“There’s only one present left, Amos,” he continued. “*The* present.”
“I see.” He didn’t look away from Edward’s eyes. He spotted it in his peripheral vision, which was good enough. Red and green, he viewed. Rectangular. Life itself. Just under the front seat board. Right where he would sit when he got back in. Right between his legs it would be.
“It’s time to open the box, Amos. Everyone else has taken what they needed, which is everything. Leaving you nothing. Open the box.”
Sandman now knew that the lone box in the boat was empty. The Void, then. Could be another empty box inside the first but that would be it.
“You’ve had your fun,” Edward added. No mention of Shelley here because Amos T. Sandman didn’t know Shelley G. Struthers, wouldn’t know her from Eve beside Adam.
“It’s time for me to leave, Eddie.”
“It sure is,” Edward shot back.
“Well… step aside please.”
“I will. On one condition.”
Deep breath. “Okayy…”
“That you take that empty box over there back to your empty shell of a sim and deposit it where you can’t get to it. Also: put a big red button on it, like you’d find on New Mexican police intercoms. Make it look important even if it isn’t. Can you do this for me? Amos?”
Sandman wanted to tell Eddie to stop calling him that but bit his tongue. He had to see this through as smoothly as possible. Else: sunken boat, he knew, he gathered. No more presents at all. Time erased, even, along with attached-at-the-hip Space. End of existence. Just that important.
(to be continued)