Star Goddess

It’s the last day of school and Eleanor is day dreaming. She sits on her knees in her classroom chair, chin resting in her hands, her eyes unfocused. A soft stream of sunlight pours onto her desk.

Someone calls her name.

She perks up out of her daze. A dozen blinking eyes stare in her direction. Her classmates are giggling.

“Eleanor,” the teacher repeats her name. “It’s your turn.”

Faintly remembering what her class was doing, she turns absent-mindedly towards a random page in the book. They were talking about summer, the science of seasons, given a list of birds and plants for them to identify over the long break, and other ideas for them to try when they finally leave the cement walls they call their classroom. The teacher’s suggestions were inspiring, leaving Eleanor dreaming of all the fun things she was going to do with her summer break.

Unfortunately, class had not been dismissed yet.

She begins reading a random paragraph from the science textbook, and the entire classroom breaks into laughter. Her cheeks burn red. Unsure of what to do, she keeps reading, causing her classmates to laugh even harder. Apparently, she was reading something completely off-topic.

The teacher waits for them to be quiet. Eleanor waits for her teacher to defend her from her classmates, as she is often the laughing target, but this time, she doesn’t.

“If you want to read about constellations, Eleanor, then that is exactly what we will do,” she says sternly. The classroom groans in unison.

Clearing her voice, Eleanor continues to read out loud.

“Sirius is the brightest star in the night sky. Part of the dog constellation ‘Canis Major’, it rises before sunrise starting in early July. Romans believed this star caused hot weather, thus, giving us the name, ‘the dog days of summer’.”

Eleanor clears her throat again, before starting the next paragraph.

“Myths and legend: An ancient tribe believed in a Star goddess that created animals of the night. It is said that if you stand underneath the brightest star in the night sky during the dog days of summer, the Star goddess will appear and transform you into an animal. The legend has been passed down through generations of the tribe.”

A silence washes over the room.

“An interesting subject, Eleanor, I’m glad we brought it up. Another activity I want you to all try this summer is stargazing. I’ll pass out a list of constellations for you to check off. When we come back together in the fall, we can discuss the ones we found.”

Printed worksheets are passed back. The teacher explains a parent or supervisor is needed to complete this assignment, but Eleanor is back in her thoughts, her head in the clouds.

Elation follows the last bell of the school day. Eleanor clutches her books tight against her chest, skipping down the sidewalk.

Her black cat, Luna, emerges from a bush. Eleanor bends down to greet her.

“Hi Luna,” she sings to her. Luna rubs her cheek against her fingers. The cat waits for her after school, everyday. Luna trots close behind Eleanor and she skips home.

She slows down her skip as she approaches a group of girls.

It’s Meredith and her friends. Circled together like a herd of wildebeests, they whisper amongst each other. Eleanor slows her skip down to a crawl. She tries to walk past unnoticed, when inevitably, someone shoves her from the side, her books flying everywhere. Her hands come away from the cement bloody and scraped.

“That’s for giving us more homework over the summer,” Meredith sneers.

Luna dashes behind a tree, her tail poofing and ears tucked.

Eleanor reaches for her study sheets, but it’s hopeless. The sidewalks are damp with puddles. What’s left is an inky blotch of soggy paper.

“Ooo, no homework and no friends. What-ever will you do this summer?” Meredith taunts. They walk away, leaving her to gather her scattered items.

Eleanor salvages what little she can. She stuffs her wet books into her backpack, tears welling in her eyes. She runs back to the school, hoping to catch her teacher before she leaves for summer break. The door to her classroom is still open. She peeks her head inside, but her teacher is nowhere to be seen.

Tip-toeing across the tiles, she swipes the science textbook they were reading aloud from earlier. She grins.

She knew exactly what she was going to do this summer.

Crayons, paper, and a peanut butter and jelly sandwich later, she finishes her diagram of the night sky. She includes her swing set, trampoline, and corn field for reference. She asks her Mom if they could go to the library.

Reluctantly taking her and her three younger brothers, her Mom almost tells Eleanor to put back some of the books she brought to the front for checkout. She counts fifteen in total.

“I’m doing some research,” Eleanor explains. The librarian checks them out, one by one, the sound of the scanner music to Eleanor’s ears.

The following weeks are spent pouring over the pages of her books. She reads every book there is about ancient legends, placing sticky notes in the spots referencing the Star goddess. Along the way, Eleanor reads about trolls, fairies, dragonflies, spells, and woodland creatures. She weaves dandelions into her braid, and places sprigs of rosemary throughout the house. She asks for tea with her breakfast, instead of her usual orange juice. Her Mother discovers a bundle of rosemary behind the toaster, and decides to investigate her daughter.

“What have you been reading, honey?” Eleanor is humming a tune while sipping her green tea.

“About the Star goddess.” she says, nonchalantly.

“Oh,” her Mother says, speaking to her as if she were a toddler again. “And who is she?”

Eleanor scoops more sugar into her tea. “She’s a legend, so everyone thinks she’s fake. But she sounds so cool, I hope she’s real.”

Her Mother bites her tongue. Not wanting to ruin her daughter’s spirit, she leaves her to her imagination. At least this latest obsession has her eating more fruit, unlike the time she wanted to meet the Cookie Monster.

On a morning in mid-July, after a bowl of porridge and cup of english breakfast tea, heavily sweetened with brown sugar and honey, Eleanor and Luna set out for the meadow, her backpack filled with books and pencils, and a basket carrying lunch for herself and her cat. She sits underneath an old oak tree, the afternoon heat causing her to perspire.

A meadowlark sings in the tall grass. Luna darts after it, leaving Eleanor to her research.

Pillowy white puffs lazily hang in the sky. The sun reaches its peak, and Eleanor feels a pit in her stomach. She pops open a can of chicken for Luna. She snacks on strawberries and honey cakes, after reading in one of her books it’s the kind of food fairies prefer.

Her shadow stretches long and thin. She readjusts herself to capture the golden light on her page. Crickets are singing, and the mosquitoes begin feeding. Eleanor finds herself slapping her shins. She closes the last book, stretching long in the grass. She should walk home before it gets dark.

“Luna! Come here kitty!” she calls out. She’s nowhere to be seen.

Twilight is soft and diffused. Luna’s absence leaves her feeling melancholy. She throws her backpack over her shoulder, when the ground beneath her begins to vibrate. A rocky trail of stones appears before her, leading into the forest. Her arms prickle with goosebumps.

Could this be the star goddess? One of her books mentioned magical paths leading to her presence. Is this what the book meant? Eleanor gapes at the oddness of the stones, smooth, round, and slate gray. Fireflies dance around the path.

With one step at a time, she leaps from stone to stone. Twilight fades quickly into night.

“Luna, there you are!” she exclaims. The black cat re-emerges from behind a berry bush, her tail large and poofy.

“What’s wrong?” Eleanor asks softly.

Luna dashes forward, following the stone path. Eleanor chases after her. She stumbles over some rocks, tripping and splitting her knee. A glowing water fall, blue, sparkly, and dazzling, appears at the end of the trail.

She watches her cat in bewilderment. Luna dips her paw into the water, her fur emerging blue and sparkly. The water is less liquid than it is thick and pudding-like. Luna and Eleanor look up. An opening in the canopy of trees reveals Sirius, the brightest star in the night sky.

A voice, as old as water itself, echoes through the trees.

Eleanor watches as Luna begins to sparkle. She transforms into the silhouette of a young woman, her hair adorned with golden flowers, her arms draped in wisps of star dust. The air grows still.

“Luna…what are you?” Eleanor whispers.

Luna, or this woman, stares less at her, but into her, with primordial eyes.

“My name is Silvia,” her voice echoes with the strength of thunder.

“Silvia,” Eleanor repeats. “Who are you?”

She speaks slowly, with certainty. “I am the deepest parts of the lake, the fastest channels of the river, and the fog that settles in the morning.” She pauses, and gestures to the sky above. “I am the blackest skies and the grayest of clouds. I am the line that blurs between dusk and dawn. The line where the shore kisses the rocky sand. I am everything all at once, yet nothing at all.”

“Are you the Star goddess?” Eleanor inquires.

“I am not human.”

“You are my cat.”

Silvia gives a haunting stare.

“Since the dawn of time, my woods have become home to many creatures, big and small. They draw life from my fruits, and give life back to my murky depths, once their bodies have withered into the dirt and replenished my nutritional needs.”

Eleanor feels as though she is standing in the vacuum of space. She tries to breathe, but finds no air to fill her lungs.

“Do you turn people into animals?”

Silvia’s yellow eyes burn amber. “That is a myth,” she spits. “I am not what humans have described me as. Their so-called ‘Star goddess’ and made up legend has tainted my very being.” Her fiery eyes diminish. She cries the same sparkly blue water as the stream.

Eleanor steps back, giving her space. A pang of guilt surges in her chest. She wants to take her backpack full of make-believe stories and dump them in the stream.

“How did you become my pet? My Mom told me we adopted Luna at the animal shelter.”

“Lies!” she exclaims between her sobs. “Yet another made-up story by a human. Your Mother could not explain my presence. I found you, and have watched over you ever since.”

“Why me?”

Silvia’s tears dissipate and float. They become pinpricks of white light as they touch the night sky.

“I knew you would be the one to re-tell my story. To rewrite my legend.”

A small smile escapes Eleanor’s lips. She approaches Silvia as an old friend, hugging her tightly. Silvia hesitates, before wrapping her arms around the little girl. The blue waterfall evaporates.

It’s the first day of school and Eleanor stands at the front of the classroom, presenting her speech. While Meredith and her group of friends talked for twenty minutes about their vacation to Europe, Eleanor describes the tale of a mystical goddess named Silvia.

“She keeps the balance between night and day, and ensures the animals have enough food to forage for winter.” Eleanor recites happily, referencing her journal she filled with details. “She is kind and wise. Her hair is the color of moonlight. She can speak over a thousand languages.”

Meredith and her friends begin to chuckle. The teacher shoots them a warning look.

“Thank you, Eleanor, for that….um - interesting speech. Very descriptive.”

Eleanor nods and walks back to her desk, catching a glimpse outside. A black cat hovers near a bush, and gives her the slightest flick of her tail. Eleanor smiles back.

“Hey Eleanor, did you spend all summer at your Grandma’s house or something?” Meredith teases her. But Eleanor doesn’t hear. She watches out the window, her chin resting in her hands, day dreaming yet again of all the fun things she was going to do this fall.