“Ah, of course, the dinosaur exhibit…” I said as we walked in. “It feels like every museum has one of these…”

            Lizzie nudged me in a don’t be so ridiculous way. “I always love looking at these giant model dinos.”

            “And yet humanity’s never seen one. That’s the fascinating part.”

            We wandered around the crowd, looking around at the many dinosaur skulls, skeletons, and footprints that had been discovered throughout the years. There was also a section on dinosaur poop that Lizzie found absolutely hilarious for some reason. We ended our tour of the dinosaurs by just staring at a triceratops model named “Cliff,” apparently one of only four preserved triceratopses displayed in the world.

            “You ever think about how we hear dinosaur noises all the time in media, yet we have no proof of what they actually sound like?” Lizzie wondered aloud.

            “You hear dinosaur sounds all the time in the media?”

            “I mean… like Jurassic Park…”

            I shrugged. “Never seen it. Besides, I don’t think accuracy was top of mind there.”

            Next door to the dinosaurs was an engineering section on some wildly entertaining inventions. We spend several minutes fooling around with a particle mirror, making fools of ourselves with the special effects that displayed in front of us, not reading into how it worked at all. Lizzie insisted we take some pictures with some flashy lights all around us in a digital display. Her insistence led me to give her a kiss on the cheek in front of a crowd of kids that were watching. She blushed and hid a smile behind an eyeroll.

            There was another engineering section that had far more interactive things to try out. It was here that I started to really get an appreciation for the design of the museum. Each station was designed to be kid-friendly, and using them was entertaining for any age. However, I realized just how well they introduced the concept they were trying to teach in the station. There was a simple sorting station where you told a computer how to collect balls with properties. Kids could see buttons and just press them and see what happened, and it would be entertainment enough. But for me and Lizzie, we got a blast out of actually trying to solve puzzles and connect what we learned to how engineers did problem solving. My soon-to-be teacher brain was already buzzing. The whole exhibit was bursting with charm.

            The next floor up took me back to my childhood, looking alongside my brother and sister at a book of optical illusions. We tried looking at a few, but Lizzie claimed her eyesight was bad enough as it is, and she was getting a little sick. It ended up being Lizzie sitting on a bench for a rest while watching me twist my head around wondering how the lines in the painting were completely straight. She ultimately had to drag me out of the hall, but we ironically landed on a place called “The Light House,” an exhibit all about colors, lights, shadows, and reflections. Thankfully the room was far more pleasant on the eyes. We tried out a puzzle trying to match our shadow to the height of a display, and then found a room where you could freeze an image of your shadow onto the wall. Lizzie giggled when we exited, leaving behind a nice middle finger to the next person who would unfortunately walk into the room after us.

            Of course, there were the animal exhibits, the nearest one being the insect and garden walk. There were two kinds of people in this world: People that found insects gross, creepy, and annoying, and those that found them cute, silly, and wonderful. Lizzie and I were on opposite sides of the spectrum. Lizzie, ever the optimist, had to drag me through the walk while I fought the urge not to barf. Nature and I didn’t really have the best relationship, considering my seasonal allergies and my fear of bees. Still, I held Lizzie’s hand tighter than I should and followed her through so that she could examine every stick-bug she could see. Forcing myself to stay calm, I compared this to the potential of being in a giant lightning machine cage where I’d be a couple feet away from being shocked alive. If I could get through this exhibit, maybe I could muster the courage to do the lightning show.

            It was the first time I had thought of the offer to participate in the show since leaving the Theater of Electricity. Surprisingly enough, the museum had been a strong distraction, considering how terrifying the electricity show still felt. It said a lot about how much fun I was having fun exploring the exhibits. Besides the insect exhibit, I had been feeling very relaxed, and thinking back to the machine, I was feeling a lot less scared about the possibility of going in. Still, I decided to hold my judgement until I saw the show for myself first.

            After a couple trips to the other biology and animal focused exhibits, our next step was a show at the 4-D Theater. No matter how much I asked, Lizzie wouldn’t tell me what 4-D meant, and I was very concerned by the ways she kept snickering whenever I asked. When the time came, we lined up at the entrance. When we were permitted, we were handed 3-D glasses. Somehow when my mind saw 4-D, I completely forgot about the fact that the 3-D was even a part of it.

            “When’s the last time you wore one of these?” I asked, turning the glasses around in my hands to study the strange shading of the lens. We wandered across a row of seats and took two spots next to each other.

            “You know, I never realized how few people actually watch movies in 3-D anymore…,” said Lizzie. “Honestly, I couldn’t tell you the last time I saw a movie in 3-D in theaters.”

            “Me neither.”

            We sat in silence; hands held yet again as we waited on our show on penguins to start. I tried again. “Ok, Lizzie, really. What does 4-D even mean?”

            “I’m not saying nothing,” Lizzie teased. “You’ll find out soon enough.”

            “You’re killing me…” I groaned to a Lizzie giggle.

            Another long bout of silence before Lizzie turned to me, expression far more serious. “Have you thought at all about what you’re gonna do about the volunteer thing?”

            I shrugged. “A little. Frank promised it was safe, but I still haven’t even seen it in action before. I guess I’m still considering it, but I’m a lot less freaked out than I was before.”

            Lizzie smiled, bit her lip, and looked down at the armrest, which still occupied our interlocked hands. “I bet it’d be really exciting to be in that cage…”

            I blinked at her sudden change of tone, unable to prevent my blush.

            “I can just see you there, standing all badass as lightning strikes all around you, and you just stand there and take it… take it like a man…” Lizzie’s blush wasn’t hidden either.

            I had to bite my own lips in response to hide my smile, and I had to look away. “You’re weird…” was all I could say.

            She did a finger walk with two fingers up my arm, and when I turned, she was staring right at me playfully. “I’m just saying… you’d look mighty hot up there.”

            I couldn’t help but grin like a madman. I knew Lizzie was joking for the most part. She was doing everything she could to lower the tension about being in that cage. And damn it, it was working. “I said I’ll think about it!” I said, hands up in defeat. Thankfully I was saved when the lights of the theater dimmed, and the show finally started.

            I also found out rather quickly what “4-D” meant when the first bits of water sprayed at my face, and Lizzie had to hold her breath to avoid bursting into laughter at my misery.

            ___