CHAPTER FORTY-ONE

Crosby does a double take when he sees who I’ve brought to his office. “Hey kids, what’s up?”

“I should ask you the same thing. What are you doing working on a Saturday?”

Crosby smiles. “While staff members do have to accept certain parameters of this state of limbo in order to work here, time schedules don’t affect us the same way they do residents. Besides, people still die on Saturdays.”

Like me, for example. “No rest for the wicked, huh?”

“Something like that. So what are you two doing here?”

“Oh, Bobby and I were just having a talk.” I turn to Bobby. “Why don’t you tell him?”

Bobby places his journal on Crosby’s desk with great care before speaking. “I yield.” He bows his head and flips his hand in an odd little flourish.

“You what?” Crosby looks confused, and his eyes dart between me and Bobby. “What’s going on?” he mouths while Bobby is still gazing at the floor.

My smile gives away nothing. “Wouldn’t you like to know?” I mouth back.

Bobby turns his attention back to Crosby. “Dez makes an extraordinarily compelling argument, and I am left with no choice but to comply with her recommendation.”

That’s right; score one for the MHS debate team.

“Her what? What are we talking about?” Crosby is baffled, and I find joy in having the upper hand for once.

“I am but putty in the Atman staff’s capable hands. Henceforth, you shall receive no resistance on my part.”

“Wow, uh, why don’t you take a seat, Bobby?” Crosby says. “We’ll be right back.”

Happy to comply, Bobby plops down in one of the chairs facing Crosby’s desk. “Take your time.” He opens his journal and begins to write what are no doubt the first notes on his new experiment.

Crosby grabs my elbow and hurries me out into the hallway. “What is going on?” he demands, more amazed than irritated. “What’s he talking about?”

“Exactly what he said. He’s going to cooperate in full, work his way through the levels, and do what he needs to do to get his ticket.”

“You’re kidding.”

“I’m not. We even have a little wager on which one of us will get out of here first.”

“What did you do? I mean, how … ”

Crosby listens quietly as I explain.

“This is unbelievable,” he says, stunned. “Do you have any idea how long he’s been here?”

“Eighteen years.”

“He told you that?”

“No, I saw a documentary about him at school a few months ago. I remember because he died the year I was born.”

Crosby raises his eyebrows. “That’s quite the coincidence. And, damn, you’re young.”

“What? You know how old I am.”

“True, but when you’ve been here as long as I have, you lose track of the years.”

“How old are you, anyway?”

Crosby plants his hands on his hips. “Wouldn’t you like to know. Stop by and see me later.”