Finn drifted over to one of the bookshelves stacked with plastic tubes and read the label of one of them out loud. “Eta Piscium. 1 H, 31 M, 29… What do all these numbers mean?”
“They’re astronomical coordinates. You can open it. It’s just paper.”
Finn popped the top off the tube and slid out a roll of sheet music. She ran her fingers carefully along the handwritten notes. “This is a star?”
“Yes. I record as many of them as I can, so their songs don’t get lost.” There was a melancholy note in Ursula’s voice. “Obviously, there are too many stars to be able to do it for all of them, but if I can immortalize even a hundred, I’ll feel like I’ve done something worthwhile with my life.”
“That’s beautiful.” Finn gently rolled up the sheet music and placed it back in the tube. She turned back to Ursula and saw hesitation, like she had something to say but didn’t know how to begin. Finn spoke for her. “Our mom’s name wasn’t in the ledgers, was she?”
Ursula shook her head. “No Nora Wilder. It’s still possible she stayed here. Our records are a little spotty. I’m sorry. I really wanted to help.”
Finn could tell she was being sincere, so she smiled graciously despite the sinking feeling in her stomach. “It’s okay. Thanks for trying.”
“I hope you find her. I really do.” Then Ursula paused, thinking.“I know it’s not much of a consolation, but would you like to hear what they sound like tonight?” Ursula looked up through the glass ceiling at the stars.
“Sure.” Finn smiled meekly. She would have preferred to be alone at that moment, but didn’t want to insult their host, especially when she had taken the time to dig through old records for them.
While Ursula was setting up her keyboard on its stand, Finn tilted her head back to observe the stars glistening through the glass panes. Then all at once they blinked out of existence.
When the stars reappeared, they were different somehow.
She saw Orion, the hunter. Canis Major. In fact, she could name all the constellations in the sky that night.
Ursula could. This was her memory, not Finn’s.
Then. A note.
The only word she could think of to describe it wasshimmering.
It sounded like a sequined dress looks under stage lights; a tincture made of starlight dropped straight into the soft shells of her ears.
Another note joined the first, followed by another, then another.
Soon the whole sky was shimmering.
Then her eyes adjusted from the infinite blackness of space to the lamplight of Ursula’s observatory. Neither Ursula nor Zadie were there.
I must still be in the echo,Finn/Ursula thought.
Ursula’s memory wrestled a pencil into her hand. She began furiously scratching out notes on a piece of sheet music.
The door to the observatory opened.
Nic. Her wife’s mouth was moving, but all she heard was a loud ringing sound.
A flash of recognition on Nic’s face. She switched to sign language.
Finn/Ursula found herself signing back: I’LL BE DONE SOON. I JUST HAVE TO FINISH UP THIS PIECE.
OKAY. I LOVE YOU, Nic answered, then closed the door.
As the lock clicked shut, Finn was jolted back to the present. Both Ursula and Zadie were staring at her. “What did you see?” Zadie asked.
The ringing in her ears was gone, but it still took Finn a few seconds to find her voice. When she did, it was unsteady. Her eyes, she realized, were wet. “The stars. I heard their music. It was… I’ve never heard anything that beautiful.”
Ursula studied her for a moment. “You saw something else, didn’t you?”
Finn nodded solemnly.