Every Soul a Star

by Wendy Mass

  “Our data turned out to be right! They verified the planet! We’re going to be in some science journal, all of us.”

  His face lights up. “That’s great! How’d you find out? Is Mr. Silver back?”

  I shake my head. “I don’t think so. But he called or something.”

  “That’s really great,” he says. “Thanks for telling me. Does Ally know?”

  “I think so.”

  “Good,” he says, mostly to himself.

  I see my parents coming around the bend and say, “I’ve gotta go, but I’ll see you at the eclipse later. Ally’s family reserved a spot for all of us.”

  “I’m not sure I’m going,” he says softly.

  I turn back around. “You’re not going where?”

  “The eclipse. I’m not sure I’m going to watch it.”

  Sure that I must still be hearing him wrong, I say, “Huh? What are you talking about?”

  “I’m just not that into it. Don’t tell Ally, okay? I don’t want her to worry about anything today.”

  “But it’s okay if I worry?”

  “I think you can handle it.”

  “But why would you miss it? Isn’t that why you came here?”

  He shakes his head. “I came here to get out of summer school.”

  “Oh. But still. The way Ally talks about it, well, are you sure you want to miss it?”

  “I have my reasons, okay? Just don’t tell anyone. I’ll see you when it’s over.”

  I narrow my eyes at him. “You know, Jack, the eclipse is going to happen whether or not you’re there to watch it.”

  He shrugs. “It doesn’t matter.”

  “I think it does matter. Believe me, I know how fast everything’s going to go afterward. Everyone��s going to leave, including Ally and her family, and it will just be me, Mel, and our parents. It’s enough to freeze my blood.”

  He doesn’t say anything, just kicks up some dust and pebbles with his toe.

  I glance over at my parents, who are almost upon us. I really want to talk to them about Claire’s letter. “Well, if you change your mind we’ll be right next to the podium with the microphone on it.”

  “Thanks,” he says, glancing toward the big field. It’s already starting to fill with people.

  My parents are next to us now. Jack says a quick hello and then takes off in the opposite direction of the field.

  Dad takes my hand and swings my arm like he used to when I was little. “Are you excited, honey?”

  “Um, sure, Dad.” I’m very aware of the letter from Claire sticking out of my front pocket.

  “We’d like to invite the Summers to stay here next August for the Star Party, what do you think of that idea?”

  “What’s a Star Party?” I get a crazy picture in my mind of flaming balls of gas dancing the night away. Two weeks ago I would have been sure he was talking about movie stars.

  “It’s a big event the campground holds each August during the Perseid meteor shower. People bring their telescopes and camp out.”

  “So sort of like this?” I wave my arm around at the rows of people heading toward the field, carrying telescopes or wheeling them in wagons.

  Mom laughs. “Not quite this many people.”

  “Not nearly,” Dad adds.

  “I think it would be great if Ally’s family came back next summer. In fact . . .” I’m about to suggest Ally stay this summer in my place, but instead I push the note farther down in my pocket. I don’t want to argue with them. Not today.

  I arrive at the field with about forty-five minutes to go. Apparently we have to wait through a whole partial eclipse before the total eclipse, which is what everyone came for. If I had been warned I’d have to stand there for an hour before the main event, I’d have found something else to do. But I’m here now so I might as well make the best of it. That seems to be the story of my life lately.

  I head for the podium, snaking through a sea of people with telescopes and video cameras and lawn chairs. Some are totally manic, jumping around, testing and retesting their equipment. And some are totally mellow, lounging on their chairs and drinking from plastic cups. I hear snippets of foreign languages and I look around for Bellana, the woman from the labyrinth, but I don’t see her. I hope she’s drinking a lot of water to keep hydrated under that robe. At one point I stop and buy a key chain for Claire from a woman wearing a hat in the shape of a big stuffed sun.

  A throbbing sort of noise suddenly fills the air. It sounds like it’s coming from the speakers. I figure Mr. Summers must be testing the sound system. But it’s not stopping. Just this rhythmic pulsing sort of thing. Almost, but not quite, like a really annoying heartbeat.

  I see Ally’s bright yellow shirt a few feet ahead of me and stop her. “What’s that horrible noise?” I shout.

  She laughs and claims that it’s a recording of the sun. She doesn’t seem to be kidding, either. I reach for my iPod to blot out the sound, but figure what the heck, how often does someone get to hear the sun?

  I follow Ally back to our area. The rest of my family is there already. Melanie is leading them in that sunny sky dance of hers. That woman Stella is here with Ryan’s grandfather. I overhear Ally ask Stella if she’s seen Jack. My mind races for a response in case she asks me too, since I had promised Jack I wouldn’t tell. But she doesn’t ask. Stella asks me about the labyrinth again. There’s no way I can tell her I’ve tried twice more but couldn’t do it. I just shake my head. She smiles and squeezes my hand as she goes back to join the others. For some reason that makes me feel a little better.

  Mom hands me the glasses right as Ally’s dad starts talking. They’re flimsy paper things with shiny silver lenses. These are supposed to protect me from going blind? Ally is in a state of frenzy next to me. She probably doesn’t even realize it, but she’s sort of buzzing. I put the glasses on as the countdown begins. The sky looks totally normal. Well, the sun is a little orange-ish from the glasses, but isn’t the moon supposed to be there, too? How else can it cover the sun? This is all very confusing. Then everyone shouts, “One!” And a few seconds later, out of nowhere, a black dot appears on the right side of the sun. This takes me utterly by surprise. Then the blackness grows slightly bigger and longer until it forms a crescent shape, like the sliver of moon I saw in the telescope. Except the rest of the moon is still invisible, and this crescent is black, instead of white. I can’t tear my eyes away from the sun. It’s disappearing right before my eyes. Ally asks me something, but I have no idea what she says.

  I stand still and watch, turning away only briefly. As the moon creeps farther across the sun, the trees and grass turn a metallic color. It’s like the life and color is being sucked right out of the world. Mom or Dad or Melanie comes to talk to me and I almost can’t bear to look at them. The shadows on their faces are really strange and almost scary. I shiver, and not only because it’s noticeably colder. Everything is a little scary, actually, and my heart is beating faster than when I ran all the way to Claire’s. I feel something warm and soft over my shoulders and look down to find Stella’s red scarf draped over me. Her eyes meet mine and she mouths, “Keep it.”

  I smile gratefully and turn back to the sky. The sun is almost completely gone now, leaving a deep blue-black sky behind. All around the far horizon I can see a yellow-orange glow where the eclipse doesn’t reach. It’s like a huge circle of sunset. Ally’s back now. I glance over at her. She’s in a daze, just staring, frozen. I almost laugh, hoping I don’t look like that, too. I take a quick look out at the crowd, just in time to see a huge wall of darkness push toward us from the direction of the sun. “The moon’s shadow!” I hear Ryan shout. “Here it comes!” It zooms through us like a wall of ghosts, faster than I’ve ever seen anything move. It’s exhilarating and terrifying at the same time.

  And then a few seconds later the sun completely disappears, leaving a hole in the sky. I feel its loss in the pit of my stomach. I hear myself scream in-voluntarily, but it gets lost among a t
housand other screams.

  And as streams of light fan out behind the darkened sun like the wings of a butterfly, I realize that I never saw real beauty until now. And one thought fills my head:

  If this could be repeated every day for a year, I would never budge from where I stood.

  JACK

  7

  I stuff my backpack with a flashlight, my sketchbook, two novels, a sweatshirt, and some bread and apples I took from breakfast. The conversation this morning was obviously all about the eclipse. People were comparing notes on how much totality they’d seen in their life, and how far they had to travel to see it. David invited me to a pre-eclipse party at their cabin, but I mumbled something incoherent and left as quickly as I could.

  I had hoped Mr. Silver would be back by now. There are only a few hours to go before the eclipse. I had almost forgotten he had asked me to distribute the glasses.

  I consider bringing a blanket with me, but those sleeping bags should still be in the shed so I’ll have something to sit on besides the concrete floor. I guess I could just stay here in the cabin and close the shades, but if anyone came looking for me they’d try here first. Better to stick with my original plan. I start to zip up the backpack and, as an afterthought, toss in my Game Boy and extra batteries.

  I figure this is the best time to go, while everyone is racing about. Easier to get lost in the crowd. I have to admit, I’ve really enjoyed not being lost in the crowd. That’s why I have to do this. I take a last scan of the cabin and head out. I haven’t gotten five yards from my door when I run smack into Bree. Before I can stop myself, I’ve told her I’m not going to the eclipse. When she’s done reading me the riot act, as much as I hate to admit it, I know she’s right. And what would Mr. Silver say when he found out I didn’t see it after all this buildup? I’d feel so stupid. With a sigh loud enough to make the family ahead of me turn around, I changed direction. I’ve got a party to get to.

  When I arrive, I see the partygoers have spilled out of the cabin onto David and Hayley’s porch. David sees me and clasps my shoulder. My backpack slips off my arm and crashes to the floor. “Hey, what ya got in there? You planning on camping out at the eclipse? You know it’s in the middle of the day, right?”

  “Hey, you can never be too prepared. Boy Scout motto.” He laughs and heads off to refill the chips bowl. I slide the backpack against the wall so no one trips on it. I plop down on the top stair and before I know it, someone has stuck a soda in my hand. I turn around to see that it’s Pete.

  “Thanks,” I say, taking a big sip.

  He nods, but something’s not quite right. His eyes are darting around a lot, almost like he’s scared.

  “Hey, are you okay?”

  He nods, but too quickly. I pat the spot next to me. He sits down. “What’s going on?” I ask.

  In a low whisper, he says, “I’m scared. And there’s all these people around.”

  “Do you want to go for a walk? We can talk where it’s quiet.”

  He nods. I tell him to wait there while I go ask his parents if it’s okay. When I find Hayley she seems relieved that I’m willing to watch Pete for a while. We agree that I’ll bring him to the field before the eclipse, and we pick a place to meet. That gives me about a half hour to make Pete feel better. I grab my backpack and Pete and I head toward my original destination.

  As I’d hoped, very few people are up on the hilltop, and those who are here are busy setting up all their equipment. The hilltop’s been designated as a “flash friendly” zone, which means that up here people can take pictures with flashes, and set up lights with their video cameras, but down in the field they do so at their own peril. During totality, the people around them will be very angry since it will ruin precious seconds of their night vision. It’s still early yet, but I don’t think I’ll be sharing my hilltop with many people.

  Pete and I sit on the edge of the hill, watching all the activity below. We can hear the noise, but it’s faint and muffled. Pete had been quiet on the way up, but now I ask, “Why are you scared?”

  He shrugs. “I like the sun. I don’t want it to go away.”

  “But it will be right back. You know that, right?”

  He shrugs again. “How can you be sure?”

  I think on that for a minute. I really CAN’T be sure, I guess. “I promise you, it will come back.”

  He smiles tentatively and says, “Okay, if you promise.”

  I unzip my bag and hand him my Game Boy. It always relaxes me. I take out my sketchbook and start drawing. Every now and then the shouts from below get louder, but I figure we have a few more minutes before it’s time to meet Pete’s parents.

  “I think this is broken,” Pete says after a while. “I can’t see the screen anymore.” He hands me the Game Boy. The screen is very dim. Then I realize with a sickening feeling that it’s not the screen that’s dim, it’s everything else. I jump up. “How long have we been sitting here?”

  Pete shakes his head.

  “We’ve gotta go!” I shove everything back into my bag and then pull the pair of paper eclipse glasses out of my back pocket. “Here, put these on.” I hand Pete the glasses. He has to hold onto them with one hand to keep them from slipping off. I grab his other hand. Together we stumble into the weird mustard-colored twilight. I risk a quick peek at the sun. The moon— black instead of white—is covering about three-quarters of it now. I force myself to focus on the ground as we slip and slide down the hill, not willing to go around to the path on the other side and use up more time.

  We reach a grove of trees and stop for a second to stare at the tiny shadows on the grass beneath us. Streaming through the gaps in the leaves are hundreds, no thousands, of mini partially eclipsed suns. It’s the coolest thing I’ve ever seen, and I’ve seen Saturn. Pete kneels down to touch them. I could watch the whole eclipse this way. But I don’t want to. I want to watch it with Ally, in the field. With effort, we turn away and keep going. Pete is starting to breathe heavy, so I offer to carry him. He puts his arms up with no hesitation. I’m down the hill now, and running as fast as I’ve ever run, especially with a forty-pound kid in my arms and an overpacked backpack on my shoulder. Then a buzzing on my belt stops me short again. Out of habit I’d put my walkie-talkie on. The only person who had access to its mate is Mr. Silver. I put Pete down, grab it, fumble for the right button, and shout, “Hello? Hello?”

  A very crackly voice comes through. “Where are ya, Jack?”

  “Hang on! I’m coming!” The field is about a hundred yards away now. It’s getting darker by the second. “Are you back?”

  “I’m back!” he shouts. “You did it! You tracked that planet!”

  It’s easier to hear him suddenly because a hush has fallen over the field.

  “I know!” I shout back.

  “I’ll be expecting a lot more from you in class next year.”

  I laugh and stick the walkie-talkie back on my belt. It’s a good thing I’ve been running each day with Ryan because I’d be dead by now otherwise. The landscape around us has turned a strange metallic silver. Gone are the blues and greens—even the red of my t-shirt. I feel like we’ve stumbled onto some whole other planet. Pete’s turning around in circles and pointing at the ground.

  “Look! My shadow. It’s gone!”

  His eyes are wide with fright. I twist around to look at the ground beneath me. He’s right. There’s enough light that we should still be able to see our shadows. I’m sure there’s some obvious scientific reason for this, but I feel a little deserted. If my walkie-talkie hadn’t worked just now, I’d think I was dreaming.

  “Don’t worry, Pete,” I tell him, scooping him back up. “It’ll come back as soon as the sun does.”

  I run across the road to the edge of the field as Pete’s thin voice says, “Promise?”

  “Have I been wrong yet?”

  He turns his head to look at me skeptically. Then he looks around at the crowd. “There they are!”

  Sure enou
gh, David and Hayley are running toward us, relief flooding their faces. Pete scrambles to get down and runs over to grab his mom’s leg.

  “Our shadows went away, but they’ll be back!” he announces. “And we saw tiny suns on the ground!”

  I don’t wait around to explain. Time’s ticking away. With a quick goodbye, I race toward the podium. It quickly dawns on me as I watch everyone staring up that I gave Pete my only pair of glasses. Fortu-nately, a few feet away is a booth selling merchan-dise. I hastily grab the last pair of eclipse glasses from the tabletop and fish around in my pockets for money.

  “No worries, man, just take it,” the guy behind the booth says. I wave my thanks and put them on my face just in time to hear people around me yell, “There they are! The shadow bands!” I look up, but don’t see anything other than the small chunk that’s left of the sun. Then I see a crowd of people running over to look at something on the ground behind me. I turn to see a pattern of dark and light bands rippling across white poster boards. It’s mesmerizing. Where are they coming from? I have to force myself to keep moving. I keep my eyes on the podium, trying hard not to knock into anyone.

  I’m almost there when something big and black comes hurtling toward me and I duck, throwing my arms over my head. The laugh of a woman next to me makes me peek through my arms.

  “That’s just the moon’s shadow, hon. It can’t hurt you none.”

  I spring up, and if I had the time, I’d be totally humiliated. But as it is, I’m out of time so the humiliation will have to wait. I run the last few feet and finally see Ally, with Bree on the other side of her. They’re facing away from me, staring up like everyone else. I almost trip again, over my own feet this time, but catch myself in time to see the last bit of light disappear. The campground erupts in screams and hollers as a whisper-thin circle of white flame appears above us. My heart skips a beat as I register the fact that the fiery circle is the only thing that proves the sun still exists. It’s like a big eye beaming down on those of us lucky enough to stand beneath it.