It was a miracle, all the papers and doctors said. Religious people claimed it was God. Scientific people claimed it was medicines and chemicals that had regenerated Kyle's spinal cord. Everyone else agreed that it was something impractical and, possibly, some sort of hoax. Only Jack and his brother knew what it had been, and they never spoke of it, because neither knew how to put any of it to words. Whatever had happened, Kyle Kemper had awoken on that spring morning able to walk. Not as strong as he'd been before the accident, but able to walk. And with his love and light and life restored, if not strengthened. That was all that mattered.

The sinkhole was filled a week after Kyle's recovery, at his parents' adamant request. The surrounding land was tested for more imbalance but found solid. And that was that.

As the spring progressed and became more beautiful with soft rains and colored flowers blooming in random patches of earth, Kyle returned to Webster Day School and Jack to Glorion Middle, where Grace Maloney chatted his ears off and continued to intrigue him with her offhand style and conversation. For several days after Kyle's unexpected and inexplicable recovery, both boys were somewhat like celebrities. The questions and comments came from all sides, but each kept somewhat to himself as far as discussing the event. They knew that no one would understand what had actually happened. Kyle himself wasn't as sure of what had gone on as Jack was, but he enjoyed the attention, as he'd always used to enjoy it.

It was a couple of weeks after the miracle (as Mr. and Mrs. Kemper, for lack of better understanding, had come to term their son's recovery) that Miss Collins was invited to dinner. While Kyle was somewhat at a loss as to why his mother had asked his music teacher over, Jack was immensely pleased to see the woman again. The connection between them was clearer, more obvious, now. They were the same, now. Not boy and woman, not student and teacher, but human and human. They understood one another. They possessed insight into a world that few others would ever be able to. Any nervousness that Jack had previously felt in Miss Collins's presence had entirely disappeared; in fact, he felt more comfortable with her than he did with anyone else.

It was after dinner when Jack found himself alone with his brother and past teacher in the front room; his parents were busy with something in the kitchen. And it was then that he said to her, "You were right, all along."

Anne Collins smiled at Jack.

"Right about what?" asked Kyle.

Speaking more to Miss Collins than to his brother, Jack replied, "I was a shadow of myself. I saw the shadow of myself." He chewed on his words before adding, "I followed everything as if it was a dream. I didn't understand . . . well, anything. I didn't get any of it. I just watched it and thought it was all normal. I never questioned it. But I—now that I've had time to think it over—I've realized that I wasn't myself. I was just, well, someone who didn't care to understand. I was too . . . too unready. And when that shadow of me appeared, I chased it. I chased it, and it confused me. All of this . . . it has, in a way, been my fault. Because I didn't understand myself, and I didn't know how to go about trying to. Or even really knowing that that was what I had to do. I wasn't even aware that I didn't know myself until I talked with you, Miss Collins. After that, I had trouble figuring it all out—but now I understand. My shadow wasn't really the shadow of me at all . . . I was the shadow of me. It was the real me. And until I accepted it and followed it and let it lead me, until I wasn't afraid of it anymore,nothing could be made right. Not my parents, not Kyle, not the frustration inside me.

"Now, though, I know. I know that the answers were always inside me and all around me. I didn't really know for certain until I lost my ear . . . but even then I didn't understand what I was supposed to do with what I heard. Until I put things right, with Kyle, I never would've gotten our world back in order."

Miss Collins was still smiling benignly at Jack. She looked down at the coffee cup in her hands, then back up at both boys. "You have each other," she said. "As confusing and misunderstood as the world is, you've got each other. And you aren't meant to drift as far apart as you did."

Jack nodded understandingly, then asked, "What about Grace? Will she ever . . ."

"I don't know," the woman replied. "But if she ever does, you will be there to help her."

"Now that I understand. Somewhat." Jack lowered his eyebrows. "I can't believe all of this happened because I didn't understand my own self."

Miss Collins smiled wryly. "I think that most strange or tragic things happen because people don't know themselves, and it's only the ones who can stand up to the challenge of finding out that ever correct what they've created."

Jack returned her grin in agreement with what she'd said, but Kyle, who'd been listening to their conversation in slight awe and confusion, shook his head. Quietly, he said, "I don't know what you guys are talking about, but as long as it's good, I don't care." Then he smiled widely and turned the talk toward some events going on at school. Miss Collins and Jack exchanged one more knowing smile before letting their minds and thoughts settle down to more practical matters, such as the weather and the state of Kyle's ongoing physical therapy to get him ready for the next soccer season. As Mrs. Kemper came into the room with dessert, the air pricked with warming specks of light, whispers carried on in strange yet apparent joy, and Jack felt a perfection in the simplicity of the rebalanced reality around him.

THE END