Crown of Stars

by Sophie Jaff

  “The smell,” she begins to tell me, “the smell—” then with a gasp of pain, clutching her stomach, she leans over and vomits; pastry crust and meat pool in wet stinking chunks on the dirt floor.

  She turns with a cry and runs, clambering up the stairs, leaving me alone in the darkness.

  I stare at the slimy mess. She may say what she will about the smell of the grain, or perhaps she will blame it on the pie maker, but it is clear now what her true condition is. Whether she learns to make ale or not makes no difference, because she holds all the power she’ll ever need within her womb.

  My days in my father’s house are numbered.

  5

  Katherine

  It’s 5:30 a.m. and Katherine is sneaking around the sublet, trying not to wake up the five-year-old sleeping in the next room. It’s funny, it’s Lucas’s birthday, and yet she’s the one who’s overexcited. Terrified, more like it. What the hell am I doing? she wonders, but there’s a satisfaction in it—the phrase “go big or go home” comes to mind as she gets ready in her jeans and shirt, clothing cherished because it isn’t office attire. She pushes back his door and begins to sing:

  Happy birthday to you!

  Happy birthday to you!

  Happy birthday, dear Lucas,

  Happy birthday to you!

  He’s up, eyes bright and alert. Katherine wonders how much sleep he got.

  “Hey, kid!”

  “Hey, Kat!”

  For a moment, she stands in the doorway, unsure of what to do next. On his last birthday, there were piles of presents. On his last birthday, his mom was alive. On his last birthday, Katherine was happy to give him a hug and a kiss, happy to watch from the sidelines. Now she’s in center field and all the stadium lights shine on her.

  “Well,” she says.

  He looks nervous, as if she is going to change her mind, sit on his bed and say, Now Lucas, I need to talk to you.

  Instead, she smiles. “Let’s have breakfast and be on our way.”

  Breakfast is not a success. Lucas watches his cereal grow soggy, while Katherine picks at her toast. Both of them are too keyed up to eat.

  Finally, they decide to pack two apples, some small cheese sticks, and granola bars for the journey. It’s one of those magnanimous bright blue days that September likes to give out as summer’s parting gift. Lucas is fizzing with excitement. It’s hard for him to keep still; he shifts from foot to foot. To the tune of “The Wheels on the Bus,” he sings: “We’re going to get a dog today, dog today, dog today. We’re going to get a dog today, a doggie doggie dog!”

  Katherine hasn’t seen him so happy since before Andrea died. Despite her anxiety over how they’ll actually take home a dog, his joy makes it all worth it. She smiles at him, and then resumes thinking about her plan. She’s thinking a small dog. Not an aggressive little pillow dog, but it’s going to have to be small or else how are they going to manage? Lucas understands that he’ll have to take care of it himself, feed it, and so on. But she also understands that while he may have the best intentions in the world, he’s still only five. He’s starting to comprehend responsibility, but she’ll need to be there if (when) the going gets tough.

  They can’t afford professional dog-walking services. In this neighborhood, children are taken care of by immigrants who get paid minimum wage, but dogs are walked by people with master’s degrees from Columbia. However, she has her eye on a teenage neighbor whom she thinks will do nicely. Actually, it doesn’t seem like such a bad career, dog-walking. The sun, the dogs, staying in shape, getting to know the city, notes about infamous clients stored later for some wildly successful novel. Do dog-walkers have health insurance?

  “Kat?” Lucas looks up at her, perhaps sensing her drifting.

  “Oh, sorry, honey, I was daydreaming.”

  It isn’t convenient. It isn’t going to be easy. But he’s in a new school and a new neighborhood. His mom is dead. A dog seems like a small concession.

  They get the subway uptown. Lucas grips her hand tight. Katherine is happy for him, but now she begins to worry. How will any dog be able to meet these expectations? This little boy’s happiness seems as fragile as an eggshell, or a taut, bright balloon ready to burst.

  It’s an uneventful train ride. That is to say, there are no religious freaks kissing her feet or speaking in tongues. No silver-eyed women. The train is full, crowded for the weekend. Sure enough, there’s an announcement about construction; the last leg of the journey is all local stops, anticipation building with each one. Lucas squirms in his seat and tries to get up at every stop, hope leaping in his eyes.

  “Not yet,” she says. “Almost there.”

  She tries to remember when she was this excited about anything. Meeting Sael. You were excited about that, she reminds herself. It’s no fun being an adult.

  Eventually, it’s their stop. Katherine and Lucas walk out of the subway into the sunny, chilly morning. Finally, they are at their destination, a white building with murals across its walls. Inside, the odor of disinfectant covers any real animal smell, but the cacophony of barking, whining, and yapping is nearly deafening.

  They stop by the front desk, where a plump girl with a ponytail sits. Her name tag reads kendra.

  “We’re getting a dog!” Lucas informs her.

  Kendra smiles at him. His enthusiasm is contagious.

  “That’s great,” she says. “Is it going to be your first dog?”

  He nods violently. “Yes, and it’s my birthday!”

  “That’s wonderful.” She turns to Katherine. “Got all your paperwork?”

  Katherine hands over her ID, proof of residence. She’s already filled in her preferences on the form: not a puppy but an older dog, one that needs a good home. She can totally relate. We also need a good home, me and Lucas. We’re housebroken and we don’t shed, so please, oh please, take us in.

  This is a good thing, she repeats in her head as she watches Kendra go over the paperwork. I’m doing a good thing. I’m getting an orphaned boy a dog. I’m saving a dog. Anything to make Lucas smile, to make him laugh like he used to. These are good things. Well done, me.

  So why is her skin creeping with this sense of dread?

  With the paperwork in order, the door opens and they follow Kendra down a long corridor. To death row, Katherine can’t help imagining, and then reprimands herself. Then through a series of passageways until they reach the sign that says visitors. She sees another couple looking for a dog, pausing by each one of the cages. A couple choosing their first dog together, no rings yet but surely not long now.

  Katherine feels a pang. That could have been Sael and me—the thought is unavoidable. Sael, who’s moving; Sael, who needed closure. Maybe I can train this dog to sniff out anyone who has the potential to break my heart. I can sic him on to mankind; he’ll give a piercing bark to warn me of romantic danger.

  It’s only then that she registers the total silence. No barks, no whines, no whimpers.

  Lucas realizes it too. He looks up at Kendra. “Why aren’t they barking?”

  Kendra licks her lips. “I, uh, I don’t know.”

  Their footfalls are amplified as they walk along the row of cages. Pit bulls; Labrador-like dogs, mostly short-haired; a small grimy Maltese. The other couple has disappeared. No one says anything. Dogs that only a minute ago were pacing, leaping up against their cages, are now sitting, then lying down as they pass. Heads between front paws, perfectly still, perfectly quiet.

  “Um . . .” Kendra clears her throat. She seems torn between acknowledging what is happening and denying it. She decides to push forward with the latter, her voice growing louder and falsely bright, almost maniacal, as she talks faster and faster. Like a real estate agent trying to sell a haunted house. Heck no, what poltergeist?

  “So we’re going to check out Lucy. Lucy is a sweet white pit bull. Now I know pit bulls get a bad rap, but the good ones, well, Lucy is the best, aren’t you, sweetheart? We’ve only known her to be gentle
with other dogs, and she loves people.”

  Please bark, Katherine prays as they approach the cage. Please just bark like a normal dog. But Lucy doesn’t make a sound. As they approach, she scrabbles back into the corner of her cage. Her head wags from side to side, then goes down between her paws. She cowers, desperate.

  “Lucy,” Kendra calls, her voice echoing in the terrible silence. “Lucy, come on, girl.” Then she’s in the cage, trying to pull Lucy out. “Lucy, come on, girl. Lucy, what’s going on?”

  “What’s the matter with her?” It’s the guy from the couple. They have stopped looking at dogs to stare at Lucy as she scrabbles away from Kendra and Katherine and Lucas.

  Kendra doesn’t answer him, only keeps on at Lucy, trying to get her to come out. It’s no use. Lucy whimpers and crouches. Finally, Kendra wipes her face with the back of her arm.

  “I guess Lucy is having a bad day,” she says, her voice flat. Then she straightens up and tries to smile. “Well, there are other candidates for you.”

  She and Lucas back up, and it seems to Katherine that Lucy relaxes a little. The farther away they get, the happier Lucy will be. Meanwhile, every sound is magnified. The guy breathing through his nose, his girlfriend chewing her gum. It makes Katherine want to slap them both.

  Lucas tugs at her arm. “Kat, why aren’t they barking?”

  Now the girlfriend is whispering something to her boyfriend, who’s unabashedly staring at Katherine and Lucas.

  “I don’t know, honey. Maybe they just feel like being quiet?”

  Kendra turns to Katherine. “I’ve never seen this before. Are you wearing something? Some pheromone perfume or whatever?” She sounds angry.

  Not angry, Katherine suddenly realizes, she’s frightened. “No, apart from my normal deodorant, nothing.”

  The walk is endless, but they finally arrive at the last cage to the right. The nameplate on the front says boris.

  Kendra clears her throat. “This is Boris. Boris is a three-year-old, a Catahoula leopard dog mix,” she recites.

  The three of them look down into the cage, down into Boris’s fuzzy, brown face. Please don’t open the door, please just let him be. But Kendra is already bending down. Katherine hears the seams of Kendra’s jeans creak as she kneels, the harsh jangle of her key chain, her heavy breathing.

  A film of sweat forms on Kendra’s upper lip. “Come on, Boris,” she breathes. “Come on, boy.”

  Boris retreats to the back of his cage, trembling.

  “Come on, Boris, be a good boy.”

  “Holy shit,” someone says behind them, “that dog is fucking terrified.”

  Katherine turns around. It’s the guy from the couple, both of whom are riveted. Her stomach sinks further.

  Kendra is dragging Boris out by the collar. He is curled into a small, miserable ball of rigid muscle. She seems baffled.

  “I don’t understand it. I’ve never seen him behave like this.”

  “I gotta record this! This shit is unbelievable.” The girlfriend is holding up her phone.

  Please, Katherine tries to say, but her tongue flaps like a piece of rope.

  “Hey!” Kendra looks up. “You’re not allowed to record anything here.”

  The woman takes no notice.

  Lucas bends down and tentatively puts out one hand. “Boris?”

  “Excuse me, miss!” Kendra is trying to get authority back, and is building up steam. “You’re going to need to put that away.”

  The woman swings her phone around to focus on Lucas, crouching by Boris’s side.

  “Miss!” Kendra’s tone is sharper. “I’m only going to tell you one more time to stop that. Recording is strictly prohibited on the premises.”

  “This is fucking crazy shit,” her boyfriend mutters, transfixed. “Like exorcist shit.”

  Lucas’s head is close to Boris’s, he’s speaking quietly.

  “Hey, Boris.” His voice is soft and sweet. “What’s wrong, boy? Tell me.” He cocks his ear to Boris’s muzzle, as if he is waiting for the dog to answer.

  “That’s it!” Kendra explodes, “I’m getting my supervisor. Hold on for a moment,” she says to Katherine and Lucas before turning and almost running back up the corridor.

  Katherine looks again at the couple, the woman still engrossed in filming Lucas. There’s a harsh drone of wasps in her ears. Rage fills her like black smoke, and her voice erupts from somewhere deep within her.

  “Leave him alone!”

  Suddenly the girl squints at her phone, pressing a button.

  “Shit,” she hisses to her boyfriend. “My phone just died! Try yours.”

  The guy pulls his phone from his back pocket, then frowns. “Mine’s dead too. I just charged it this morning!”

  They gape at their lifeless devices, at each other.

  Katherine turns her attention back to Lucas, who is still whispering to Boris. Then he looks up, a strange detached, expression upon his face. Icicles slide down her spine. She tries to swallow but her throat is filled with glass and stones.

  “Lucas? Honey?”

  His gaze, so alien a moment before, now clears. He becomes himself again.

  Thank God for that at least, she thinks.

  “We have to go,” he mutters, and slowly he gets to his feet.

  She wonders if they can just leave Boris there, coiled up and quivering, but she doesn’t think they’ll be able to move him without distressing him further. She senses that, as with Lucy, the farther away they get from the dogs, the happier they’ll be.

  “We have to go!” Lucas is more urgent now.

  Her stomach roils and heaves. She wipes her forehead with the back of her hand. Forget about the dogs—the sooner we leave, the happier I’ll be.

  “Okay.” She holds out her hand. “Let’s go.”

  Lucas stands. His expression is both sorrowful and resigned. He is far too young to wear it. He takes her hand and turns to the small unhappy animal.

  “Bye, Boris,” he says.

  They retreat up the row, pushing past the couple, who are now bickering, their frustration with their phones turned on each other. Katherine tries not to look at them. Then she sees Kendra and a thin, frowning woman with short spiky hair coming toward them.

  “What’s going on here?” The spiky-haired woman, presumably Kendra’s supervisor, is pissed and ready to unleash hell on anyone.

  “It’s not them.” Kendra says. “It’s those other two, through there.”

  The shock of relief is so strong, that Katherine’s knees almost give way. Kendra isn’t going to mention the strange behavior of the dogs.

  The woman nods and moves on toward the couple.

  Katherine lays her hand on Kendra’s arm.

  Kendra flinches.

  Katherine swallows. “I think it’s best that we try this at another time.”

  “Yeah.” Kendra is blanched. “Perhaps that’s for the best.”

  “We can always come back.” Katherine knows that they will never come back.

  “Maybe that’s better. I’m sorry, I don’t understand it.”

  Katherine attempts a smile. “I’ll remember to use a different perfume.”

  “I’m sorry,” Kendra says to Lucas. Her regret appears genuine.

  Tears prick at Katherine’s eyes. “Me too,” she whispers.

  “Take care,” Kendra tells them, but this isn’t just an automatic dismissal.

  It feels like a warning.

  Katherine hears it as they exit, an exuberant howling. Then they’re outside in the cold sunshine of a September day, where the rest of the world is carrying on around them as if nothing has happened.

  “Honey?”

  Lucas rears away.

  “Lucas?”

  He still won’t look at her.

  “Lucas, talk to me. We promised each other we would use our words.”

  He mutters something inaudible.

  Katherine crouches down. “What was that?”

  “He was scared.
” Lucas’s tone is reluctant. He still won’t look at her.

  “Who was scared? You were scared?”

  “Boris. Boris was scared.”

  “He did seem scared,” Katherine admits, though she’s aware that’s an understatement. He seemed terrified. “Do you know what he was scared of?”

  “He told me.”

  “He told you? What was he scared of?”

  Lucas shakes his head.

  She’s on the edge of something crucial. She presses him. “Lucas, you can tell me. What was he scared of?”

  He mumbles something, but she’s unsure whether she’s heard him correctly. “Me?”

  A nod.

  The dogs were scared of her. The horror of it knocks her back, winds her, leaves her breathless. How can it be? It can’t be, can it? “Oh, sweetheart.” A wave of helplessness washes over her. It’s impossible, it’s unfair, but Lucas believes it. Maybe it’s better that he does. At least he can blame me, blame someone. At least there’s some control in this scenario.

  “I’m so sorry, Lucas.” And Katherine is sorry. She’s sorry Andrea is dead, and she’s sorry that those other women are dead too. She’s sorry that Sael doesn’t love her anymore. She is sorry, sorry, sorry.

  He scuffs his shoe furiously in the dirt.

  “Come on,” she says, and gathers him into her arms. “Come on, it’s okay.” Even though it’s not okay, and it never will be okay.

  Eventually, the tears come. Katherine hasn’t seen Lucas cry like this before. It’s something she’s spoken about with the child psychologist. Is he holding all his emotions back? Will it turn into anger? Is this normal?

  But how could anyone handle this kind of grief? He’s only five today. He weeps and weeps. She cries too. The city streams around them, the sun is still shining, but they are under their own cloud of sadness and there is nothing to do but cry until—

  “Katherine?”

  Sael is standing in front of her. How did he get here? Is this even his neighborhood? She isn’t sure if he moved or not. He’s in tracksuit pants, a sweatshirt. He must have come from a fitness class. Katherine remembers that he used to like something to do with riding stationary bikes in a darkened room to hard-core music, but she can’t think of the name. There must be a studio around here.