“Boo!” said Buddy. He smashed the rolled-up blue Play-Doh and laughed.
“You sounded just like her!” said Mallory. “You’re so funny, Nova!”
And then Francine was there to take me home.
After school, Billy came home from work early and asked me and Joanie to make cookies with him. Joanie said no because she is busy studying for when she goes back to college, but I love making cookies! Billy is a good baker like Mama was.
“Dad doesn’t get to bake fun stuff like that at his restaurant,” said Joanie. “He supervises the chefs while they make fancy snails and duck pâté!”
I stuck out my tongue. I have not been to Billy’s restaurant yet. Francine says it is very fancy and always busy, but if the chefs are making snails and ducks I don’t want to go!
“Dad’s restaurant works with a community organization that helps people with Down syndrome and autism get jobs,” added Joanie. “It’s a pretty cool place. And the mushroom risotto is…” She put two thumbs up.
I stuck my tongue out again because mushrooms belong in the ground, not on my plate. Then Joanie went back to her books and Billy went back to the baking.
“Will you crack these for me, Nova?” Billy asked when it was egg time.
I tried.
But I guess I did not do my best job because the egg fell apart and shells went in the bowl and then I thought maybe I might cry. I bit my hand between my thumb and pointer finger.
“It’s okay!” Billy took my hand out of my mouth. He used a big part of the shell to get the little bits of shell out. “I’ll teach you. Practice makes perfect!”
He held his hand over my hand and we tap-tap-tapped the egg on the edge of the bowl to make a line in the shell. He held my hands in his hands and helped me pull the two sides apart so the Yellow-Orange yolk and gooey clear part fell in the bowl with no shell pieces. He let me do the next one myself and this time I did a good job. No shells went in.
Then he showed me how to use the electric mixer, which I kind of did not like because it was loud but also kind of liked because of the way the silver beaters swirled round and round and round. After we put in everything except the chocolate chips he let me eat some raw dough but not while Francine was in the kitchen because Billy says she does not allow that. He looked at Joanie.
“Don’t worry, I won’t tell!” She was sitting at the table, reading a boring-looking book, writing notes, and eating carrots. “I’d have some too but I’m trying to eat healthier.”
“Yeah,” said Billy. “If your mother asks, I am too.” Then he took a big bite of the raw dough.
I do not remember if Mama let me eat raw dough, but I remember baking with her when you were at school. I remember one time we made brownies and another time we made a whole chocolate cake with white frosting with pink flowers. I remember standing on a chair and I remember a wooden spoon and I remember Mama singing along with the radio and calling me her special girl. I remember the time I spilled the whole bag of flour and I cried but Mama laughed and then we drew hearts in the powder on the floor until you got home from school and made us clean it up, like you were the mama and Mama was the big sister.
I have not thought about that in a long long long time.
I want you to bake with Billy and me.
Is it okay if I like baking with Billy?
When the cookies were in the oven, I went upstairs to my room, found our old astronaut toy, picked up NASA Bear, got your mix tape and Walkman, and went up to the attic.
Even though you have taped over Side B many many many times with new music by Michael Jackson and Madonna, thank you for keeping Side A the same. I like that it is the same. I like knowing what song will be next. I like that when I listen to them, all my bad thoughts go away.
I rewound the tape to the beginning and pressed Play for David Bowie to sing “Space Oddity.” I needed to hear about Major Tom leaving his wife behind on Earth to travel into space. I put NASA Bear in my lap to be Ground Control and pretended the astronaut was Major Tom while I waited for the countdown. I closed my eyes to imagine I was there. Just like you taught me whenever I needed to forget about missing Mama.
But the Walkman wasn’t working.
And I started to cry.
I’ve been crying a lot since you’ve been gone, Bridget. I try to be tough like you, but I’m not you. So I sat there and I cried and I didn’t know what to do, and then the door opened, the overhead light came on, and there was Joanie.
“Nova! I went looking for you in your room and you were gone! Then I opened the door to the attic and heard crying. Are you okay? Did you hurt yourself?”
I held up the Walkman.
“Did you drop it? Is it broken?” Joanie sat cross-legged beside me. “Doesn’t look broken.” She opened it to check the tape. “Looks okay.”
I shook my head. Not okay.
“Can I see?” She reached for the headphones. I let her take them. She put them on her ears and pressed Play. “No sound? I bet it’s the batteries. Don’t cry! I’ve got more in my room. Come downstairs.”
I followed Joanie down to her room. Her room is…pink.
All shades.
The walls are Crayola Salmon pink, her bedspread is Mulberry and Magenta, her curtains are neon pink, and her carpet is pale pink. All that pink kind of made me feel like I was standing inside county fair cotton candy, and my tummy twisted. I have not had cotton candy since last Halloween.
“Here you go!” Joanie placed two new batteries inside the back of the Walkman, popped it shut, and handed it to me. “Good as new!”
I said “Ah” but I meant “Thanks,” and then I left to go back to the attic, but now I wasn’t thinking about Major Tom. I was thinking about last Halloween.
You said you were taking me trick-or-treating.
That was a lie.
It was not the first time you lied to our foster parents, but it was the first time you lied to me.
We went to that boy’s house for a party instead, even though our foster parents always said “No parties!” and “No boys!”
You made our costumes. Yours was pointy cardboard ears glued to a headband with a fluffy brown and white tail. Mine was a mint-green one-piece jumpsuit with a yellow scarf.
You knocked on the boy’s door. I held out my pillowcase. I wanted my candy.
He opened the door and smiled with too many teeth. He was not holding a candy bowl like people are supposed to on Halloween, but he was in costume, a long black cape with his face painted white with red drips by the corners of his mouth. You shrieked and jumped back.
“Ahh! Look, Nova! A vampire!”
He laughed and took his teeth out. That’s when I jumped back. Teeth are not supposed to come out. He showed them to me.
“Fake fangs. What do you think?”
You said, “Nova likes them. She thinks they’re cool.”
But that was another lie.
I did not like them. I thought they were gross. Then you asked if he liked our costumes.
“You’re a cat and she’s…an elf?” he guessed.
That made me mad, even madder than not getting candy when he opened the door.
“I’m the Fox and she’s the Little Prince! Geez, read a book sometime, you troglodyte!”
“You’re the foxiest fox I’ve ever seen!” he said. Then he hugged you. “Come in. Everyone’s already here.” We followed him to the kitchen, where a chicken, a roll of Life Savers, Batman, Wonder Woman, two cats in short dresses, and a wrestler were all crowded around a bowl of candy on the table, but none of them were saying “Trick or treat!” before they took some.
“Check it out!” said the boy, pointing to a machine on the counter. “I rented it. It makes cotton candy! Cool, huh?”
“So cool
!” you said. “Right, Nova?”
I crossed my arms and did not speak.
Then you asked me to please be good so I said “Mm” and you said thank you, but I didn’t mean yes. I meant mad. I was mad. I was mad because I wanted to trick-or-treat and I was mad because you lied. I stayed mad for almost the whole party. I stayed mad even while I was eating my cotton candy. I ate so much cotton candy my stomach hurt.
But after everyone else had gone, I heard you talking to that boy.
He said, “It must be a lot of work, bringing Nova everywhere. Won’t it be nice to go to college without her?”
You said, “No. I won’t go anywhere without her. Not even college.”
He laughed. “Come on. Aren’t you always telling me you have to get out of that house, out of this town? They’re not just gonna let you take her with you when you turn eighteen. You know that, right?”
Then you said, “I don’t care what they say. If I can take her to the moon, I can take her anywhere.”
Suddenly, I wasn’t mad anymore.
I miss you.
Love,
Your Super Nova
Friday started the same as Thursday and Wednesday and Tuesday and Monday. Nova sat at her desk half-heartedly participating in Mrs. Pierce’s testing, trying to balance her teacher’s voice with all of the other noises both in the room and in her head. It was not easy. She did not do well. Nova thought about Francine telling her to do her best job and tried to work harder, but it was impossible. She found herself wondering what would happen if she did her worst job instead, if she didn’t even try. Would Francine and Billy give her back to foster care? When Bridget stopped doing well in school, when she stopped trying and told everyone she didn’t care about the rules or her grades anymore, their last foster family threatened to send her away. They said they couldn’t handle her anymore. That was why she wanted to escape.
“We might have to be apart for a little while, Nova,” she’d said. “They might separate us again, but if they do, I’ll come back for you. I’ll be back before the Challenger launches so we can watch it together, like we planned, no matter what. I promise.”
* * *
The first time they got separated, almost one whole year ago, Nova was scared. She and Bridget had never been apart before, not overnight, not even one time, but all of a sudden Nova was in a group home for special kids and Bridget was someplace else, and nobody told her why or for how long they’d be apart. Every night, after she was tucked in, Nova would sneak out of bed and go to the window to find the three brightest stars and wish for Bridget to find her. It took a long time, from before Valentine’s Day to after Easter, but finally Nova got her wish.
It was a Tuesday afternoon when Mrs. Steele, their social worker, picked Nova up at school. She talked to the teacher for a few minutes, then turned to Nova and said, “I have a surprise for you!”
When they got out to Mrs. Steele’s wood-paneled station wagon, there was Bridget, grinning in the backseat. Nova jumped and squeaked and crawled in beside her. Then they hugged and hugged and Bridget promised she would never let them get split up again. Mrs. Steele drove a long way to their new home, where they had hot oatmeal, warm blankets, and two sets of bunk beds. The new foster parents did not allow loud music or TV or caffeine, but Nova didn’t care about any of their silly rules. She was just happy to be back with Bridget.
“You knew I’d get us back together, right, Nova?” Bridget asked before bedtime that first night. “You weren’t too scared? You knew I’d fix it.”
“Mm!” said Nova, pulling NASA Bear out of her backpack and handing him to her sister.
“I missed this guy too.” Bridget kissed his soft plastic helmet. “You know, Mama gave him to me when I turned three. That means he’s older than you are!”
“Na-ah Beah.” Nova tapped her sister’s hand with NASA Bear’s paw. She wanted Bridget to know he’d missed her too.
“I can’t believe they put you in a group home. Me too, by the way. I was in one for teens.” Bridget dropped her voice so the girls in the other set of bunk beds couldn’t hear. “That rotten Mrs. Steele said it was temporary, just until they found a house to take us both, but I’ll never let that happen again, okay?”
“Kay-kay.”
“Oh-kay?”
“Oh-kay.”
“I mean it.” Bridget held one of Nova’s hands between hers. Nova did not pull away. “Even if they put us in different states—no, different countries…No, different planets!—even if they put us on different planets, I’ll still find a way to get back to you. I promise.”
* * *
For the first time, it occurred to Nova that if she didn’t know where to send Bridget’s letters, how would Bridget know where to find her? A sick feeling twisted up in her gut. She would have to wish on three bright stars that Bridget already knew about Billy and Francine.
But even if Bridget did know about Billy and Francine, what if Mrs. Steele moved Nova again before the launch? What if the Wests decided they didn’t want a girl who didn’t do her best job during testing? What if they couldn’t handle her anymore?
What if Bridget arrived at Jefferson Middle School to find that Nova was gone? Nova bit down hard on her lip, shook her head one-two-three-four times, and tried her hardest to concentrate on what Mrs. Pierce was asking her to do, but with tears stinging her eyes it was hard to see the blocks she was supposed to be stacking.
Later in Mr. O’Reilly’s room, Nova and Mary-Beth colored maps of the United States while the rest of the class talked about Russia’s iron curtains, then all the girls lined up like ducklings to go to home economics while the boys went down to woodshop.
“Welcome, welcome, class!” The home economics teacher ushered them in. Nova liked her right away. She looked like Strega Nona, that old lady from the picture book, short and plump with gray hair, a long apron, a huge nose, and an oversized bosom that prompted Nova to glance down at her own flat chest and wonder if she would ever fill out like Bridget had in middle school. She placed her hands over her nonexistent boobs, checking for signs of growth. Nothing.
“Nova!” snapped Miss Chambers. “Hands out of your overalls!”
Standing a little to the left of them, two girls could barely hold back their giggles. One looked at Nova, then whispered to the other behind her hand.
Nova removed her palms from her chest, confused and embarrassed. She hit herself one-two-three-four times in the temple with her palm to make the bad feeling go away, but it did not work. What were the girls laughing about? Why did Miss Chambers seem upset?
“Those girls are super mean,” hissed Mallory, adjusting her glasses and glaring at them. “Last semester one of their friends tripped Mary-Beth in gym class. She said it was an accident but it was no accident.”
“We’re baking chocolate chip cookies today!” announced Not-Strega-Nona, clapping her hands together. “Your materials have already been set out.”
Miss Chambers beamed at Mallory, Mary-Beth, and Nova. Nova grinned back. She could bake cookies! She could crack eggs! She wondered if they would be allowed to eat the raw dough.
The thirteen girls were separated into three groups at three workstations, with two ovens in each workstation and two girls at each oven, except for the one Nova, Mary-Beth, and Mallory were to use with Miss Chambers.
Sharing their workstation were the two giggling girls, who were not giggling anymore.
“Great, we’re at the spaz station!” said the taller girl, who Nova thought looked like a carrot thanks to her bright orange dress, ginger hair, and wide green cloth headband. She was the one who had been pointing. “Can’t Denise and me work with Ashley and Sammy Jo?”
“No, Krystle,” said Not-Strega-Nona. “I let you choose your partners, not your stations.”
Carrot Krystle let out an exaggerated sigh as her friend,
whose hair was pulled into dozens of braids, shrugged. She was wearing a polka-dot dress with matching plastic jewelry. Nova decided to name her Polka Dot Denise.
While Not-Strega-Nona lectured on the importance of safety in the work space, Nova felt herself drifting away. Her eyes saw stars. Her ears heard music. She covered her ears to block out the teacher so “Space Oddity” filled the room. She pictured herself standing on a planet, alone, like the Little Prince, waiting for the Fox to come with his secret.
“Nova?” Miss Chambers nudged her gently. “Nova, it’s time to start.”
Nova lowered her hands. She had missed all the instructions. But that was okay. Cookies were easy.
Nova, Mallory, and Mary-Beth took turns measuring, pouring, and mixing, led by Miss Chambers, who wouldn’t let them eat any of the raw dough but did look the other way when they snuck a few chocolate chips. When Miss Chambers asked for a volunteer to crack the eggs, Nova jumped and squeaked and raised her hand. She did the job carefully. Tap-tap-tap. No shells in the bowl. She wished she could tell Billy.
While Nova was cracking, Mary-Beth was looking for a pot holder, for later. She found one and pulled it off the counter between the two workstations, not realizing the other girls’ carton of eggs was resting on its corner. The carton crashed to the floor, spilling egg yolk.
“Oh, great!” said Carrot Krystle. “Look what you did!”
“It wath an accthident,” whispered Mary-Beth. Her whole face went Carnation Pink as her eyes filled with tears. Mary-Beth cried easily, even more easily than Nova.
“Be more careful, then!” snapped Carrot Krystle. She knelt on the floor to clean up. Miss Chambers insisted that Mary-Beth help, then reminded Carrot Krystle to be nice before hurrying away to get more paper towels from the dispenser by the door.
Carrot Krystle wrinkled her nose as if the eggs smelled bad.
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