Page 49 of Every Almost

"I mean, I have always wondered what it would be like to be Napoleon Bonaparte," Charlie said as Katie wobbled.

"Who's that?" Katie asked once she regained her bearings. Charlie rolled her eyes.

"Never mind, Kitty-Kat." Katie smiled and grabbed Charlie's arm, pulling her through the doors to the theater, Frank and Helen following behind them.

They all found their seats, Katie settling in on Charlie's left, just like in Shelbyville, and balanced the popcorn between all of them, just like on the Beckmans' sofa. Charlie draped her arm across the back of Katie's chair the way she always did, not because Katie needed protecting in a movie theater, but because this was how they sat, and how they'd always sat, and Charlie would never have it any other way.

The lights went down. A line of text in blue against a black screen, then the biggest crescendo of music erupted through the theater while the title appeared on the screen and zoomed away. Both Katie and Charlie jumped in their seats, but Charlie would later say it was because of her excitement.

Katie knew better.

STAR WARS

Scrolling gold text against a field of stars, telling the story of the war between the Empire and the Rebellion, what had happened before this, and the important facts you needed to know. Katie's hand found Charlie's arm and squeezed.

It wasn't the story that Charlie would remember, though she would still love it. The farmboy and the princess and the old wizard and the walking carpet who turned out to be the mostloyal friend any of them had. It wasn't the blasters or even the lightsabers.

It was theships.

The Millennium Falcon dropping out of lightspeed with a shudder she could feel in her joints. Engines that didn't care about elegance and cared enormously about function.

And theyworked.

They worked beautifully, impossibly, the way a thing works when the person who built it understands it inside and out, piece by piece, all the way through. When the X-wings banked into the trench run, Charlie's hand gripped the armrest because she could see the angles, feel the drag, could sense the exact moment the pilot cut thrust and let the ship's own momentum carry it into the shot.

Next to her, Frank's hand gripped his armrest at the same moment. Charlie didn't see it, but Helen did. Helen looked between the two of them, both frozen, both leaning forward, both locked onto the screen with identical expressions of wonder, and nudged Katie with her elbow. Katie followed her gaze and saw it too. Charlie and Frank, mirror images of each other, the same jaw set, the same barely contained excitement, the same look of someone watching something they'd been waiting their whole life to see. Katie and Helen shared a glance and a small smile, and said nothing, because the moment didn't need words. It needed witnesses.

Then the climatic ending showed up. The exhaust port. Two meters wide. One shot. Everything the Empire had built, all that armor and all that firepower, and the whole thing came down to a single point of failure so small that the targeting computer couldn't calculate the approach. So the pilot turned it off. He closed his eyes and trusted his hands, and the shot went in clean.

Charlie forgot to breathe.

When the heroes were awarded their medals and the music swelled, the credits began to roll and the house lights came up. But Charlie didn't move, and neither did Frank.

The other families gathered their things around them, kids chattering, parents stretching. Helen reached over and tapped Frank's knee. He didn't respond. Katie poked Charlie in the ribs.

"Charlie? Come on. It's over."

"Yeah..." Charlie said, shaking her head slightly. "Yeah, okay."

Helen poked Frank harder. "Frank. The movie is over."

Frank blinked. "What? Oh. Right." He turned to Helen as though he'd just been woken from a dream. Helen shook her head and glanced at Katie.

"We'vedefinitelylost them," Helen said. Katie giggled.

The world came back into focus as they all rose from their seats. When back in the lobby, Katie looked over at Charlie and her face must have looked different, because Katie tilted her head and studied her with the particular focus she reserved for things she intended to remember.

"You okay?" Katie asked, not because Charlie looked upset but because she lookedchanged,and Katie could tell the difference.

"Yeah," she said, and then she smiled. "I'm good, Kit-Kat.Reallygood." The smile was real and enormous. Katie grinned back, because Charlie's joy had always been contagious. And it was most especially contagious to Katie.

"I don't know about you," Frank said as they walked out of the cinema and into the bright May sun. "But those ships?—"

"Theships!" Charlie exclaimed.

"Incredible—!"

"Something out of mywildestdreams?—!"