Every Soul a Star (28 page)
And then a few seconds later the sun completely disappears, leaving a hole in the sky. I feel its loss in the pit of my stomach. I hear myself scream in-voluntarily, but it gets lost among a thousand other screams.
And as streams of light fan out behind the darkened sun like the wings of a butterfly, I realize that I never saw real beauty until now. And one thought fills my head:
If this could be repeated every day for a year, I would never budge from where I stood.
7
I stuff my backpack with a flashlight, my sketchbook, two novels, a sweatshirt, and some bread and apples I took from breakfast. The conversation this morning was obviously all about the eclipse. People were comparing notes on how much totality they’d seen in their life, and how far they had to travel to see it. David invited me to a pre-eclipse party at their cabin, but I mumbled something incoherent and left as quickly as I could.
I had hoped Mr. Silver would be back by now. There are only a few hours to go before the eclipse. I had almost forgotten he had asked me to distribute the glasses.
I consider bringing a blanket with me, but those sleeping bags should still be in the shed so I’ll have something to sit on besides the concrete floor. I guess I could just stay here in the cabin and close the shades, but if anyone came looking for me they’d try here first. Better to stick with my original plan. I start to zip up the backpack and, as an afterthought, toss in my Game Boy and extra batteries.
I figure this is the best time to go, while everyone is racing about. Easier to get lost in the crowd. I have to admit, I’ve really enjoyed
not
being lost in the crowd. That’s why I have to do this. I take a last scan of the cabin and head out. I haven’t gotten five yards from my door when I run smack into Bree. Before I can stop myself, I’ve told her I’m not going to the eclipse. When she’s done reading me the riot act, as much as I hate to admit it, I know she’s right. And what would Mr. Silver say when he found out I didn’t see it after all this buildup? I’d feel so stupid. With a sigh loud enough to make the family ahead of me turn around, I changed direction. I’ve got a party to get to.
When I arrive, I see the partygoers have spilled out of the cabin onto David and Hayley’s porch. David sees me and clasps my shoulder. My backpack slips off my arm and crashes to the floor. “Hey, what ya got in there? You planning on camping out at the eclipse? You know it’s in the middle of the day, right?”
“Hey, you can never be too prepared. Boy Scout motto.” He laughs and heads off to refill the chips bowl. I slide the backpack against the wall so no one trips on it. I plop down on the top stair and before I know it, someone has stuck a soda in my hand. I turn around to see that it’s Pete.
“Thanks,” I say, taking a big sip.
He nods, but something’s not quite right. His eyes are darting around a lot, almost like he’s scared.
“Hey, are you okay?”
He nods, but too quickly. I pat the spot next to me. He sits down. “What’s going on?” I ask.
In a low whisper, he says, “I’m scared. And there’s all these people around.”
“Do you want to go for a walk? We can talk where it’s quiet.”
He nods. I tell him to wait there while I go ask his parents if it’s okay. When I find Hayley she seems relieved that I’m willing to watch Pete for a while. We agree that I’ll bring him to the field before the eclipse, and we pick a place to meet. That gives me about a half hour to make Pete feel better. I grab my backpack and Pete and I head toward my original destination.
As I’d hoped, very few people are up on the hilltop, and those who are here are busy setting up all their equipment. The hilltop’s been designated as a “flash friendly” zone, which means that up here people can take pictures with flashes, and set up lights with their video cameras, but down in the field they do so at their own peril. During totality, the people around them will be very angry since it will ruin precious seconds of their night vision. It’s still early yet, but I don’t think I’ll be sharing my hilltop with many people.
Pete and I sit on the edge of the hill, watching all the activity below. We can hear the noise, but it’s faint and muffled. Pete had been quiet on the way up, but now I ask, “Why are you scared?”
He shrugs. “I like the sun. I don’t want it to go away.”
“But it will be right back. You know that, right?”
He shrugs again. “How can you be sure?”
I think on that for a minute. I really CAN’T be sure, I guess. “I promise you, it will come back.”
He smiles tentatively and says, “Okay, if you promise.”
I unzip my bag and hand him my Game Boy. It always relaxes me. I take out my sketchbook and start drawing. Every now and then the shouts from below get louder, but I figure we have a few more minutes before it’s time to meet Pete’s parents.
“I think this is broken,” Pete says after a while. “I can’t see the screen anymore.” He hands me the Game Boy. The screen is very dim. Then I realize with a sickening feeling that it’s not the screen that’s dim, it’s everything else. I jump up. “How long have we been sitting here?”
Pete shakes his head.
“We’ve gotta go!” I shove everything back into my bag and then pull the pair of paper eclipse glasses out of my back pocket. “Here, put these on.” I hand Pete the glasses. He has to hold onto them with one hand to keep them from slipping off. I grab his other hand. Together we stumble into the weird mustard-colored twilight. I risk a quick peek at the sun. The moon— black instead of white—is covering about three-quarters of it now. I force myself to focus on the ground as we slip and slide down the hill, not willing to go around to the path on the other side and use up more time.
We reach a grove of trees and stop for a second to stare at the tiny shadows on the grass beneath us. Streaming through the gaps in the leaves are hundreds, no
thousands,
of mini partially eclipsed suns. It’s the coolest thing I’ve ever seen, and I’ve seen Saturn. Pete kneels down to touch them. I could watch the whole eclipse this way. But I don’t want to. I want to watch it with Ally, in the field. With effort, we turn away and keep going. Pete is starting to breathe heavy, so I offer to carry him. He puts his arms up with no hesitation. I’m down the hill now, and running as fast as I’ve ever run, especially with a forty-pound kid in my arms and an overpacked backpack on my shoulder. Then a buzzing on my belt stops me short again. Out of habit I’d put my walkie-talkie on. The only person who had access to its mate is Mr. Silver. I put Pete down, grab it, fumble for the right button, and shout, “Hello? Hello?”
A very crackly voice comes through. “Where are ya, Jack?”
“Hang on! I’m coming!” The field is about a hundred yards away now. It’s getting darker by the second. “Are you back?”
“I’m back!” he shouts. “You did it! You tracked that planet!”
It’s easier to hear him suddenly because a hush has fallen over the field.
“I know!” I shout back.
“I’ll be expecting a lot more from you in class next year.”
I laugh and stick the walkie-talkie back on my belt. It’s a good thing I’ve been running each day with Ryan because I’d be dead by now otherwise. The landscape around us has turned a strange metallic silver. Gone are the blues and greens—even the red of my t-shirt. I feel like we’ve stumbled onto some whole other planet. Pete’s turning around in circles and pointing at the ground.
“Look! My shadow. It’s gone!”
His eyes are wide with fright. I twist around to look at the ground beneath me. He’s right. There’s enough light that we should still be able to see our shadows. I’m sure there’s some obvious scientific reason for this, but I feel a little deserted. If my walkie-talkie hadn’t worked just now, I’d think I was dreaming.
“Don’t worry, Pete,” I tell him, scooping him back up. “It’ll come back as soon as the sun does.”
I run across the road to the edge of the field as Pete’s thin voice says, “Promise?”
“Have I been wrong yet?”
He turns his head to look at me skeptically. Then he looks around at the crowd. “There they are!”
Sure enough, David and Hayley are running toward us, relief flooding their faces. Pete scrambles to get down and runs over to grab his mom’s leg.
“Our shadows went away, but they’ll be back!” he announces. “And we saw tiny suns on the ground!”
I don’t wait around to explain. Time’s ticking away. With a quick goodbye, I race toward the podium. It quickly dawns on me as I watch everyone staring up that I gave Pete my only pair of glasses. Fortu-nately, a few feet away is a booth selling merchan-dise. I hastily grab the last pair of eclipse glasses from the tabletop and fish around in my pockets for money.
“No worries, man, just take it,” the guy behind the booth says. I wave my thanks and put them on my face just in time to hear people around me yell, “There they are! The shadow bands!” I look up, but don’t see anything other than the small chunk that’s left of the sun. Then I see a crowd of people running over to look at something on the ground behind me. I turn to see a pattern of dark and light bands rippling across white poster boards. It’s mesmerizing. Where are they coming from? I have to force myself to keep moving. I keep my eyes on the podium, trying hard not to knock into anyone.
I’m almost there when something big and black comes hurtling toward me and I duck, throwing my arms over my head. The laugh of a woman next to me makes me peek through my arms.
“That’s just the moon’s shadow, hon. It can’t hurt you none.”
I spring up, and if I had the time, I’d be totally humiliated. But as it is, I’m out of time so the humiliation will have to wait. I run the last few feet and finally see Ally, with Bree on the other side of her. They’re facing away from me, staring up like everyone else. I almost trip again, over my own feet this time, but catch myself in time to see the last bit of light disappear. The campground erupts in screams and hollers as a whisper-thin circle of white flame appears above us. My heart skips a beat as I register the fact that the fiery circle is the only thing that proves the sun still exists. It’s like a big eye beaming down on those of us lucky enough to stand beneath it.
I slip my hand in Ally’s. She turns, and besides the tears running down her cheeks and the look of awe in her eyes, I can see surprise and relief when she realizes it’s me.
“Hey,” I say, squeezing her hand.
Thankfully, she squeezes back. “Where’ve you been?”
“Long story.”
“You’ll have to tell it to me sometime. Some
other
time.”
We laugh.
So we stand there, part of a crowd a thousand people strong, beaming up at the sky with wonder. I know with a sudden certainty that wherever I am in the future—up in my treehouse, alone in the school cafeteria, or trying to figure out what my teachers are talking about, a part of me will always be right here, right now, with that giant eye in the sky shining down on me, telling me it’s going to be all right.
Epilogue
As we stand hand in hand, it takes me a second to realize Jack has tears streaming down his face, and a second more to realize I do too.
“Mr. Silver’s back!” I shout over the screaming of the crowd.
“I know!” he shouts back.
“And our planet! We found —”
He laughs. “I know! Now look at the sky, not me!”
I laugh too. This is all so surreal. Kenny runs up and thrusts the binoculars at me. He’s already taken the filters off. “Look at the prominences!”
With one more squeeze Jack lets my hand go. I point the binoculars at the sky. Small pink streamers loop out from the darkened sun, one after another, and disappear. It’s so crazy to think the sun shoots those out all day long and we never see them. What beauty is hidden from us! I hand the binoculars to Jack and hear his sharp intake of breath as another one shoots out from behind the moon.
I finally remember to look for the stars and am surprised that I can recognize them. Normally I wouldn’t be able to see these stars until winter, but now everything is reversed. It’s Orion! I can’t believe it!!! There’s Sirius and Betelgeuse! Rigel and Capella! And there’s Mercury and Mars and Venus, higher in the sky than they ever are at night.
I scream out the names of the stars and the planets and point wildly at them until everyone around me is laughing. I’m filled with warmth and gratitude for this new group of friends. All my visions of what this day would be like never included anyone other than my family and Ryan’s. I always thought the only friends I’d be able to share it with would be Glenn, Eta, and Peggy. I never expected to have new friends on the same planet as me.
I don’t notice Dad is gone until his voice comes over the speaker. “Everyone enjoying the eclipse?”
The hollers and hoots and screams are the loud-est yet.
“As soon as I count to five, time to cover your eyes and equipment again.”
The crowd boos.
“Remember, everything you saw is going to happen again, in reverse order. Hang on!”
I try to collect myself and focus. Kenny and Melanie gather around the white sheet they put down, trying to see the elusive shadow bands. But if I want to see the moon’s shadow this time, I’ll have to remain alert. Dad counts down, and as soon as he gets to one, I throw on my glasses. The diamond ring returns, followed in quick succession by Baily’s Beads. I feel an inexplicable loss as the light of that single beam shining through a crevice on the moon erases the corona from view. My brain freezes again as I try to burn the image of that billowing circle of light into my memory. That was both the shortest and longest three minutes of my life.
And I forgot to take a single picture.
Before I can berate myself too much, for the second time today someone puts their hand in mine. This time there’s a sense of urgency. I tear my eyes away from the sky and turn to see Bree tugging on me.
“Now!” she cries. Suddenly a wall of darkness races toward us at a speed I never would have thought possible. It hits us straight on, rushes past, and leaves me breathless and blinking. Bree and Jack and I whirl around in time to see it speed over the crowd and out to the eastern horizon.