The Miles Between (20 page)

My final word,
love
, stops him just as he is about to reply. Dipping into emotions is indeed a sticky business, something that I am not used to, either. The only person I allowed that emotion was Aunt Edie, and now she's outed. I turn around and stare straight ahead into the darkness.

“At least the unmailed letters make more sense now,” Aidan says quietly.

Mira leans forward and pats my shoulder. “I think it's okay to have an Aunt Edie. Ingenious, really. I wish I had thought of it. Except I would have named her Aunt Lucy. I've always liked that name.”

Yes, every wrinkle patted out. I smile. “Thanks, Mira. I think Lucy would have been a fine name too. I may save it for a future use.”

Seth searches through his pockets for the key. “No future use, okay? There's plenty of real people for you to”—he stops his fidgeting and glances at me.

“Yes?” I say.

“Found it,” he answers, pulling the key out of his left pocket.

I hear Mira smack the seat. “I still can't believe this gorgeous car is yours.”

“I can,” Aidan says, lifting Lucky over the seat and placing him between me and Seth. “Today I could believe almost anything. She stole her own car.”

“But technically that's impossible,” Mira corrects. “You can't steal something you own. So she's off the hook. We're all off the hook.”

Seth starts the motor and gets back on the road.

“Off the hook for the car maybe, but not for taking off,” Aidan says. “You know how the headmaster is about making examples of rule breakers.”

As much as I hate to admit it, Aidan is thoroughly and completely right. There will be consequences to pay, severe ones for me, since I am a repeat offender, and certainly stern consequences for the others. But this cloud hanging over us can't seem to shadow the wonder of the day. Not for any of us. Even Aidan. I hear it in his voice. He talks again about peeing next to the president, sharing his ideas, and maybe even having Congress name a bill after him. Mira has nestled in close on Aidan's side of the seat, her head boldly resting on his shoulder, and she tells him she believes anything is possible, maybe even a bill named the Aidan Vacation Act. And maybe I believe it too.

Today defies explanation, but for me, life has never
been explainable. It's been a lopsided, illogical, messy affair, where answers are in short supply, but maybe that's the way it is for everyone. Sometimes the fairness is all bunched up in one place, and all the injustice is bunched up in another, and sometimes it is all bunched up in the most improbable ways, but whatever you get, wherever you are, there are still the moments that pin you to this world when you'd rather float away. Small, in-between moments, where there is magic and purpose and design and they are so perfectly beautiful they ache. Like all the in-between moments of today. Maybe the good guy doesn't always win. And maybe fairness doesn't always land where it should. But today felt good, deliciously and wonderfully good, just like I told Mr. Nestor this morning. And sometimes that's enough.

A three-quarter dollop of moon and a sky that has split open with stars sprinkle silver light on the landscape that we traveled past this morning. Only occasionally is the scenery recognizable. The brilliantly colored trees that stole our attention earlier today must now take a back seat to a sky that touches the earth with its own brilliance. Aidan and Mira have fallen into whispers and giggles with intermittent shrieks from either one pointing out shooting stars. Seth has pulled Lucky closer, or perhaps it was
Lucky who nuzzled in of his own accord. I wish I was as brave as Lucky.

As we pass the sign to Drivby, Mira sighs and says, “Before we get back, tell us another one, Des. One more.”

“Another what?”

“One of those amazing stories that you know. You know, the ones filled with chance.”

“Yeah, let's hear another one,” Aidan agrees.

Seth looks at me and even in the dark I can see his eyebrows rise in surprise. Aidan requesting one of my stories truly marks a once-in-a-lifetime sort of day.

“All right,” I say, not even sure I have another interesting one to share. But then . . . I realize I do. “Once there were four young people, all exceedingly bright—one especially so—and they set off on a road trip. By all accounts, it should have been a disaster. It was that kind of day. A day where things had gone wrong from the start for each of them. But there was something stirring that day, a momentum that took hold of them, something they couldn't control or hope to explain. And the truly amazing thing—the coincidental part of this story—is that not one of them tried. They just let themselves be swept along by something outside of themselves. And one of them . . . one of them . . . found some things along the road that
she had lost—things she didn't even know she was missing. Things that you can't hold or touch, like forgiveness, acceptance, and maybe even justice, and that made it all the more amazing because invisible things are so much harder to find. But her friends helped her and four pairs of eyes are always better than one. Four is the perfect number.

“And there was a dog. I can't forget that part of the story. A beautiful dog named Lucky, but no one knew he was a dog, except for the one who named him. He could see beneath the woolly surface all the way down to the dog's true nature. He was even able to make Lucky forget about what others thought he was. He was just a dog like any other, even if he didn't look like a normal one.

“And then the most truly amazing and unexplainable thing happened—
the day never ended
. It went on and on forever, and none of them could ever forget it because it was always with them. Even when they finally had to say good-bye, the day went on. They called it The Day That Never Ended. I know it's hard to believe, but it's true. Cross my baboon heart.”

Mira sighs. “That's a good one, Des,” she says. “I think that's my favorite story of all.”

 

 

 

W
E ARE STILL A MILE
from Hedgebrook when Seth notes the traffic.

“I've never seen this many cars on this road,” he says. I hear the rise in his voice. It is a question. Mira and Aidan are sitting up leaning over the back of our seats now to get a better view of the stream of cars.

“What do you think's going on?” Mira asks.

No one answers. I am sure Aidan's and Seth's imaginations are running as wild as mine. Is there a manhunt going on for us? A massive search? Did they surmise that I finally snapped and fear what I might have done to my classmates? Is this day going to live up to its history, after all? How fast am I going to be whisked away from Hedgebrook?

As we get closer, Mira points to the helicopters. There are two. At least. And a glow coming from Hedgebrook like it has been turned into a landing strip. Lights like we have never seen. My grip tightens on my knees.

Seth utters an appropriate word for the situation and then apologizes. Aidan repeats it. No apology.

As we turn into the long driveway to Hedgebrook we have to maneuver past cars, vans, and camera crews.

“Channel Eight!” Aidan says.

Seth's head is swiveling. “World News?”

I grab the steering wheel. “Watch the road!”

“I think we've been missed,” Mira says.

Throngs of students fill the lawns. They are all dressed in their Saturday casuals, even though it is not the weekend. This is definitely not a planned Hedgebrook activity. Seth parks the car at the curb outside Gaspar Hall, strictly a no-parking zone, but in the chaos it seems irrelevant. Even Aidan doesn't object.

Seth steps out and reaches back for Lucky. “Come on, fella,” he says, nuzzling Lucky's face before tucking him snugly under his arm. I catch my breath. The idea of Seth having to say good-bye to Lucky is suddenly much worse than my saying good-bye to Hedgebrook. I wonder how long it will take for someone to spot us, for it all to come
crashing down. We get out and make our way over to the crowds. We don't get far before Jillian and Curtis spot us and run over.

“You owe us big time!” Jillian says.

“We've been covering for you all day,” Curtis adds.

“What are you talking about?” Seth asks.

Jillian reaches out and pets Lucky and then kisses his nose like he's a baby. “Darling,” she says. His stubby little tail wags. “We saw you leave in the car, remember? But ever since the meteor hit this morning, Mrs. Wicket has been checking off students—”

“A meteor?” Aidan says. “What the—?”

“Well, they think that's what it was. But they're very rare. Over there—”

We are all walking in the direction Jillian pointed before she can even finish.

“That's what it was!” Mira says.

“What
what
was?” Aidan is obviously disconcerted that Mira is on to something before he is and is hurrying to stay close by her side.

“That sound! This morning! It wasn't a negative giant!”

“Positive giant,” Aidan corrects her. “But it could have been.”

We squeeze through people until we are stopped by a
yellow tape. “Could have been, but not this time, Cowboy,” Mira says. “Nooo, sir!”

We stare at the quad, speechless. The green lawn is littered with dirt and rocks and men in white uniforms carrying scientific instruments and reporters daring to get a closer look. In the center, exactly where the grotesque statue of Argus Hedgebrook once stood, is a gaping crater at least twenty feet across, like Argus was the bull's-eye of a precisely drawn target. The first thought that runs through my mind is justice at last for Argus Hedgebrook, his embarrassing arthritic pose finally laid to rest deep within the earth. I look at the others, their jaws hanging open just like mine. We begin laughing at the same time, like we are all hit at once with the absurd fairness of it all.

The momentum
. It is still with us.

“Even old man Argus got his share of fair today!” Mira says.

“Won't have me to make fun of anymore!” Aidan throws his hand out in a mocking arthritic gesture.

“The crater is quite an improvement,” I add.

Our laughter gradually subsides, except for Seth's. He is still laughing hysterically, tears rolling down his cheeks.

“Seth?” Mira says.

“This morning,” he gurgles.

Aidan puts his hand on Seth's shoulder. “You all right, buddy?”

Seth's head rears back and he howls. “Me. The statue.”

“Oh, my God,” I say.

“What?” Mira's head spins sharply toward me. “Will you please tell us what's going on with him? Is he all right?”

Seth regains enough composure to string more than two words together and blurts out, “That's where I was hiding!” And promptly goes into another blubbering fit of laughter.

“What's he talking about?” Aidan says, grabbing Lucky out of Seth's arms like he's afraid Seth may drop him.

“This morning Seth was hiding out under the statue trying to avoid trash duty.”

“And Destiny came and got me,” Seth says in a gulping breath. The laughter drains away as quickly as it came, and he looks at me, his face definitely several shades whiter than it was just a moment ago. “She saved my life. If she hadn't come and got me—”

“You'd be flatter than a pancake!” Mira gasps.

“Yeah . . . I guess I would.” His gaze is fixed on me, and mine on him. Everything shifts to slow motion. “You saved my life,” he repeats. He takes a step toward me.

“The day's come full circle, then, hasn't it?” I answer. He steps closer. And I think, right then, right there, even in front of all these people, if Seth leaned forward and bent his head down to mine, I would—

“There you are!”

The world is jarred back to its quick pace. Mrs. Wicket is breathless, her hair a disarrayed jumble. She blows out a well-directed puff of air to shoo a stray silver wisp from her eyes. “I've been three steps behind you all day! Seems every time I would arrive somewhere, I would be told I just missed you. I included you in the head count the headmaster wanted since Jillian, Curtis, and Ben had all said they had seen you, but I wanted to see you for myself too.”

“We're here, Mrs. Wicket, safe and sound,” I say.

She smiles, clearly relieved. “Yes, you are.”

Baaaa!

Aidan shoves Lucky back into Seth's arms. “He wants you.”

“What have we here?” Mrs. Wicket asks.

The color springs back to Seth's face. “My lamb, Mrs. Wicket. But he's very well trained. I promise he—”

“A lamb! Seth! How did you know? The headmaster will be delighted!”

“Huh?”

“You know he's been wanting to restore the old livestock pen to its previous use. He's been rumbling about that project for months. As he puts it, he's tired of the pen being used as a ‘den for questionable activities.' He will be so pleased when he sees this adorable lamb. An excellent first addition and a great way to get his project off the ground! He'll be so excited. Smart thinking, Seth. I wouldn't be a bit surprised if he gave you extra credit! Must run now. Don't forget, curfew in ten minutes.” Her eyes roll and she shakes her head. “Today has been unbelievable!” She gives Lucky a quick pat and is off on more business.

Extra credit
. Unbelievable indeed. From start to finish.

She is already several feet away when I run after her. “Mrs. Wicket!” I call. She stops abruptly, and I nearly tumble into her. “I have a quick question.”

“Yes, dear?”

“I was wondering about Mr. Nestor, the visiting calculus teacher who was here—”

“Mr. who?”

“Nestor. He teaches calculus.”

“We have no Mr. Nestor here at Hedgebrook, dear. Visiting or otherwise. Are you sure you have the name right?
Or maybe it was a reporter you spoke to? There's been so much confusion today!”