“This is terrible!” Henry’s sister, Emma, had wandered into his room looking for him. Now she was sight reading his comp book.

“It’s not meant to be music,” Henry got defensive.

“Got that right!” Emma laughed. She was a musical prodigy.

“It’s a communication…”

“Oh! like…” and Emma hummed the theme from Close Encounters of the Third Kind, complete with Truffaut’s hand gestures. She was clearly mocking him now.

“What did you want?” Henry snatched his book and shoved it into his backpack.

“Dad’s waiting.”

The ride to the airport was spent in silence. Winter break was over and Henry would soon have to shift his focus back to schoolwork. The Pulse would have to wait.

On the plane, Henry reflected on his disappointment in not being able to unlock the secret of the Pulse in the past month, despite completely mapping it out.

Mapping… it… out…

The plane was over the Mississippi when it suddenly came to Henry. His assumptions about the Pulse were completely incorrect…