"O, Wonder/How many goodly creatures are there here!/How beauteous mankind is! O brave new world/That has such people in't!"
--The Tempest, Act V, Scene I
One Year Later
Sarah entered the house as she had so many times before. "Hey, Teri! How are you doing?"
"Tired," said the weary host, smiling as she cleared off her dining room table. "Be quiet, I finally got Trina down for her nap."
"You know I've got some time off next week. Why don't you let me watch her? She's so dang cute. Jake would've loved her to death."
"He did," said Teri, quietly. She'd almost reached closure now. Jake had given up everything for them, she knew. It was horrible to lose her husband. But she was so proud of what he'd done for them.
It almost made up for him leaving her alone with a three-month-old.
Almost.
"I saw you on The Daily Show last week. I can't believe you actually shrunk Jon Stewart!"
"He asked me to. Besides, how are we ever going to get people used to this thing if we treat it like it's the lost secret of Ramses? I figure it's better to show people that it's just a thing—that way, maybe they don't panic when someone actually uses the power."
"Well, if you ask me, he was pretty focused on your breasts, Sar. Scott jealous?"
Sarah grinned wickedly. "Yes. Constantly. God, can you imagine how he'd be if I'd actually said yes to Playboy?"
"No. The poor boy is paranoid enough as it is. By the way, where is Scott?"
"The hearings."
"Ah, yes," said Teri, glad her widowhood had at least spared her that spectacle. The government was dealing with GTS the way it dealt with any perceived threat—by trying to control it.
But of course, you can't control it. It's a force of nature, like an earthquake or a tsunami. Scott had said as much the day before, angrily staring down a righteous Pennsylvania senator who had spoken a bit too carelessly about the moral impact of this power.
"When do you testify?"
"Next week. You'd think they'd actually schedule Scott and I together. But I suppose they're afraid of what we might do!" said Sarah, ruefully. She hadn't seen nearly enough of her husband in the last year. Celebrity had its drawbacks.
"At any rate, I just wanted to see how you're doing, Teri. I haven't seen you enough lately."
"I'm okay," said Teri, meaning it. "You know, I was a psychic before this all happened.
That didn't change. I used to know how to attempt to contact the dead, and I didn't forget
it."
"You've talked to Jake?" said Sarah.
"Not exactly," said Teri. "It's not like we've got cell phones. Communicating with the dead is about emotion and feelings. It's about talking with the soul, not the mind.
"But yeah…I think I've reached him once or twice."
Sarah was quiet, as Teri closed her eyes and smiled. "It was like an island in the Atlantic,
cool and calm, but chilly like New England, or maybe Canada. He put his arms around
me and held me for as long as he could. He had work to do, I think. But he was glad to
see me. Glad I came. And best of all, he was happy."
"Did you tell him about Trina?"
"He knew," said Teri. "The one sentence I know he said was 'Tell Katrina I love her.' And I do, every day."
"She'll be proud of her daddy, Teri. We all are."
"I know," said Teri. "Which reminds me—what's going to happen to Liz?"
"Ah," said Sarah, smiling. "We've sort of reached an understanding with the Madison police. She'll serve a life sentence, reduced to six inches tall at league headquarters."
"It's almost unfair," said Teri. "As much as I want to hate her, I know 'she' didn't want this."
"No," said Sarah, "but she did it; she's responsible. And she's the first one to say it. But
you know, it's funny; she's almost becoming an asset. She lets people try out new spells
on her, she'll scrimmage trainees—she's going to pay her debt, and then some."
The two women talked some more before Sarah bade her farewell. Teri smiled as Sarah's
car left the driveway, then sighed as the cry of a baby broke her reverie.
She walked up the stairs and lifted the little girl into the air. She had her father's eyes, thought Teri. And a bit of his soul, as well.
* * *
Meanwhile, in another place, a man wandered along a beach.
The beach didn't really exist; it was a metaphor—at least, that's what He said, and He would know, wouldn't He?
When the man thought about it more, he thought that He was having a good joke.
He tossed a pebble into the ocean (which was a simile—dang it, it was a joke!), and sighed happily. She'd come to visit him, finally—and he'd hugged her and told her everything he could. He knew she wouldn't understand it all. He knew he was lucky she understood any of it. But he'd kissed her anyhow, and as she faded back to her world, he cherished her memory anew.
It had been a good life. The best of all his lives. But now, he had new challenges. And he would meet them all.
"Jacob! We're meeting!"
The young woman smiled as she passed him, moving quickly up the hill to the God-Teachers' Guild. "Well, you coming?"
"Of course, Katrin," he said, cheerfully. Without a care in the world, he bounded up the hill. It was a good life, he thought, in that world, or the next.
THE END