Planet Earth Is Blue

by Nicole Panteleakos

  The launch is in ten days, Bridget. It was in the newspaper this morning. Billy read it out loud: “T-minus ten days until Challenger launches!”

  I am glad it is ten days. I can count up to ten and I can count down from ten. Ten is my best number! Every countdown starts with ten.

  This means you have ten days to find me so we can watch it together like you promised.

  Maybe if you decide it’s okay to be a foster kid again, Francine and Billy will let you have the guest room.

  It does not lead to the attic or even the basement, but it has carpeting.

  Please come back.

  I miss you.

  Love,

  Your Super Nova

  Francine held Nova’s hand as they walked up the stairs to Jefferson Middle School, a rectangular two-story building with a brick façade and windows that stretched from ceiling to floor on either side of centered double doors. Nova hugged NASA Bear with her free arm. Billy led the way, talking the entire time.

  “You’ll love it, Nova. All our kids went to Jefferson from fifth grade through eighth. That was back before they moved the fifth graders into the elementary school building to make way for more specials. Do you know about specials?”

  Nova made her “Mm” sound, which the Wests were learning to recognize as a yes. Some of her old schools called classes specials if they were taught by teachers who were not the classroom teacher. Other schools called them electives or extras or enrichment courses.

  “Here they offer all the regulars—music, art, gym—but they’ve also got home economics for the girls, and woodshop for the boys, and once a week they have X-Block.”

  Nova cocked her head to the side.

  “I know what you’re thinking,” said Billy. “What the heck is X-Block?”

  Nova smiled. That was what she was thinking—minus “the heck.”

  “X-Block is the most special of the specials. You can sign up for a fun class you want and you get to pick a new one each quarter. They started that when our son John was in sixth grade. It was his idea. He wrote up a formal proposal and presented it to the teachers during a faculty meeting. We were so proud of him…”

  Billy’s voice cracked. Francine picked up where he left off.

  “…for taking the initiative. Johnny was a shy, sweet boy who always wanted to learn new things but had trouble making friends. This helped him meet kids with similar interests.”

  “Now he’s a recreation director,” said Billy. “Planning activities for at-risk kids!” He gave Nova’s shoulder a squeeze. She pulled away.

  Francine continued the explanation.

  “During X-Block, kids can decide whether they want to do band, chorus, soccer, softball, archery, book club, dance…We talked to Mrs. Pierce; she’s going to be your special education teacher, and she said kids who are more—more like you—they usually stay in the special ed room during X-Block, but we thought…well…”

  “We thought you’d prefer something fun!” Billy finished. “They have a planetarium here and offer astronomy this semester, so we requested that for you. Do you know about astronomy? Have you ever been inside a planetarium?”

  Nova tapped her right middle finger and her forefinger rapidly against her chin. She hadn’t been in a planetarium before, but of course she knew all about astronomy. The study of stars, planets, moons, comets, galaxies…Bridget had taught her lots about astronomy.

  “Mm,” she answered finally, even though the answer was technically half yes, half no.

  Francine and Billy smiled. They had reached the double doors. Billy knocked on the glass. From inside the building, a heavyset man wearing a blazer with jeans was making his way toward them. He opened the door.

  “If it isn’t Mr. and Mrs. West!” The man shook Billy’s hand and kissed Francine on the cheek. Nova promptly stuck her hand out like Billy, ready to shake, because there was no way she wanted this man’s beard and lips anywhere near her face.

  “How polite!” exclaimed the man, taking Nova’s hand. “You Must Be Nova!”

  “Mm,” said Nova. She was certainly using that word an awful lot today.

  “My Name Is Principal Dowling!” Like so many of her former teachers and foster parents, Principal Dowling emphasized each word as if Nova couldn’t hear well. “Nice To Meet You! Ready For The Grand Tour?” He put his face close to hers so she had to look at him. She did not make her “Mm” sound or look at his eyes, but she did notice his front teeth, which were crooked like her own, before shifting her gaze to the yellow-and-blue-tiled floor.

  “We’re ready,” said Francine. “Lead the way!”

  The school was as flat and rectangular on the inside as it was on the outside. From the main entrance, hallways stretched to the left and to the right, and a wide staircase stood before them.

  “We had a long talk with the powers that be and determined it would be best for you to go back to sixth grade,” explained Billy. Nova narrowed her eyes. She was already halfway through seventh grade. Why go backward? You only went backward when you were counting down to lift-off. Did this mean she would repeat fifth grade next year and fourth the year after that? She pictured herself seventeen like Bridget, squished into a kindergarten desk, and frowned.

  “You Will Love Sixth Grade!” Principal Dowling was smiling with too many (crooked) teeth. Nova covered her ears and hummed but she could still hear him talking to her foster parents.

  “As you know, upstairs we have seventh grade, eighth grade, and the planetarium, but unfortunately Mr. Mindy keeps it locked up when he’s not here, so she’ll have to wait and see on Wednesday. That’s when sixth grade has X-Block.” He turned to Billy. “Did you tell her about X-Block?”

  “We sure did!” said Billy, smiling. He nudged her playfully. “Right, Nova?”

  “Mm,” she said.

  It seemed like an okay school. The walls were lined with recently repainted lockers. (Nova knew they were recently repainted because she touched one and got paint on her finger, which she licked off. It did not taste as orange as it looked.) Above the lockers and on teachers’ doors were posters and projects by students who’d designed their own book covers. Nova recognized one title right away: Bridge to Terabithia. Bridget had read her the first two chapters but ended up finishing it on her own one night while Nova was asleep. She’d apologized in the morning, explaining she “just had to” know the ending. Nova didn’t mind. Bridget had promised they’d start A Wrinkle in Time next, and Nova already loved it for its dusky blue cover with green and black circles.

  “Sad book.” Francine tapped the Bridge to Terabithia poster. “I don’t think kids should read books about other kids dying.”

  Kids dying.

  Nova shuddered.

  Kids should not be dying. Bridget had taught her that last spring when she’d done a project on starvation in Ethiopia.

  “This shouldn’t happen.” Bridget slammed her research book shut. “Not to kids. Kids don’t deserve to die. Leave the dying for the people who start the wars that create the famines, not the kids who can’t do a damn thing about it!”

  Nova didn’t understand words like starvation and famine and didn’t have the first idea where Ethiopia was (far from their home in New Hampshire, she guessed), but she understood that it was bad, because Bridget swore. And Bridget almost never swore. Not in front of Nova.

  “Do you see?” asked Billy, jostling Nova out of the memory. He was pointing at another poster, which featured a girl jumping over a brook. “That’s what your classmates are learning.”

  Nova couldn’t understand all of the words on their projects, but she could tell that these kids weren’t reading picture books, which were the only ones teachers ever gave her. They usually weren’t even good picture books. Each boring book had two or three boring words on each boring page under boring pictures. See cat.
See cat run. Run, cat, run!

  Nova hated those books.

  Only Bridget read to her from chapter books and novels, ones that looked like Bridge to Terabithia. The Little Prince had been their favorite since forever, but they’d also shared Peter Pan, Alice in Wonderland, Harriet the Spy, and all seven books about spunky Ramona Quimby and her big sister, Beezus.

  Nova was still staring at the Bridge to Terabithia poster when she began to wiggle. The wiggle grew into a dance. She squeezed her legs together, bouncing on her toes.

  “I’ll take her to the bathroom!” Francine hurried Nova down the hall. Nova was relieved. She often didn’t realize she had to GO until it was almost too late, and even when she did recognize the signs, she didn’t know how to tell anyone. At home she could run into the bathroom and screech if she couldn’t get her overalls off fast enough by herself, until Francine or Joanie came to help.

  Once Nova closed herself into a stall, she was able to look around. The bathroom walls and ceiling were white, but the stall doors were the same orange as the lockers. Some girls had used permanent markers to write their names in block letters, visible even through the new paint job. Nova reached out to trace a bubbled B with her fingertip. B for Bridget.

  After she flushed, Nova pulled her overalls up and stepped out of the stall so Francine could fasten them. Francine also reminded Nova to wash her hands with soap (which was silly because Nova always washed her hands with soap), then led her back out into the hall.

  “We’re going to show you the special education room now, Nova. Mrs. Pierce is looking forward to meeting you.” Principal Dowling glanced at Billy. He wasn’t speaking in that strange forceful way anymore, which made Nova happy.

  “Right this way, m’dear,” said Billy in a silly English accent. He took Nova’s hand and twirled her under his arm. She let out a squeak of laughter.

  Principal Dowling unlocked the door to the large, brightly decorated classroom at the end of the hall. “Mrs. Pierce just returned to us in September. I don’t know if she mentioned it at your meeting last week, but she spent two years on sabbatical in California, studying the latest techniques for teaching children with autism. We’re excited for her to implement what she’s learned.”

  Nova glanced around. Across from her was a massive poster of the solar system that made her breath hitch in her throat. Glossy and bright, featuring all nine planets and Earth’s moon. It was beautiful. Too beautiful. Her body began to bounce. Even NASA Bear was excited.

  Billy and Francine encouraged her to look around, to see what else the classroom had to offer. It wasn’t easy, but she tore her eyes from the solar system.

  Along one wall were bookshelves, and taped up all over the other wall were laminated cards featuring shapes and colors, so many shapes and colors. By the bookshelves were posters from nursery rhymes and a small play area with a beanbag chair, plus regular chairs on a bright blue rug arranged in a semicircle. Near the laminated cards were desks and tables, each with a name tag for the student who sat there. Nova closed her eyes and covered her ears as Billy and Francine led her around, prompted by the principal.

  Exploring this new classroom reminded Nova of her very first day in her very first school. She was five years old and small and scared. She and Bridget had just moved in with their very first foster family, who said it was “high time” Nova started school. Nova did not want it to be “high time.” She hated not knowing what to expect. She hated new and unfamiliar places. And she hated being away from Mama. But Bridget was there. Bridget rode the bus with her. Bridget walked her to her classroom. Bridget held her hand the whole way.

  “I am right down the hall if you need me,” Bridget promised. “Room two twelve. Can you remember that? Two twelve.”

  “Mm,” said Nova.

  “Don’t say ‘mm,’ Nova. Say yes. You can do it. Yes.”

  “Yeh.”

  Bridget smiled and kissed Nova’s forehead.

  “Good job! You are so smart. Don’t let them tell you you’re not smart. I know you’re smart and you know you’re smart, but if you only say ‘mm’ they’re gonna think you’re not smart. Say ‘yes’ and ‘no.’ You can say ‘no,’ right?”

  “Yeh.”

  “Say it now. ‘No.’ Your turn.”

  “No.”

  “Great job!” Bridget hugged her again. “Kindergarten will be great. It’s all coloring and singing and nap time and stories and playing with blocks. You’re good at all of those things, right?”

  “Mm.”

  “Not ‘Mm’! Yes. Listen, I’m right down the hall in room two twelve. If anyone is mean to you, you come get me and we’ll leave, okay? We’ll walk right out of this school and never come back. Okay?”

  “Kay.”

  “Okay?”

  “Kay-kay.”

  “Oh-kay.”

  “Oh-kay.”

  “Good. I’m proud of you. Have fun, Super Nova.”

  But Nova did not have fun. The teacher started by asking, “What is your name?” Nova did not answer.

  “Don’t you know your name?” Teacher asked.

  Nova did not answer.

  “Are you shy?” Teacher asked.

  Nova did not answer.

  “Hel-lo?” Teacher sang, waving a hand in front of Nova’s face. Nova jerked away. The teacher was too close. Nova did not like anybody too close except Bridget. Or sometimes Mama. She screeched and swatted toward Teacher.

  “Excuse me, young lady!” Teacher’s voice was getting too loud. “You need to answer!”

  Nova backed up and flapped her hands in the air, making her squeaking noise. When Teacher reached toward her, she closed her eyes and covered her ears, trying to block out the world.

  The kindergarten classroom was very noisy.

  Pencil sharpener sharpening.

  Marbles spilling out from a metal can onto the floor.

  Crayons rolling from a cardboard box onto the table.

  Birds chirping outside.

  Kids chirping inside.

  It was too much.

  Nova dropped to her knees and rocked back and forth, squeaking, eyes still closed.

  “Get up,” said Teacher, tugging at her arm.

  “Bidge!” Nova screamed for her big sister to save her. “Bidge, Bidge, Bidge!”

  “What are you saying?” Teacher yanked Nova roughly to her feet. “We don’t allow curse words in this classroom, young lady. Last chance. Tell me your name or it’s straight to the principal’s office with you!”

  She was holding Nova’s arm too hard. Nova could feel skin against her skin and she hated skin on her skin. Where were they going? She hated the not knowing even more than she hated skin on her skin. Frightened, she hit Teacher over and over, wanting her to let go, but Teacher did not.

  “Students, sit on the rug,” said Teacher. “I will be right back.”

  She dragged Nova down the hall still screaming and hitting.

  “Bidge! Bidge!” Nova could not remember which room her sister was in. She started to cry. She could not move her feet. It was as if she’d forgotten how to walk. Her cloth sneakers were dragging on the carpet. Nova did not know where they were going. Nova did not understand why she was in trouble. Nova wanted Bridget to save her, to bring her home. Not to the foster home, but to Mama’s home. Their real home. That was where their rocket ship was.

  “Walk!” Teacher yelled.

  “Help!” Nova tried to say, but only noises come out, noises that didn’t sound anything like “help.” She cried harder, so hard she began to cough. She couldn’t see through her tears.

  Suddenly, Bridget came tearing out of a classroom. Bridget yanked her sister roughly away from the teacher and wrapped her in a tight hug.

  “What are you doing?” Bridget shouted. “Don’t touch her!”

 
“Bidge!” cried Nova, but it was even harder to speak now than before, because she couldn’t stop coughing and crying. She hoped Bridget would tell Teacher what she’d been trying to say.

  “I’m taking her to the office!” said Teacher, her round face purpling. “She was cursing and hitting me. She wouldn’t tell me her name.”

  “My sister doesn’t know how to curse,” Bridget said. She used her sleeve to wipe Nova’s runny nose. “And she was only hitting you because you scared her!” Then Bridget said a bad word.

  “You’re both going to the office!” Teacher pulled Nova by her right arm and Bridget by her left. Nova dragged her feet the whole way. Bridget unleashed every curse word she knew at top volume. That was how Nova knew how mad she was.

  “Deal with this,” ordered Teacher when they reached the principal’s office.

  Principal was not happy. He called their foster family. Their foster family was not happy.

  Bridget and Nova did not live with them for long.

  * * *

  “Nova, everything all right?” asked Francine, tapping Nova’s shoulder lightly. Nova jumped. She had forgotten that she was in the Jefferson Middle School special education room. She looked at Francine, then at the window by the desk that was going to be hers.

  Francine tried to hug her, but Nova pulled away. She did not enjoy hugging. Francine made a sad sound, like a sigh, and Nova wasn’t sure why but it made her feel bad, so she handed Francine NASA Bear.

  “Na-ah Beah bebba,” she said. She meant “NASA Bear makes everything better.”

  “I don’t understand,” said Francine, looking pained. “But I love that you’re talking! Can you tell me again?”

  “Mm,” said Nova. She meant no.