30
Zoe and Harper Discover
That night, I opened the new book Ben had given me and read what he had written on the first page again and again.
To My Friend Zoe Reindeer—May your life be an amazing adventure.
Ben Rakotomalala
I thumbed through it for a while, looking at the awesome photos, and I wondered if traveling to other places in the universe would one day be as easy as traveling to other continents is these days. Probably.
The knock on the door came as I knew it would. Earlier, I’d told Harper about the new book, and I figured he’d come to see. “Who is it?” I asked as if I didn’t know.
“Me . . . Harper.”
“You can come in.”
“I thought you were gonna come get me so I could meet him too, Zoe?” Harper complained.
“Sorry. He was only here for a few minutes, anyway.”
“Oh. Can I see?”
I nodded, turned to the page where Ben had signed, and pointed. “Look.”
To My Friend Zoe Reindeer—May your life be an amazing adventure.
Ben Rakotomalala
Suddenly, I had an idea. “Let’s go outside,” I told my brother.
“For what? It’s dark.”
“Exactly.”
We settled by the pond and stared upward.
“I don’t know too much about the constellations of stars, but it’s something I should study,” Harper said in a matter-of-fact way, like it was just one more thing on his list of subjects to investigate further.
The Moon was nowhere—having another night off, I guessed. I wondered why the Earth only has one moon instead of two or more like some planets in the galaxy. If we had more than one, we might never have a moonless night.
I pictured moons of different colors lighting the nighttime.
Zoe was the Maker of Moons. If your planet needed more light at night, you simply hired Zoe and she made as many moons as you wanted up to a limit of nine, because with more than nine moons it might be as bright at night as it is in the daytime and that would be weird. Zoe’s moons came in many colors and sizes. Her online intergalactic planetary business was booming because people hated being outside at night without a moon to light the way.
Harper tapped my shoulder. “Zoe?”
“What?”
“You’re doing that daydreaming thing, right?”
“Right,” I replied.
“About?” he asked.
“About how many moons we would need to have for there to always be one shining in the sky no matter where you are on Earth.”
“Hmmm? That’s a really good question. I never thought about that.”
“Me neither until just now.”
“I always thought you were only interested in plants . . . not moons and planets.”
A thought like a small bolt of lightning flashed in my mind. “If you take the e out of planet, it spells plant,” I blurted.
“Wow, Zoe, that’s pretty good. But then, you’re smart like that.”
“I am?”
“Yeah. You are.”
“Oh. Thanks.”
Quiet came after that, the way it does sometimes after serious things are said.
And it was a while before Harper spoke again. “It’d be easier to see up there if we had a telescope.”
“I know. I decided to start saving up for one.”
Harper glanced at the book, then at me, and said, “Sorry, Zoe.”
“For what?”
“For stealing your science idea.”
From the way he said it, I could tell he really meant it.
“You promise you’ll never do it again?” I asked.
Harper nodded.
“Then I forgive you.”
After that, we went inside and Harper said good night to me and I said good night to him.
Later, when my head hit the pillow, I thought about Harper and how it was feeling nice to be okay with him again.
Making peace was VG—very good.