Starlight

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Starlight Page 1

by Nikki Gaspar




  Starlight

  Nikki Gaspar

  Copyright © 2020 Nikki Gaspar

  All rights reserved

  The characters and events portrayed in this book are fictitious. Any similarity to real persons, living or dead, is coincidental and not intended by the author.

  No part of this book may be reproduced, or stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise, without express written permission of the publisher.

  Contents

  Title Page

  Copyright

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Chapter Eighteen

  Chapter Nineteen

  Chapter Twenty

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  Chapter Twenty-Nine

  Chapter Thirty

  Chapter Thirty-One

  Chapter Thirty-Two

  Chapter Thirty-Three

  Chapter Thirty-Four

  Chapter Thirty-Five

  Chapter Thirty-Six

  Chapter Thirty-Seven

  Chapter Thirty-Eight

  Chapter Thirty-Nine

  Chapter Forty

  Chapter Forty-One

  Chapter Forty-Two

  Acknowledgement

  Chapter One

  The school grounds swarmed with students clad in white brought back a sense of nostalgia. Parents, while holding cameras in their hands, dragged and shoved their children on every frame-worthy background—their embarrassment accentuated by the blinding flashes.

  “Congratulations, Claire!”

  “Thank you, Mom! This is for you,” I said, placing the medal around her neck.

  My mom, Emma Dava, deserved the recognition because of the hardships she endured to get me to where I am today. As a young widow, she juggled raising me and earning a living because we didn’t have any relatives to help her out.

  “My baby is now going to college! I’m so happy, I could dance!” she said with a skip, the medal swaying on her chest.

  “Mom, please don’t dance here in school.”

  “Fine,” she said, placing her arm over my shoulder. “I’ll dance at home while we cook.”

  Mom and I decided to celebrate my success with our neighbors as a way of saying thank you for all their help. Mr. Taz and Mrs. Luminare, both widowed, live in the houses beside ours. I thought they were my grandparents when I was younger because they have been a big part of our lives. They babysat me so that mom could go to work and they witnessed all my milestones and disappointments in life.

  ***

  Once we arrived at home, I kicked off my shiny, new shoes, giving my blistered feet some relief, and went into my room to change. Finally comfortable in an oversized shirt and lounge pants, I padded into the kitchen where mom had the ingredients lined up on the counter.

  “Where do you want me?”

  “This is your task.” She gestured to a bucket overflowing with soil-covered potatoes.

  Tiredness crept into my bones at the thought of how long I would scrub all those dirt away. “That’s a lot.”

  Mom placed her hands on her hips and raised her eyebrows. “Mr. Taz likes his potatoes, we cannot repeat what happened on his birthday when he finished everything and left us with barely a spoonful each,” she said.

  I chuckled and grabbed one to start scrubbing.

  Mom made good on her promise. She played music on our stereo system and swayed her hips while she chopped some carrots. I didn’t know how she could do both at the same time, but that’s Emma Dava—doer of the impossible.

  “Oh, shoot!” Her knife dropped on the kitchen counter with a clang.

  “What happened? Did you hurt yourself?” I looked at the knife, but it was not bloody.

  “No, I just have to dash into the grocery store. Continue what you’re doing.” She removed her apron and was by the front door in under a minute.

  “Why are you in a hurry?”

  “I forgot to get the fresh milk that I like to use on the mashed potatoes. You know that they sell out fast.” She didn’t wait for a reply and just ran like the cattle cow was chasing her.

  Only a few minutes have passed after she left when there’s pounding on our front door.

  “Did you forget your purse again, Mom?” I shouted, hurrying to open it for her.

  Behind the door, however, was Mr. Taz, instead of my mom, his fist raised in a door-knocking position.

  “Hi, Mr. Taz! Do you need anything? We are not yet done preparing our dinner.”

  “You need to come with me to the hospital,” he said, “your mom was run over by a car.”

  Chapter Two

  Was there an explanation why every time a person is in a hurry, lots of things happen to cause a delay? I didn’t give it much thought before, but now that mom was in the hospital, alone, and possibly fighting for her life, I noticed every little thing on the road.

  “What happened, Mr. Taz? She’s always careful when she walks on sidewalks and when she crosses the streets,” I asked, watching his grip on the steering wheel tighten on each maneuver.

  “Yes, she was careful. I watched her from afar. But when she crossed the street, a car came fast, beat the red light, and ran her over. The driver did not even stop to check if she was okay.”

  “But there should be CCTV cameras there, right?”

  “Yes. After I called the ambulance to bring your mom to the hospital, I called the police immediately. They should be checking everything now and will catch that culprit soon.”

  “Thank you.”

  He reached with his right hand and ruffled my hair. “We are family, Claire, no need to thank me.”

  ***

  When we arrived at the hospital, the staff said that mom was in the operating room, and we needed to wait for the doctor to know her condition.

  The waiting room had a tensed silence. Its many chairs were occupied only by two people and both of them had their heads bowed in prayer. Mr. Taz and I joined their quiet vigil, but as time passed by with no news from the doctor, I felt the panic rising in me. The only sound I could hear was the thudding of my own heart.

  “Are you Claire Dava?” A voice broke the silence. I opened my eyes and saw a woman standing in front of me, her white uniform contrasted with her somber expression.

  “Yes, doctor, please tell me my mom is okay…”

  “I am sorry, Claire,” she said, as her eyes turned sympathetic. “We are not able to save your mom. She was in a very bad condition when she arrived here; a severe head trauma caused her death.”

  Mr. Taz caught me as I stumbled. She couldn’t have possibly said what I thought she did. There’s no way mom is dead.

  ***

  The days that followed passed by in a blur. If not for my neighbors, I wouldn’t know what to do to make mom’s last days with me special. Mr. Taz took care of the funeral arrangements, while Mrs. Luminaire prepared meals and made sure the mourners were comfortable. Now, it was time to pay our last respects.

  “Goodbye, mom,” I whispered, tossing a bunch of her favorite
lavender flowers in the pit.

  Everyone who attended the funeral left soon after, and by the time the cemetery employees started to fill the pit with soil, Mr. Taz, Mrs. Luminaire, and I were the only ones left.

  “You have a real star now, Claire,” Mrs. Luminaire said, sadness clouded her features.

  “Do you want to stay here with your mom for a while or do you want to go home?” Mr. Taz asked.

  “I want to stay for a while, thank you.”

  He patted me on the back and left the cemetery with Mrs. Luminaire.

  I perched myself on the lawn beside mom’s grave, moisture seeped into my jeans, but I didn’t care. This was my mom’s resting place, my comfort was not important.

  I started talking to her like she was still here—imagining that we were at home, and lounging on our sofa while sipping fruit shakes—reminiscing about the good times we had together until my voice was hoarse.

  The sun was down and the only lights left were the stars and a dim light situated near the grave when I get to my feet, said goodbye, and walked home.

  Chapter Three

  The man who killed mom was caught by the police two days after she was buried.

  He was a drunk driver and got scared, so he just sped away.

  He kneeled in front of me and wept, begging for forgiveness, but remorse cannot change the consequences of his actions.

  I would still be an orphan and he would still spend the rest of his life in jail. I know that he did not do it on purpose, but he was irresponsible to drive while he was drunk. His disregard for rules caused my mom to lose her life and I cannot forgive him for that.

  ***

  “Claire! Open this door, now!”

  I woke up to a persistent knocking on the front door, but I have no desire to let Mrs. Luminaire inside the house. I managed to evade her for a week, but it looks like her patience with me had run out.

  “Kid, I am holding a chainsaw right now. I will count to ten. If you do not open this door, I will destroy it!” Mr. Taz drove the point home by turning the chainsaw on and disturbed the neighborhood with its reverberating sound.

  My house held all the memories of my mom, so I would never allow anyone to destroy it. Mr. Taz knew that hence the chainsaw threat.

  “One…Two…Three…Four…Five…Six…Seven—”

  “Where’s the chainsaw?” I asked, lifting my hand to cover my eyes from the sunlight.

  My neighbors stood in front of me but there was no chainsaw in sight.

  Mr. Taz gestured to the smartphone in his hand. “It was just a sound effect that I found on the internet.”

  Ugh.

  “Don’t you have water in your house?” Mrs. Luminaire asked.

  “What do you mean? Of course, there’s water.”

  “Then why do you smell like a rat?” Her nose wrinkled in disgust.

  She pushed me to the bathroom and closed the door forcefully on my face.

  “Do not come out until you are clean and smelling like a human again!”

  Admitting defeat, I turned on the shower and flinched when the cold water hit my face. There was no point in refusing to follow her orders because I really do smell bad.

  It took an hour to scrub all the grimes that accumulated on my body, and when I was finally human again, I went out of the bathroom to a savory smell permeating the air.

  “Eat all of this,” Mrs. Luminaire said. She placed a plate of food in front of me and then watched like a jail warden until the plate was clean.

  “You can’t continue like this, Claire. It’s okay to be sad—crying is good—but you must move forward with your life. Hiding in your house, not eating, and letting yourself live in squalor is not the proper way to mourn. Your mom would want you to live your life and not wallow in grief.”

  I thought my tears have already dried up, but after her words, I felt them flow again. She’s right; my mom would smack me if she saw how I acted the past week.

  “Thank you, Mrs. Luminaire.”

  “No problem, Claire, you’re like a grandchild to me, you know that.” She used her handkerchief to dry my face and then stood up. “Now, I want you to wash the dishes and then clean your house. I will come back later to check your progress.”

  What a quick turnaround. My catatonic state the past week really turned her into a warden.

  ***

  I went through my mom’s belongings a few days later. I wanted to put her clothes in boxes so that I can decide if I would donate them to charity or keep them for the memories.

  I also wanted to keep safe everything that she treasured—like her wedding ring. It was too tight for her finger, so she kept it in a jewelry box given to her by my dad.

  The box was hand-carved with the most intricate design and looked precious in itself. I didn’t know what other things she kept inside apart from the ring—I assumed she had a few other pieces of jewelry—so I was confused when I saw a paper carefully folded inside.

  The paper was old, thick, and well-worn as if folded and unfolded millions of times. Picking it up gingerly with my thumb and forefinger, I unfolded it, and neat, cursive writing was revealed.

  My Dear Emma,

  I can’t believe that after two years of waiting, you are almost ready to come home here in Bellanmuse. It is lonely here with you gone, but I am sure that everything is worth it. You are an intelligent woman. You can apply everything that you have learned to help our country become a better place for our future family.

  Please be sure to take a rest after studying and eat well too. I always worry you will get sick and no one is there to take care of you. Anthony thinks I am a fool. He said you are a grown woman, perfectly capable of keeping yourself safe, but I still worry. My brother doesn’t know how difficult it is when the woman you love is in a faraway place because Luisa never leaves the country.

  I miss you so much and I am very excited about your return.

  P.S. Please let me know the day of your arrival so I can come to pick you up at the airport.

  Love, Alfred.

  I wiped the tears that have fallen from my eyes. My dad died when I was a baby, so I never saw him, not even in pictures. This was also the first time that I have seen his handwriting. A chuckle escaped from my lips because I noticed that it was a little feminine, similar to how I write.

  Because of this letter, I found out that I have an uncle and his name was Anthony. I want to find out if he’s alive, maybe he’s married to Luisa and had children. It would be nice to have relatives.

  I opened the internet on my phone and searched for Bellanmuse because I have never heard of the place before.

  Bellanmuse is famous for its mountain that is shaped like a bell.

  Population: 3.2 Million

  Official Language: English

  Government: Monarchy

  According to the search result, it’s a small rich country quite far from my place.

  A four-hour journey—that’s not so bad. I ran to my room, opened shelves and cabinets until I found my passport in a box with my birth certificate and school documents. Then, I grabbed my debit card from my wallet and sat Indian style on the floor to search for an available flight.

  With trembling fingers, I chose a flight scheduled the following day, entered my bank details, then squinted and held my breath as I pressed the Purchase button. It cost a lot of money, but I am sure it would be worth it if I found my parents’ family.

  ***

  “Are you sure that you want to travel that far, Claire?” Mrs. Luminaire asked when I talked to her and Mr. Taz about my last minute trip to Bellanmuse.

  “I’m sure. I want to see if I still have relatives, but I will come back. This is my home.”

  And that was the truth. Even if I found my relatives, my two neighbors would still be my family and my home is with them.

  “Be careful, kid, call us if you are in trouble and I will fly there immediately,” Mr. Taz said.

  I packed just a few sets of clothes, placed my dad’s letter i
nside my bag, and then slipped my mom’s ring on a finger on my right hand.

  I hope that my parents were reunited in heaven and looking after me. Just like what Mrs. Luminaire said—I have real stars now.

  Chapter Four

  Mr. Taz brought me to the airport early the following morning. He spent the whole journey listing instructions on what to do if ever I was in trouble—number one was to call him immediately.

  I said yes to everything with my fingers crossed behind my back. The last thing I would do if I was in trouble was to call them. They were hours away and can’t do anything but worry.

  ***

  I sat on my assigned seat in the plane, opened the window shades, and extracted my dad’s letter from my bag. I found the smell and texture of the aged paper help soothe my knotted stomach.

  “Hi, dear, are you traveling alone?” a lady on the seat beside me asked.

  “Yes, ma’am. I’m visiting my relatives,” I said.

  “You’re a brave girl. When I was younger, I cannot ride this big, flying metal alone. I had to hold my mother’s hand for the whole journey.”

  Her animated personality was like a breath of fresh air and made me comfortable opening up with her. “This is my first time flying alone. My mom just died, you see.”

  She shifted in her seat. “Oh…I’m sorry dear, I’m so tactless.”

  “That’s alright. She’s in heaven with my dad now. I’m sure they’re happy.” I gave the lady a reassuring smile.

  “My name is Christine, by the way.”

  “I’m Claire.”

  Christine was chatty. I think she’s trying to forget that we were flying among the clouds, and since she’s also helping me distract myself from worrying, I just indulged her.

  She said that her son lives in Bellanmuse because he has a job there and she visits him all the time. Her son must earn a lot to afford expensive plane tickets.

  “Do you have a ride when we get to Bellanmuse? My son is fetching me. We can give you a ride if you want.”

  “Thank you, but I don’t know where I’m going yet.”

  “What do you mean? I thought you’re visiting your relatives?”

 

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