It isn't long at all before the sky erupts in color, bright and vivid, rockets singing into the air before they explode and burst forth long tendrils of shimmering light.

There's 'oohing' and 'ahhing' and plenty of clapping, as the band pauses and the townsfolk watch, and silently Dr. Hawthorn comes up on Doc's right side, face turned heavenward and hands clasped loosely behind his back.

He doesn't say anything. He simply stands, and watches the display.