The Same Stuff as Stars

by Katherine Paterson

  “Misery what?” Bernie asked.

  “Nothing,” said Verna. “Forget it. It’s a new day dawning.”

  “I’m hungry,” said Bernie.

  “You’re always hungry, boy.”

  “I didn’t have no lunch.”

  “Judas Priest,” Verna said. “I never thought about lunch. I’m sorry, old man.” She paused at a stop sign and eased her way into traffic. “Soon’s we’re out of this blinking burg, we’ll stop, okay? Just let me get out of here, and we’ll stop the first place we see.”

  “I’m hungry now.”

  “Shh, Bernie,” Angel said. “She said she’d stop soon as she got out of town.”

  Within a few minutes they were on the interstate, the pickup rattling in protest at the speed Verna was demanding from it. They whizzed past an exit that would have taken them into a big shopping area, past some farmland, and then mountains to the left and mountains to the right and trees everywhere. As soon as Bernie realized that there was nothing but trees on either side of the interstate, he started whining again. “I’m hungry. You said we’d stop.”

  “Well, I will. There just ain’t any place to stop right now unless you fancy a maple leaf burger. Would you like that, huh?” Verna leaned across Angel and punched Bernie’s arm. “How ’bout a side of tasty French-fried bark, hey?”

  “Don’t punch me,” Bernie ordered grumpily.

  “My, my, ain’t you the bear. And I thought the bear was riding on the floor.”

  “He’s just hungry,” Angel said. She was hungry, too, but Verna was more likely to pay attention to Bernie’s belly than to hers.

  “Yeah, well, we’re all hungry,” said Verna. “Soon’s we get off the interstate, we can find us a place to eat. Promise.”

  “You already promised,” Bernie said. “You promised soon as we got outta town.”

  “You are a bear, ain’t ya? Well, let’s sing a song for a bear.” She began to sing:

  “‘The bear went over the mountain,

  The bear went over the mountain,

  The bear went over the mountain,

  To see what he could eat!’”

  At “eat” she leaned across Angel and made as if to bite Bernie. He shrank back toward the window, but he was trying hard not to smile.

  Verna grinned. “Okay,” she said, “all together now: ‘The bear went over the mountain...” Angel joined in, watching Bernie out of the corner of her eye. They sang the song over and over, always ending with the big bite toward Bernie, until his shadow of a smile broadened and he let out a giggle.

  “That’s what I like to hear,” Verna said. “I like to hear my babies being happy.” She sighed. “Not enough laughing in this family. That’s for sure. Okay. Now. Let’s plan what we’re going to eat once we find a place. Me. I think I’ll have me a steak about as thick as a brick. How ’bout you, Angel?”

  “I don’t know. Maybe a hamburger.”

  “Just a burger? The sky’s the limit when you’re dreaming, girl. Better dream big.”

  “Cheeseburger? With fries?”

  “That’s better. What’s Bernie Bear ordering?”

  “An elephant.”

  “Wow. I don’t know if we’ll have time for an elephant. They take a while to cook.”

  “A double bacon cheeseburger with giant fries and a milk shake—chocolate,” Bernie said.

  “I shoulda settled for the elephant. Probably been cheaper.”

  Bernie giggled again. “But you said—”

  “Wow. I gotta be more careful. This mouth of mine is going to get me in trouble big-time!”

  Bernie leaned around Angel and growled at Mama. “If you don’t watch out, the bear will eat you up.”

  “Whoa,” Verna said. “I’m scared to death.”

  It was just then, just when they were all having such a great time together, that they heard the noise. “What’s that?” Verna leaned out her window.

  “It’s the pickup,” Angel said. Then, through the usual rattle of the truck she heard the blubbidy blubbidy blubbidy sound.

  “Hell’s bells. I got a flat.” Verna pulled over to the shoulder and cut off the motor. “And me with no spare.”

  “You should always have a spare, Mama. It’s not safe not to—”

  “Give me a break, Angel. I don’t always do what I ought to, okay? Satisfied?” Verna climbed out and walked around the truck.

  “I want to see!” Bernie said, reaching for his seat belt. Angel grabbed his hand. “We better stay here,” she said. “It’ll just make her madder if we get out.”

  They watched anxiously as Verna lifted the hood and then walked several yards ahead and began to wave at passing cars. It was ages before anyone stopped. When at last a guy in a pickup older than their own pulled over, Verna ran up to his window. They talked for a few minutes, and then the pickup drove off. Verna came back and climbed into the cab.

  “Why wouldn’t he help us, Mama?” Bernie asked.

  Verna sighed. “I haven’t got a spare. He’s got to send somebody back who can tow us to a station. “That’s all I need today. A tow charge and a new tire.” She put her head down on the steering wheel. “Oh Lord, can’t anything ever go right? What did I ever do?”

  Angel wanted to comfort her. She wanted to put her hand on Verna’s back and tell her everything was going to be all right, but she wasn’t sure it would be.

  It seemed like hours before the tow truck came. The driver didn’t want all three of them squeezing into his cab, and for a minute Angel was afraid Verna might leave them behind. But she took Bernie on her lap and sweet-talked the guy into taking them all along. It was hours more at the station while the man sent to somewhere else to get the right-sized tire. When it looked as though everything was taken care of and they were all set to go, the guy told Verna her credit card was maxed out. Verna said that was not possible and the guy said it was, too, and how was she going to pay for the tire and the tow? Verna started cussing him out, right there in front of everybody, and the man got red in the face and started cussing back.

  Angel tried her best to keep Bernie out of the way, but before she could stop him, he was grabbing Verna’s shirt right in the middle of the fight. “Mama, I need some chips!”

  Verna turned, scowling. “Just get in the damn truck, Bernie. You, too, Angel. I’ll work this out. I know somebody I can call. You two just get in the truck and don’t give me any more grief, you hear?”

  ***

  “I just wanted something to eat.” Bernie’s lip was stuck out almost as far as the windshield.

  “I know, Bernie, but she’s trying to work things out. We can’t interrupt.”

  They strained their necks, looking in all directions, for whoever might be coming to their rescue. At last, a rusty Subaru wagon drove up, and a man Angel had never seen before got out, but he must have been the one Verna was waiting for because she came running out of the station and threw her arms around him. Then she stuck her arm through his and led him inside.

  “Why was Mama hugging that man?” Bernie asked.

  “She’s just thanking him for coming to help her,” Angel said. “It doesn’t mean anything.”

  It couldn’t mean anything. Verna was married. Married people didn’t go around hugging people who weren’t their husbands. She thought Verna would bring their rescuer over and introduce him, but when the man came out, he said a few words to Verna and then, with only a quick glance at the pickup and the two children peering out the window, went back to his car and drove away.

  At least, Angel thought, Verna would explain who the man was. But all she said was, “Well, that’s it. We can get going now.”

  Bernie slumped against the door. He was tired, Angel saw. She gave a big yawn. Bernie yawned in echo. “How ’bout Bernie and me take a nap, Mom?”

  “I’m not tired,” Bernie said, trying to cover another yawn. “I’m hungry.”

  “Well, it won’t hurt you to be quiet and give Angel and me both some rest.”

&
nbsp; Angel closed her eyes and tilted her head back against the seat. Verna switched on the radio. “Find me a station, Angel,” she said.

  Angel wound the dial past all the noisy rock stations until she found one that was playing a gentle music that wrapped its arms around her. It reminded her of a field trip last year to hear the Vermont Symphony. All the kids had really liked the concert, but they pretended they’d been bored. Only stuck-up rich people were supposed to like that kind of music. Angel relaxed into the sound. Soon she heard Bernie’s gentle snore.

  Angel hadn’t meant to sleep. She’d just meant to make Bernie take a nap, but it had been a hard day, and before she knew it Verna was slowing the car. Angel sat up abruptly. They were at a traffic light.

  “Well, sleeping beauty, awake, without a kiss.”

  “I was just resting my eyes.”

  “Said the potato.”

  Angel made herself giggle. When Verna made a joke, she liked people to laugh.

  “I have a feeling,” Verna said, “there’s a fast-food heaven around here somewhere.”

  She turned left, and, sure enough, within a mile or so they came upon the familiar herd of arches, huts, buckets of chicken, and burger joints. Verna pulled into the first one and hopped out, yelling as she did so, “C’mon, kids. Time to eat.”

  “Bernie’s still asleep, Mama.”

  “Just leave him in the truck, then. We’ll bring something out.”

  “You can’t do that!” Honestly, sometimes she felt older than Verna. Everybody knew you couldn’t leave a little kid unattended in a vehicle.

  “Well, you wake him up. I’ll be inside.” She slammed the driver-side door and marched into the restaurant, leaving two kids unattended in a vehicle. Verna’s mood changed faster than Vermont weather.

  “Wake up, Bernie!” Angel shook his arm. “We’re at McDonald’s.”

  Bernie was not about to wake up. Angel shook him harder and yelled and threatened. Finally, he opened his eyes partway. “Shuddup,” he said grumpily.

  “You want Mama and me just to leave you out here while we eat?” Unbuckling both their seat belts, she reached across him and opened the door. “Get out, Bernie.”

  “Umm,” he muttered.

  She climbed over him to the running board and began yanking at his arm. “Get out this minute, Bernie Elvis Morgan, or I’m telling you, you’ll be sorry. Mama’s so mad she might just leave you here forever.” The lie worked. Bernie’s eyes fluttered open. He grunted and climbed out of the pickup. She pushed down the lock, slammed the door, and, with Bernie stumbling after her, went inside.

  For a moment, she didn’t see Verna. Maybe she had left them. No, there she was in a booth. Angel dragged Bernie over. “I got you kids Happy Meals,” Verna said. She didn’t seem too happy about it.

  When he heard “Happy Meals,” Bernie came wide awake. “I don’t want a Happy Meal.”

  “Well, they was clean out of elephants. Sit down and eat.” It was the tone of voice that even Bernie obeyed.

  “You get a toy in a Happy Meal,” Angel whispered.

  Bernie scowled.

  “You can have mine, too.”

  “And your fries?”

  Angel handed over the toy, then the fries, without watching. She was looking at her mother, who had not ordered a steak. They didn’t have them at McDonald’s, did they? Mama had nothing in front of her worn-out face but a cup of coffee about a foot high. She was barely sipping at it.

  “You okay, Mama?”

  “Yeah, sure. Why wouldn’t I be? I got a husband in jail and two kids around my neck and I’m heading right back to—Bernie Elvis Morgan! Can’t you do nothing right?” Verna slid to the left and jumped to her feet in one quick motion. Bernie had knocked his soda over, and it was pouring across the tabletop right toward where her lap had been. Angel ran for napkins and came back with a handful. Bernie’s face was scrunched up, ready to bawl.

  “Don’t cry, Bernie,” Angel begged as she tried desperately to sop up the sticky liquid. “You can have mine.”

  “I’ll see you kids in the truck.” Verna snatched her purse off the table and stomped out.

  “Get up, Bernie.” Angel was frantic. “Here, take your Happy Meal. You can eat in the truck.” She dropped the sopping napkins on the table, grabbed what was left of her burger in one hand and her mother’s coffee in the other, and, half pushing Bernie ahead of her, hurried to the truck. It was still there. She went around to the driver’s side. “I brought your coffee, Mama.”

  Verna rolled down her window and took the Styrofoam cup, nodding a begrudging thanks. She was furious. “He didn’t mean to, Mama,” Angel said. “He was tired and sleepy. It was my fault. I made him come in.”

  “I swear, I don’t know what I’m going to do with you kids.”

  “We’ll be good, Mama. Could you—could you please unlock the other door?”

  “Oh, for pity sake, Angel.” She stretched over and pulled up the button.

  Bernie was standing crying beside the truck, his fries in one hand and the action figures and his half-eaten burger clutched together in the other. Angel reached up and opened the door for him. “You want to sit by Mama or you want the window?” she asked quietly.

  “Window.” He mouthed the word.

  FOUR

  The Other Side of the Mountain

  Verna juggled the coffee, changed gears, and steered, all at the same time. Couldn’t she see how dangerous that was? Besides, she hadn’t fastened her seat belt.

  “Want me to hold your coffee?”

  “Huh? No. I can manage.”

  Angel opened her mouth to object, but closed it again without saying anything. She took a bite of her burger and chewed. Something the size of a golf ball was blocking her throat, and it was hard to swallow. “Eat, Bernie,” she commanded out of the side of her mouth.

  “She promised me a double bacon cheeseburger and a chocolate milk shake,” he muttered.

  “She was just pretending, Bernie.”

  “Well, I wudn’t pretending.”

  “Better just eat what you got.”

  “Where’s my soda?”

  “You spilled it, remember?”

  “You said I could have yours.”

  “I couldn’t carry it, Bernie. I had my hands full.”

  “I need something to drink.” His voice was louder now. Verna was sure to hear him whining.

  “Shh, Bernie, please. I can’t help it. Just eat what you got. Mama’ll get you a drink next time we stop.”

  “And when is that going to be? Never. Never. Never. Never.”

  “Shut up whining, Bernie. I’m trying to drive,” Verna said.

  “See, Bernie, you’re bothering Mama.”

  “I don’t care. I want a milk shake and I want it now. Right this minute.”

  Verna jerked the pickup over and slammed on the brakes. “I’ve had enough of your whining, Bernie Elvis. Now you shut up or get out of this truck and walk.”

  “Mama!” Angel cried. “She doesn’t mean it, Bernie.”

  “The hell I don’t. Now, are you going to shut up and eat your food or what?”

  “Shuddup and eat my food,” said Bernie, his voice tiny and trembly. Verna shouldn’t scare him like that. He was only a little kid.

  “That’s better.” Verna pulled out into the road again. “I don’t mean to be ugly to you kids, but I got my limits. Understand?”

  “Yes.” Both children whispered the word. Bernie looked like he was going to cry, so Angel handed him the rest of her hamburger.

  ***

  They were leaving the town now and heading out into real country. The road was two narrow lanes with lots of hills and curves with pastures and woods on either side. There wouldn’t be any place to buy a milk shake. Angel felt pretty sure about that. Cows looked up as they passed, chewing idly and staring after the car like nosy neighbors. Angel leaned across Bernie and stuck her tongue out at one of them. The cow tossed her head and walked away.

  Be
rnie’s pinched face relaxed. He turned and stuck his tongue out at the disappearing black-and-white forms. Watching the rear ends waddle away, tails switching, they both giggled.

  “Well, I’m glad somebody’s happy for a change,” Verna said, speeding through a tiny village. Angel opened her mouth to suggest they stop at the general store that she could see from the crossroad, but Verna was intent on the road ahead. The village was far behind them before Angel could even try to get the words out.

  “Won’t be long now, kids, promise.” Angel had long ago learned not to rely on Verna’s promises, so it was no surprise when Verna did a tight U-turn in the middle of the narrow road and started back in the direction of the village. She cursed under her breath.

  “Are we lost?” Bernie asked.

  “No, Mr. Smarty-pants, we are not lost. Just somebody thought it would be cute to take down the blinking road sign.”

  “Don’t you know the way?” His voice was high and pinched.

  “Of course I know the way. It’s just been a while since I been here, and everything looks different.” She made a quick cut onto a dirt road. “Relax. This is it.”

  But it wasn’t. Neither were the next three dirt roads they tried, although Verna kept assuring them that she had found the right road, but each one either petered out into a dead end or came to a crossroad that proved her wrong.

  “It’ll be dark soon. Maybe we should ask directions—” Angel began.

  Verna snapped her off. “And just who from, Miss Know-it-all? You see anybody I can ask directions from?”

  “We could go back to...”

  “Not on your sweet life. I’m through going back.” In the end, however, they did go back down the paved road, not, as Angel had hoped, to the village with the general store, where they could have gotten Bernie a drink, but to a lonely old house somewhere along the way. The paint was peeling, and the roof of the attached barn was half caved in. Verna jumped out of the truck, leaving the motor running. This time Angel didn’t protest.

  “I got to pee.”

  “Can’t you wait, Bernie?” Angel eyed the house. She didn’t think Verna would be too happy if they appeared beside her at the door asking to use the toilet.