The Stars Below Me

Some people might think country living is boring, what with the wide-open spaces and the big piles of hay. But except for the roosters waking me at the first sign of the sun on the horizon, I love it here. In the fields with my telescope, I can see the craters on the moon and the rings of Saturn. The stars are so far away, it can take millions of years for their light to reach us. Whenever I look up, I’m looking into the past. I travel through time without leaving my backyard!

How cool is that?

The problem is, Dad just got some big job on a newspaper, and now we’re moving to New York City. Mom grew up in the city and is so excited about the move she’s practically glowing.

I am not glowing.

I’ve lived in this house every day of my life. I’ve gone to school with the same kids since kindergarten. The fact that I’ll still have the stars in New York is the only thing keeping me from freaking out. Dad promised that our apartment will have a balcony for my telescope. He also promised I wouldn’t have any trouble making friends.

I doubt that one. Kids in the city are cool. They grow up next to famous people, and they know what to wear for every occasion. I like looking at the stars and growing big pumpkins. I’m in the 4-H club. I even like math. I don’t think I’m going to be very popular.

When I finally decide to go to bed, it’s late. I drift in and out of sleep all night, the strange sounds startling me. At my old home, I’d hear the occasional animal baying at the moon, but here there are rattling pipes, neighbors shutting doors, the wail of sirens. It takes a long time for morning to come. When it finally does, I lie there waiting for the roosters that never crow. Instead, Mom sticks her head in.

“You have a guest,” she says, beaming.

I sit up so quickly I get a head rush. “Eta?”

“Who? Oh, right. No, of course not, honey. Her name is Chloe.” Of course it wasn’t Eta. Rubbing my eyes, I ask, “Who’s Chloe?”

“Chloe’s the daughter of an old friend of mine. They live in the building. Hurry and get dressed.”

Standing in the living room next to my telescope, I find a short, thin girl with brown curly hair. She’s wearing a sundress with yellow daisies. I feel a pang of homesickness for the daisies that used to grow on the edge of our field.

“Welcome to the city,” Chloe says, smiling. “Your mom was telling me you like astronomy. That’s, um, neat. I never knew anyone who had a telescope before.”

I feel my cheeks burn. Why did Mom have to tell her that? Now she knows I’m a geek, and I haven’t even opened my mouth yet.

“I have to go,” she says before I can even get a word in. “But maybe I’ll see you later?”

“Um, sure,” I reply.

“She seemed very nice, didn’t she?” Mom asks, closing the door “Mom, I know you want us to be friends, but she left the second she met me.”

“I’m sure it had nothing to do with you,” Mom replies. I’m not convinced.

I'm already getting squirrelly from being cooped up inside, so I decide to go exploring. My parents make me promise not to leave the building. As though I’d have anywhere to go. I head downstairs to the one place I’ve seen so far that reminds me a little bit of home. 

The walls of the lobby are paneled in wood, and there are plants in every corner. There’s a fountain in the middle that actually has two small ducks in it. I plan to sit by it, close my eyes, and pretend to be on my favorite rock next to the brook that ran behind my old house. To my surprise, Chloe is already sitting there, a textbook open in her lap. She looks up as I pass by. Her eyes are red, and her cheeks are blotchy.

I’m not sure what I’m supposed to do. “Are you OK?” I ask.

She shakes her head. “I have a math test tomorrow. I’ve been studying all day, but I’m still going to fail.”

“I can help you,” I say softly.

Her face brightens. “Really?”

I nod and feel my cheeks burn again. “I’m pretty good at math.”

“Can you come up to my apartment after dinner?” she asks.

“OK.”

After dinner, I take the elevator up to Chloe’s apartment. I show her easy ways to remember the formulas. She catches on fast. We take a break for hot chocolate, which, I admit, does taste as good in the city. We even laugh a few times. I’m glad I found her by the fountain.

I keep catching Chloe glancing at the clock, though. “I should probably go,” I say.

“No, no,” she says. “In fact, I have a surprise for you. C’mon.” She leads me into the living room. “Your mom told me how sad you were that you can’t see the stars here, so I wanted to show you different kinds of stars. I was waiting till it got really dark.” She steps onto the balcony and I follow.

My breath catches in my throat. I knew the elevator was going up really high, but I didn’t realize what a difference it would make. Tiny lights glitter beneath us in every direction, in every color of the rainbow. They’re like a million stars, but I’m seeing them from above instead of below. “It’s . . . it’s amazing!” I say, exhaling.

“Over there,” she says, pointing to the left, “is Central Park and the natural history museum. It has an amazing planetarium. And over there is the Statue of Liberty. And there’s the Empire State Building. I know it’s not the same as exploring the stars, but we could have so much fun exploring the city together. I can teach you everything I know.”

Before I can tell her how wonderful that sounds, Chloe adds, “Plus, my uncle lives outside the city. You can come with us next month, if you want, and show me everything YOU know. About the real stars.”

I swallow hard. “I’d love to.”

She walks me out to the elevator and says, “Thanks again. I never looked at math that way before.”

“Thank you!” The elevator arrives and I step in. “Goodnight, Chloe.”

“’Night, Mara,” she says with a smile and a wave.

Hearing Chloe say goodnight is almost like hearing it from Eta. Except more real. I know Eta is still out there. But until I see her again, I get to explore the stars below me with a new friend.

How cool is that?