Every Soul a Star Read online

  “It usually comes back on after a few minutes,” I assure her. “Usually. But sometimes we have to get someone out here to fix the line and that can take a few days. Or if it’s in the winter, a few weeks since the roads can get impassable.”

  We leave them open-mouthed, and run back to the other cabin to get the shoe box and the bug book. We slip back in and sit casually on one of the beds while they tinker with their machines, trying to get them to work again. When their backs are turned, I empty the box on the floor, then push it under the bed.

  Two minutes later, Bree’s mom screams! She jumps up, slapping her hands on her legs and arms. She points down at a bug about a half-inch big. Bree and I calmly walk over to look at it. Bree gives a little shudder, but only I notice it. “Let me see,” I say, lifting the book off the bed. I open it up and pretend to be looking for something. Bree’s mom leans in and then grimaces when she sees all the drawings of bugs. “Kenny or I always make sure to have this book with us,” I explain. “That way we can tell if a bug is poisonous or not.”

  Her mom’s eyes open wide. “Are there a lot of poisonous bugs around here?”

  Wondering how far I dare take this, I say, “Well, besides the occasional scorpion, we’ll sometimes get fire ants and black widows. You’ll wanna watch out for the brown recluse spiders too. Oh, they’re really nasty. They’ll turn your whole leg gangrene.”

  Bree’s mom is now pale. Her dad says, “I thought scorpions and fire ants were warm-weather creatures.”

  I shrug. “Must be the gulf stream that brings ’em.” I have no idea what that means, but I heard someone say it once. He seems to buy it though.

  “C’mon, Ally,” Bree says. “Let’s go join Kenny and Mel at the stream.”

  “Speaking of the stream,” I say to Bree’s parents. “You’re gonna find some way to block that off, right? I mean, if you have a child who sleepwalks, a stream is very dangerous. Kids can drown in an inch of water, you know.” Bree had supplied me that last fact.

  Her parents look at each other.

  I continue, on a roll now. “Actually, there are tons of dangers here for someone walking around in the middle of the night. Bears and fallen logs and beehives and —”

  “Enough,” Bree’s dad says. “We get the picture. We’ll figure something out.”

  Bree’s mom jumps and shrieks again as another bug crosses her path. I hold out the book. “Would you like to borrow this?”

  She shakes her head repeatedly. I shrug and tuck it under my arm. Bree tells them she’ll see them later, and we walk out of the cabin. Bree stays in front while I go around and plug the electrical socket back in. I hear Bree’s dad say, “We’re back on!”

  We walk quickly back toward the main house. When we’re far enough away Bree stops and hugs me. “You were great! You should be an actress someday! Forget about finding comets!”

  I laugh. It feels good to laugh again. And this time when Bree stops hugging me I don’t stand quite as stiff. I’m getting used to being hugged by virtual strangers.

  “You really had me convinced with all that stuff. Like it would really take a few weeks to get the power back on. Classic!”

  “Um, I wasn’t kidding about that one.”

  A look of panic flits across Bree’s face.

  “But don’t worry, you can still dry your hair. We have a generator in the main house and in the kitchen at the pavilion.”

  “And the roads? You really get trapped here for weeks?”

  I nod, realizing how it must sound to an outsider. “But it doesn’t feel that way, honest. And there’s usually really good seeing on winter nights, so we don’t mind.”

  “There’s usually what?”

  I forgot she’s a total astronomy newbie. “Good seeing. That’s the expression for when the air is really still. It means you can see the stars better. If it’s poor seeing, that means the air is hazy and it can be hard to focus your telescope on planets and stuff.”

  Bree sighs. “Our plan REALLY better work.”

  We’re almost at the office now, and I can hear both of my parents in there, which is what we were hoping for. “Okay, you ready?”

  She nods.

  We plant ourselves on the top stair of the porch in front of the office, the same place I first saw Bree. Loud enough to be heard clearly through the open door, Bree says, “So do you think you’ll go out for softball, or gymnastics?”

  “Isn’t all that expensive? Like uniforms and stuff?”

  “Oh yes! It’s all very expensive, but so is living in the ’burbs. My parents had to take out a second mortgage just to pay for all our activities.”

  Neither of us knew what a second mortgage was, but Bree said she saw it on a commercial about people needing money.

  Inside, my parents have stopped talking. “But don’t worry,” Bree continues, a little louder. “Your parents won’t be worrying too much about money. They’ll have a lot bigger things to worry about.”

  “Like what?” I ask, hoping my voice doesn’t sound rehearsed.

  “Like drugs of course! The drug problem in middle schools today is rampant! You’ll be lucky to make it down the hall on your first day without someone asking if you want to buy. And Kenny, holy cow! The elementary schools are even worse!”

  “Wow!” I say. “That’s terrible!”

  “And if you can manage to stay away from the drugs, you’ll have to worry about the gangs. Every school has them, and they always pounce on the new kids. How do you feel about tattoos?”

  “Tattoos?”

  “Sure! All the kids have to get them. Melanie and I have two each. Our parents don’t know of course, because they’re dangerous. You could actually die from the dirty needles. But if you don’t get them, no one will let you in their clique. You don’t want to sit alone in the huge cafeteria every day, do you?”

  I shake my head. Bree nudges me with her knee. “No, I do not!” I exclaim.

  My parents bang through the door. They look upset. “Oh,” I say, pretending to be surprised. “I didn’t know you were in there.” We’d pretty much reached the end of our banter anyway.

  “Bree, do you know where your parents are?” my mom says. “We’d like to have a talk with them.”

  Bree can’t hide her smile. “Last I saw them they were in their cabin, working. I honestly don’t know how they’re going to keep this place going since they’re working all the time. Wouldn’t surprise me if they had to close it down.”

  “Close it down?” my father repeats. “But they can’t do that. It’s in our agreement.”

  This girl is good! We hadn’t even practiced that last part.

  Without another word, my parents stalk off toward the cabins. When they round the bend, Bree and I jump up and I’m the one to hug her this time. “You were brilliant!”

  “Thank you, thank you very much,” Bree says, bowing and curtsying. Her long hair shimmers like the stream does when the sun hits it. Maybe she’s right and I should put some effort—any effort—into how I look.

  “You were kidding though, right? About all the drugs and tattoos and stuff?”

  She laughs. “Yes, I promise.”

  That’s a relief! I don’t think I’d be very good with needles.

  “What are you guys up to?” a familiar voice asks. I turn to see Ryan, followed a few feet behind by that boy Jack from the pavilion last night.

  Ryan is talking to me, but looking at Bree. I’m not surprised. “Bree, this is my friend Ryan, he comes up here every summer for a few weeks.”

  Bree holds out her hand like she’s a grown-up. Ryan eagerly shakes it. I wait for Ryan to introduce Jack, but he’s too smitten with Bree. I glance over at Jack, expecting to find him looking at Bree too, but instead he’s looking at me. When he catches my eye he looks away and kicks at the dirt with his shoe. I don’t have much practice identifying teenage boy behavior, but I think that means he’s shy. Having grown up welcoming new people to the campground all the time, I’ve never been shy be