The playful, welcoming music set Cole at ease. If the music could be trusted, he figured this should be a good place to ask for directions. Narrow roads crisscrossed the town. The people on the streets meandered and conversed. Nobody drove a cart or manned a stand or carried a load or hammered a nail. It didn’t take long for Cole to notice a sizable crowd around one of the larger homes. He went to see what was happening. At the edge of the crowd a balding man with a bulbous nose and a saggy gut came up to Cole. “What’s your interest, tourist?” he accused. “Just curious,” Cole said, keeping his tone light and friendly. “What’s going on?” The man folded his arms. “Fun to come see the real echoes in action?” “Lay off, Stu,” a woman scolded. “He’s a kid.” “All the more reason he belongs back in the real world,” Stu said. “The echolands are just as real,” the woman said. A cheer went up from the group. “What happened?” Cole asked the woman. “A fellow just crossed over,”
