Underneath the words, there’s a life-sized painting of a sandhill crane. The crane is standing in the water, but its wings are stretched out like it’s getting ready to fly. Braggy must have mixed colors to make the gray of the crane, because his hands are spotted black and white.

“How did you do that, Braggy? It looks just like the cranes. I didn’t know you could draw.”

“NEITHER DID I!” Braggy chuckles. “Not till I tried it.”

“Where did you get the door, and how did you get it here? It looks really heavy.”

“I took it right off my old toolshed and loaded it into the bucket of the tractor.”

“Do the red hat,” Birdie tells him.

“Okay, Boss,” Braggy says, “I’ll be right back,” and he runs up the hill to the shed next to his house. He comes back with an old can of red barn paint, stirs his brush in it, and then lifts Birdie up so she can put the red on the top of the crane’s head.

We all stand back and admire it. Braggy has red paint in his hair and splotches of gray paint on his boots.

“It’s a very big sign, Braggy,” I say.

“Not just that, Henry. Notice anything else?”

“The words are big, too?”

“Yes, but see the baling twine screwed into the bottom? I ran it all the way up to my house and connected it to a big cowbell. If anyone tries to move the sign, the bell will ring, and I’ll know.”

“Wow! That’s a neat idea.”

“The game warden hopes the cranes stay and nest here. I guess there’s not many places in Maine you see sandhill cranes. Their babies are called colts. Just like horses!”

“I didn’t know that. Maybe it’s because they have long legs,” I say.

“The game warden was very impressed with my sign. I told him his sign was too small and I’d make one myself. When James wakes up, you tell him I’ve got something BIG to show him.”

Braggy says “when” and not “if.” That makes two new things I learn about Braggy—he’s an artist and an optimist.

“James will really like your painting. Are you going to sign your name on it, Braggy? I think that’s what artists do.”

“Good idea, Henry,” Braggy says. “I don’t want anyone else taking credit for it.”

With the brush covered in red paint, he signs his name on the bottom.

Bragdon Bower

When the crane colts are born, they’ll see the meteorite, the fast-running stream, the flooded fields, and Braggy’s big door painting.

I don’t have my notebook with me, but when Birdie and I get to the meteorite, I think of the questions I would write in it.

What makes you so hard?

Does your inside look the same as your outside?

How much do you weigh?