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“Because my father said that only a woman could create something so perfect. If the universe was a man, the planets would be colliding, trying to get closer to the sun.”
“That don’t make any sense,” I tell her.
“It does to me. Now, quit stalling.” That big toothy grin of hers draws me like sugar does ants. I step up to the telescope, and she moves out of the way so I can lean down. Just before I press my eye to the cold, plastic rim of the view finder, I snap it shut.
My heart feels like it’s going to come right out of my shirt. I have no idea what I’m gonna see when I open my eyes. But I know, just like everything she’s shown me so far, it’ll leave me wanting more.
“It’s gonna be amazing. I have it pointing right in the center of the Big Dipper. You’re about to see the planet Jupiter,” she says from behind me.
“Really?” I whisper. I try to swallow the ball of anticipation in my throat and take a deep breath.
“Graham, open your eyes,” she whispers softly into my ear.
Like they know that she’s in charge, my eyes pop open and my vision is filled with what looks like a million blinking, burning lights. A million burning possibilities. My heart feels like it’s expanding in my chest, and my mind starts to buzz with the desire to understand everything I’m seeing.
I will never be the same after this.
“Apollo,” I whisper, and she comes to stand next to me. When she’s close enough that I can feel her, I say, “It’s so …” I don’t have a word that describes something so beautiful and endless. “I dunno. There’s so much out there,” I say, my voice full of wonder. “I want all of that, Apollo.”
She wraps her little arms around my waist and rests her head on my shoulder. “Yeah, me too.”
A week ago, my world felt small and dark. I didn’t have anything to look forward to but reading my book by the lake.
I look down at the top of Apollo’s head. Her daddy must have been really smart giving her that name. Because she’s just like the sun. She chases away the dark. She lights me up and makes me worth looking at.
I haven’t known much love in my life. Even before Ellie died, love wasn’t something we showed or shared. But, right now, it’s filling this room. In a way that even though I’ve never experienced it, I know exactly what it is.
I love Apollo, and I know she loves me.
I’ll never forget her as long as I live.
Run
Apollo
Graham’s not waiting by the lakeshore when I arrive today. Right away, my stomach turns queasy. Something is wrong. I’m leaving tomorrow, and we’re supposed to meet early so we can spend as much time together as possible. I put my back in the hammock and wait.
Papa always used to scold me about being more patient. He told me that whenever I felt the urge to do something, I needed to count to thirty and think about it.
So, I count to thirty. After I’m done, I sit on my hands and cross my legs under me and do it again. I close my eyes and try to listen for sounds of him approaching. A minute later, I start walking back the way I came.
I don’t know in which direction Graham’s house is. He’s always already here when I get here, and for the last few days, he’s walked me home before heading back toward the town he lives in.
I close my eyes, and I try to picture Graham walking away from my house. I always run up and watch him every day from my telescope until he disappears into the cornfield.
He’s done it so many times that even when he’s not walking through it, there’s a little path. He told me that I’m not allowed to ever come that way. That his parents wouldn’t like it if he brought anyone home. But, I can’t leave without seeing him. And I know in my bones that he’s not coming.
I start back toward my house. Tante Isabel’s napping on the couch, and for once, I don’t mind that she doesn’t notice me. I run up the stairs, look through my telescope in the direction I see Graham disappear and find the little footpath he’s made through the cornfield and hurry down.
I don’t let myself think about getting lost or about snakes. I just pretend Graham is walking with me and I walk in a straight line, just like Graham does when we walk through the woods. Once, when I asked him how he knew his way around so well without a map or even clear-cut trails, he said, “The shortest distance between two places is a straight line. I just walk straight until I reach the end.”
And that’s what I do. I stay on the trail of broken leaves of corn. Their silky threads stick to the bottom of my shoes as I walk, and every few steps I have to dust them off because they make my steps less sure.
When the cornfield ends, I find myself standing in front of a high chain-link fence. I stick the toe of my sneakers into one of the big links, grab hold of one above me and start to climb. When I get to the top, I’m shaking, afraid of falling, afraid of what will happen when I get there. Worried that I might not get there at all. But I’m more afraid of what will happen if I don’t try to find him.
I swing my leg over and climb down the other side.
I stand in front of a forest that’s even denser than the one by the lake. I look to my left and then to my right. A few feet over, there’s a break in the trees. I walk over and find a narrow path cleared. I follow it and pray that nothing lives in these woods. When I step out of it, I almost sag with relief. I’m standing in a backyard of a small log cabin. I see Graham’s blue shorts hanging from the clothesline.
