“¿What does it say?” Wiz called down from atop the stepstool.
Liz looked up from the almanac in his hands, the tip o’ his hood flopping down.
“It says to tickle it.”
Wiz rubbed his bearded chin, & then shrugged. “If you say so.”
He reached his thin fingers out to the dim moon & tickled. Suddenly they felt the world—not just the earth, but also the sky—rumble while a deep voice giggled.
The moon’s back opened, revealing a bed o’ wires holding a black box. Wiz extracted it & put in the one he held in his arm.
When he closed the door, they were suddenly blinded by blaring white light.