Outside, the wind was howling. Just blowing everywhere. It was blowing the flaps of the great awning this way and that. It was blowing the horses and carriages lined up alongside the park, making the horses whinny and jump. It almost blew over Lu, who lost her balance in her platform booties, but Nathaniel used his newfound strength to stop her from falling into the street.
They all piled back into the aging Jeep Wagoneer. Cleo was behind the wheel, Tiny next to her this time. Will and Lu shared the backseat, Nathaniel sandwiched between them. They kept looking at each other over his head. He was not pleased.
“I’m so curious,” he said to Cleo, to distract himself. “How do you get this car to run on vegetable oil? It’s a great alternative fuel source.”
“Well,” Cleo said, turning the key in the ignition. The engine roared, then sputtered, then squeaked out. She tried again, but it didn’t even squeak this time. Just wheezed. “That may be true, but it’s not the most reliable.”
“Well, what do we do now?” Lu crossed her arms.
“I have an idea,” Nathaniel said. (Thanks, superbrain.) “They were lining up the horse-drawn carriages on the side of the building, probably to keep them safe or to lead them back home for the night. We can take one! We’re not that far from the museum; the carriage could get us there pretty fast.”
“Nathaniel,” Tiny said. “Do you know how to drive a horse-drawn carriage?”
“No,” he answered. “But how hard could it be?” He could use his intuitive new brain to figure it out. Secretly, though, Nathaniel was worried. So far tonight, he’d been all show—pushing people out of the way of cars and stopping falling trees. But he hadn’t done anything to fix their problems. He didn’t even know where to begin. He was still relying on his brother for the things that mattered.
They approached the line of carriages on the other side of the street, and stopped in front of the first one. The horse was one of those massive Clydesdales, with a glistening chestnut coat and white legs that flared out in furry bell-bottoms. A plaque on the side of the carriage said, WILD BLUE YONDER.
“I bet that’s her name,” Nathaniel said, reaching out to pet the horse’s soft white muzzle. The horse bucked and kicked her hooves up. She flicked her thick white tail and stomped her hind legs. Nathaniel suspected that animals were particularly susceptible to electric currents. The horse had probably felt a shock when he’d touched her.
“Whoa,” Nathaniel said, knowing, somehow, not to make eye contact. He held out his hand for her to smell and then stroked her muzzle gently. “Good girl. You’re okay. We’re your friends. We just want to take you for a quick ride. Is that okay?”
The horse looked skeptical. Nathaniel could tell; horses were very intelligent.
They climbed aboard.
“Come on, Wild Blue Yonder!” Nathaniel said, somehow knowing exactly how to gently guide the horse across Fifty-Ninth Street to the West Side.
They trotted along briskly. Nathaniel, as he’d predicted, was easily able to figure out how to steer the horse, who soon seemed to grow a liking to him. Nathaniel even thought he could see her smiling.
“You guys,” he called back. “I think she likes me!”
“Cool!” Lu called from the carriage, where she, Will, Tiny, and Cleo were snuggled under a furry throw blanket. “The previous passengers left champagne back here!” Nathaniel couldn’t turn around, but he could hear the sound of popping and fizzing behind him. He couldn’t ask for a sip; he was the designated horse driver, after all.
Still, he wished he could have one.
Nathaniel always felt a little left out of things, a little bit on the outside. At first, after that summer had ended and high school had begun, he was always turning down plans to hang out with Will or Lu or Tiny so that he could stay in and study. And eventually he wasn’t turning anything down, because the invitations stopped. He always had to remind himself why he was working so hard.
It wasn’t easy. There were moments when he lost his conviction and wondered if he should give the whole thing up. His parents would understand. They knew they couldn’t expect to have two geniuses in the family. His bubbe would understand. She always said Nathaniel needed to have more fun.
The one person who wouldn’t, who couldn’t understand, was Nathaniel. He felt responsible. He’d kind of started the whole thing. He owed it to everyone to finish it. He owed it to Tobias most of all.
Tonight he was finally proving to himself and to everyone else that he could be just as good as his big brother. Even—he dared to hope—better.
Still, was it so bad that he was jealous of everyone drinking champagne in the backseat? Maybe he didn’t want to be super, really. Maybe he just wanted to be himself—whoever that was.
The dark shadow of the park flew by on their right side, the glittering hotels along Central Park South on their left. The stalwart horse pushed bravely against the wind. At Columbus Circle, she veered right, and the carriage sped right up Central Park West. They passed the Dakota, the famous building where John Lennon was shot. They passed the place where Drunk Santa fell out of his sleigh in the original Miracle on 34th Street. Driving up this part of the Upper West Side reminded Nathaniel of the old Woody Allen and Nora Ephron movies his parents used to make him watch with them on weekend nights when everyone else was out having fun. People in those movies were always falling in and out of love and having miscommunications, and New York was like its own character too.
Finally Nathaniel came to a stop in front of the American Museum of Natural History. Banners advertising an exhibit on biodiversity flapped violently in the wind (which was funny, because the banners had butterflies and birds all over them, and it looked like the wings themselves were flapping). On the front steps, the huge bronze statue of Theodore Roosevelt riding a horse stared bravely into the park, as if he was about to ride off into the apocalypse.
Nathaniel wasn’t sure what to do with Wild Blue Yonder, so he locked the brakes on the carriage wheels and gave her a carrot he found under the front seat. “Be good, girl,” he said, petting her nose. She nipped him playfully.
See? He could be social when he wanted. The horse liked him.
They all ran two at a time up the massive majestic front steps of the museum. Someone had tied white and silver balloons to the handle of the front doors, and they were bopping around in the wind.
“Weather balloons,” Nathaniel said knowingly.
“Actually,” said Tiny, “I bet the balloons are for the wedding.”
A security guard just inside the door stepped outside and stared them down. “We’re here for the Swanson wedding,” Will said, jumping in before Nathaniel could stop him from lying. But Nathaniel was impressed. Will looked and sounded like the epitome of cool. “We were inside earlier; we just stepped out for some air.” The guard looked down at his clipboard.
“Name?”
“Cleo Wasserman,” Juliet stepped in. “I was hired to perform some classic works of the Bard for the Swansons in honor of their special day.” The guard leafed through the pages on the clipboard. He eyed Lu’s Shakespeare T-shirt and black skinny jeans. “And them? There’s a dress code.”
“Hello,” Lu said. “It’s storming out here. Can you just let us—”
“They’re my stage crew,” Cleo said quickly. “My acting partner is already inside.” She smiled coyly. “He’s the Romeo to my Juliet.”
“Go on,” the guard said, smiling.
Nathaniel smiled back. Maybe the facts didn’t matter so much. Maybe he was too focused on the answers, and not enough on the questions. They were awake in the city in the middle of the night, and they were alive. And though they hadn’t made it to their real destination yet, the journey itself was proving almost worth it.
For the first time in a long time, he was out in the world, and he was living.