As Far as the Stars

by Virginia MacGregor

  Christopher’s kneeling by the rock.

  He waves me over.

  We have to find Leda. We don’t have time to look at the view. To stop.

  ‘Air! Come over here!’ he yells.

  ‘We’ve got to get back down the mountain,’ I call out as I run towards him.

  But he doesn’t budge.

  When I get to him, he smiles.

  ‘What?’ I say.

  He nudges his head to his side and looks down.

  I don’t see anything at first. But then I catch sight of her tail caught up in a tangle of yellow leaves, the exact same colour as her fur.

  I crumple onto my knees and throw my arms around her.

  Her body’s limp but she’s breathing hard.

  ‘When she got up here, she ran around like a crazy thing for about a minute and then flopped down and fell asleep. Dead to the world,’ the young guy says.

  I keep hugging her, burying my face in her rough fur, kissing her. A warm tear drops from my cheek onto her belly.

  ‘You silly, silly dog,’ I say.

  ‘Well, she sure is a strong one – for a little dog,’ the woman says.

  ‘Yeah, she is,’ I say, gulping back more tears.

  I lift her into my arms. She stirs slightly but stays asleep.

  ‘She’ll be too tired to walk back down,’ I say.

  Christopher crouches beside me. ‘I’ll carry her. She’s light.’

  I look up at him, my eyes swimming, and say. ‘You knew she’d be here?’

  He shakes his head. ‘A lucky guess.’

  ‘We’ve got a headlamp – should get us through the last bit of the trail if it gets dark,’ the man says. ‘If you’re happy to walk back with us.’

  I look at the couple properly for the first time. They’re totally equipped for the hike. Proper hiking boots. Hiking backpacks. Water bottles slotted into the side. Hats. The kind of clothes that protect you from the sun and dry off quick if you’re caught in the rain and stop you from sweating too much all at once. If Jude and Stephen were ever to hike, this is how they’d do it.

  ‘Thanks,’ I say, ‘that would be great.’

  Christopher looks up. ‘Would you mind if we took a few minutes – to take all this in?’ He looks around the mountain range. ‘If it’s no trouble?’

  The man and the woman smile at him. ‘Sure – you’ve walked all the way up, you should get to enjoy the view.’

  ‘Thanks,’ Christopher says.

  Still keeping hold of Leda’s sleeping body, he puts his backpack down. Then he looks at me and holds out his hand.

  I shift my telescope onto my other shoulder and take his hand and we walk towards the highest point on the ridge, to the point where it feels as though you’re closer to the sky than to the earth.

  For a long time, we sit on the ridge, Leda sleeping between us. Occasionally she twitches and lets out a small whine but she stays asleep.

  We stare out at the sunset.

  Christopher goes really quiet beside me.

  ‘It’s pretty awesome up here, isn’t it?’ I say.

  He doesn’t answer, he just keeps staring out at the sky.

  ‘Blake wrote a song up here once – about how it was like we could touch heaven.’ I pause. ‘Which is kind of cool…if you believe in heaven, that is.’

  He’s still quiet, too quiet.

  A moment ago, he was really excited about finding Leda and about coming over here to look at the view. I don’t understand what happened.

  The sun is setting fast now, a ball of fire dropping behind the mountain range. It’ll be dark soon.

  I look over at the couple. They’ve got their backpacks on.

  ‘We should probably get going,’ I say. ‘They’re waiting for us.’

  But Christopher still doesn’t answer. It’s like he’s in some kind of trance.

  ‘Christopher?’

  And that’s when I see it. A light aircraft, more like a glider than an airplane, so thin it could be made of paper. It’s sweeping between the mountains, its wings tilted to one side. And then it disappears. Christopher doesn’t take his eyes off it. Or the space where it disappeared.

  ‘Oh, Christopher…’

  He takes off his glasses and bows his head between his knees. His shoulders start shaking. And then his whole body.

  A few minutes ago, he was fine. He was so happy to have found Leda. Seeing that plane, being up here, so close to the sky, must have flipped some sort of switch.

  He’s shaking uncontrollably now.

  Leda’s head shoots up. She nudges Christopher.

  He doesn’t acknowledge her. His shoulders slump down further. And then he starts crying. Loud, deep sobs that seem to come from somewhere deep inside him.

  ‘Hey, hey, it’s going to be okay.’ I put my arm around his shoulders.

  He shakes me off so hard I nearly fall backwards.

  ‘Christopher?’

  ‘It’s not going to be okay,’ he says.

  ‘They’re still investigating—’

  He shakes his head.

  ‘He’s not coming back.’

  ‘You can’t say that.’

  Tears drop down his cheeks. ‘He’s not coming back and I never even got the chance to show him…’ He lets out a gulp.

  ‘Show him?’

  ‘That I could be someone. That I could make him proud of me.’

  ‘He was proud of you.’

  He shakes his head. ‘You don’t know my dad. I was a disappointment, Air. His only son and I was a disappointment.’

  ‘I don’t know your dad, but I know you. You’ve sat beside me for two days straight and that’s long enough to know that you’re the kind of guy any dad would be proud of – should be proud of. And I get that he gave you a hard time but that’s on him, Christopher, not on you. We think parents know what’s best for us, but most of the time they’re making it up as they go along – like we are. And they make mistakes. Big mistakes.’ I pause. ‘Even your dad.’

  My words are just bouncing off him. He’s not ready to hear them, not yet.

  I look over at the couple. They’re still standing there, waiting for us.

  ‘Look, why don’t we get off the mountain. Get some food. Then we can talk properly.’

  He shakes his head.

  ‘I can’t.’

  ‘You can’t what?’ I ask.

  ‘I can’t move. I don’t want to move.’

  ‘Christopher?’

  He looks up at me, his eyes red.

  ‘Just go. Leave me up here. I’ll work things out.’

  ‘Work things out? Seriously, Christopher? You’re miles from anywhere. No. I’m not going to leave you at the top of a mountain after dark.’

  His shoulders start shaking again. ‘I can’t do this anymore.’

  I get then that he’s serious. That unless I physically drag him down the mountain, he’s not going to budge.

  ‘Well, I’m not leaving you here,’ I say.

  He doesn’t respond.

  I get up and run over to the couple. Leda stays with Christopher, her small body pressed up against his like she’s trying to pin him down; like she’s scared he’s going to drop off the edge of the mountain.

  ‘Is everything okay?’ the woman asks.

  ‘Not really.’ I look over at Christopher. ‘We’re going to have to stay up here for a little longer.’

  The man and woman exchange a glance.

  ‘You can go – you should go,’ I say. ‘We’ll work it out. I’ve walked this trail before.’

  The man puts down his backpack. ‘No. We can wait.’

  ‘Really – you don’t have to do that, we’ll be fine,’ I say.

  The woman touches my arm. ‘We’re in no hurry. We’ll stay here and enjoy the night sky.’

  I want to throw my arms around them and thank them – for not leaving me up here alone. For being here when everything’s falling apart.

  ‘Thank you,’ I say.

  ‘Su
re,’ the woman says.

  Then I walk back to Christopher and sit down beside him. Leda’s head is resting in his lap but her tail’s twitching: she knows that something’s wrong.

  ‘You can take as long as you like,’ I say. ‘But I’m not leaving without you. None of us are. We’re going to wait here until you’re ready.’

  He doesn’t answer but I see his shoulders relax a bit and he puts his glasses back on.

  And then we wait.

  And we watch the sky.

  Until the sun’s disappeared.

  Until the sky goes from red to grey to dark blue to black. Until the stars come out. Until the night noises start to echo around us. Owls. Deer. The wind in the pines. Until it starts to get cold. Goosebumps flare along my arms. The wind picks up.

  After a while, I lean my head against his shoulder and, this time, he doesn’t push me away.

  When the sky’s totally dark and the stars are bright, I take out my telescope and hand it to him.

  ‘Here,’ I say.

  Because I don’t know what else to do. To make him feel better. I just know that it’s what I’d do if I felt like my life was falling apart: I’d look up at the night sky, at the stars.

  He hesitates and then he takes the telescope and presses it to his eye. I let him watch for a few minutes. Then, I say:

  ‘Sometimes, it takes time to get to the people we’re really meant to be with.’

  He puts down the telescope and turns to face me, his brow scrunched up. His eyes are still puffy from crying but I can feel that he’s calmed down.

  ‘You’ve spent all these years with your dad. And you talk about how you feel like you didn’t really belong. And now, with everything that’s going on, you’ve been forced to find your mom again—’

  His eyes go wide. ‘You forced me to find my mum again.’

  ‘I guess I kind of did. But what I mean is – whether it was me or what’s going on with the plane or whatever, maybe it’s meant to be?’

  I can’t believe I’m even using this language. I don’t believe in meant to be. Blake’s the one who’s into that superstitious stuff. How life’s full of signs. How the universe has a purpose for us.

  ‘Finding your mom could be a good thing. A really good thing. Maybe you’re more like her – maybe she’ll get you. I love both my parents but I’m way more like Dad. Mom’s amazing – totally amazing. She’s a kickass attorney for the White House and she’s always there for us and she has like a million different skills and talents. But when I’m with Dad, it’s like my whole body relaxes. He makes me feel like I belong.’

  ‘Mom left,’ he says.

  ‘But now she wants to see you, right?’

  ‘Only because I called.’

  ‘Maybe that’s true. Or maybe there’s a whole load of reasons why you guys haven’t been together. I know it’s not my place to say this stuff. But I want you to know that it’s not on you – the fact that you’ve never had anyone get you, or see you for who you are. You just haven’t met the person who will make you feel like you belong. And it could be your mom.’

  He looks at me, his eyes swimming.

  ‘Dad didn’t want me to see her.’

  ‘What?’

  ‘I asked him once: why we didn’t visit. I knew other kids who had parents who weren’t together and they split their time between their mum and dad, even if their parents hated each other.’ He swallows hard. ‘He said she didn’t deserve to be in my life.’

  ‘Wow, he really said that?’

  ‘He said that when she left me with him, she made her choice. That she doesn’t get to change her mind. Dad’s black and white about stuff like that. He has such high standards for himself and he holds other people to them too. He believes in people doing the right thing, no matter how hard it is.’

  ‘Sometimes life’s more complicated than that though, right? Sometimes people mess up.’

  ‘Dad doesn’t have time for people to mess up.’

  ‘You think she tried to get in touch with him? That she wanted to reach out to you? I mean, it’s been seventeen years, right? That’s a long time. People change. She’s still your mom. She’d still be thinking about you.’

  ‘I don’t know. Maybe. Whenever I asked Dad questions about Mum, he clammed up. So, I stopped talking about her. And I guess I thought he knew best – and—’ his voice chokes up. ‘Oh God.’

  ‘And?’

  ‘And I didn’t want to hurt him. He’s the one who’s always been there for me.’

  I want to remind Christopher about what he said about his dad: that although he was always around, he never spent proper time with Christopher; that he didn’t make him feel like he belonged, or that he was valued. And that Christopher has a right to find someone who gives him those things. Everyone does.

  ‘I think you should see her, Christopher.’

  ‘I don’t know.’ He looks down again. ‘I don’t know.’

  ‘Look, I get that you think that you’d be betraying your dad. And that it feels totally crappy, especially right now, with everything that’s going on. But I stand by what I said. That there are people out there who we’re meant to be with – sometimes the people we least expect. It could be your mom. That’s all I’m saying.’ I pause. ‘Or it could be someone else – someone who’s not even related to you.’

  ‘Someone else?’

  ‘You’re amazing, Christopher. And whatever your dad said, you’re leading a big life already – because of who you are. I see that.’

  Very slowly, he takes my hand and brings it up to his mouth. He kisses the space above my knuckles and, for a second, he closes his eyes.

  We stay for a while longer, staring out at the dark sky and then, very slowly, he puts down my hand and stands up.

  ‘I’m ready now,’ he says.

  I look back at the couple and give them a wave. It blows my mind, how total strangers can make things feel better when your life’s been turned upside down. How, a moment ago, Christopher was a stranger too and how, right now, there’s no one I feel closer to.

  Leda gets to her feet. She stretches out her limbs and then does a little jump.

  We both laugh, watching her, the tension of the last few minutes flooding out of our bodies.

  ‘I guess she won’t need to be carried,’ I say.

  Christopher leans over and strokes her back. ‘I guess not.’

  Then I pick up the telescope, Christopher goes over to get his backpack and we set off down the mountain again: two kids who only met a few hours ago, with a crazy dog bounding in front of us and a couple of strangers who’ve basically just saved our skin.

  The whole way down, all these thoughts and feelings crash around in my body and I can’t make sense of how they’re meant to fit together. I think about Blake and where the hell he is and whether I’m even going to make it to the wedding. I think about what Christopher’s going through and how, if his dad really is dead, if his mom’s the only one left, his life is never going to be the same again. And though I know I shouldn’t even be thinking about it with all this crap going on, my mind can’t help going back to how, a moment ago, he held my hand and pressed it to his lips.

  My heart flutters like a butterfly is trapped under my ribcage. And in this moment, I’d give anything for this feeling to go on for ever.

  Chapter Thirty-One

  21.16 CDT Burger King Rest Stop, I-81, TN

  We’re so hungry that we wolf down our burgers and fries without talking. We’re kind of talked out after our walk up the mountain. We fed bits of burger to Leda because I couldn’t be bothered to go back to the car to get the fancy food Blake makes me give her. Now she’s lying on Christopher’s lap, fast asleep, her teddy bear head resting on her paws. Christopher has totally got this service dog thing nailed: none of the staff even questioned us when we brought Leda in.

  When he finished eating, Christopher ripped off one side of the brown paper bag our food came in and started folding down the edges. Every now and t
hen he stops folding and gives Leda a rub behind the ears.

  ‘You two suit each other,’ I say.

  Christopher looks up and brushes his straggly hair out of his eyes.

  ‘What?’

  ‘You and Leda. You go well together.’

  He gives me a sideways smile. ‘What – small and scrappy and kind of irritating?’

  ‘Small and scrappy – and not to be underestimated,’ I say.

  He laughs. ‘I’ll take that.’

  ‘You should get a dog. When you go back to England.’

  My words hang between us and from the way his brow scrunches up I wish I could take them back. Everything is so messed up right now that it’s wrong to imagine anything concrete. Maybe he’ll never even go back to England.

  ‘Boarding schools don’t allow pets,’ he says. ‘Not for the students anyway.’

  ‘You could try the service dog act. You’ve got it nailed, you know?’

  He smiles for the first time since he had his breakdown, up on Deer Ridge.

  ‘The English are a bit more cynical about that kind of thing,’ he says.

  ‘Hey, are you saying that we Yanks are dumb?’

  ‘No. Just more generous in what you’re willing to believe.’

  ‘Well, one day, whatever, you should have a dog. You’re a dog person.’

  He reaches down and gives Leda a kiss between the ears. ‘The problem is, she’s set the bar high. It’ll be hard to find a dog that lives up to Leda.’

  As Christopher’s hair falls over his face into Leda’s fur I realise that the colour is so similar – a kind of sandy, golden blond with bits of caramel and bits of brown woven in – that it’s hard to tell where Christopher’s hair ends and where Leda’s fur starts.

  Leda nestles deeper into his lap, pressing her head into his stomach and Christopher goes back to folding his brown paper bag.

  I watch them for a moment and then, when Christopher goes back to folding his brown paper, I look around us.

  I look at this ugly diner with its strip lighting and its plastic chairs and its smell of fryer grease.

  I look out of the scratched windows, past our booth and out onto the highway, trucks and cars rushing past, all on their way to some life or another.

  And then I think about the rehearsal dinner. Those long tables with white tablecloths. Mom’s heirloom roses nodding their heads in tall vases. Yellow silk bows tied around the chairs. Everyone there except me and Blake. And although it should feel wrong, me sitting in this dingy fast food joint with a guy I’ve only known for a few hours when I should be there with the people I love – it doesn’t. Right now, sitting here, watching Christopher folding that paper bag, Leda on his lap, the restaurant nearly empty except for us, it feels like there’s nowhere else in the world I should be.