The boathouse was deserted when he arrived. George looked up at the house, debating if he should see if Mr. Miller would answer the door. He decided to see what he could find first.
Wasting no time, he removed his shirt and shoes, and was about to jump into the lake, but he realized with everything going on, he didn’t want to go home with wet shorts, so he glanced around to make sure no one was watching, and went down to his boxers. George slid into the warm water of Fox Lake.
The water in the lake wasn’t the clearest in the world, so the item he was searching for didn’t jump out at him right away. George ran his hands through the muddy bottom of the lake to rake the debris, looking for anything that might be close to the missing piece, but no luck.
Thirty minutes later, he found it partially buried in sand and rock. As soon as he pushed the sand away, a beam of light shot out and he knew it was the metal piece. He remembered the strange moon bracket from the other day, but now it pulsated with energy and the rings had alternating pink and purple lights. He grabbed it and swam quickly to the surface.
George pulled himself out of the lake onto the splintered dock to examine his find. As soon as he removed the piece from the water, the beams of light stopped. It was the same metal piece he remembered seeing when he tied the door shut the day Eddie disappeared into the boathouse. It felt like decades ago now. George had to force himself not to get emotional. He ran his fingers across the planets as he recalled Mr. Miller’s story and was curious if it had anything to do with the metal piece. He wondered if it would still work if the lights stopped flickering. He had no way of knowing, but he had to try.
He spent the next fifteen minutes trying to cram the metal into everywhere he could think it would fit on the door, but it wasn’t working. He knew Eddie couldn’t be wrong, but he didn’t know what to do.
He glanced at his watch and knew he had to get home; otherwise he wouldn’t be able to leave the house again. As he was leaving, Mr. Miller exited the back door of the house.
The two of them met in the middle of the yard and George explained his dream and what he’d found in the lake. Mr. Miller rubbed his chin, frowning. George figured he was losing hope. Maybe Mr. Miller had reached his limit of what he could believe coming from a thirteen-year-old kid. Either way, George put the metal piece in his pocket and turned to leave. For a moment, he debated leaving the metal piece with Mr. Miller so he could try to get it to work, but then decided to keep it himself. George wasn’t sure if Mr. Miller believed his story about the dream. “I’ll see you later, Mr. Miller. I gotta get home.”
“Tomorrow’s the 30th. We’re almost out of time.” The old man looked heartbroken.
“I know.” Without another word, George ran home.