The Miles Between

I turn fully around in my seat to look at Aidan. “Listen, Aidan. For me she did exist. She was exactly the kind of aunt I needed—one who could never be taken away from me. She was someone I wasn’t afraid to love.”

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.”

38

WE 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?