Every Soul a Star (5 page)

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Authors: Wendy Mass

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BOOK: Every Soul a Star
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I told Ryan that I talk to Eta and Peggy sometimes, like they’re real people. He didn’t laugh or anything mean like that. He didn’t even ask if they talk back. (They don’t.) Instead he told me about a star called Gliese 581, which has a bunch of planets around it. That night we found Gliese on my starmap in the constellation Libra, and then looked for it using the biggest telescope we could find in the Star Garden. I told Ryan that since he was the one who knew about the planets, he should get to name the person living on one of them. He came up with Glenn. It’s really cool to know that while I’m looking up at Glenn’s planet, so is Ryan, even though he lives hundreds of miles away.

The tiredness slides off as I run at top speed out of the office toward the Star Garden. On the way I pass Ralph and Jimmy, the two handymen/security guards who work here every summer. They’re outside of the storeroom, unloading crates of water and boxes of frozen hot dogs and burgers in the reddish glow of the streetlight. I like having them here; it makes me feel even safer than I usually feel. One year it was Ralph’s quick reflexes that kept a big black bear from getting into the storage room and eating the campers’ food. He likes to say he wrestled him with his bare hands, but really he just banged his toolbox against a metal pole, and it scared the bear away. This year with all the eclipse chasers coming, Dad had to hire a lot more people, including people to stock and run the dining hall for the guests who signed up for the meal plan.

“Hey, Alpha Girl!” Ralph calls to me as I start up the hill. “Where ya going in such a hurry? The eclipse isn’t for another two weeks!”

Ralph likes to tease. I don’t mind. Alpha Girl kind of sounds like a superhero name. The Adventures of Alpha Girl! Visiting the stars in one giant leap! Plus it’s much better than Kenny’s old nickname for me: Astrodork.

“Can’t tell you!” I call over my shoulder. “Secret Alpha Girl business.”

“Aw, leave the girl alone,” Jimmy says. “She’s probably hurrying off to meet her boyfriend.” Then they both guffaw like that’s the funniest thing they ever heard. I guess it is pretty funny considering there are no boys my age within an hour’s drive. But once Ryan gets here tomorrow, I’ll have someone to hang out with who’s only a year older than me. Not that he’s my boyfriend. I’ve never thought of him that way. I’ve never thought of anyone that way.

My three favorite telescopes are lined up in a row, with my stool in front of them, just as I’d left them this afternoon when I cleaned all the optics. I like to look at my three friends at the same time instead of moving one scope between the three of them. Once all the guests start arriving, I’ll be lucky to get any telescope time at all.

I sit down in front of the first telescope, an eight-inch Newtonian Reflector, and look up. Even though I can easily find Cassiopeia by just looking for the M-shaped stars, I prefer to do it the way Dad taught me. First I look for the Big Dipper. That’s the easiest group of stars to find in the sky. Then I follow the two stars on the edge of the dipper and they lead me to Polaris, the North Star. I love Polaris, because it’s the only star that doesn’t move. As long as you’re north of the Equator, if you can find Polaris, you can tell where you are on the earth. Standing below it makes me feel like I’m right where I’m supposed to be. I keep going in a straight line from Polaris directly to Cassiopeia, and to Eta. “Hi, Eta!” I say out loud. Then I move on to Peggy and Glenn, in the constellations Pegasus and Libra. Libra is a hard one to find, even though I’ve done it so many times. I usually go to Virgo first, and then scan to the east until I’ve found it. Once I have them all, I look at each one and give a little wave. I tell them about what Kenny overheard, and about how my parents are acting a little strange. I tell them I’m excited to see Ryan tomorrow, and that I’m a little nervous about what things will be like here when all the people start arriving. They twinkle at me, and I feel that same contentment and peace I always feel when I look at the stars. Like they’re protecting me, shielding me from harm. The vastness of space always puts my problems in perspective.

By the time I get back into the house, everyone is asleep. I’m not the only one who worked really hard today. I fall back onto my bed and stare up at the glow-in-the-dark stickers of the solar system on the ceiling. Dad put them up when we moved here to help me adjust to life under the stars. I don’t remember ever going to sleep without stars—real or fake—overhead.

I must have fallen asleep because the next thing I know the sun is hitting my closed eyelids and my nose is oddly cold.

I open my eyes to find a grinning Kenny, clad in his favorite pajamas (green, with giant grasshoppers on them), pressing a purple ice pop against my nose.

“Why, Kenny?” I croak.

“Why what?” he asks innocently.

I roll over and sit up, taking the ice pop from his hand. My mouth feels icky and dry, and the ice pop looks very refreshing. I stick it in my mouth before I have a chance to wonder where the ice pop might have been prior to its arrival on my nose. It is indeed refreshing. I hear Dad and Jimmy outside my window in a heated debate about whether or not we have enough toilet paper for the guests. Dad is saying that as long as everyone uses no more than three squares per bathroom visit, we’ll be fine. Jimmy argues that no one uses just three squares. Dad says, “Well, they should!” Then Jimmy suggests they post a sign up in the bathrooms telling people about the three square limit. And Dad says, “Yes, let’s do that.” Then Jimmy says, “I was kidding, man. We can’t do that!”

“What time is it?” I ask Kenny, hopping off the bed.

He points to the watch still on my wrist. I realize I’m still in the same clothes from yesterday. It’s a few minutes before nine. Ryan’s grandparents always leave their house before dawn and arrive promptly at nine. Good thing I’m already dressed. I shove on my sneakers and slide the rest of the ice pop into my mouth before tossing the stick into my trash can. I shiver a bit as the cold ice hits my teeth.

“Can I come with you?” Kenny asks eagerly. He looks forward to Ryan’s visit as much as I do.

“If you can keep up,” I reply, running out of the room. The pouch bounces hard against my chest and I tuck it under my shirt. I don’t stop running until I’m halfway down the road that leads from the main house to the front gate. It’s the only road on the property that’s paved, and it always feels weird to have my feet on such solid ground. Ryan’s grandfather’s car pulls through as I round the corner. Right on time! Ryan and I always race each other from the gate to their cabin when they first arrive. I’ve been running a lot this past year, and I’m ready to finally beat him.

His grandfather gives a little honk and pulls up alongside me. Then he slowly gets out of the car, stretches, and rustles my hair. Mr. Flynn is the opposite of my grandfather in the looks department. Grandpa was tall and thin, and Mr. Flynn is short and wide. Grandpa used to joke they looked like Abbott and Costello, who I think are some TV actors, but I’m not sure.

While Mr. Flynn signs in with Ralph at the gatehouse, I lean into the car, expecting to see Ryan’s grandmother in the passenger seat. Instead, I see Ryan, taking off a pair of headphones and shoving them in his backpack. I glance into the backseat, but she’s not there either.

“Hey, Ally!” Ryan says. “How’s it going?”

His voice is deeper than I remember. “It’s going good. Where’s your grandmother? Is everything okay?”

He unfolds himself from the seat and climbs out. He must have grown a foot! And his blond hair is cut so it spikes up a bit in the front.

“She’s fine,” he says. “Just wanted to stay home this time. She’s in some bridge tournament or something.”

My jaw falls open. “She’s missing the eclipse for a bridge tournament?” That didn’t sound like her. Mrs. Flynn was always the first one out in the Star Garden each night. I can’t imagine her missing the eclipse for anything.

Ryan shrugs. “Women. Who understands ’em?” He closes the car door behind him and leans down to tighten his shoelaces. When he stands back up he says, “Hey, I bet I can tell the last thing you ate!”

Before I can ask what he means, he says, “C’mon, let’s race. Maybe this year I’ll let you lose by only a few yards.”

Leaving me no time to dream up a suitable response, he takes off down the road toward camp. “Hey, no fair!” I yell, hands on my hips.

“Teenage boys,” Mr. Flynn says, with a broad grin and a wink. “Who can understand ’em? You want a ride back?”

I shake my head. “I’ll see you later.” I take off down the road but fail to catch up with Ryan. My swift feet are no match for his long legs. I watch from behind as Kenny, who has changed into shorts, appears on the road. When he sees Ryan racing toward him, he waves his arms in the air. Ryan waves back as he approaches but doesn’t stop. When I reach Kenny I can see the disappointment on his face. He doesn’t really understand that Ryan is too old to hang out with him.

By the time I reach the campgrounds, Ryan is sitting on the large rock at the entrance, grinning.

“Not nice,” I admonish, breathing heavily.

He elbows me playfully. “Sorry, Al. Just trying to keep you on your toes. So how’s life out here in the boonies?”

I lean up against the rock. “The same. It’s good. Going to be crazy for the next few weeks though. But it’s really exciting. So you wanna go to Alien Central now?” That’s always Ryan’s first stop when he arrives.

He shakes his head. “Gotta take a shower.”

“In the middle of the day?”

He laughs. “People shower at all times of the day, Ally. I’ll meet you after, ’kay?”

“Okay.”

Mr. Flynn pulls into the parking lot. Kenny hops out of the front seat, carrying Ryan’s backpack. He hands it over and says, “Hey, dude, what’s the four- one-one?”

I stifle a laugh. Kenny picks up slang from the campers and loves to try it out on new people.

Ryan and I share a smile, and then he clasps Kenny on the shoulder. “Not much to report, little man. How’s life by you?”

“Two thumbs up,” Kenny replies, beaming at the attention.

My dad comes out of the office building and gives Mr. Flynn a big hug. My dad is a hugger. My mom calls him a
tree hugger.
Even though the expression means someone who tries to save the environment, he actually DOES hug trees sometimes. “Isn’t anyone going to show the Flynns to their cabin?” Dad asks, pointedly looking at me.

“I was just about to, Dad,” I say as Kenny grabs Mr. Flynn’s suitcase and starts dragging it across the dirt. I try to lift Ryan’s duffel out of the trunk, but I can’t even budge it.

“What’s in here, bricks?”

Ryan laughs and pulls it out of the trunk. “It’s my weight set. I have to get strong so I can play football in high school next year.”

I let that sink in as Ryan, Kenny, and I start out on the path to the cabins. Ryan’s grandpa stays behind to talk to Dad.

“You start high school next year? Already?”

“Yup. Ninth grade. If you were in a real school you’d be going into eighth.”

I stop walking and Kenny almost bumps into me. That’s true! I haven’t thought of what grade I was in for a long time.

“And I’d be going into sixth!” Kenny says with a hint of pride.

“That’s right, little man,” Ryan says.

This conversation is making me uneasy. I’m not sure what an eighth grader is supposed to feel like, but I don’t think I feel like one. I ponder this while Kenny tells Ryan about all the activities leading up to the eclipse.

“And there’ll be famous scientists coming from all over the country and we’ll learn how to make our own eclipse glasses and Ally’s gonna lead a class on the constellations every night, aren’t you, Ally? She knows them better than anyone!”

Ryan smiles and I blush. Kenny’s my biggest fan.

We reach the cabin and drop the suitcases inside. The overhead fan does a good job of keeping the cabin cool. Ryan pulls the string on it a few times and it goes even faster. The weather doesn’t faze me and my family the way it does the guests. Some of the cabins even have air conditioners in their windows.

“Do you want to visit the Unusuals?” I ask Ryan. “After you shower, I mean.”

“Sure,” he says, unzipping his duffel. “I’ll meet you at the stream in, like, an hour? I’m feeling lucky today. Gonna find me a whole lotta plastic gold!”

“Sounds good,” I say, heading for the door. Kenny doesn’t follow. He’s watching Ryan pull out his hand weights. “C’mon Kenny, leave Ryan alone.”

“It’s okay,” Ryan says. “He can stay.”

I pause for a second. Does that mean I can stay too? But Ryan has his back to me and is showing Kenny how to do a bicep curl. That’s fine. I have a ton of chores to do anyway. I hurry back down the path and into the office. Mom is on the phone and typing at her computer at the same time. She gives a little head nod when she sees me, then keeps talking.

“I told you, sir, only six people can fit comfortably in a cabin. But your party is welcome to join the campers in the field. . . . Yes, there are bathrooms, and you’re welcome to use the kitchen facilities. . . . Okay, I’ll switch you over.” She clicks over to another screen and starts typing. People have been altering their reservations all month. Mom takes it all in stride. She’s starting to look a little frazzled though.

She hangs up and says, “The Flynns all checked in?”

I nod. “Did you know Ryan’s grandmother isn’t here?”

“Uh-huh,” she says, scrawling a note on her pad. “I think she’s not feeling too well these days.”

This was a surprise. “But Ryan told me she had a bridge tournament, that’s all.”

Mom puts down her pencil. “I guess they didn’t want to worry him. Best not to say anything, okay?”

I pick up my logbook and say a soft goodbye as I leave the room. I feel sorry for Ryan, not only because his grandmother might be sick, but because no one told him. One thing about my family is that we don’t keep things from each other. Not the big things, anyway.

“Hey, Ally,” Mom calls out to me.

I stick my head in the room. “Yeah?”

“Nine o’clock tonight at the dining pavilion. Family meeting.”

“Okay.” Then I add, “Is this about my necklace?”

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