Page 123 of Possibly Texas

When the banging in the tunnel grew louder and closer, I gasped with happiness, knowing we still had a chance. As Auggie’s head popped out of the tunnel, his eyes immediately found mine and he grinned so widely I thought the corners of his mouth would split.

“Hold on!” He scurried out of the tunnel and leapt to his feet.

Itching with expectation, my fingers turned white as they gripped the lever. Auggie raced across the width of the silo and joined me at the lever. Together, we looked up. The skylight was still wide open. When I felt Auggie’s hand wrap around mine on the lever, I looked down at our fingers touching, then over at him. He gave me a cautious smile and a nod.

“Together?” he asked.

“Together.”

We both hooted and hollered in triumph, and then we jerked downwards on the lever. Darkness so thick it could practically be felt slithering along my skin enveloped us. A mechanical “CLANK!” sounded from somewhere outside the silo.

We had beaten the maze.

A gasp from Auggie’s direction startled me, but when his hand tightened over mine on the lever, I realized he was simply excited. Looking up at the silo opening that looked out of the skylight, I could only stare in awe and wonder at first. With the lights off inside the barn and the lack of light pollution in Possibly, the sky was infinite.

We weren’t just looking at the swollen and heavy moon looming down upon us, but the universe laid out beyond a place only the greatest minds could measure. Swirls of stars twisted through the sky, blankets of pinpoints of lights and clusters of fireflies shone in my eyes as I stared up in wonder. The universe wasn’t some intangible, obscure place that only esoteric science and mathematics could give meaning.

It was right there.

If I reached up, I knew I could touch it. I could scoop up a fistful of stars, slide them into my pocket, and keep them for myself for when the world felt dark. I could grab the moon with both hands and have it lift me into the sky, weightless and carefree, unconcerned with the trivialities of life. It wasn’t the universe out there and Auggie and me inside the silo. We were with it and it was with us. We were all part of an ever-expanding, unimaginably beautiful, intricately intertwined organism that was alive from one end to the other.

We were the universe; the universe was us.

Auggie’s hand squeezed mine again and slowly slid away. I’d been focusing too much on the silvery blue orb in the sky and the fireflies that hung unmoving around it to notice, but my eyes had adjusted to the dark.

How long had we been staring up at the sky and holding the lever together?

The silo wasn’t a cylinder of darkness any longer. The moon had filled it with a calm blue light, just bright enough that I could make out Auggie’s form as he walked to the center of the silo. He was staring up at the sky, a beatific smile on his face. My hand finally slid from the lever and I couldn’t help but smile as I watched Auggie admire the result of all of his hard work.

He was speechless. Even he hadn’t imagined how beautiful the universe would look from the center of his creation. There was something about his smile, the result of seeing his reaction to his work paying off that made my breath catch in my throat.

I didn’t know how to explain it—even to myself—but something deep inside of me, a question I never knew I’d asked of…whatever is out there that could reply…was answered. I felt complete.

I was no longer the desert tortoise staring up at the moon, asking it to be my friend. To give me someone to share myself with. Though, it had heard my request. It had simply taken liberties with the delivery.

So…the moon took away my status as a desert tortoise.

Maybe I’m…a Fennec fox?

“Auggie,” I felt myself breathe out.

He turned to me; his smile unfaltering.

“Yeah?” he asked.

“It’s beautiful.”

“You’re not even looking,” he chuckled.

“Yes. I am.”

Auggie gave me a curious grin and cocked his head to the side. After a few moments, his smile melted away and he averted his gaze.

“No,” he said, though his voice was shaky. “I can’t do that.”

“Why not?”

“Not with you.”