All the Major Constellations

by Pratima Cranse

  “Sure,” Andrew said. John and Laura were absorbed in their discussion. As he turned to go, he thought he glimpsed John’s hand on Laura’s knee.

  He marched up the stairs, furious with himself, with Laura, and with John. How could he possibly compete with John? He reached the back door of the church and thrust it open. He took his Bible out of his pocket and glared at it, intending to toss it into the field.

  “What am I doing?” he shouted at the book.

  “What indeed?” said a voice to his left.

  He turned, expecting weirdo Chip, and was nearly ready to punch him, but it was Seth who emerged from the shadows. Andrew glared at him and said nothing.

  He got in his car and drove to his house to check on his mom. No one was home.

  26

  ON THURSDAY HIS MOM CALLED him at work. It was lunchtime. They were all huddled around the picnic tables when Neal came out of the office and told him she was on the phone.

  “You should come home,” she said.

  “It’s only been three days.”

  “Things are fine. Everyone feels bad about what happened.”

  “Please. What’s really going on?”

  She sighed. Andrew could picture her furrowing her brow and tapping her foot. “Reporters are sniffing around. It would look better if we were together as a family.”

  “Whatever,” Andrew said. He hung up.

  When he came out of the office, he was met with some curious gazes. Most of the week Neal had him trimming bushes by himself or mowing lawns with Ben, but he’d had to fend off some questions about Brian at the lunch hour. The old-timers were polite. Andrew admired their old-school everyone-should-mind-their-own-damn-business New Englander ethos. But they were a dying breed. The younger guys all wanted to know about the case.

  “You okay?” Cory said to him.

  “I’m fine,” Andrew said. He sat back down and started to eat.

  “Was that your brother? Or a reporter?” he pressed. Cory fiddled with his water bottle. “I heard that it was these other guys and that Brian wasn’t even involved,” he said.

  Another college kid, Ted something, Andrew didn’t know him too well, sat down next to him and Cory.

  “If you ask me,” Ted said loudly, “it’s all bullshit.”

  Andrew swallowed. “What’s all bullshit?”

  “You know, the case. You know,” Ted said with affected nonchalance. It was like he wanted to bond over it or something. It infuriated Andrew.

  “I don’t know. Why don’t you tell me?” Andrew said. He stood up.

  “Simmer down,” said Neal.

  “I think Ted’s just saying that we all support you,” Cory said.

  “Well, that’s fucking ridiculous,” Andrew said. “I have nothing to do with it.” He packed up his sandwich and walked into the office. He grabbed his Bible and stared at it. Cory knocked on the door and opened it at the same time.

  “What?” Andrew said.

  “Sorry about that. Ted’s an ass,” Cory said. “Hey, what are you reading?”

  “The word of God. Why do you ask?”

  “Oh.”

  Cory stood in the doorway, looking at him with a concerned expression on his face. Cory was like an actor who couldn’t figure out his role. A bros-before-hoes type, a college intellectual, a blue-collar worker, a peacemaker nice guy—nothing fit. He was just trying his best.

  “Forget it,” Andrew said. “Sorry, I’m being a prick.”

  “No, man, that’s cool. I used to go to church.”

  “Really?”

  “Yeah.” Cory came into the office and sat down at Neal’s desk.

  “Which church?” Andrew asked.

  “Saint Mary’s. Catholic.”

  “Do you still go?”

  “Noooo,” Cory said. He leaned back in the chair and stared up at the ceiling. “I don’t believe in God.”

  “I guess I’m on the fence. I don’t know.”

  “So what gives?”

  “It’s complicated. There’s this girl.”

  “Cherchez la femme,” Cory said.

  “Huh?”

  “It’s French for ‘look for the woman.’ When the shit hits the fan, when you’re trying to figure out a mystery, or explain some inexplicable behavior, cherchez la femme.”

  Neal poked his head in the door. “Back to work. And get your ass out of my chair,” he said. Cory leaped up.

  “I like that cherchez thing,” Andrew said as they went back outside.

  “French is full of stuff like that,” Cory said. “Perfect phrases.”

  “Kinda sexist,” said Andrew.

  “So is the Bible,” Cory said.

  • • •

  No one was home when he arrived. Maybe they’d planned it that way; maybe nobody cared. Becky, at least, was glad to be back. She jumped around the kitchen and sat in the place where he usually put her food bowl.

  The answering machine was blinking. There were two messages from reporters, one message from his mother telling him not to talk to reporters, and a message from John, simply asking him to call back.

  John. Andrew was both jealous and wary of John. He also felt sorry for him, and he wasn’t entirely sure what inspired that feeling. But John was an avenue to Laura. He picked up on the second ring.

  “I got your number from Matt. That’s cool, right?”

  “Yeah. Of course. What’s up?”

  “I just wanted to see how you’re feeling.”

  “I’m fine.” Andrew tried to relax. Why was he being such a jerk? “I’ve got to wash your shirt.”

  “Don’t worry about it. Keep it.”

  “Um, okay.”

  “Anyway, I’m planning a hike,” John said.

  “Who’s going?” Andrew said.

  “Me and Matt, a few others. I’m still trying to put it all together.”

  Andrew thought, if Laura was going, John would have said so. But he didn’t want to ask directly about her. “I kind of have a lot going on right now. And I’ve got work tomorrow.”

  “The hike’s not tomorrow. I was thinking Sunday.”

  “Sunday? Don’t you have church?”

  “God is everywhere. Besides, it’s a sunrise hike.”

  “A what?”

  “We time it so that the sun hits when we’re at the top of the mountain.”

  Andrew thought for a moment. It actually sounded kind of nice. And Laura would probably be there, right? If she wasn’t, he could at least further ingratiate himself with her friends.

  “Which mountain?” he asked.

  “Darren. Well-marked trail. Easy climb.”

  “Can I bring my dog?”

  “Definitely.”

  “Okay,” Andrew said.

  “Okay?”

  “Yup.”

  “Awesome. We’ll meet at Matt’s house. Three thirty a.m.,” John said.

  “Should I bring my car?” Andrew recalled that Darren Mountain was a couple of towns over.

  “I think we have enough cars. You can ride with me,” John said, then added, “I’ll pick you up.”

  “I might need my car for an emergency.” Something about John’s tone was bothering him. Besides, if Laura came, he might be able to drive her and have Becky take up the backseat so they could be alone.

  “That’s cool,” John said.

  A sunrise hike on a Sunday morning with a bunch of fundamentalist Christian kids. What was he getting himself into? He double-checked the answering machine and scanned the counter for notes—Marcia had apparently not called. Andrew was determined to get in touch with her. He hadn’t spoken to her in almost a week, and he wanted to, badly. Marcia was Reason. Marcia was Science. Despite the spiritual distress she suffered from her father’s death, her mother’s illness, ev
en Sara’s accident, Andrew had no doubt that Marcia saw the forest through the trees. She was not, inherently, on the side of faith. She might envy those who had it, but it was simply not hers to have. He needed that kind of clarity. When the phone rang, he sprang up, almost, but not quite, wanting it to be Marcia over anyone else, even Laura.

  “This is Glenn from the Journal. Is this Andrew Genter?” The man’s voice was silky and deep.

  “Shit,” Andrew said, and hung up.

  A reporter calling and asking for him by name. What the fuck was that about? The phone rang again. He let the answering machine pick up.

  “Listen, Andrew, we just wanted to get your side of the story—”

  Andrew picked up the phone. “Leave me alone. It has nothing to do with me.”

  “What doesn’t?”

  Andrew hung up again. This time the reporter didn’t call back. He heard a car pull into the driveway. His first thought was to go upstairs to his room, but he decided to stay. The status quo needed to be reestablished. Might as well get it over with. Andrew knew how to walk away from a fight. The other night had been an aberration on his part; Brian had behaved exactly as was expected. I control this, he said to himself.

  Brian walked in the door. “Hey,” he said.

  “What’s up?” Andrew said.

  “Where have you been?” he asked.

  “Seriously? Mom didn’t tell you?”

  “No.”

  “Well, then, I won’t either.”

  “Fuck you, man.”

  “Whatever.”

  Brian went into the living room and turned on the TV. He was quiet, which was weird. Usually he yelled at the players or the sportscasters. Andrew had the uncanny feeling that Brian was listening to him, just as he was listening to Brian. He grabbed the phone to call Marcia.

  “Who are you calling?” Brian said.

  “I’ve to check on Sara,” Andrew said. “You know, the hot one,” he added.

  “The lawyer is going to call any second. Stay the fuck off the phone.”

  Andrew thought for a minute. He did not want to get hit again. I control this. Eighteen and out. He put the phone down, leashed Becky, and left.

  He and Becky walked around the neighborhood slowly. He thought about visiting Laura. One of her little siblings was bound to like dogs. But he was tired, having spent the second half of the day mixing cement with Cheeve. He also didn’t feel like getting all caught up with the weight of seeing her. The agonizing crush of desire he felt when he was with her was somehow made worse, even more intolerable, now that he was closer to her. He also felt somewhat unwelcome at her house. He played the cozy little scene between her and John over and over in his head. She admired John; she respected John. And John was tall and cut and good-looking. Better-looking than Pretty Boy Matt or Goatee Seth or balding Chip. Certainly better-looking than he was. He kicked a rock into the grass.

  Becky woofed softly and leaned into his legs. He stumbled and caught himself. He sat on the ground and petted her for a while. Becky occasionally leaned on his legs as if to trip him. Her veterinarian said it was either a gesture of affection or a way of showing dominance. Which is it? Andrew had asked. Both, the vet said with a shrug. They’re fundamentally different from us, Andrew. You can’t always equate animal behavior with human behavior. It doesn’t work like that. But despite the advice, he tried to understand Becky through the lens of human emotion. I love you so much that I’m going to dominate you, trip you, get the better of you. It made perfect sense, he thought.

  When Andrew got back, he saw a bunch of cars in his driveway and decided that Brian must have a crew of friends over. He could hear them in the living room as he fed Becky in the kitchen.

  “Don’t worry about it, man. It’s going to be all right.”

  “You don’t know that,” Brian said. His voice sounded weak, hollow.

  “You didn’t do anything, right? It’ll be okay.”

  Must have been bad news from the lawyer, Andrew thought.

  “I heard the door. Ty coming over?”

  “No. It’s just my brother.”

  “Little Andrew? Hey, buddy, get us some chips!” the voice commanded. Andrew wasn’t even sure who it was; all of Brian’s friends seemed interchangeable to him.

  “Leave him alone,” Brian said.

  “But—”

  “Just leave him alone. Let’s get out of here. I’ll drive.”

  Andrew was startled by Brian’s command to leave him alone. He must feel guilty as hell, Andrew thought. He must actually be guilty. His stomach lurched with a feeling he could not identify. He quickly crept up the stairs. His mother was sitting on her bed with the door open. They exchanged the briefest of glances before he went into his own room and closed the door. He heard her walk downstairs. He thought she might be weeping. Should I go to her? What for? He blinked tears out of his eyes and fished his Bible out from under a pile of clothes. He held it to his chest, trying to call up that feeling of comfort it had given him when he’d spent his first night in Neal’s office. It no longer seemed sacred; it had lost something. Or he had lost something.

  27

  ANDREW WALKED ALONG THE BEACH with bare feet. The sand felt icy and gritty between his toes. When he stopped and tried to get the grains out, he found they were impacted and had formed a kind of webbing. Disgusted, he reached for the chisel in his pocket, the one that Neal had given him, but it was gone. A yellowish moon rose high above him, casting silver and gold light along the length of the beach. He looked back and forth and saw that the shoreline was endless and the ocean was dry. He wasn’t on the beach; he was in a desert. And he was alone. Alone, alone, alone.

  Andrew awoke to the painful sound of the alarm clock. It made an angry beeping noise that he was not accustomed to. He usually woke up a few minutes before it went off to avoid the sound.

  It was three a.m. Becky did not stir as he left the room to shower. The swelling in his face was almost completely gone. After he’d showered, dressed, and changed his shirt at least three times, Andrew went down to the kitchen and quickly drank a cup of coffee. He glanced at the clock and saw that he had to leave in five minutes.

  “Becky, get up,” he called.

  Becky trotted down the stairs and gave him a look of irritation that made Andrew laugh. He fed her, grabbed his jacket, and stuffed some dog treats and his Bible into his pockets. After he got in the car, he realized that he’d forgotten to look for a flashlight. Screw it, he thought. There were bound to be extra flashlights, and he didn’t want to be late picking up Laura.

  Getting to drive Laura was a major coup. He had finally gotten her on the phone yesterday afternoon and casually mentioned that he had lost the directions to Matt’s house. She had come up with the idea of Andrew picking her up—that way she could simply direct him to Matt’s house. John was going to drive her, she’d said, but Andrew lived closer. “Makes sense,” Andrew had said.

  It was dark and cool at this hour of the morning. The air felt cleaner, too, as if the sky and even the air had been washed overnight. He looked up at the pale light of the moon and thought of Laura. He had set goals for himself; he had even written them down in his journal. No matter what, by week’s end, he would kiss her.

  Laura was waiting on the steps when he pulled up to her house. She was dazzling, even at this hour. She gave him a bright-eyed smile as she stood. She looked very young, he thought, as he studied her face and her huge blue eyes. But at second glance he saw that her T-shirt was very tight across her breasts. Make eye contact, he told himself. No glancing down. Don’t be a jackass about her tits.

  “Morning,” she said. She got into the car and reached into the backseat to pet Becky.

  “What’s up?” Andrew said. He pulled away from the curb and drove down the street. She did not have a jacket. “Aren’t you cold?”

  “A little. But
I get hot when I hike, and I don’t like carrying a jacket around,” she said.

  “You could’ve left it in my car. Should we go back?”

  “No, it’s all right. I don’t want to be late.”

  Andrew stopped the car. “Just wear my jacket.” He fumbled as he took it off. Laura began to protest, but Andrew insisted.

  “Thanks,” she said. She put the jacket on. It was way too big for her. She looked cute.

  “This should be fun,” Andrew said.

  “You seem to know what you’re doing,” she said.

  “What?”

  “Matt’s house.”

  Andrew realized that he was driving to Matt’s house without any further instruction from her.

  “Oh. I kind of remember the first part of the way.”

  Laura smiled. As their eyes met, Andrew knew he looked sheepish.

  They reached Matt’s house, Laura casually offering directions along the way. John was waiting on the steps of the porch when they arrived. The porch lights cast a slight glow on the sidewalk. John stood up and came toward them when Andrew and Laura got out of the car. She and John hugged each other while Andrew tried to look indifferent.

  “Where is everyone?” Laura asked.

  “David and Matt are in the house with Karen. Josh and Susie should be here any minute. This is kind of big for you,” John said, fingering the collar of Andrew’s jacket.

  “It’s Andrew’s,” Laura said. “I was cold.”

  With his torn jeans and bright orange tank top, John looked even more like a surfer dude than before, if that were possible. John reached out to shake Andrew’s hand but then pulled him into a backslapping man hug. It was awkward, and Andrew’s face was briefly pressed against the gigantic blue cross tattoo on John’s arm. Laura disappeared into the house, leaving John and Andrew to their own devices.

  “About the other night . . .” John began.

  “Which one?” Andrew said.

  “Um, in your car,” John said.

  “I’m glad we got to talk,” Andrew said.

  “Yeah,” John said. He looked as if he wanted to say more, but he didn’t.

  “Carrie coming?” Andrew asked.