row of giant apartment buildings stretched into the distance as far as she could see. At the far end of the long street, off to her left, was a huge white marble building. It looked like a strange combination of a fairy-tale castle and a cathedral.
“What’s that?” she asked, pointing to the building.
“That’s City Hall.”
“Dead people have a city hall?”
“We prefer the term
It was the kind of dumb joke he used to make back home, and hearing him say something so ridiculous felt really good.
Next, they went on the roller coaster. It was enormous, bigger than any coaster Zoe had ever seen in the living world. She was a little nervous getting into the front car, but her father was so happy and confident that she went anyway. The coaster was like the one at Coney Island, old and made of wood. It clacked and creaked the whole time their little car crept to the crest of the first drop. Near the top, Zoe looked down and the city was nothing but a bright toy at the bottom of the Grand Canyon. She closed her eyes and grabbed on to her father’s sleeve. He put his big hand over hers and they stayed like that the rest of the way up.
Then the clicking stopped, and they began to fall. Zoe’s stomach rose up into her throat. Then she heard something new. It was her father screaming at the top of his lungs, the big, insane whoop that people always made on roller-coaster drops. She felt her father’s arms go up into the air as the whoop went on and on. Zoe opened her eyes a crack at the bottom, just as the roller coaster whipped them around the first corner. She let go of her father’s sleeve and tried to whoop, too. He took her hand and held it up with his, and they whooped together, screaming like idiots, with pure joy as the sun came down slowly over the sea.
Something unclenched inside Zoe, almost without her being aware of it until the feeling had begun to pass. For the first time in what seemed like a million years, she felt all right. She might even have called the feeling happy. She smiled and it wasn’t the rueful half smiles of her recent life, but a real one. She and her father were together, side by side, and she felt whole and healed in a way that all the words and doctors and pills in the world couldn’t have fixed. And she saw that he was happy, too, just to be with her. And that was enough.
Later, as they strolled along the boardwalk, Zoe asked, “Where do you live?”
He nodded toward the apartment buildings. “Back there a few blocks.”
“How many people are there here?”
“I don’t know. The buses bring new people all the time.”
They stopped and leaned on the rusty metal fence separating the boardwalk from the beach. The sun was just falling below the horizon, and night was spreading like a dark tide across the sky. A few yellow stars flickered faintly high above.
“I hate to say it, but it’s time for you to go,” her father said.
“Can’t I stay a little longer?”
“When I came down to the beach tonight, it was because a little voice whispered in my ear that I should go to the bus stop at the boardwalk. Now that voice is telling me that I have to take you back.”
“You can get on the bus, too. Come back with me.”
“I can’t leave here yet. It’s not my time.”
“I don’t want to go.”
“You have to go. I want you to go,” he said. “This is a place for the dead, not a living girl. No matter how beautiful she is, or how wonderful it is to see her.”
Zoe looked down at her feet. “Walk me back?”
“Try to stop me.”
Zoe looped her arm in her father’s and held on to him tight all the way to the bus stop. Lights had come on in the restaurant and the bar. The movie-theater marquee was lit up. The street looked like something from a pleasant dream of the perfect small town.
A bus was already waiting when they reached the end of the boardwalk. Zoe’s father pulled her close and kissed the top of her head.
“Go and live your life,” he said. “Be happy. Be crazy. And always remember that I love you.”
“I love you, too, Dad.”
At the bus’s entrance, her father said, “Your mother doesn’t know about any of this, does she?”
Zoe shook her head. Her father nodded and smiled. “It’ll be our secret,” he said. “But when you get home, promise to kiss her for me.”
“I will.”
He held her hand as she got on the bus. Zoe found a window seat and pressed her palms against the glass, as if she could reach through it and touch her dad’s arm one more time. The bus engine rumbled to life. Her father blew her a kiss as the bus pulled away. Zoe closed her eyes. She thought she was going to cry, but she felt the ground open up and the powerful sense of falling. Then the surging tides that had carried her to her father and Iphigene swept her away.
Zoe gasped when she came down, back into her body. But she was happy. Excited even. A few small tears lingered on her cheeks. She took a long, deep breath and wiped them away.
“So, was it what you wanted?” asked Emmett.
“Oh, man. It was a million times better than I hoped for. I feel like I’m flying.”
“Good. Not everyone is so chipper when they come back. I’m glad you are.”
Zoe felt Emmett bustling around her, loosening the straps, unhooking wires. Suddenly the blinders came off her eyes and she could see again. The old store looked wonderful. Even Emmett looked wonderful. Everything was perfect. She didn’t even need the aspirin Emmett had given her.
“I want to take him home with me,” said Zoe.
“You want your father’s disc?”
“Yes. I know it’ll cost me something, so just tell me the price and I’ll pay it.”
He tugged at the last few Animagraph straps. “Look how eager you are,” he said. “You must have had a wonderful time.”
Zoe recognized his tone as the beginning of a negotiation. “I did. Thanks for helping me get there. What do you want for the disc?”
“You don’t even have an Animagraph. What will you do with him?”
“I don’t want to play the disc,” Zoe said. “I just don’t like the idea of my father’s soul stuffed in some dusty bin like old socks.”
“Of course,” replied Emmett, nodding and scratching his chin like he was thinking. “The price is this: your blood. Not much. Just a few drops of blood on a tissue or cloth. Give me that and you can take dear old dad home with you.”
Zoe looked at Emmett and didn’t hesitate. “I’ll bring it tomorrow.”
“I can help you do it now. I’m sure I have a straight pin or box cutter behind the counter somewhere.”
Zoe looked at Emmett’s rumpled clothes and dirty fingernails. The dust on the record bins. “No thanks. I can do it.”
“I was just kidding,” said Emmett with good humor. “This will be a snap for you. You’re a strong girl.”
“Keep my dad’s disc handy,” she said. “I’ll be back at the same time tomorrow.”
“We’ll be waiting with bows on.” Zoe left the shop while Emmett was still putting away the Animagraph, too filled with restless energy to stand still.
Outside, the San Francisco night air was crisp and perfect. The fog was rolling in from the ocean. Emmett’s quirks couldn’t touch her buoyant mood. Besides, she’d finally figured him out. He was like those Japanese businessmen she’d read about. The ones who pay all that money for schoolgirls’ panties.
The night remained perfect, beautiful, a frozen moment of goodness, but she had to admit she was getting chilly in nothing but her jeans and an old Circle Jerks T-shirt. She stuffed her hands deep into her pockets to warm them up. Something crinkled against her fingers. She pulled it out. It was the butterscotch candy the old woman in Iphigene had given her. Zoe unwrapped it and popped it into her mouth. It didn’t taste like much of anything at all,
