They were all printed around a message in the center of the board. The words, written in spiky and slanted letters, read:
The first time you share tea, you are a stranger.
The second time you share tea, you are an honored guest.
The third time you share tea, you become family.
The entire place felt like a fever dream. It couldn’t be real. It was too … something, something that Wallace couldn’t quite put his finger on. He stopped in front of the display case, staring at the message on the chalkboard, unable to look away.
Unable, that was, until a dog ran out of a wall.
He shrieked as he stumbled backward, not believing his eyes. The dog, a large black mutt with a white pattern on its chest that almost looked like a star, rushed toward him, barking its fool head off. Its tail swishing furiously, it circled Mei, back end wiggling as it rubbed up against her.
“Who’s a good boy?” Mei cooed in a tone of voice that Wallace despised. “Who’s the best boy in the entire world? Is it you? I think it’s you.”
The dog, apparently in agreement that it was the best boy in the entire world, barked cheerfully. Its ears were large and pointed, though the left one flopped over. It collapsed in front of Mei, rolling over onto its back, legs kicking as Mei sank to her knees—seeming to disregard the fact that she was wearing a suit, much to Wallace’s consternation—rubbing her hands along its stomach. Its tongue lolled out of its mouth as it looked at Wallace. It rolled back over and climbed to its feet, shaking itself from side to side.
And then it jumped on Wallace.
He barely got his hands up in time before it crashed into him, knocking him off his feet. He landed on his back, trying to shield his face from the frantic, wet tongue licking all the exposed skin it could find.
“Help me!” he shouted. “It’s trying to kill me!”
“Yeah,” Mei said. “That’s not quite what he’s doing. Apollo doesn’t kill. He loves.” She frowned. “Quite a bit, apparently. Apollo, no! We don’t hump people.”
And then Wallace heard a dry, rusty chuckle followed by a deep, crackly voice. “Don’t usually see him so excited. Wonder why that is?”
Before Wallace could focus on that, the dog jumped off him and took off toward the closed double doors behind the counter. But rather than pushing the doors open, it went through them, the doors unmoving. Wallace sat up in time to see the tip of its tail disappear. The cable from his chest wrapped around the counter, and he couldn’t see where it led to.
“What the hell was that?” he demanded, hearing the dog bark somewhere in the house.
“That’s Apollo,” Mei said.
“But—it—he walked through walls.”
Mei shrugged. “Well, sure. He’s dead like you.”
“What?”
“Quick one you’ve got there,” that crackly voice said, and Wallace turned his head toward the fireplace. He yelped at the sight of an old man peering around the side of the high-backed chair. He looked ancient, his dark brown skin heavily wrinkled. He grinned, his strong teeth catching the firelight. His eyebrows were large and bushy, his white Afro sitting on his head like a wispy cloud. He smacked his lips as he chuckled again. “Good on you, Mei. Knew you could do it.”
Mei blushed, shuffling her feet. “Thanks. Had a little trouble there at the beginning, but I got it all sorted out.” Wallace barely heard her as he continued to mention sexually aggressive ghost dogs and old men appearing out of nowhere. “I think.”
The man pushed himself up from the chair. He was short and slightly hunched. If he cleared five feet, Wallace would be surprised. He wore flannel pajamas and an old pair of slippers. A cane leaned against the side of the chair. The old man grabbed it and shuffled forward. He stopped next to Mei, squinting down at Wallace on the floor. He tapped the end of the cane against Wallace’s ankle. “Ah,” he said. “I see.”
Wallace didn’t want to know what he saw. He should have never followed Mei into the tea shop.
The man said, “Kinda squirrely, ain’t ya?” He tapped his cane against Wallace again.
Wallace batted it away. “Would you stop that?!”
The man didn’t stop that. In fact, he did it once more. “Trying to make a point.”
“What are you—” And then Wallace knew. This had to be Hugo, the man Mei brought him to see. The man who wasn’t God, but something she’d called a ferryman. Wallace didn’t know what he was expecting; perhaps a man in white robes and a long flowing beard, surrounded by blazing light, a wooden staff instead of a cane. This man looked at least a thousand years old. He had a presence about him, something Wallace couldn’t quite place. It was … calming? Or so close to it that it didn’t matter. Maybe this was part of the process, what Mei had called the transition. Wallace wasn’t sure why he needed to be beaten with a cane, but if Hugo deemed it necessary, then who was Wallace to say otherwise?.
The man pulled the cane back. “Do you understand now?”
No, he really didn’t. “I think so.”
Hugo nodded. “Good. Up, up. Shouldn’t stay on the floor. Gets drafty. Don’t want to catch your death.” He cackled as if it were the funniest thing in the world.
Wallace laughed too, though it was incredibly forced. “Ha-ha, yeah. That’s … hysterical. I get it. Jokes. You tell jokes.”
Hugo’s eyes twinkled with undisguised mirth. “It helps to laugh, even when you don’t feel like laughing. You can’t be sad when you’re laughing. Mostly.”
Wallace slowly rose to his feet, eyeing the two in front of him warily. He brushed himself off, aware of how ridiculous he looked. He pulled himself to his full height, squaring his shoulders. In life, he’d been an intimidating man. Just because he was dead didn’t mean he was going to get jerked around.
He said, “My name is Wallace—”
The man said, “Tall fella, ain’t ya?”
Wallace blinked. “Uh, I … guess?”
The man nodded. “In case you didn’t know. How’s the weather up there?”
Wallace stared down at him. “What?”
Mei covered her mouth with her hand, but not before Wallace could see the smile growing.
The man (Hugo? God?) shuffled forward, knocking his cane against Wallace’s leg again as he circled around him. “Uh-huh. Okay. I see. So. Right. We can work with this, I think.” He reached up and pinched Wallace’s side. Wallace yelped, knocking his hand away. Hugo shook his head as he completed his circle, once again standing next to Mei, resting on his cane. “Hell of a first case to get assigned, Mei.”
“Right? But I think I’m getting through to him.” She glanced at Wallace with a frown. “Maybe.”
“You didn’t do anything,” Wallace snapped.
Hugo nodded. “This one’s gonna give us trouble. Wait and see.” He grinned, the lines around his eyes cavernous. “I like the ones who cause trouble.”
Wallace bristled. “My name is Wallace Price. I’m an attorney from—”
Hugo ignored him, looking at Mei and smiling. “How was your trip, dear? Got a little lost, did you?”