The Same Stuff as Stars

“I know, Bernie. I know. But people can’t always keep their promises. Even when they want to.” She remembered too late that she had just promised that Mama would come home soon. “But Mama will come home soon. That’s a really true promise. I promise you.”

He looked up at her suspiciously. “How do you know it’s true?”

“I just know it, okay? Here.” She looked around for a tissue box and, seeing none, dug into her jeans pocket and found a tissue mostly in shreds. She wiped his runny nose with it the best she could. He didn’t resist as she finished dressing him.

***

“Now what?” asked Bernie as they stood outside in the bright sunshine of the yard, looking over at piles of junk and the old broken-down shed. It was a good question.

“Bernie, we are on a make-your-own adventure.”

“What’s that?”

“Well, I read about it in this book at school. You find yourself someplace weird and you, well, you just look around and decide what to do next. Then what you decide leads you into a big adventure.”

“I don’t want to play that,” he said, sticking his thumb back into his mouth.

“Okay. Then I’ll just go off and play by myself.” Angel started toward the pasture. In the daylight she could see that it lay beyond what had been once a rail fence. Most of the rails lay rotting on the ground. In daytime there would be nothing to see in the pasture, no stars, no planets, but it was safer to walk around in than this junk-filled yard.

“Wait!” he said. She turned.

Bernie was running toward her in a zigzag pattern around the junk, dragging poor Grizzle in the dirt behind him.

“Why don’t we leave Grizzle here while we go on our adventure?”

“No!” he said. “Grizzle would hate that. He’d be scared.”

“Okay, but don’t drag him around, okay? He’s getting filthy.”

Bernie looked down at the bear. “He’s too heavy to carry.”

“Well, let me carry him, then.”

Reluctantly, he handed over the bear. “You won’t ever leave him, will you?”

“No, I promise.” That word again. Luckily, he let it pass.

The pasture was much smaller than it had seemed to her last night. There were no cows or sheep in it, as there had been in the pastures they passed yesterday. The grass was stubby, and the occasional prickle bush dotted the hilly ground. There was no sign that the farm on Morgan Farm Road existed anymore. There wasn’t even a barn. Just the old house, the junk-filled yard, the broken-down trailer, and the small, empty field, which was beautiful at night but poor and scrabbly in daylight. On the far side of the field there was a wood, but she didn’t feel adventurous enough to lead Bernie and Grizzle into the woods. What if they got lost? They’d never be able to find their way back.

“I don’t like it here,” Bernie said, reaching for Grizzle. “There’s nothing to do and nothing to eat and nobody to play with. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing.” He rubbed his cheek against the blue plush.

“Sure there is, Bernie. I choose the adventure of going into the yard and trying to discover hidden treasure.”

“What hidden treasure?”

“In those piles of junk in the yard there lies a wonderful treasure, just waiting for you and me to discover it.”

“You’re lying!”

“Okay Go on back into the house. I’ll go on this adventure all by myself.”

“I don’t want to go in the house.”

“Suit yourself.” Angel headed back to the yard. He followed her, trailing Grizzle along behind him. She pretended not to see.

The chief junk pile was a small hill of rusting metal. She guessed it was discarded farm machinery of some sort. She was afraid to touch it. You got terrible diseases if you cut yourself on rusty metal, didn’t you? Lockjaw or something. “This is the wrong pile for treasure,” she said as Bernie caught up with her.

“How do you know?”