He loved her deeply, so he wanted to show her what he had found. Because he didn't make it up, he had indeed found this thing, had uncovered it like a fossil, slowly, carefully, piece by piece, bone by bone. Indeed, he did not know whether he had revealed the whole thing. But he was ready to show someone, and because he loved her he had decided that she would be the first to witness his discovery. 
        “So, are we going to the park tonight?” she asked. “Oh, thank you! It seems so important, but I keep forgetting.” They were in his father's silver hybrid, and had just left his house. She had to be home at ten tonight, which was okay with him because that meant the moon would be up by the time he started driving her home. The drive to her house was fairly short, not quite a full mile, but tonight they were making a stop. There was a small city park about halfway between them, about a block wide and two blocks long. Just a big grass field surrounded by trees, a basketball court, some picnic benches, restrooms, swing set, and your basic climbing structures. In itself, it wasn't all that much. But you could get a beautiful view of the rising moon if you stood in the right place, which was why it was important for him tonight.
        They made their way to the park, talking and laughing and being in love the whole way. They got there, and he parked in the street, just a few steps from the grass and trees, just a few steps from where he would show her. The grass formed a small hill as soon as you left the sidewalk, with trees at the crest, and then dipped down into the bowl of the grass field. He looked around, looked at the moon, looked for the perfect spot to do it. He had done this before, though at a different field under a different stand of trees, and he felt like he ought to be very particular about how he did this. 
        There was a problem, though. The reason he always did it in a dark field under a stand of trees was that he felt self-conscious about what he did, because he knew it might frighten some people, and if it didn't scare them then they still might not understand. The problem was, there were people here. It was almost ten o'clock at night and there were two groups of people, one a the picnic benches and one walking down a path that led to the sidewalk. Worse yet, the field wasn't dark. There were lights over the sidewalk, and there were more lights over by the basketball court. Anyone who looked at them would at least see an outline of someone there, and he preferred to be as hidden as possible. If he was going to scare people, he wanted to really scare them. He didn't want to let them write it off as some crazy kid, and he felt that if they could connect the voice with a body it would be too easy for them to do that. He didn't want people to run away when they heard him, but he wanted them to stop what they were doing to listen. Because what he was saying was important. 
        He could say it with her there, though. Because he trusted her to listen and take it seriously. 
        “Aw, crap. I can't do it with people around. They can see me, and that'll make me feel weird about it.” “Umm, maybe if you were under the trees here?” “That might work. Hm. Let's wait until these people are gone, though.” They stood and waited for the group on the path, who looked like they were about to leave. It took so long it felt like the departing party were crawling on their stomachs. 
        After they had turned the corner and walked out of sight there was only the other group by the tables, and they looked like they had a fire going in one of those disgusting barbecue pits they always have in parks like this. They seemed far away, and if he stood beneath the trees it would be harder for them to see him. “I think I can do it now.” 
        He found a good shadowy place, but one where he could see the moon without any branches in the way. Because to do this, he needed a direct link to the moon. He had to be able to clearly hear what the moon told him so that he could translate it for everyone else to hear. He found his place, and stood there, staring at the moon. Waiting. 
        It's like one of those devices that are supposed to help us communicate with the dead. It draws you along the line of performing the action versus having the action performed through you. The way some people write, some people play music, some people play sports, some people fight and kill. This is what I do instead of those things. I laugh. 
        He felt the cars behind him, driving past. They weren't a distraction as he thought they might have been. On the contrary, he wished a whole succession of them would go past at once, since their noise seemed to push him towards it. He kept staring at the moon, but blinking. It would take some time, and he couldn't afford to let discomfort distract him. Then one more car drove by, and it came out of him.
        He laughed. It wasn't polite. It wasn't quiet. He laughed. It wasn't happy. It wasn't good-natured. He laughed. It wasn't silly, it wasn't fun. He laughed. It wasn't cruel. It wasn't mean. He laughed.
        One hears wolf howls all the time, even if one does not live with them. Thanks to television, we can hear all sorts of things. And if one goes to the right places, one can hear humans trying to imitate that noise, often out of silliness. But anyone who has heard one will tell you that a wolf's howl is not silly. The reason we have to be silly to make that noise is that it isn't a human noise. Laughter is a very human noise. What he let loose was humankind's response to a wolf's howl. He laughed.
        What's so funny? Everything, man. Everything.
        When he was done, he stood for a moment and realized she was watching him. He could feel her looking at him, and that look understood what he had just finished saying. That was good. If she could understand what his laugh had meant, then he knew he loved exactly the right woman. She came to him and he pulled her against him and found her mouth. The passion felt new, like freshly mined ore. Raw, uncut, unpolished. The kind of stuff that reminds people why they're married, only they weren't yet.
        When the flames died down a bit, he led her back to the car.
        She said, “Wanted to join in, but I didn't know how.”
        “I kind of hoped and thought you would. I wouldn't worry about knowing how, dear. I think you could figure it out. Maybe next time you can join me. I think it would sound even better with two.”