The Stars Remember

The night air was warm and it tugged at the hem of Lila’s sweater as she climbed up the familiar hill behind her grandfather’s house. The crickets sang in the tall grass and the scent of the wildflowers drifted to the edge of the orchard. She stopped at the top of the hill and caught her breath from the climb.

The sky above was just beginning to fade from the dusty blue to soft indigo. The stars were winking like old friends. A year had passed since her grandpa passed away.

He used to take her stargazing every summer as soon as she got out of school for vacation. They would sit on an old purple blanket with a thermos of hot chocolate between them. He’d point out different constellations with an old metal flashlight and tell her stories about each one.

Orion the Hunter, Andromeda the Princess and Cassiopeia always upside down. Lila’s pride shining like the crown above her head.

“Look up Lila.” He would say. “The stars remember everything.”

Now she laid on the grass on the purple blanket and pulled out a thermos she filled herself this time. Her fingers reached for the old metal flashlight beside her which she had found in the shed. She gripped it tightly.

The sky darkened and the stars multiplied as if someone had spilled a jar of glitter across black velvet. She found Orion first. She remembered the belt, the sword and the proud shoulders. Then Cassiopeia is shaped like a crooked “W.” Lila leaned back and took a deep breath waiting for the stories to come.

A twig snapped behind her.

She sat straight up.

At the edge of the clearing she saw a figure of a young man around her age or a little older with a camera bag slug around his neck and a small notebook in his hand.

“Oh, sorry. I didn’t mean to scare you.” He said, raising his hands slightly. “I didn’t think anyone else came up here.”

“I could say the same.” Lila said. “This is my grandfather’s land.”

The man blinked. “Was your grandfather Walter Ambrose?”

“Yes, did you know him?”

He took a step forward holding his notebook awkwardly. “I met him last summer. I was visiting my aunt who lives next door. He let me use his telescope. We talked about Presedis. He said he had been watching them since he was ten.”

Lila smiled. “That sounds like him.”

“I’m Theo.” He said. “I came up here to take pictures of the sky. This is the best view for miles.”

She hesitated and then moved over on the blanket.

“You can stay. I was just remembering.”

Theo sat down slowly while adjusting his camera bag. “Tonight should be clear skies and no moon.”

They watched in silence as the sky darkened. A satellite silently moved over their heads. Then like a whispered secret, a streak of light crossed over the sky, a shooting star.

“Did you see that?” Theo whispered.

Lila nodded. “Make a wish.”

“I did.” He said. “You?”

She hesitated. “I don’t want to wish for anymore.”

Theo glanced at her and then he began turning his camera and adjusting the tripod legs.

“Do you know the story of lyre?” He asked.

“The lyre? Like the instrument?”

“Yes, it is one of the smallest constellations. But it’s got Vega in it, one of the brightest stars in the sky.” He pointed to it.

“There.”

Lila followed his hand and she spotted the icy-blue water star.

“It’s tied to the story. Of Orpheus,” He continued. “He played music so beautifully even the stones cried. When he lost the woman he loved and he played until the gods gave him a second chance to get her back from the underworld. But, he messed up.”

He looked back.” Lila said, recalling the myth. “Too soon.”

Theo nodded. “But after he died the gods put his lyre in the sky. So even though he lost her music never disappeared.”

Lila looked up at the sky at Vega thinking about her grandpa. Maybe that is what he meant when he said that the stars always remember.

“Did he ever tell you his theory?” She asked.

Theo smiled. “You mean the one about how every person gets a star when they die?”

Lila laughed. “Yes, that one. I used to think that he was kidding.”

“I kinda liked it.” Theo said. “It makes the night feel less empty.”

Lila felt a strange kind of warmth spread throughout her body. It felt like she was embraced with a warm memory. Like her grandpa was there.

Theo snapped a few more pictures. The constellations looked like dots but somehow seeing them felt sacred.

“Thanks for letting me stay.” Theo said.

“Thanks for reminding me about the stars and about what they mean in the sky.” She replied.

As the night sky deepened they shared more stories. Lila told him about the time her grandpa tried to make a make-shift observatory using cardboard and duct tape. She laughed thinking about it.

Theo told her about how his mom used to play the piano when he was little and they used to look at the stars together and how he thought that the stars were musical. When he looked at them for years he expected them to play music like his mom did on the piano.

Eventually they got colder as the cold night crept into their bones. Lila poured the last of the hot chocolate from the thermos and passed it to Theo.

“I don’t think that I will ever stop missing him.” She said.

“Maybe you don’t have to. Maybe he will always be shining a light on you from the sky. Maybe he is your own personal shining star and when you look up at night he will always be there.” Theo said.

They packed up the blanket and folded it carefully. Theo offered to carry the flashlight but Lila shook her head.

“I think I should hold on to it for next time.” She said.

As they walked down the hill the stars overhead continued to light the way in timeless quiet.

Lila looked back one more time. Vega still burned brightly. She imagined she could hear her grandpa’s voice saying, “Look up. The stars remember everything.”

And for the first time in a long time she smiled.