Across The Sea of Stars

A girl lays on the lush green grass, pigtails splayed out to the sides of her head. She holds her arm outstretched, hand grasping an old, dirty teddy bear. The park’s lamp shines white light on her face, glistening on her lips and in her wide eyes. Her loose plaid blouse makes small waves in what little hot breeze there is.

         Above her, a world of the unknown. Dots of white cover the sky, spread out across horizons. The moon looms above the far line of her sight, still small and far away.

         “Where do you think she is?” Ara asks, turning to her bear. “She left a real long time ago.”

         She brings her free hand up, sliding it under her head. “Mommy said she’d be back by now, Mooch. Do you remember?”

         Ara sits up, shaking her head for a moment. “You know, Mooch, I asked Daddy when she’s coming back. Could you hear that? I asked him why Mommy wasn’t back yet, and he said she would be home soon. And then he told me, Go to bed. I think it was because I had school the next day… Mooch, I think I’m never going back to school.”

         Ara flops over onto her stomach. She lays with her face in the fresh grass, smelling the drops of rain that fell earlier. She could stay here forever if she wanted to; nobody would come to get her.

         She rests her arms in front of her so she can prop her chin up. “I think Daddy was lying. He said he just talked to her, but he did that ugly thing with his face. He made the same look when he told me he was sure Mommy would be safe. That’s his lying face.” Ara picks at the grass, pulling out blades one by one. “Hey, Mooch, do you think Daddy knows anything about what Mommy’s doing up there?”

         She reaches over, picking up the bear. She sits up with him in her arms.

         “Yeah,” Ara sighs, “me neither.”

         She stands up with the bear, and walks to the lamppost. She leans with her back against it. She taps her foot against the ground, holding Mooch by the arm, hanging him down helplessly. Ara groans.

         She holds the bear up with both hands right before her face. “Mooch,” she whispers, “why hasn’t Daddy come to find me?”

         Ara wipes her eyes. “I miss Mommy,” she sighs. “Do you think she misses me?”

         Ara grabs the bear’s ear, and starts running farther into the field. She reaches another lamppost and falls onto the ground under it. She pants for a minute, into the fresh-smelling soil. “Cover your ears, Mooch,” she mumbles into the grass.

         With her face pressed against the ground, Ara screams. She shrieks so loud that she’s surprised the lamp above her didn’t shatter. “Mommy forgot about me,” she sobs into the ground. “She’s never coming back! Stupid, stupid!”

         Ara presses herself up from the ground, grabbing her bear. “Come on, Mooch. Nobody cares about me. Daddy isn’t even trying to find me. I’m never going home, Mooch. We’ll live with the wolves, and bears like you.”

         Beyond the end of the park’s field, a line of trees begins. Ara makes her way towards it slowly, stomping the dirt of the ground out of its place.

         “I don’t even want to see Mommy anyways,” Ara whines. “She’s up in stupid space, looking for a new stupid planet. Like, what, Mooch? Is she trying to find Pluto? We already know the planets!”

         Ara tosses Mooch up and down as she walks. “Wait, Mooch, is Pluto a planet? I don’t even care… I don’t get what Mommy’s doing. I asked Daddy once, and he said she was saving us. What does that even mean? She’s been gone for years, Mooch. I bet she forgot me. She can’t save me if she doesn’t remember me.”

         As she walks, Ara swings her teddy bear back and forth. “Mooch,” she whispers, “do you know any swear words? I want to say a swear word. How about… um. I don’t know any.” She approaches the forest, and pauses before stepping into the trees.

         “It’s all right, you protect me, Mooch. I’ll protect you too. Don’t be scared.”

         Ara crosses into the woods. “What do you think Daddy’s doing?” she asks. “He’s probably asleep. I bet he has a bowl of ice cream melting in his lap, like he did last night. I bet the TV’s still on, playing one of those adult shows where they joke about things that aren’t funny. You know, Mooch, once they said the astronauts aren’t doing anything helpful.” Ara pauses and looks around, then whispers, “They said they’re getting lost in space.”

         Ara pauses between a few trees with needle leaves. She begins to spin in circles, hanging onto the bear in her left hand. When she stops spinning, she falls and laughs. The night sky shines through the branches above her, stars darting around silhouettes of leaves.

         “You know, Mooch, Mommy’s probably lost. That’s why she isn’t back yet. Unless… Maybe she did find a new planet, I don’t know. What do you think?”

         Ara rolls her eyes after a few seconds. “Mooch, don’t say that. Mommy’s fine.” She sniffles, resting her head back into the dry old leaves. “She’s fine,” she says again, more sharply.

         She stands up. “Let’s go, I’m getting tired. Mooch, do you have any bear friends we can stay with?” She waits. “Oh, okay. We’ll just find a tree, then. Come on.”

         Farther into the forest, Ara looks for somewhere to sleep. She yawns. “Hey, Mooch, do you know how to climb a tree?” She approaches one to inspect it. “I like this one. I’ll give you a head start.” Ara throws her bear into the branches above her.

         The first branch is low, so she can climb up easily. The branches get bigger near the top. She looks for Mooch, and climbs over to join him. She sits on a thick branch, with her back against the trunk, hugging her bear to her chest. “It’s a good thing it isn’t cold,” she whispers. “I wouldn’t be able to handle it.”

         Ara looks up at the sky. There are barely any more tree branches above her. “Look, Mooch,” she sighs. “Look at all those stars. What do you think they look like, up close?”

         A shooting star crosses the sky. It’s brilliant, large and white, and lined with purple. “I wish Mommy would come back,” she says, stroking her bear’s arm.

         “You know, Mooch,” Ara says, louder this time, “maybe Mommy did find a planet. I don’t know how she would do that, but wouldn’t it be cool?”

     Ara stretches out her legs along the branch. “What if she really found another world? Nobody has found a good one yet, though, Mooch. Earth is all we have. They say we don’t even have it for long.”

         In the distance, a siren sounds. “What is that?” Ara whispers. “Is there a fire?” Ara stays silent as the sirens grow closer. She stays silent, until the noise stops in the same direction as the park. “I wonder what that is,” she sighs. “Well, whatever.”

         She picks up her bear, and holds him above her head, facing the sky. “See those stars?” she asks. “Mommy’s by one of them. I wonder if she’s thinking about me. Mooch, is she thinking about me?”

         Ara brings the bear back to her chest. “I miss her, Mooch. I miss her more than I missed her before. More than yesterday or last year. I miss her more than I missed her when she left, years ago.”

         She lowers her mouth to the bear’s ear, “She’s been gone for too long. It must mean she found something, right?”

         With one hand, Ara reaches up above her. She begins to pick at the bark, feeling it flake onto her head. “What do you think it’s like?” she asks. “I bet everything is purple. Or blue. Maybe, on Mommy’s new world, we can fly. Maybe there are already people who live there. Maybe, Mooch, there are tons and tons of bears like you. Maybe we’ll get to live underground. Or in the sky! What do you think, Mooch?”

         Ara lets her hand down. She squeezes Mooch tight to her body, burying her face into his head.

         There are faraway voices, that Ara knows all too well. As they get closer, she can hear what they say. “Frank, I know. The kid goes missing all the time.”

         “See? I told you, there are footprints.”

         “Yeah, I see. She’s in here somewhere. Come on, keep up. We don’t want her to get eaten or anything, let’s go.”

         Ara doesn’t move, keeping her head stuffed into her teddy bear. “Mooch, I don’t want to go home,” she whispers. “I don’t. I want to see Mommy. I want to be with her, in space, and I want to live in the sky of her new planet. I go home every time, Mooch. I don’t want to go home.”

         The footprints and the voices get louder. Ara leans her head back against the tree trunk, clutching the bear tightly. She hears them below her.

         Ara gazes into the stars, at the moon, and at the darkness in between. She tries to imagine where Mommy is. She tries to imagine what Mommy’s doing. Ara always complains about Mommy forgetting her, and she worries that Mommy won’t remember when she comes back. But Ara knows. Ara knows she remembers, and it hurts more that way.

         The stars shine with a glow that’s new to her. They dazzle her, dancing in the sky. Ara wants to be a star. She wants to be another white dot in the sea of space. She wants to be closer to Mommy.

         The footsteps and the voices pass below her. She’s frozen, stiller than a rock, facing the sky.

         The people pass. They move farther and farther behind her. As the voices fade out, she can hear them calling her name. She still doesn’t move. She doesn’t let her grip on Mooch go, or let her head fall to the side.

         A single tear, burning like a fire, slides down her cheek. She does not move.

         “Mooch,” she whispers, in a quavering voice, “I’ll wait here forever.”

         Ara can’t see her, but she knows she’s there. Even as her vision fogs up, and the stars and the sky blur together, she doesn’t budge. She stays frozen, waiting for Mommy to come back with news of a new world. She’ll wait there forever. She’ll never take her eyes off the stars.