The New Day

As the planetarium chamber slowly darkened, lecturer Stanley Gardner glanced resignedly around the room. Fifty eager fight-grade chins were already upturned in restless anticipation of the show to begin. It would be Stanley's fourth and final show of the day to be exact, and it had been an unusually busy Saturday at the Science Museum. 'Oh well, better get to it', he thought grimly. 'Maybe one of THESE is the next Newton, you never really know.

With that, Stanley plunged the chamber into complete darkness, resulting in a gasp from the neophyte crowd. 'I see a star!', yelled one junior Kepler, as one by one the children began to note the faintly gleaming points of light in the dark vault overhead. 'Somebody pushed me!', squealed a high pitched voice over to the left - whether it was female or male Stanley didn't know or care. To silence the usual brouhaha that almost always erupted at this point, in the most authoritiative voice he could muster after the long day he began his lecture. And things went well through most of the show. He was quite aware that only a handful of kids were making any real effort to follow the various stars and other sky phenomena he was patiently explaining. But if the rest gained even an iota of curiosity about the universe, Stanley figured he'd done his job. And there was always that elusive 'fun' factor, which might lead a young person to come back if nothing else. Such was the life of the planetarium professional who dealt with student audiences on a regular basis.

Stanley was not quite through this particular lecture however when things began to go wrong. After briefly mentioning the annual Perseid meteor shower, he had turned to the southern Milky Way, where he always wrapped things up with the galactic grandeur. Suddenly a 'whoop' went up from somewhere behind his back. 'Mr Gardner - I saw one!' yelled a boy's voice from the back row. 'There's another BIG one!', it cried out again. Stanley slowly turned around in the darkness. 'Yes?' There's another big WHAT young man?', he asked impatiently - this wasn't supposed to happen, and his dinner was being delayed. 'A PERSEID METEOR sir. I saw it!', came the shrill reply. 'Now that will be enough young ..', Stanley began in a stern voice, but he cut off when he caught something out of the corner of his own eye. Was it a flash of light? Before he could react, a loud 'oooh' suddenly erupted on the other side of the room. This time Stanley whirled in time to see it too. A long graceful meteor could be seen arching down through the Great Square of Pegasus, leaving a softly glowing trail.

The increasingly roudy young crowd began applauding and gasping as suddenly, meteor after meteor began streaming across the planetarium sky. Mr. Gardner stood stunned, his lighted arrow pointer dangling where he had obliviously dropped it. Stunned, because unlike the wildly entertained children, Stanley knew that the Science Museum owned no meteor projector. Indeed, no projector existed that could reproduce the raining meteor spectacle unfolding above their wondering, upturned faces. As Stanley stood transfixed , he slowly became aware that the excited kids had now begun whispering about something else.

Then he saw it too, the streaming meteors had begun fading into a subtly growing light in the dome's eastern sky. By this time his mind had begun reeling, and a dizziness was overtaking him. The kids giggled as a cool, fragrant breeze began blowing into their faces. A chorus of crickets chirping could now be heard, giving way to the faint but unmistakable sound of a distant cock crowing. All at once a blinding ray of light pierced the eastern horizon, brighter than a thousand simulated planetarium suns. A few fluffy white clouds appeared, floating lazily into the rapidly bluing sky.

And as the children happily burbled on, Mr Stanley Gardner, planetarium professional, settled down at last into a comfortable empty chair and waited breathlessly to see what the New Day would bring.