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 Hedgeb
rook 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.