Planet Earth Is Blue

by Nicole Panteleakos

  Joanie was right.

  It was amazing.

  In her head, the voice of David Bowie swelled, louder and louder, until his voice was all she could hear.

  “And the stars look very different today…”

  Bridget had said the space shuttle Challenger gave them something to hope for.

  “Nova, don’t you see? The First Teacher in Space contest shows us that anyone can have a dream! If they work hard enough and want it bad enough, anyone can escape Earth, even a high school social studies teacher from New Hampshire.”

  Escape was very important to Bridget.

  “First, we escape foster care,” she used to say. “Then, we escape New Hampshire. Next, we escape America, and finally, planet Earth. In outer space, surrounded by stars, there’s no social worker to separate us. In outer space, dodging asteroids, there’s no belly of the sheep. In outer space, approaching the moon, there’s no radio static! There’s no Vietnam War or kids starving in Ethiopia or mean teachers or foster families who pretend they want us but don’t keep us forever! When Challenger sends Christa McAuliffe into space, Super Nova, we’ll go too, but in our minds. It’ll be good practice for when we’re grown-ups, when we can get there for real. Just you and me and NASA Bear, our space shuttle, and the moon.”

  There was one more thing, thought Nova. One more amazing thing Bridget hadn’t even considered.

  Sound could not travel in space. In space, there wouldn’t be the constant scratching of sounds that invaded her brain, making her want to bounce or scream or cover her ears. The only sounds would be from Ground Control and Bridget, radioed straight into her helmet, and “Space Oddity” by David Bowie, playing inside her head.

  No cat-scratch pencils. No heating vents. No chattering kids.

  Just Bridget and Bowie and Ground Control.

  Nova’s eyes filled with tears for the third time since the start of X-Block. She held her breath and hit herself in the temple one-two-three-four times but did not take her eyes off the twinkling flashes of falling meteors above and all around. Suddenly the stars stilled, and the moon was visible, closer than it could ever be seen from Earth, almost close enough to reach out and touch.

  In six days, this would be the real-life view shared by the First Teacher in Space and the six other crew members of the space shuttle Challenger.

  In six days, Bridget would be back.

  JAN 22, 1986

  Dear Bridget,

  T-minus six days until Challenger launch.

  I went to my first astronomy class in the planetarium today.

  It is the best thing ever, Bridget. Everything Joanie said it would be. NASA Bear liked it too. He did not want to leave. The only bad part was that you were not there with us.

  While we were walking upstairs, the girl who is helping me told me where my name comes from. Not the story you told me, about why you picked it and why it was perfect.

  She told me about supernovas.

  A supernova is the name for a star when it explodes. That’s me. An exploding star.

  After the planetarium, I could not think about school anymore. All I could think about was winning a contest and going to space and seeing a supernova up close and listening to “Space Oddity” and laughing with the stars.

  Can I tell you a secret, Bridget? Not a big secret, like the Fox’s secret. Just a little secret.

  Here it is:

  Even though Billy and Francine let me watch TV after school, I miss when we had to sneak it. I miss when we had to stay up late being real quiet so we would not get caught out of bed. I miss when we had to tiptoe down to the living room in our pajamas to watch Christa McAuliffe on The Tonight Show Starring Johnny Carson, with the volume turned down almost all the way.

  “If you’re offered a seat on a rocket ship,” Christa McAuliffe told Johnny Carson, “don’t ask what seat. Just get on.”

  “No duh!” you said. Remember? You said “No duh!” and you laughed so I laughed and we both laughed so loud it woke up our foster mother and she sent us back to bed but even after she yelled at us I couldn’t stop laughing. NASA Bear was laughing too.

  I miss that time for just us. I miss having a sister secret.

  Here is another secret, Bridget:

  I want to remember your eyes, but I can’t.

  I can’t remember what color they were or the way they were shaped.

  I can’t remember whether you had sleepy swollen bags under them the way Joanie complains she does. I can’t remember if you had laugh lines on the sides like Billy says Francine does. I can’t remember if they were the same as my eyes or different.

  I can’t remember you smiling at me with your eyes, or winking, or blinking, or crossing them in a silly way, or rolling them up to the ceiling.

  At school, Miss Chambers makes me look at her eyes. I hate it. I hate doing it, but I know what her eyes look like because I have to look over and over and over again when she says my name. Her eyes are plain boring brown and she wears Crayola Thistle eye shadow over the lids all the way to her eyebrows, which is weird. I try not to look too long.

  Tonight at dinner, I looked at Billy and Francine’s eyes. Not while they were looking at me. Never while they were looking. But when they looked away, when they looked at Joanie or at their food, I checked their eyes. I like their eyes more than Miss Chambers’s eyes.

  Francine’s are Crayola Midnight Blue like the deepest part of the ocean when the sun’s going down, way out where you could swim and not see your feet beneath you but you would know they are there, helping you tread water above the coral and rocks and sand and sharks and fishes and whales, not murky like pond water or clear like bath water. Dark, true, Midnight Blue.

  Billy’s eyes are Crayola Raw Umber, the brown of my favorite kind of mud, the kind that squishes squishily between your fingers when you play in the woods after the rain, the kind of mud that feels refrigerator cool even on the hottest summer day, completely pure without twigs or leaves or worms. Perfect, deep, Raw Umber.

  Billy and Francine smile with their eyes. They wink and blink but do not cross them at me like Alex when he’s being silly or roll them up like Mallory when she’s in trouble. Billy always wears glasses. Francine never wears Thistle eye shadow.

  They do not make me look at them, but I looked today. I looked at everyone’s eyes today.

  Alex’s eyes are Crayola Cornflower Blue, a baby blanket blue.

  Mallory’s eyes are Crayola Forest Green, a Christmas tree green.

  Joanie’s eyes are Crayola Raw Sienna, a fluffy bunny brown.

  Francine’s are Midnight Blue and Billy’s are Raw Umber.

  I even looked in the mirror, Bridget. I looked for a long time.

  My eyes are Crayola Sepia, a Lincoln Log brown.

  When I could not remember yours, I opened the bedside table where I keep The Little Prince. Under the book is your photographs folder. There are five pictures of you in there. One of you by yourself on a beach, one of you and that boy from the movies, one of you with your high school friends, and two of us together. In the beach picture and the one with your friends, you are wearing sunglasses. In the picture with the boy, you are both wearing baseball caps. And in one of the pictures of us together, the one from last year, your eyes are closed because you’re laughing.

  The fifth and final photograph is from Mama’s house. You are sitting on a couch with me in your arms. I am a baby wrapped in a blue blanket. You have your curly hair in pigtails and you are smiling with missing teeth. I don’t know who took the picture but I know it wasn’t Mama because she is kneeling on the floor in front of the couch with her back to the camera, holding her hand up under my body like she thinks you might drop me, which is silly because you would never let me go.

  I love this picture, but it is old and yellowed and fa
ded like you left it in the sun too long, and it did not answer my question at all.

  What color are your eyes, Bridget?

  Do we have the same eyes?

  I need to see. I need to know.

  I miss you.

  Love,

  Your Super Nova

  In the afternoon, Mr. O’Reilly told the class he had a surprise for everyone.

  “Principal Dowling has arranged for every kid in our whole school to be able to watch the upcoming launch of the space shuttle Challenger!”

  Nova twitched in her seat. Miss Chambers shot her a knowing smile.

  “Seventh and eighth grades will go to the auditorium, but sixth graders will watch in your classrooms. We’re going to wheel in one of the rainy-day-recess TVs and cable network CNN will broadcast it for kids across America. Now, who can tell me what’s special about Challenger?”

  Nova wriggled and squeaked. She raised her hand, the way Mr. O’Reilly was always reminding kids to do if they shouted out answers. He saw her hand and nodded, but then he pointed to a frizzy-haired girl in the front row.

  “Julia?”

  “NASA and President Reagan held a big contest to find someone to be the First Teacher in Space and the one they picked will teach lessons from on board the shuttle.”

  “That’s right!” Mr. O’Reilly high-fived her. “Can anyone tell me what state the winning teacher is from?”

  This time, Nova put up two hands. But Zach Zbornak shouted out his answer without raising even one.

  “She’s from here! New Hampshire!”

  “That’s right, Zach! But don’t forget to raise your hand.”

  “Who went to space first?” asked Front Row Julia. “Was it Buzz Aldrin?”

  RUSSIA! Nova wanted to scream. The first person in space was a Russian named Yuri Gagarin.

  “Guhguhguhguhguh!” she cried, unable to pronounce the cosmonaut’s last name. She wanted to add that Alan Shepard, the first American astronaut in space, had been from New Hampshire, just like them. Just like Christa McAuliffe. “Nuh-ha! Mm!”

  “Nova, let’s settle down, please. You’re getting a little loud,” said Miss Chambers softly. Nova glanced around. Her classmates were staring at her, including Mallory and Mary-Beth.

  “Class? Eyes up here!” ordered Mr. O’Reilly. “Which country went into space first?” He pointed at a tall boy in the back. “Winslow?”

  “Uh…America?”

  Nova grunted and slapped her hands down on the desk. Why hadn’t Mr. O’Reilly called on her? She knew it was not America!

  “Nope! Russia beat us by a few weeks! That cosmonaut’s name was Yuri Gagarin. Write that down.”

  Mallory, Mary-Beth, and the rest of the kids who could take notes picked up their pencils.

  “Now, does anyone here have any idea how a space shuttle gets off the ground?”

  “Ah-ah-ah-mm!” shouted Nova. She stood, raised one hand again, and smacked the desktop one-two-three-four times with the other. Bridget had taught her all about how a space shuttle works by shooting fuel out of the bottom so hard and fast it’s the pressure against the earth that launches it into orbit. It takes off like a rocket but lands like an airplane.

  “I know you’re excited, Nova,” whispered Miss Chambers, tugging her arm, “and I love that excitement! But you need a quiet voice and happy hands, or we’ll have to leave the room.”

  Nova flopped back down, clenched her fists, and had a quiet voice as Mr. O’Reilly explained to the class all the stuff she already knew, all the information Bridget had copied from library books and brought home to her over the years. Her favorites were about the planets and stars.

  “You know, Nova,” Bridget had said once, reading from her notes, “some of the stars we see twinkling in the sky probably burned out a long time ago. It takes their light at least four years to reach our eyes on Earth, so you and me have no way of knowing when they’ve already gone dark. That’s why, when you wish on one, you should wish on two more too, just to be sure. You don’t want to waste a wish on a star that’s already dead.”

  Nova closed her eyes and set her forehead down on the desk while Mr. O’Reilly continued to ask and answer questions about space travel. She knew all the answers.

  But nobody asked her.

  * * *

  “Check out what I got!” Bridget opened her Trapper Keeper, a gift from their latest foster mother. They were sitting on the floor of their bedroom, wearing their warmest pajamas and drinking hot cocoa. It was noon on a Tuesday, but an early-December snowstorm had canceled school. Nova was ten and Bridget was a high school sophomore, and they were with a brand-new foster family. Again.

  “I would have showed you yesterday, but with Mrs. Steele here all afternoon, I totally forgot!”

  “Bidge!” Nova slapped her forehead, like the people in the commercial who could have had a V8. Bridget laughed. She didn’t mind being teased about her forgetfulness.

  “I know, I’m sorry!” Bridget placed the Trapper Keeper in Nova’s lap. “This is Sally Ride. She’s my hero.” There was a glossy magazine photo on the inside front cover, featuring a woman with short, curly dark hair wearing a black shirt with the NASA logo on the front, just like on NASA Bear’s suit. She was floating inside a space shuttle, wearing a headset. Smiling.

  “You remember about Sally Ride, right? She just went to space in June, the first American woman ever, and she’s going back next year! My physics teacher gave me this article about her. The news reporters asked her all sorts of ridiculous questions because she’s a woman, like if she cries when things go wrong and what kind of makeup she planned to travel with, can you believe that? In this interview, she says as a kid she took all the science classes she could, so that’s what I’ll do too. What we’ll do. And it wasn’t easy. She went to an all-girls school where they didn’t really focus on science or advanced math or chemistry or physics, so she had to keep learning and learning. She went to college for her bachelor’s, then earned her master’s, then got her PhD. Know why? It’s because being an astronaut doesn’t just happen, Nova. You have to want it and you have to work at it.”

  Bridget wanted it. Bridget was working at it.

  Nova wanted to work at it too.

  * * *

  “Nova? Hey, Nova!” It was Mallory’s voice, interrupting Nova’s memory. “Earth to Nova! It’s your turn. Give it a spin!”

  Nova shook her head one-two-three-four times. She’d forgotten what they were doing. She’d forgotten they were playing a game.

  “Here!” Mallory put her hand over Nova’s and made her spin the Chutes and Ladders spinner while Buddy, Mary-Beth, and Alex waited. Nova pulled her hand away. She did not like hands touching her hands, not even Mallory’s hands. She picked up her game piece.

  “Good job!” said Mallory as Nova moved four spaces. “You’re on space nine! You mowed the lawn! Now go up the ladder.”

  “You in the lead!” exclaimed Alex. “That means you’s winning!”

  Nova smiled.

  She liked winning.

  But whenever it wasn’t her turn, she let her brain go right back to Bridget.

  JAN 23, 1986

  Dear Bridget,

  T-minus five days until Challenger launch.

  This afternoon at school was good, then bad, then good again.

  The first good thing was in Mr. O’Reilly’s room. He said we will watch the Challenger launch from our classroom on the TV, which means we will not miss it.

  The bad thing was when he asked questions about space and no one let me tell the answers. They want me to sit with a Quiet Voice and a Calm Body and Happy Hands and just listen! It’s not fair. When you come to watch the launch, you can tell Mr. O’Reilly and Miss Chambers how smart I am so he will call on me and she will not say “Please settle down.”

 
; After that, the afternoon got good again. I played Chutes and Ladders with Mallory and Alex and Buddy and Mary-Beth…and I won! I was the first one to make it all the way to the blue ribbon 100 square. I beat Mallory by only one because she was on 99 and Alex says 99 plus 1 equals 100. When I got to 100 Mallory said a bad word and threw her game piece and then knocked the board on the floor so Miss Chambers made her go sit down. She stomped her feet and ripped up the rules reminder sheet hanging next to her desk. Mary-Beth says Mallory does not like to lose. But she must have stopped being mad by the end of the day, because she asked me and Buddy to play Play-Doh with her.

  When Buddy is not bouncing, he likes to make face pieces with the Play-Doh, like Mr. Potato Head has, then he puts them on his own face. Today he made blue straight line eyebrows and placed them on his forehead, almost touching in the center but up on the ends, to look angry. He frowned hard and wagged his pointer finger, looking just like the guy helper teacher when he is giving directions for the tenth time. Mallory snorted.

  “Oh, hello, Mr. Malone!” she said. “When did you get here?”

  Buddy laughed and took the Play-Doh off his face, leaving it balled up in front of him. He tapped the back of Mallory’s hand and pointed to her face.

  “Okay, my turn. Who am I?” She put on a yellow Play-Doh beard and mustache. “It Is Especially Special To See You Looking So Special Today, Special Ed Kids!”

  I laughed my biggest laugh because I knew who she was right away: Principal Dowling, who says every word like it’s its own sentence!

  “Your turn, Nova.” She handed me a ball of green, but I did not know who to be. Buddy took it out of my hand and made two circles, which he attached together with a curved line. He pressed them around my eyes.

  “Glasses,” said Mallory. “Are you Miss Chambers?”

  That gave me an idea. I picked up Buddy’s hand and made him wave it the right way, like Miss Chambers did to me on Day One. Then I told him “Touch blue,” but I didn’t think he would get it because it sounded like “Tuh boo.”