How could she comfort the old woman? Miss Liza had sat beside her and told her she was crowned with glory—but Angel wasn’t Miss Liza. She didn’t have the words to give Grandma. Finally, she said the only thing she could think to say.
“I’m still here, Grandma.”
Grandma sat up a little and opened her eyes. “Yes, you are, ain’t you?” She looked at Angel and nodded her head. “Can’t be all bad if you got yourself an angel. Kinda bossy angel”—she glanced skyward—“but I guess I better not complain.” She heaved herself out of the chair. “I’m going to bed. If the phone rings—”
“I’ll get it. Don’t worry.”
SEVENTEEN
Galileo Galilei
“Oh, this is a good night for viewing,” the star man said, without even moving his eye from the telescope. “Come here.” Angel went close enough to hear his breathing, which was raspy in the chill night air. He ought to dress more warmly and wear a hat. He ought, for heaven sakes, to stop smoking, but she might as well save her breath. He wouldn’t listen.
“Now find Polaris.”
It was easy for Angel to find the North Star now. Why had it seemed so hard last summer? You find the Big Dipper and let the two stars on its outer side point you straight to the North Star. There.
“Okay, look.” His right arm swung upward beside her ear. “Up, up, almost straight up.” She followed the sweep of his arm. “Can you see it? That little fuzzy patch up there? That’s the Andromeda Galaxy. Want to see it in the telescope now?”
She nodded, too dazed to speak. She’d read about it in her book, bu
t now she was actually seeing it. Andromeda! A whole other galaxy, a million—no, two million—light-years from earth, with a hundred billion stars swarming around inside it. She gasped at the beauty, the glory of the night.
And then the sharp pain of the days cut in. Bernie might as well be two million light-years away. “My brother’s gone,” she said.
“Oh?”
“My mom went and picked him up at his school and just took him away without telling me or Grandma.”
He didn’t say anything at first. Maybe he didn’t care. She’d never mentioned Bernie to him before. He probably didn’t even know Bernie existed.
“How’s the old lady taking it?”
“Grandma?”
“Yeah.”
“She’s really upset. She and Bernie were good friends. They had a lot of fun together.”
“He must have been good for her. Too bad he’s gone.” He took a pack of cigarettes out of his pocket and stuck one in his mouth. “I know I shouldn’t,” he said, as though to keep her from objecting, “but at least it’s a legal addiction.” He lit up and inhaled.
She watched the smoke coming from his mouth. Grownups had no sense. They didn’t care what was good for them or bad for them. How did they ever get to be in charge of the world? “I got to go in,” she said. “I haven’t done my homework.”
“I’m sorry about your brother,” he said. “Your mom shouldn’t have done that, should she?”
He didn’t know how to say things the way Miss Liza did, but she could tell he wanted to help.
“No,” Angel said, “she shouldn’t have. Sometimes she doesn’t figure things out right. She tries, but she just can’t figure stuff out.”
“I know how that is,” he said. “I’ve done a lot of bad figuring myself.” His voice sounded sad and tired. She wished she knew how to help him.
“It means a lot to me,” she said, “you showing me the stars.”
“It means a lot to me,” he said, “you wanting to see them.”
***
Every day when she got off the bus she hoped Verna’s pickup would be parked by the house. Surely Verna would come back. She had never been able to manage Bernie on her own. She’d always left most of the responsibility to Angel. Bernie was, well, difficult to manage in the best of situations, and it was hard to imagine Verna in the best of situations. She’s changed. She’s turned into a really good mother. She always loved Bernie. She always liked him better than me. Maybe I was the problem. Maybe without me butting in, she and Bernie are getting along just fine. The thought was no comfort.