ChapterEight
Stars
I was back in the Lovingale. Henry was somewhere upstairs with Felix, and Claudia was with me. There wasn’t much furniture in the rooms, but in the small one I was in, there was a corner table, a lantern, and a square framed mirror hanging on the wall. I had to tip-toe a bit to see myself clearly.
I let my hair fall out of the braid and took to brushing it gently. Claudia watched me quietly. Her curls were a mite frizzy, from the heat and air. She didn’t seem to care just then. Instead she looked admirably at me, but I had a feeling she was thinking about something else. Or someone else.
“Claudia?” I looked over my shoulder. “What did you do today?”
She blinked. “Oh. We just…explored. Artie met us again.”
“Really?”
She held up her chin and nodded. “He showed us almost every part of town. But then he had to leave to tend to his horses.” She smiled fully. “He is a nice gentleman, isn’t he?”
I sighed and shook my head, but laughter escaped my lips.
“Look at Claudia, falling all over herself,” Felix jeered from the doorway.
“You mean boy!” Claudia howled in anguish. “Shoo!” she waved her hands at him.
Felix rolled his eyes and left.
“I met a peculiar boy today,” I said, to distract Claudia.
She brightened up. “Really? What’s her name? How old is she? Is she my age? Because, oh, there’s no one to talk to in this lonely town!”
“I said a boy, Claudia.”
Claudia flicked her hair. “Well, fine. But there is still no one to talk to. No one except Artie, that is.” She had the airs of some princess with a broken heart, the ones Mother read about.
“His name is Charlie. Charlie Ferguson. He’s a nice boy. He—”
“Did you say, Ferguson?”
I turned around and faced her. “Yes. I believe he’s Artie’s brother; it’s just that…well, Artie’s angry at me.” My shoulders slowly dropped. “Artie is angry at me. And Henry is, too.”
I felt her eyes on me.
“I just…I…I don’t know what to do, or what to say. I always seem to mess up everything. I’m cruel and mean and just an irritant.”
“Stop with those words, Ingrid,” Claudia forced me. “It isn’t true. You aren’t capable of meanness. And Artie can’t be really mad. We’ve only known him a day or so. And Henry—”
“I fear Henry despises me,” and I looked into the mirror again. It was dark. The lantern was running dim.
“I don’t despise you.”
I turned to the doorway, where Felix had been a moment before. But my brother Henry took his place. He had one hand in his pocket and the other ran through his dark hair. He looked strained and tired. He sighed and rubbed his fingers into his forehead.
Claudia left.
“Ingrid.”
“Yes?” I set the brush down on the table.
“Try to understand.”
“I want to.”
“I don’t despise you, I just—” he blinked a few times, all in a row. Maybe he was blinking back tears, tears he didn’t want me to see.
“You’ve lived without Mother easier than I have. You’ve moved on. But I won’t. You see, I can’t, Annabelle. I just—can’t.”
“That’s why we must be there for each other,” I said softy. I walked over and touched his arm. “I’ll be there for you. And you’ll be there for me.”
Henry pulled away and wiped his eyes roughly. “Don’t tell Felix I cried. I’m the oldest. I’m supposed to be the leader.”
“Crying isn’t a sign of weakness,” I told him. “Look at it this way. Crying…” I searched for the right words. “Crying is a way your eyes speak, when your lips can’t really explain.”
“Explain?” Henry sniffled.
“How broken your heart is,” I looked down. “I’m sorry, for always ruining everything with sentimental sayings.”
Henry surprised me with a smile and another sniffle. “You’d be a good poet.”
“I hope to be.” And then I did something I had not done in a long time. I pulled my brother close and gave him a hug.
He didn’t pull away that time.
It was dark and late as we lay on the floor, and together we looked like a star. Felix and Claudia were asleep, and I think Henry was, too. I was having a hard time falling asleep, and it got even worse when I heard a faint knocking sound. I didn’t know what it was, so I ignored it and rolled away from the noise. But when I sat up and it became clearer, I realized that we couldn’t be alone. That someone was outside. I didn’t want to disturb anyone. And I knew in such a nice little town as this, there was hardly any room for danger. I stood to my feet, stepped over my brothers and sister, and took a glance out the window before I opened the door.
I couldn’t really tell who was there.
I opened the door cautiously. A boy turned around and faced me and I made out Artie’s face.
“Artie?” I whispered. “What are you doing?” The moonlight sliced the space between us.
“Have you ever seen a shooting star?”
The question took me by surprise. The thought occured to me, that really, no. I’d never seen one.
“Never.”
He smirked at me. “Would you like to see one?”
My eyes shone. I knew because I could feel them shining even in the dark.
I dashed back inside, taking care to be quiet, and knelt by Henry’s side at once. I nudged him back and forth until he woke. He stared at me confusedly. “What?” he whisper-shouted.
“Artie wants to show us something. Stars. Shooting stars. Hurry,” I pulled his arm and he scrambled to his feet and we went out the door.
Artie was on the other side of the gate and waved us on.
Me and Henry and Artie and Charlie became friends so fast, looking back.
We followed him down the road, through a brief path in the forest, and out to a field. A wide, wide, field that had trees all around it. I had a feeling nobody knew about this place except for us. We were in a clearing. But I didn’t observe anything else around me because my head was up and my eyes went to the stars. I almost tripped as I kept backing up, again and again. “The stars,” I laughed. “There’s so many.” I stood awe struck and remembered what I had thought when we had first arrived, how there would be so many stars that you could barely see the blackness behind them.
And it was true.
I wished Father could’ve been here right then. Could’ve experienced such a moment that felt so magical to me.
I supposed that Father, who used to be a sailor, had probably seen stars like this. But I hadn’t. And I loved them more than anything else I had seen since coming to America.
Charlie was standing in the distance, jumping on his toes and fiddling with a black spiny machine. He looked at me and hollered my name. “Annie! Annie, look!” He panted like an excited puppy, and he hollered my name like a small child might holler it.
I ran closer and then I knew it was a telescope. A black, shiny, telescope. It was so beautiful, I couldn’t help but wonder how they had gotten such a rare thing in their possession.
“I’ve never used one of these,” I said admirably, and ran my fingers down the side. “Father used to have one when he was young.”
Charlie grabbed my sleeve and told me to look into the glass. “Look,” he pushed me closer. “Look.”
“I will,” I laughed, and looked into the glass and up to the sky where I saw the stars.
“I want a turn,” and Henry stood in front of me. If it was Felix, he would have shoved me.
“Look at that,” Artie pointed to the sky and that was when I saw my first shooting star. It lasted only a second. But then more came.
“I’ve never seen anything like it,” I said wondrously. “You love the stars, don’t you?” I asked Charlie. “Aren’t they spectacular?”
“Me and the stars, we’re friends,” he said. He leaned back and crossed his arms proudly. “They tell me things, I tell them things.” He grinned triumphantly as if he owned the stars, as if they were his great achievement. He stepped closer and then whispered in my ear, “I telled the stars about you. And do you know what they said?” That moment he was quite breathless and I could hear the twinkling of excitement in his voice. But he never told me. He simply spun around and played with himself and forgot all about it. I never brought it up again.
He sounded like he was humming his own tune, as if he were his own hero of some sort.
I bit my lip and looked away. I was happy that it was so dark outside or else Henry would scorn me for blushing.
Artie laughed at me. “Oh, Charlie, talkin’ to stars. You’re not all there, are you, Charlie?”
“I like those stars,” he said defensively. “Sitting up there watchin’ us.” Then he gasped and pointed to an extra bright one in the sky. “Look! Look at how brighter she is than the others,” he shouted at the top of his lungs and pretended to be that “eagle” he always talked about.
“Brighter than you,” Artie added lightly.
“I like the stars more than you,” Charlie hollered. “The stars aren’t s-stupid.” He chuckled at himself. “Stupid. Stupid Artie!” He pointed at his brother and released breathy, full laughs.
“I know that,” Artie replied.
I sighed and stood next to the telescope while Henry had his turn. “I’ve talked to the stars before, but from my bedroom window. I’ve never seen them so bright and big. Does anyone else know about this field?”
“No,” Artie said, almost immediately. He looked nervous, like he was afraid I’d show the world this place. “I don’t show anyone my secret places.”
“‘Cept Robin May,” Charlie added in a sing-song voice.
“‘Cept, no one,” Artie fired at him. He sigehd and looked at me. “Like I said, as far as I know, no one knows about this place. And we’re keepin’ it that way. This is our secret.” He looked at Charlie and ruffled the boy’s hair. “This here’s our field.”
“Our field,” Charlie repeated and crossed his arms toughly.
We played and ran like little children, and I had nearly forgotten that fine feeling. I didn’t worry about the others, or about my torn clothes and muddy feet. I didn’t think about Mother or Father.
As we got into the early hours of the morning, we grew tired, very tired, and we told ourselves we would stay up all night. But then we laid down on the grass, Henry, then me, and then Charlie and Artie, and we must’ve, sometime that morning, fall asleep.
