Elsewhere by Gabrielle Zevin Page A

binoculars away. She realizes she doesn't want to know this much about Amadou Bonamy. Amadou Bonamy is a murderer. He is my murderer, she thinks. He needs to pay. Like her mother had said, it isn't right to hit people with dirty old cabs, and then leave them to die in the street. Liz's pulse races. She needs to find a way to tell her parents about Amadou Bonamy. She stands up and walks out of the Observation Deck, feeling flush with purpose and more alive than she has felt in some time.
    On her way out of the building, Liz passes Esther.
    "Glad to see you leaving while it's still daylight out for once," Esther says.
    "Yeah." Liz stops. "Esther," she says, "you wouldn't know how to make Contact with the living, would you?"
    "Contact?" says Esther. "Why in the world do you want to know about that? Contact's for damned fools. Nothing good's ever come out of talking to the living. Nothing but hurt and bother. And goodness knows, we've all got enough of that already."
    Liz sighs. Given Esther's response, Liz knows she can't ask just anyone about Contact. Not Betty, who is worried enough about Liz already. Or Thandi, who is probably angry at her for not returning her calls. Or Aldous Ghent, who would never in a million years help Liz make Contact.
    Only one person might help her, and that was Curtis Jest. Unfortunately, Liz hadn't seen him since the day of their funerals back on the Nile.
    Early on, several news stories had run on Elsewhere about Curtis's death. Because Curtis was a rock star and celebrity, people were interested in his arrival. The funny thing was, most of the people on Elsewhere hadn't even heard his music. Curtis was popular among people of Liz's generation, and there were relatively few people from Liz's generation on Elsewhere. So interest declined quickly. By Liz's birthday, Curtis Jest had faded into total obscurity.
    Liz decides to brave calling Thandi, who now works at a television station as an announcer. She reads the names of upcoming arrivals to Elsewhere so that people know to go to the Elsewhere pier to greet them. Liz thinks Thandi might have news of Curtis Jest's whereabouts.
    "Why do you want to talk to him?" Thandi asks. Her voice is hostile.
    "He happens to be a very interesting person," Liz says.
    "They say he became a fisherman," Thandi says. "You'll probably find him down at the docks."
    A fisherman? she thinks. Fishing seems so ordinary. It doesn't make any sense. "Why would Curtis Jest be a fisherman?" Liz asks.
    "Beats me. Maybe he likes to fish?" Thandi suggests.
    "But there are musicians on Elsewhere. Why wouldn't Curtis want to be a musician?"
    Thandi sighs. "He already did that once, Liz. And it obviously didn't make him very happy."
    Liz remembers those long marks and bruises on his arms. She isn't sure she will ever forget them. Still, it seems entirely wrong for Curtis to be anything other than a musician. Maybe she will ask him about that when she goes to see him.
    "Thanks for the information," Liz says.
    "You're welcome," Thandi replies. "But you know, Elizabeth, it isn't right that you don't return a person's call for months and months, and when you finally get it in your head to call, you're only asking about someone else. No apology. Not even a single 'How you doing, Thandi?' "
    "I'm sorry, Thandi. How are you?" Liz asks. Despite appearances, Liz does feel guilty that she's ignored Thandi.
    "Fine," Thandi answers.
    "It hasn't been the best time for me," Liz apologizes.
    "You think it's easy for me? You think it's easy for any of us?" Thandi hangs up on Liz.
    Liz takes the bus down to the Elsewhere docks. Sure enough, she spots Curtis right away, fishing pole in one hand, cup of coffee in the other. He's wearing a faded red plaid shirt, and his formerly pale skin has a golden hue. His blue hair is almost completely grown out, but his blue eyes remain as vivid as ever. Liz doesn't know if Curtis will remember her. Luckily, he smiles as soon as he sees her.
    "Hello, Lizzie," Curtis