10 Written by Thomas Miller

Bruce hears the steady shuff-shuff of footsteps in the sand and then Dap is crouching next to them. “I found the astronomy club up the beach about a half-mile,” he says.  “They turned the wrong way on the frontage road.  Your darling boy was with them, Feeney.”
    “What was he doing?”
    “Breaking the telescope.”
    “You are not serious.”
    “He tried to climb into the eight-inch reflector like it was a cannon.  He didn’t make it.”
    “I’m so sorry,” says Feeney.
    “Not your fault he got all liquored up,” says Dap.  “I’ve got tools in the car.  We’ll see if we can’t clamp the telescope back to the base.”
    Just then a white-green line streaks across half the sky, splitting in three.  Two of the meteors burn out immediately, but one falls another second or two.
    “God that was one.  That was beautiful,” says Georgeanne.
    “That was like three,” says Dap.
    “Spectacular,” says Georgeanne.
    “Four, five, six,” says Bruce.
    “If we get hit by a meteor I am personally holding you responsible,” says Feeney.
    “You can’t,” says Dap.  “They’re grains of sand.  They hit the atmosphere at like 25,000 miles per hour and burn up in a second.”
    “My best friend in fourth grade got killed by a meteor,” deadpans Feeney.
    “The same one that got killed by lightning?”
    “Different friend.  I had a traumatic youth carried an umbrella all through middle school to ward off meteorites.  It ruined my love life.  Then I had to put a lightning rod on top.  You ever go to your eighth grade promotion dance wearing a lightning rod?”
    “I’ll be your lightning rod, Feeney,” says Dap.
    “In your dreams,” she growls.  Two more meteors flash by overhead. 
    “Seven, eight,” says Bruce.
    “Promotion,” Feeney reflects.  “Didn’t graduate eight grade, got promoted.”
    “I’ll graduate you, Feeney.”
    “Jesus, Dap.  Go climb a tree.”
    “Okay,” says Dap.  “How high?”
    “There aren’t any,” says Feeney.  “I looked.  I always look now.”
    “Walk me to the car at least?” Dap says.  Feeney jumps to her feet and leaves Bruce’s left side exposed.  The cold air seeps in immediately.

Posted on February 9th, 2009 in Fiction