Chapters (32)
- Dedication
- Chapter 1
- Chapter 2
- Chapter 3
- Chapter 4
- Chapter 5
- Chapter 6
- Chapter 7
- Chapter 8
- Chapter 9
- Chapter 10
- Chapter 11
- Chapter 12
- Chapter 13
- Chapter 14
- Chapter 15
- Chapter 16
- Chapter 17
- Chapter 18
- Chapter 19
- Chapter 20
- Chapter 21
- Chapter 22
- Chapter 23
- Chapter 24
- Chapter 25
- Chapter 26
- Chapter 27
- AUTHOR’S NOTE
- ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
- ABOUT THE AUTHOR
- What’s next onyour reading list?
“There’s another bad part. I’m really sorry, but I lost the stone you gave me, the one from Nottingham. I put it on the drill bit of the drilling rig, and when the bit came up it was gone. I think it drew up the water, because we hit the biggest gusher my uncle Lincoln ever saw, and now the town has all the water it needs. I dowsed for it myself.”
“I wouldn’t call that lost, Henry. You used the stone for a good cause. In fact, I would call it a very successful scientific experiment. And it doesn’t surprise me that you have the gift of divining.”
I remember the main reason I called the curator.
“I decided I want you to take pieces of the rock to study at your museum. Maybe you can find out how it brings the water. So you could help places that have no water and make sick people better. And you could do that experiment you told me about, where you figure out how old a meteorite is.”
“That’s a very generous offer. We’ve had good success lately cutting meteorites with lasers. I don’t expect we would need more than a small fraction of your stone, and we would leave the rest of it where it fell. First, though, I would like to invite you and your family to come to New York City and meet the team of scientists here. You could see the laboratory where we would take the pieces of your stone and see the equipment we use to study and test them. You would also get a private tour of our meteorite collection, including several rare specimens from the moon and Mars.”
“Can James come, too?”
“Absolutely.”
“We could see the Ahnighito.”
“Certainly. I will be very interested in your impressions of the Ahnighito. Speaking of which, when I reference your meteorite to my team, what shall I call it? Have you come up with a name?”
The answer comes out of my mouth as if I knew it all along.
“Hat. Birdie named it the first time she saw it. You can tell your team it’s called Hat.”
“Hat,” Miles Morgan repeats. “That’s quite appropriate. I will share that moniker with my team. Also, please tell your parents to expect a letter with all the relevant information about a possible visit. For instance, we have a residence reserved for visiting scientists where you and your family can stay, and a museum fund to cover travel expenses.”
“Thank you, Dr. Morgan, I will look for your letter in the mailbox.”
Just as I hang up the phone, there’s a sudden rainstorm. I go back out on the porch. The rain smells like the big rock mixed with the sweet smell of boiling sap.