“I would like to speak with a Mr. Henry Bower. Is this his home?” It’s a man’s voice that speaks with an accent I’ve never heard before.

“Yes, that’s me. I’m Henry Bower. But this is my nana’s home you called.”

“Ah, quite a few Bowers listed for your town. No one answered at the other residences.”

“My uncles Lincoln and Braggy are outside with the National Guard, and my house is underwater.”

“Well, that illuminates the situation. May I introduce myself? I am Dr. Miles Morgan, curator of the meteorite collection at the American Museum of Natural History in New York City. Central Park West at Seventy-Ninth Street, to be exact.”

“Where the Ahnighito meteorite is? The one the Inuit called the Tent?”

“That is correct. You have visited the museum?”

“No, but I saw pictures in the M encyclopedia, and I read about how the Ahnighito is almost as old as the sun, and that it fell in Greenland. Parts of it look like our rock.”

“Your M encyclopedia is quite informative. And that brings me to the purpose of this call. I was made aware of your find by a colleague of mine, who read about it this morning in an article the New York Times reprinted from your local paper.”

“It’s in our paper?”

“Oh yes, the headline says, and I quote, ‘Homeschooled Maine Rock Boy Finds Possible Meteorite in Back Field.’ Fortunately, they provided the name of that Maine rock boy, one Henry Bower. Did you not see this story?”

“No, my uncle Braggy gets the paper and shares it with us when he’s done,” I explain. “Were you there when Admiral Peary brought the Ahnighito to the museum?”

“I am considered elderly by some, but that occurred long before I was born. However, I have been closely acquainted with it for more than half my mortal life.”

It isn’t just the accent. The words the man uses are different from what I’m used to hearing. They remind me of some of the long words I’ve seen in the old red books Birdie takes out of the library.

“Can I ask you a question? And I don’t mean to sound rude.”

“Certainly. I am not one to be easily offended,” the man answers in his odd way.

“Does everyone in New York City talk like you?”

Dr. Miles Morgan laughs so long and hard that I’m not sure if I said something funny or if I’ve insulted him. Finally, he stops laughing.