly. The individual hours, minutes, and seconds seem to drag on, yet nearly a month has passed. In this time, Liz has become an expert at refilling the slots for minimal interruption between five-minute segments. She has deep-set circles underneath her eyes from keeping her face pressed up against the binoculars.
    Occasionally, Betty asks Liz if she's put any thought into an avocation.
    "I'm still taking some time," Liz always answers.
    Betty sighs. She doesn't want to press. "Thandiwe Washington called for you again. And Aldous Ghent."
    "Thanks. I'll try to call them back later this week," Liz lies.
    That night, Liz sees Betty kneeling by the side of the bed. Betty is praying to Liz's mother.
    "Olivia," she whispers, "I don't want to burden you, as I suspect your life is probably difficult enough right now. I don't know how to help Elizabeth. Please send me a sign telling me what to do."
    "Elizabeth, we are going out today," Betty announces the next morning.
    "I've got plans," Liz protests.
    "What plans?"
    "OD," Liz mumbles.
    "You can do that tomorrow. Today, we're going sightseeing."
    "But, Betty "
    "No buts. You've been here four whole weeks and you haven't seen a thing."
    "I've seen things," Liz says.
    "Yeah? Like what? And things back on Earth don't count."
    "Why not?" Liz demands.
    "They just don't." Betty is firm.
    "I don't want to go sightseeing," Liz says.
    "Tough luck," Betty replies. "I'm not giving you money for the OD today, so you don't have any choice."
    Liz sighs.
    "And if it isn't too much to ask, could you possibly wear something other than those dirty old pajamas?" Betty asks.
    "Nope," Liz replies.
    "I'll lend you something, or if you don't want that, we can buy you something on the "
    Liz interrupts her. "Nope."
    Outside, Betty rolls down the convertible top. "Do you want to drive?" she asks.
    "No." Liz opens the passenger door and sits.
    "Fine," Betty says as she fastens her seat belt. But a moment later she demands, "Well, why not?
    You should want to drive."
    Liz shrugs. "I just don't."
    "I'm not mad about that first night, if that's what you think," Betty says.
    "Listen, Betty, I don't want to drive because I don't want to drive. There's no secret meaning here.
    Furthermore, if the whole point of this trip is sightseeing, I wouldn't exactly be able to sightsee while I was concentrating on my driving, now would I?"
    "No, I suppose not," Betty concedes. "Aren't you going to wear your seat belt?"
    "What's the point?" Liz asks.
    "The same as on Earth: to keep you from crashing into the dashboard."
    Liz rolls her eyes but does fasten her seat belt.
    "I thought we'd go to the beach," Betty says. "How does that strike you?"
    "Whatever," Liz says.
    "Elsewhere has marvelous beaches, you know."
    "Fantastic. Wake me when we get there." To avoid further conversation, Liz closes her left eye and pretends to sleep. With her right eye, she watches the sights of Elsewhere out her window.
    Liz thinks how much it looks like Earth, and the resemblance makes her catch her breath. But there are differences, and those differences, as they tend to be, are in the details. Out her window, she spots a drive-in movie theater she has never seen one before except in vintage photographs. On the highway, a girl of about six or seven wears a business suit and drives an SUV. In the distance, she sees the Eiffel Tower and the Statue of Liberty, both rendered as topiaries. Along the side of the road, Liz sees a series of small wooden signs, spaced about ten meters apart. There is a single line of verse printed on each sign: YOU MAY BE DEAD,
    BUT YOUR BEARD GROWS ON,
    LADIES HATE STUBBLE,
    EVEN IN THE BEYOND.

    BURMA SHAVE

    "What's Burma Shave?" Liz asks Betty.
    "A kind of shaving cream. When I was alive, they used to have those wooden signs on all the highways in America," Betty answers. "Most of them were replaced by billboards by the time you were born, but they were quite popular for a time, as much