A Glasshouse of Stars

by Shirley Marr

  Mrs. Huynh. Mr. Huynh. Kevin. Where are you all? I need you.

  You look over at Big Scary. You have to go back. You have run out of time.

  Big Scary looks smaller than she’s ever been, and as you get closer, she seems to be moving farther away toward the horizon. It’s then you realize with horror that she will soon be the size of a dollhouse; any hesitation and she will be gone.

  You run quickly up the staircase. Big Scary covers her face with her long cactus fingers in fear. The door has shrunk to half its size, so you get on your knees and crawl inside. It is terribly cold inside and also very dark.

  “Hello?” you whisper, and the word echoes around the walls.

  You rush toward the bedroom, but Ma Ma is not there.

  A layer of frost is forming on all the furniture. The windowpanes are white and blind.

  “Hello?”

  You don’t know if you are talking out loud or inside your head or what is real and what is just your imagination and if you are writing this story or it is writing you.

  There is no answer at all.

  You run into the kitchen and then directly to the dining room, but the dining room is in the act of disappearing. You make a dash for the door, but it’s too late and you come face-to-face with a blank wall.

  Is the staircase going to disappear too? You rush to the bottom of it and touch your hand to the banister. The icicles that have formed all the way to the top tremble and clink together. Then the entire thing shatters like glass. Backing away, you look around desperately. You know instinctively, on the inside, that you have to go up. But you have reached the end this time. You have come so far, but all opportunities are gone now.

  Until you dig a little deeper. You remember your secret spiral staircase. The one that connects the adults to the children. It is still standing. You don’t wait around for it to disappear—two, three, four steps at a time you sprint upward, breathing deeply, clouds falling out of your mouth.

  There is not much left of the upstairs now, not much of the landing to stand on.

  You watch as the last remaining spare rooms melt away and the handrail disappears from under your hand like mist.

  Until nothing remains but your bedroom.

  It feels like ice when you enter. Your palms are so white that the three lines determining your life, heart, and fate are etched clearer than ever. Your bed is still there and so is your rag doll. You pick her up and hold her close to your heart. Ma Ma made her for you when she had nothing else to give you. And for that, you will love her more than any fancy plastic horse.

  The only sign of life is the cocoon in the corner of the window, gently trembling.

  Then somewhere inside the ceiling you hear the muffled voice of your mother.

  “Ma Ma!” you shout. You stand up on your bed to find the sound, but it is gone.

  “Meixing, my amazing girl.” Ma Ma’s voice comes in loud, but just as suddenly fades away. You try to jump from your bed to touch the ceiling, but it is out of the reach of your fingertips.

  A bell rings. The air becomes very clear and very pure. There is a scratching noise, maybe inside your head. Something is hatching. You turn to see the little pink cocoon twisting and moving. It is struggling, and your first instinct is to go over and help, but something inside tells you that whatever is coming needs to come out by itself.

  Hours seem to pass as you stare transfixed—or is it days? You cannot tell because the room is lit by neither natural nor artificial light, but internally from within. You find yourself cheering and willing for that moment when the caterpillar will come out of the home as a moth. It will be Ba Ba. Everything will be okay again. You will find Ma Ma and you will all fly home upon his back, navigating by the pull of the moon.

  With one last push, the creature pops out and climbs onto the window frame to stretch its crushed wings. You realize that it is not the big brown moth you thought it would be. It is a beautiful pale pink butterfly, almost translucent. As she moves her wings, now strong and fully outstretched, the frost on the window dissipates under her warmth and you can see your precious broken-down glasshouse outside.

  The butterfly takes flight.

  It is not your father. It is you.

  She flits from the window and flutters around your head.

  I will find my mother and get my mother the help she needs, you both think as one.

  You float over to the wardrobe and the door opens. Pink plumes of smoke roll out like all the neon nightmares of your dreams. You step inside and a light comes on. Illuminated in front of you is a staircase.

  Each step glows pink as you ascend, even though you don’t touch them. You are light as air, a feather falling upward.

  At the very top you don’t find Big Scary’s eye. Instead, lying on the ground, as big as the moon, in a round room completely covered in white sheeting, is Ma Ma.

  You throw yourself down beside her.

  Ma Ma, I love you.

  She opens her eyes as your heart bursts into a million purple aster blossoms. You can read her mind and she tells you:

  I found a place to hide.

  Ma Ma sits up and cries out again and places her hand on her stomach.

  I think the baby is coming.

  You support Ma Ma with both your arms.

  Ma Ma, I am here to carry you somewhere safe. I will tuck you into my heart, but don’t worry about it being too cramped because my heart has never felt so big. Like you once carried me, I will carry you to safety.

  You take the weight of Ma Ma tenderly on your pink wings as the whole world dissolves around you, but you are not scared because all you have learned and all you have been through has made you strong, even though you are as fragile as a butterfly.

  Down you fly over the staircase that used to be solid but is now only a memory.

  The girl in you marches into the kitchen, the only room that is left.

  Picking up the phone, you punch in three digits.

  “Emergency services, can I help you?”

  And you say, because the words finally manage to arrange themselves on your tongue:

  “Please come quick. My family needs help.”

  * * *

  You are a butterfly looking for a flower. You are a daughter looking out for your mother. You take her to the glasshouse, where it will be safe until help comes. The black-and-white gatekeeper lets you in, but then hurries off in alarm.

  “Where am I?” asks Ma Ma as she opens her eyes and sees the millions of galaxies in the night sky. The moon smiles serenely and casts her silvery light.

  “It’s going to be okay,” you tell her, and you squeeze her hand.

  “I know,” she says, trying to smile. “I know why I named you Meixing. Do you know what it means?”

  Beautiful star.

  “To me, you will always shine the brightest in the dark.”

  Her grip on your hand suddenly tightens until it is unbearable, but still you let her hang on and you don’t pull away. Ma Ma places her other hand on her stomach and so do you. You can feel the life kicking inside her, wanting so much to live. With one final squeeze until all the tears pour down her face, Ma Ma gives it her all and your new baby sister comes open-eyed and crying into the world.

  You look in wonder at the little pink newborn lying on Ma Ma’s tummy. You pick her up oh so gently and the purple petals scattered upon her blow away in the wind. It is not until she touches your face with her tiny hand that you realize that tears are streaming down your face.

  “I’m sorry there are so many things you’ve had to learn to adjust to,” Ma Ma says, tears still falling from both eyes. “But your sister will grow up here and she will never know the pain you have known. This will always be her home.”

  The universe exhales and you can feel it.

  “What are we going to name her?” you ask Ma Ma.

  “How about Xinxing?” says Ma Ma. New star. “And because she will always share part of the same name as you, you will always be connected b
y the stars.”

  “I love her!” you exclaim. “I know I don’t even know her yet, but I know I love her!”

  You burst into happy tears, happy ones this time, and Ma Ma does too until you are a giddy and snotty pair.

  “Thank you, Meixing. This hot-water bottle is keeping me nice and warm,” says Ma Ma. Confused, you look down to see the pink serpent curled up against Ma Ma’s side like some sort of pet.

  You feel a hand on your shoulder. You look up to see First Uncle standing there smiling down at you. Standing there with him is…

  “Ba Ba! You’ve finally come home!”

  You look over at Ma Ma, but she doesn’t seem to be able to see either of them.

  “Meixing, look at you! I am so proud of how you have grown,” says Ba Ba.

  He holds out his hand, and you reach your hand over to him. Both your hands touch.

  “Please look after your family,” says Ba Ba as he looks fondly at Ma Ma and then tenderly at the baby in your arms. His eyes meet yours, and you feel yourself surrounded by so much love.

  “It’s time for us to go,” First Uncle says. “Your father needs me to take him to his new life, and I think it’s about time I began one of my own too. The glasshouse is yours now. I am completely confident that you will look after it and love it as much as I did.”

  He ruffles your hair affectionately.

  You watch as First Uncle and Ba Ba slowly fade away until you can see the night sky through them. In one of the galaxies you believe you can see two new stars.

  You feel a hand on your shoulder.

  You look up and it is Kevin, with the black-and-white cat cradled and purring in his arms.

  “I came as fast as I could. Is everyone safe?”

  You nod and put your hand over his and hold on tightly.

  Absolutely and completely, you know that your home is not anywhere else but here. With your family and your friends. There are flowers falling from the sky. They gently touch your face and you shed those butterfly wings and become yourself. Like a flower, you set your roots deep into the soil and feel yourself come to life and breathe and grow.

  With your mind, you reach out to Big Scary and you rebuild her brick by brick and put her back together again. All her mismatched scales and her patchy fur and her funny moods and her inexact feelings, exactly how she is. Her perfectly imperfect self.

  You look up at all the galaxies until your eyes become sore. Somewhere in the distance you can hear an ambulance siren wailing. The panes of the glasshouse flash in red and blue. Your imagination will always be there for you when you need it, to provide you solace and comfort, but now it is time for you to step back into reality. The colors in the panes of the glasshouse mix into each other and become purple.

  You hand Xinxing back to Ma Ma and you go out to greet the paramedics.

  What you notice first is that it’s not so cold anymore.

  Spring has arrived.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX Rocket

  It is the day of the big presentation, and Ms. Jardine’s rickety classroom is bursting with special guests. Mr. and Mrs. Huynh are there and so is Kevin’s grandmother, who is almost one hundred years old. You finally get to meet Josh’s parents. Mrs. Khoury hands you a jar of olives to replace the one you lost and you take it shyly; she asks you to come over for dinner sometime and you tell her you would love to.

  You stand shoulder to shoulder with Kevin and Josh, a little nervous, a little excited, crowded around the food table Ms. Jardine has set up, stuffing potato chips into your mouths. You look at the audience as they take their seats, and it is almost time for the three of you to take the stage.

  Josh goes first. He reads the story about Book Boy, and the more he reads, the more powerful his hero becomes. He trips up villains with his vast knowledge; banishes baddies by being much smarter than all of them. Book Boy can’t be contained, as he knows every way to escape and how to read every situation. He has his trusty sidekicks, one of them being Grammatical Girl, who is very strict about sentence structure and has the ability to shift time from the past to the present tense. She is also a very good and kind friend. Then there is also Drawing Dude, whose every sketch becomes reality and who is very useful for drawing holes and scissors or whatever the situation calls for, but he’s bad at reading maps.

  Everyone claps and cheers. Josh blushes and goes to sit with his parents.

  Kevin goes next, and he has written a fairy tale, except instead of a prince saving a princess or even a princess saving a prince, it is about a boy and a girl who can take care of themselves (thank you very much), helping each other to carry on. They go on grand adventures on a long wooden boat that sails through the night sky to different planets and stars in the galaxy, visiting alien races and running away from space monsters. They even spend an extended stint on Europa, the water moon, for under the ice crust is a whole ocean of extraterrestrial life to explore, but they are happy in the end to return home to planet Earth.

  There is loud clapping and cheering, especially from Kevin’s hundred-year-old grandmother. Kevin pretends to be bashful by looking at the floor and kicking at it, but his ears have turned red. He is secretly pleased.

  Then it is your turn to step up on the stage to tell your story, and your story goes:

  “I live in a house called Big Scary, even though she is not always scary. Sometimes she is kind. She is more than a house, she is our home.

  “Big Scary has one eye that lives in the very top room. There is only one way to get there and it is a secret. Inside the room, once all the sheets are removed, is a library full of all sorts of books. One day I hope to be able to read all of them. Right now I can only read the simple books, but one day I will be able to read the ones with really big words.

  “When Big Scary is feeling sad, she shrinks. When she is happy, there is no limit to how big she can get. I have realized she is only a reflection of ourselves. She is not perfect, but she is only human. In fact, I am thinking of changing her name to Little Scary.

  “I have a magical greenhouse in the backyard that is filled with magic seeds of imagination. You only need to plant them for ideas to grow. I go there when I’m feeling sad. I’m not scared when it gets dark inside, as that’s when the stars shine the brightest. Maybe one day I won’t need to go there anymore, but I hope that I always need to dream. Even when I’m an adult.

  “Although there are challenges in life, everyone lived happily ever after.”

  You have tried not to look at the audience all this time because you are still nervous, but mainly because you are afraid you will be overcome with emotions and you won’t be able to keep reciting. Now that everyone is giving you the biggest claps and cheers for going last, you cast your eyes upward.

  You see Mr. and Mrs. Huynh smiling at you.

  You see Mr. and Mrs. Khoury giving you a standing ovation.

  You see Ms. Jardine beaming so hard.

  You see Mr. Jones patting her on the shoulder.

  You see Kevin and Josh giving you the thumbs-up.

  You see Ma Ma, with Xinxing sleeping tucked against her body inside a stretchy cloth like a pink cocoon.

  And you see Ailing. Who you now call Aunty Ailing so that she knows she will always be wanted, now that she lives in an apartment up the street from Little Scary. Ma Ma makes her kueh and Ailing gives her too much in return for them, but you know Ailing wants to make sure Ma Ma has enough money. Ma Ma talks about opening a kueh stall one day to provide for you all. Ailing cried when you invited her to your presentation day. Now her eyes crinkle again as she fights back happy tears.

  Last but not least, you see yourself. You realize there are tears rolling down your face too, but you let them roll because they are tears of hope.

  You step off the stage, and Kevin and Josh both engulf you in a huge hug.

  You think about the fun you will have on the weekend exploring the glasshouse and Little Scary together. You will show them the pale pink door that has suddenly come back on the
second floor. The one behind which you once saw a rocket ship, a slide, and a spinning wheel.

  You have never felt as much as you do right now that you truly belong.

  Acknowledgments

  Foremost to my agent, Gemma Cooper, who was first to say, “I believe in you,” and is the lighthouse who guides me through the dark. Jessica Townsend for being my unofficial talent scout! My three wonderful editors, Zoe Walton, Rebecca Hill, and Krista Vitola, who helped lift me to even greater heights—go Team ZoBecSta! Becky Walker for the invaluable extra guidance and the cheering from the sidelines. Thank you to Jillian Nguyen and Rawah Arja for being my authenticity readers and offering me their valuable insight. The three other members of “The Faux Four”—Cristy Burne, H. M. Waugh, and Nadia L. King—for being authors and understanding. Kim Wisniewski, for putting up with my fully baby temper tantrums and being there for this long. Jacob Rechner, for unexpectedly teaching me how to write so simple and clean. Thuan Vo, for sharing with me his personal family story. Finally, to my sister, Leena Mah Vo, for being my first reader and the glue that holds everything together; she is truly made of stars.

  About the Author

  Photograph © Jessica Wyld

  SHIRLEY MARR is the author of Little Jiang, Fury, and Preloved. Shirley lives in Perth, Western Australia, with her family.

  Visit us at simonandschuster.com/kids

  www.SimonandSchuster.com/Authors/Shirley-Marr

  Simon & Schuster Books for Young Readers

  Simon & Schuster, New York

  Shirleymarr.net

  Also by Shirley Marr

  YOUNG ADULT

  Fury

  Preloved

  MIDDLE GRADE

  Little Jiang

  SIMON & SCHUSTER BOOKS FOR YOUNG READERS

  An imprint of Simon & Schuster Children’s Publishing Division