A Stellar Assignment
Note: this story appears by special permission
from the Editor-in-Chief of
Something Good To Read
Note: this story appears by special permission
from the Editor-in-Chief of
Something Good To Read
In a quiet English town, in the small hours of night, a young man named Stan crept quietly through the woods. He came to a clearing and stopped. By the light of the stars he peered around to get his bearings. He went over his plan again. Soon, the pearls would be his.
“Would you like some water, Annie, before I tuck you in?”
“Yes, please.”
The woman patted the little girl on the shoulder. “I just hope we didn’t wake up your brother.”
Annie blew her nose. “Once he’s asleep, he won’t wake up. He slept through that thunderstorm last week...”
“Well, good for him. I couldn’t sleep through that, either. Why the angels had to pick our little town for bowling practice, I’ll never know.”
Annie giggled a little, and the woman stood and smiled at her. “I’ll get you some water, now, then you try to sleep.”
The woman went out into the hall, glancing back at Annie. Finally there was the slightest smile on the little tear-worn face. The woman shook her head as she went into the bathroom. Death was never easy to explain, never easy to bear, though as one lived and saw it more often, it somehow changed in appearance. But for an eleven-year-old girl and a boy of not quite ten, to see their mother in death... Thank God their father was here for them, and that they had faith. And, she thought, thank God she was there too – she was just a new neighbor, but she had fallen in love with the two children as they played in the yard. Perhaps now she could merit the title “Aunt Rose” they had bestowed on her. She sighed as she filled a cup with water. If only Annie could sleep, she thought.
* * *
Annie looked out into the dark room. Aunt Rose had kissed her, and turned off the light, and closed the door. The house was quiet, though, since Daddy was at work. He was supposed to have off, but the hospital had called him in because the other doctor was sick. She thought how funny that sounded: a doctor getting sick. She was used to him being away at night. It was only last week that she had stood with him on the porch outside her room, just before he went to work. They looked at the stars, and he had told her some of their names. She liked the sound of the names, just like she liked the names of the bones and muscles. “Deneb, Altair, Vega – the summer triangle,” she recited. Then she rattled off the bones of the wrist, “Scaphoid, Lunate, Triquetrum, Pisiform, Trapezium, Trapezoid, Capitate, Hamate.”
In the darkness she smiled. Last summer at the shore, she was showing off her swimming skills, and he chuckled and called her “Scaphoid Annie” – the word means “ship” – and he said she swam as well as a ship. She laughed a little, forgetting her sadness completely. Then she saw the glow of the little night light in front of the statue of Mary. She thought about her mother and father, and she said a little prayer, full of childlike confidence, but still wishing for an answer. After all, even Mary had had an answer to her question...
The glow grew. Annie sat up in bed. It was a very pretty glow, not at all like a fire, or even any kind of electric light she had seen. It was a pink, fading to a lustrous white, with a shimmer of blue at the edge. Annie had never seen a pearl, or she would have said it was a pearl with a spotlight inside. She got out of bed and discovered that the glow was in the middle of the room, not at the little table where the nightlight was. As she got nearer, she saw something in the center. It was the head of a baby, such a lovely, happy, baby! It had the pinkest fat cheeks, and golden hair with a little whisp askew just like her brother’s usually was. But there was no body. Instead there were two white wings, which fluttered gently. This sounds strange to hear, but it did not look strange to Annie. She thought the face was so happy, with a strong hint of fun, as if it were inviting her to come and play. The deep blue eyes looked directly at her, and she knew this was not a baby. They reminded her of her father’s kind gray eyes, full of his years of medical knowledge.
“Hello, Annie,” came a voice. It was a delicate baby voice, as perfectly clear as an adult’s.
“Hello. What’s your name?”
“Why don’t you call me Gelasma, for now?”
“Hello, Gelasma. You’re pretty. Why are you here?”
“It’s my job. I was called up for a special assignment for tonight.”
“What is your job?”
“Oh, I get to do all kinds of things. Sometimes I have to keep an eye on the stars, and other times I have to keep an eye on children. Then I have guard duty, and throne duty, and I get to sing in the choir.”
Annie smiled. “You sing? Your voice is so quiet.”
“I have to be quiet here. But I do sing.”
“Why don’t you have any hands or feet?”
“I don’t need them.”
“Why do you have wings?”
“Those I need, for getting from place to place.”
“Oh, then you are an angel!”
“That’s right,” said the glow, and the smile seemed even happier.
Stan lit a cigarette. He was rather a novice at crime, though he had read enough crime stories, and even tried to write one or two. But no one would buy them, and he had given up. His mother was sick, and they sold her house to pay for her care. For a while, he stayed in a loft over a garage, and washed cars to pay his rent. He went from odd job to odd job, spending most of his money on drink, with his hope leaking out as plentiful as the liquor. Then last night two men had come to talk to him. They “needed someone” to help with a “project,” for a handsome pay. He agreed. He put his hand into his pocket, and felt the cold hard steel of the gun.
Anita walked around the glow. The angel kept his face turned towards her. Then she asked, “Don’t you have a halo?”
“Of course I do,” the angel said. “Don’t you see it? Do I have it on wrong again?” The wings flapped a little, and the angel moved to the mirror at Annie’s dressing table.
He glanced at his reflection. “No, it looks correct. It has all my official colors, too: pearl-pink, pearl-white, and see the blue lining?”
“You mean all that glow is your halo? I thought a halo was like a gold ring for your head.”
“Oh, that kind,” smiled the angel. Those are, er, reserved, for others. But I am a cherubim and so I have this kind.”
Annie thought this over, and decided that she understood. Her Uncle Robert was in the Army, and last Christmas he had explained the uniforms of the different services.
“Why are you so small?”
The angel giggled. “Actually, I am very large, as angels go.”
“Are you my guardian angel?”
“Oh, no, my my, no,” and the angel showed the slightest hint of worry in its chubby face. “I wasn’t assigned. It takes a very special kind of angel to do that. Besides, I’m too large for that.”
“You mean guardian angels are small?”
“Oh, my, yes; they have to be small. Even though we all wear camouflage, someone might see us, and we do our work best when we’re not seen. It’s a matter of Policy.”
“You mean I could see my guardian angel if he wasn’t wearing camouflage?”
“Perhaps. But I won’t ask him for you. You could always ask him yourself.”
Annie decided she would try that later. “Can you see him now?”
“Yes, as well as I see God, or see you. But it’s different for angels, because we see things as they are.”
“Hmm.” Annie wasn’t sure about that. She knew about TV, of course, and that the people in the box in the living room were really in a studio somewhere, but she was still young enough to think that everything she saw was really what it was.
The angel understood her confusion, and plunged on to his business. “Where is your mother now?”
“Oh! Mother, Mother!” she cried. “She’s dead.” Annie put her hands over her face.
The glow increased, as if the sun shone into the room.
“She’s with us, and alive.” (How can a such baby voice sound stern? It’s an angelic secret.) “Only her body is dead, and not for long, either.”
“Why did God take her? Why is she gone?”
“Oh, Annie, God gives everyone a certain time for testing. But He has jobs for all of us, and some of us start work sooner, and some start later. Your mother’s job is getting underway tonight, and she’s already on her way to her first assignment. She has a sister, you know, in England.”
Annie had to look up, and the glow immediately came back to a more gentle level. “Yes, that’s Aunt Veronica. She’s in a nursing home over there.”
“That’s right. And she is worried about her roommate’s son, Stan. Earlier today, when the news about your mother came, Veronica asked her to speak to God about Stan. I had the honor of passing on your aunt’s message: it went direct to the throne! And so, your mother was given the assignment as Chief Agent. However, she knew about you, and sent me to offer you the role of Assistant.”
Annie smiled and wiped her eyes. An assignment from her mother! “Can I see her?”
Suddenly she saw a gleam of gold, like a thread, sparking upwards from the angel, through the ceiling and onwards. Instantly another shot down.
“No, she’s busy. She has the hard part. But there are a number of others who will be helping, and you might get to see them.”
Annie reached for her robe. “What is it I am to do?”
The angel winked. “You’re the one who has to figure that out.”
There was a mansion in the woods. It used to be part of a big estate, but years ago they had sold most of it. The buyer had given it to one of the colleges, and they had an observatory there, and the rest was part of a nature preserve. But one of the children who had lived there had grown up and gone into business and earned lots of money, and finally he moved back in, and bought pearls for his wife. Pearls and more pearls. “Far more than she could ever wear at once,” the man had told Stan when he described the “project.” Stan wondered why she should own them all, if she couldn’t wear them all at once. The man chuckled. “We thought we might do something about it.” The other made a grunting giggle: “Yeah, kind of help her out of her difficulty.” The three laughed.
“How am I supposed to know what to do?” Annie asked the angel, almost angrily. “I don’t even know her assignment.”
“I told you what it was: helping Stan, the son of your aunt’s roommate.”
“Oh, that’s right,” Annie said. “Sorry.”
The angel shrugged, which he did by a motion with his wings, just as if he had shoulders, as any good biologist would know.
“What is wrong with Stan?”
The baby face pouted. “He’s going to break into a house and steal some pearls. But he has a gun with him, and unless something happens very soon, he is going to kill the owner of the pearls.” The angel cleared his throat, as if trying to get a bad taste out of his mouth.
“Oh!” cried Annie. “Doesn’t he know that’s wrong?”
“Yes, but he thinks that it’s wrong for the lady to have all those pearls. That’s not for him to decide. And taking the gun with him – he’s being used as a pawn. The men who told him about the pearls are being paid by the woman’s husband.”
“Wait. You mean, Stan is going to break into a house, steal the pearls, and kill the lady, because her husband hired some men to do it?”
“That’s right.”
Annie looked even more horrified than the angel. “Why would someone do that to his wife?”
“It’s not something angels understand.”
“But my mother is going to stop it?”
“She will try, but she needs your help.”
Annie looked glum, but for once it wasn’t because of her mother’s death – it was her own inadequacy. “I want to help. But how can I help her now, when she has angels like you to help?”
The baby face smiled, and spun around in glee. “That’s what God wants,” and he giggled. “It’s not how angels would do things, but you’re so good at it, when you want to be.”
Annie was mystified by this. An angel with a baby face and wings and a glow for a halo – that she could understand. But helping them at their work! This was not something the typical almost-ten-year-old got to do.
“And you have to hurry. He’s almost to the mansion.”
“What? You mean it’s happening now?”
“Yes. You have to help now.”
Stan had come to the little hill, at the top of which was the observatory. On the other side of the hill was the mansion. There was a dim light at the bottom of the hill, near the parking area, and he made his way close to it. He took the gun out and looked at it. It was all ready. He put it back into his pocket, and took out a cigarette, but then he decided not to light it. Someone might smell it. He would have it later. He decided to walk up the hill, thinking there would be small risk in being seen at such a late hour. Any astronomers there would be busy, as the night would not last much longer.
In the darkness she smiled. Last summer at the shore, she was showing off her swimming skills, and he chuckled and called her “Scaphoid Annie” – the word means “ship” – and he said she swam as well as a ship. She laughed a little, forgetting her sadness completely. Then she saw the glow of the little night light in front of the statue of Mary. She thought about her mother and father, and she said a little prayer, full of childlike confidence, but still wishing for an answer. After all, even Mary had had an answer to her question...
The glow grew. Annie sat up in bed. It was a very pretty glow, not at all like a fire, or even any kind of electric light she had seen. It was a pink, fading to a lustrous white, with a shimmer of blue at the edge. Annie had never seen a pearl, or she would have said it was a pearl with a spotlight inside. She got out of bed and discovered that the glow was in the middle of the room, not at the little table where the nightlight was. As she got nearer, she saw something in the center. It was the head of a baby, such a lovely, happy, baby! It had the pinkest fat cheeks, and golden hair with a little whisp askew just like her brother’s usually was. But there was no body. Instead there were two white wings, which fluttered gently. This sounds strange to hear, but it did not look strange to Annie. She thought the face was so happy, with a strong hint of fun, as if it were inviting her to come and play. The deep blue eyes looked directly at her, and she knew this was not a baby. They reminded her of her father’s kind gray eyes, full of his years of medical knowledge.
“Hello, Annie,” came a voice. It was a delicate baby voice, as perfectly clear as an adult’s.
“Hello. What’s your name?”
“Why don’t you call me Gelasma, for now?”
“Hello, Gelasma. You’re pretty. Why are you here?”
“It’s my job. I was called up for a special assignment for tonight.”
“What is your job?”
“Oh, I get to do all kinds of things. Sometimes I have to keep an eye on the stars, and other times I have to keep an eye on children. Then I have guard duty, and throne duty, and I get to sing in the choir.”
Annie smiled. “You sing? Your voice is so quiet.”
“I have to be quiet here. But I do sing.”
“Why don’t you have any hands or feet?”
“I don’t need them.”
“Why do you have wings?”
“Those I need, for getting from place to place.”
“Oh, then you are an angel!”
“That’s right,” said the glow, and the smile seemed even happier.
Stan lit a cigarette. He was rather a novice at crime, though he had read enough crime stories, and even tried to write one or two. But no one would buy them, and he had given up. His mother was sick, and they sold her house to pay for her care. For a while, he stayed in a loft over a garage, and washed cars to pay his rent. He went from odd job to odd job, spending most of his money on drink, with his hope leaking out as plentiful as the liquor. Then last night two men had come to talk to him. They “needed someone” to help with a “project,” for a handsome pay. He agreed. He put his hand into his pocket, and felt the cold hard steel of the gun.
Anita walked around the glow. The angel kept his face turned towards her. Then she asked, “Don’t you have a halo?”
“Of course I do,” the angel said. “Don’t you see it? Do I have it on wrong again?” The wings flapped a little, and the angel moved to the mirror at Annie’s dressing table.
He glanced at his reflection. “No, it looks correct. It has all my official colors, too: pearl-pink, pearl-white, and see the blue lining?”
“You mean all that glow is your halo? I thought a halo was like a gold ring for your head.”
“Oh, that kind,” smiled the angel. Those are, er, reserved, for others. But I am a cherubim and so I have this kind.”
Annie thought this over, and decided that she understood. Her Uncle Robert was in the Army, and last Christmas he had explained the uniforms of the different services.
“Why are you so small?”
The angel giggled. “Actually, I am very large, as angels go.”
“Are you my guardian angel?”
“Oh, no, my my, no,” and the angel showed the slightest hint of worry in its chubby face. “I wasn’t assigned. It takes a very special kind of angel to do that. Besides, I’m too large for that.”
“You mean guardian angels are small?”
“Oh, my, yes; they have to be small. Even though we all wear camouflage, someone might see us, and we do our work best when we’re not seen. It’s a matter of Policy.”
“You mean I could see my guardian angel if he wasn’t wearing camouflage?”
“Perhaps. But I won’t ask him for you. You could always ask him yourself.”
Annie decided she would try that later. “Can you see him now?”
“Yes, as well as I see God, or see you. But it’s different for angels, because we see things as they are.”
“Hmm.” Annie wasn’t sure about that. She knew about TV, of course, and that the people in the box in the living room were really in a studio somewhere, but she was still young enough to think that everything she saw was really what it was.
The angel understood her confusion, and plunged on to his business. “Where is your mother now?”
“Oh! Mother, Mother!” she cried. “She’s dead.” Annie put her hands over her face.
The glow increased, as if the sun shone into the room.
“She’s with us, and alive.” (How can a such baby voice sound stern? It’s an angelic secret.) “Only her body is dead, and not for long, either.”
“Why did God take her? Why is she gone?”
“Oh, Annie, God gives everyone a certain time for testing. But He has jobs for all of us, and some of us start work sooner, and some start later. Your mother’s job is getting underway tonight, and she’s already on her way to her first assignment. She has a sister, you know, in England.”
Annie had to look up, and the glow immediately came back to a more gentle level. “Yes, that’s Aunt Veronica. She’s in a nursing home over there.”
“That’s right. And she is worried about her roommate’s son, Stan. Earlier today, when the news about your mother came, Veronica asked her to speak to God about Stan. I had the honor of passing on your aunt’s message: it went direct to the throne! And so, your mother was given the assignment as Chief Agent. However, she knew about you, and sent me to offer you the role of Assistant.”
Annie smiled and wiped her eyes. An assignment from her mother! “Can I see her?”
Suddenly she saw a gleam of gold, like a thread, sparking upwards from the angel, through the ceiling and onwards. Instantly another shot down.
“No, she’s busy. She has the hard part. But there are a number of others who will be helping, and you might get to see them.”
Annie reached for her robe. “What is it I am to do?”
The angel winked. “You’re the one who has to figure that out.”
There was a mansion in the woods. It used to be part of a big estate, but years ago they had sold most of it. The buyer had given it to one of the colleges, and they had an observatory there, and the rest was part of a nature preserve. But one of the children who had lived there had grown up and gone into business and earned lots of money, and finally he moved back in, and bought pearls for his wife. Pearls and more pearls. “Far more than she could ever wear at once,” the man had told Stan when he described the “project.” Stan wondered why she should own them all, if she couldn’t wear them all at once. The man chuckled. “We thought we might do something about it.” The other made a grunting giggle: “Yeah, kind of help her out of her difficulty.” The three laughed.
“How am I supposed to know what to do?” Annie asked the angel, almost angrily. “I don’t even know her assignment.”
“I told you what it was: helping Stan, the son of your aunt’s roommate.”
“Oh, that’s right,” Annie said. “Sorry.”
The angel shrugged, which he did by a motion with his wings, just as if he had shoulders, as any good biologist would know.
“What is wrong with Stan?”
The baby face pouted. “He’s going to break into a house and steal some pearls. But he has a gun with him, and unless something happens very soon, he is going to kill the owner of the pearls.” The angel cleared his throat, as if trying to get a bad taste out of his mouth.
“Oh!” cried Annie. “Doesn’t he know that’s wrong?”
“Yes, but he thinks that it’s wrong for the lady to have all those pearls. That’s not for him to decide. And taking the gun with him – he’s being used as a pawn. The men who told him about the pearls are being paid by the woman’s husband.”
“Wait. You mean, Stan is going to break into a house, steal the pearls, and kill the lady, because her husband hired some men to do it?”
“That’s right.”
Annie looked even more horrified than the angel. “Why would someone do that to his wife?”
“It’s not something angels understand.”
“But my mother is going to stop it?”
“She will try, but she needs your help.”
Annie looked glum, but for once it wasn’t because of her mother’s death – it was her own inadequacy. “I want to help. But how can I help her now, when she has angels like you to help?”
The baby face smiled, and spun around in glee. “That’s what God wants,” and he giggled. “It’s not how angels would do things, but you’re so good at it, when you want to be.”
Annie was mystified by this. An angel with a baby face and wings and a glow for a halo – that she could understand. But helping them at their work! This was not something the typical almost-ten-year-old got to do.
“And you have to hurry. He’s almost to the mansion.”
“What? You mean it’s happening now?”
“Yes. You have to help now.”
Stan had come to the little hill, at the top of which was the observatory. On the other side of the hill was the mansion. There was a dim light at the bottom of the hill, near the parking area, and he made his way close to it. He took the gun out and looked at it. It was all ready. He put it back into his pocket, and took out a cigarette, but then he decided not to light it. Someone might smell it. He would have it later. He decided to walk up the hill, thinking there would be small risk in being seen at such a late hour. Any astronomers there would be busy, as the night would not last much longer.
* * *
Annie wrapped the robe around her tightly, and looked around the room, searching for an idea. The angel followed her glance. She saw her toy box, her books, her desk, her doll on a chair, her dressing table with the nightlight in front of the statue of Mary. Annie looked at the statue, thinking. What did Mary do when the angel had asked her something? She prayed that God’s will be done. Well, she could do that, and the angel didn’t have to know she was asking God for an idea.
But a golden light shone out from her, and went to the angel, and bounded into the depths above.
The angel giggled. “Well, you’ll get your answer, but God wants you to do it yourself. Don’t worry! But think of something soon, because he’s at the observatory at the top of the hill, and on the other side of the hill is the mansion.”
Annie scratched her head. “What’s an observatory?”
“It’s a place for studying the stars.”
“Oh! With a telescope?”
“Yes.”
Annie went out to the little porch beside her room. The angel followed her. She looked up at the sky. “My father showed me some stars last week. Let’s see. That’s Vega, and that’s Deneb, and that’s Altair. They make the Summer Triangle.”
The angel nodded. “Correct.”
“And over there is Antares, in Scorpius. It’s a big star, and red.”
“Yes; I’ve seen it up close.” The angel looked especially pleased.
Annie thought back to what the angel had said earlier. “Didn’t you say you kept an eye on the stars?”
“Yes. I have to make sure they don’t get off their courses. Not that they can, but there is someone who is always trying to make things go wrong, and for some reason he tries meddling with the stars, when he can’t get you humans to go wrong.”
“And you put them right again?”
“Usually we keep matters from going so far.”
“You actually can control the stars?”
“Yes, it’s quite easy. I could not possibly control you, but a great big ball of nuclear fire is very easy to manage.”
Annie laughed, a good hearty laugh. Mercifully her brother and her Aunt Rose were on the other side of the house.
Entirely with complete selflessness, and out of sheer wonder, she turned and looked directly at the angel. “Could you show me?”
Again a golden beam shot upwards, and this time she saw it plunge into the depths of heaven. Another came down in answer, and stayed there for a few moments.
“Yes,” the angel said, with a little sigh of happiness. “Which star would you like to select?”
“Antares. It’s the biggest one I know.”
“I know some bigger ones, but it’s a good choice.” The angel came over to the railing right beside Annie. “First, I’ll have to find out if anyone else is looking, since we don’t have any extraordinary global miracles scheduled for tonight. It’ll only take a moment...”
Then for the merest moment, Annie glimpsed a maze of golden beams, all starting forth from the angel, and spreading out all over the ground and sky. “It’s all right; no one is watching, and the few observatories will be taken care of. Now keep your eyes on Antares, and I’ll show you a couple of things we can do.”
“I’m ready,” Annie said, but then she gulped, and cried, “Wait! What about Stan?”
The angel raised his eyebrows. “You’ve done what you were supposed to do. Now it’s up to me and your mother.” The angel took a deep breath, as if about to exert himself.
Then Annie gasped in amazement.
Stan had gotten to the top of the hill, and he was looking at the stars. It had been so long since he had looked at them. One of his stories was about an interstellar detective; he used to dream about riding on a spaceship. He remembered his mother reading him stories about detectives, and it was only to be expected that he would try to combine the two. That was long ago, and it didn’t work out. Now he was stuck doing something horrible like this. Then in his mind, he heard a voice.
“Stan, if you think it’s horrible, don’t do it. Stay here and look at the stars.”
He grunted. “Sure, why not? Lot of money in that.”
The voice came with a kind of chuckle. “You’re standing here by an observatory. The people who work here are paid to look at the stars.”
“Yeah, and they went to college.”
“So did you. But you look further than the stars. They can only write about what they see. You can write about things no one has seen.”
“No one wants the stories. I tried and I tried.”
Gently the voice explained, “Jules Verne and Arthur Conan Doyle were rejected their first tries, too.”
“And you think I’m as good as they were?”
“Your mother let me read your stories. You could be.”
“My mother is in a nursing home – how did you meet her?”
“Your mother’s roommate is my sister.”
The man rubbed his head. “ I’ve not had a job, or a decent meal for months. Then those men got me involved in this... If only God would give me just another chance!”
“You have it. Take it. You see that pipe there by the steps? It’s the vent of the cesspool for the observatory. Drop the gun in there. Then go and knock on their door.”
Stan straightened himself up. “OK, I will.”
He went over to the pipe. He took the bullets out, and dropped them in, then he dropped the gun in. He could just hear a faint splash. He rubbed his hands on his slacks, and ran them through his hair. “I’ll just say I’m lost. And it will be the truth.”
He went up to the door of the observatory, and knocked. As he stood there waiting, he looked up at the sky, wondering what that voice had been. He found Scorpius in the west, with reddish Antares in its heart.
Suddenly cold, he banged again on the door, and called out. “Hello? Anyone home?”
At his call, some birds flew up out of the trees, and as he looked again at Antares, he saw it change to green, then blue, then back to red. Then it moved across the sky, and left a trail of red. It traced out the letter “A”, then returned to its place, and again changed to green, then blue, and finally resumed its own color.
Behind him the door opened. A sturdy young man stood there smiling. “May I help you?”
“Wow.”
The young man followed Stan’s gaze. “Why do you say ‘Wow’? What was it? A meteor?”
“No. Isn’t Antares red?”
“Why, yes, it is.”
“Well it was green there, for a while, and then blue.”
The young man stared at Stan. “Have you been drinking?”
“No; I’m lost, but I’m not drunk.”
“Well, my colleague and I were looking at Antares just now, and we’ll soon see. We had expected a transit by one of the minor planets, and we were trying to verify our computations. You knocked just before the moment of the transit.”
“Oh, I’m sorry!” Stan was genuinely worried that he had interrupted an important advance of science.
“Not to worry,” said the other man. “It’s being recorded by a camera with a clock. The human eye might not notice something the film can. Besides, my associate was watching.”
They went up into the observatory. At the eyepiece of a telescope sat a woman. She stood up, an angry look on her face.
“I can’t believe it. Those birds flew past just at the very moment of the transit. You couldn’t have picked a worse moment to drop in.”
“Oh, Gail, stuff it. This is my sister, Gail Willis. I’m Gary Willis.”
“My name is Stan. Stan Robinson.” They shook hands.
“Well, maybe the camera got something,” sulked Gail. “Hurry up and develop it, would you, Gary?” She turned to Stan and said, “Would you like some tea?”
“Definitely.”
She took cups from a nearby shelf. “Say, what do you do?”
“I’m a struggling writer.”
The woman smiled at him. Thank God he wasn’t another astronomer. “Well, our father is a publisher. Maybe you can talk to him.”
Annie went back into her room. The only light came from the little night light. Then she heard a faint whimper. She opened the door and went out into the hall. The sound came from her brother’s room.
She knocked gently. “Tim, are you awake?”
“Yes.”
She went in and closed the door.
“Can’t you sleep?”
“I was asleep. But then I woke up, and it was dark.”
“It’s always dark at night, silly.”
“But my little nightlight is out.”
“Oh. I can fix that. I have an extra bulb.”
Quickly she went over to her room and took the bulb out of her own light. She ran back to Timmy’s room and put it into his light.
“Timmy, do you want me to tell you a story?”
“Yes. But it has to be a new story.”
“OK, I will, but you have to go right to sleep them.”
“I promise.”
“OK. Here’s the story. ‘Once upon a time there was a man who had a gun...’”
But a golden light shone out from her, and went to the angel, and bounded into the depths above.
The angel giggled. “Well, you’ll get your answer, but God wants you to do it yourself. Don’t worry! But think of something soon, because he’s at the observatory at the top of the hill, and on the other side of the hill is the mansion.”
Annie scratched her head. “What’s an observatory?”
“It’s a place for studying the stars.”
“Oh! With a telescope?”
“Yes.”
Annie went out to the little porch beside her room. The angel followed her. She looked up at the sky. “My father showed me some stars last week. Let’s see. That’s Vega, and that’s Deneb, and that’s Altair. They make the Summer Triangle.”
The angel nodded. “Correct.”
“And over there is Antares, in Scorpius. It’s a big star, and red.”
“Yes; I’ve seen it up close.” The angel looked especially pleased.
Annie thought back to what the angel had said earlier. “Didn’t you say you kept an eye on the stars?”
“Yes. I have to make sure they don’t get off their courses. Not that they can, but there is someone who is always trying to make things go wrong, and for some reason he tries meddling with the stars, when he can’t get you humans to go wrong.”
“And you put them right again?”
“Usually we keep matters from going so far.”
“You actually can control the stars?”
“Yes, it’s quite easy. I could not possibly control you, but a great big ball of nuclear fire is very easy to manage.”
Annie laughed, a good hearty laugh. Mercifully her brother and her Aunt Rose were on the other side of the house.
Entirely with complete selflessness, and out of sheer wonder, she turned and looked directly at the angel. “Could you show me?”
Again a golden beam shot upwards, and this time she saw it plunge into the depths of heaven. Another came down in answer, and stayed there for a few moments.
“Yes,” the angel said, with a little sigh of happiness. “Which star would you like to select?”
“Antares. It’s the biggest one I know.”
“I know some bigger ones, but it’s a good choice.” The angel came over to the railing right beside Annie. “First, I’ll have to find out if anyone else is looking, since we don’t have any extraordinary global miracles scheduled for tonight. It’ll only take a moment...”
Then for the merest moment, Annie glimpsed a maze of golden beams, all starting forth from the angel, and spreading out all over the ground and sky. “It’s all right; no one is watching, and the few observatories will be taken care of. Now keep your eyes on Antares, and I’ll show you a couple of things we can do.”
“I’m ready,” Annie said, but then she gulped, and cried, “Wait! What about Stan?”
The angel raised his eyebrows. “You’ve done what you were supposed to do. Now it’s up to me and your mother.” The angel took a deep breath, as if about to exert himself.
Then Annie gasped in amazement.
Stan had gotten to the top of the hill, and he was looking at the stars. It had been so long since he had looked at them. One of his stories was about an interstellar detective; he used to dream about riding on a spaceship. He remembered his mother reading him stories about detectives, and it was only to be expected that he would try to combine the two. That was long ago, and it didn’t work out. Now he was stuck doing something horrible like this. Then in his mind, he heard a voice.
“Stan, if you think it’s horrible, don’t do it. Stay here and look at the stars.”
He grunted. “Sure, why not? Lot of money in that.”
The voice came with a kind of chuckle. “You’re standing here by an observatory. The people who work here are paid to look at the stars.”
“Yeah, and they went to college.”
“So did you. But you look further than the stars. They can only write about what they see. You can write about things no one has seen.”
“No one wants the stories. I tried and I tried.”
Gently the voice explained, “Jules Verne and Arthur Conan Doyle were rejected their first tries, too.”
“And you think I’m as good as they were?”
“Your mother let me read your stories. You could be.”
“My mother is in a nursing home – how did you meet her?”
“Your mother’s roommate is my sister.”
The man rubbed his head. “ I’ve not had a job, or a decent meal for months. Then those men got me involved in this... If only God would give me just another chance!”
“You have it. Take it. You see that pipe there by the steps? It’s the vent of the cesspool for the observatory. Drop the gun in there. Then go and knock on their door.”
Stan straightened himself up. “OK, I will.”
He went over to the pipe. He took the bullets out, and dropped them in, then he dropped the gun in. He could just hear a faint splash. He rubbed his hands on his slacks, and ran them through his hair. “I’ll just say I’m lost. And it will be the truth.”
He went up to the door of the observatory, and knocked. As he stood there waiting, he looked up at the sky, wondering what that voice had been. He found Scorpius in the west, with reddish Antares in its heart.
Suddenly cold, he banged again on the door, and called out. “Hello? Anyone home?”
At his call, some birds flew up out of the trees, and as he looked again at Antares, he saw it change to green, then blue, then back to red. Then it moved across the sky, and left a trail of red. It traced out the letter “A”, then returned to its place, and again changed to green, then blue, and finally resumed its own color.
Behind him the door opened. A sturdy young man stood there smiling. “May I help you?”
“Wow.”
The young man followed Stan’s gaze. “Why do you say ‘Wow’? What was it? A meteor?”
“No. Isn’t Antares red?”
“Why, yes, it is.”
“Well it was green there, for a while, and then blue.”
The young man stared at Stan. “Have you been drinking?”
“No; I’m lost, but I’m not drunk.”
“Well, my colleague and I were looking at Antares just now, and we’ll soon see. We had expected a transit by one of the minor planets, and we were trying to verify our computations. You knocked just before the moment of the transit.”
“Oh, I’m sorry!” Stan was genuinely worried that he had interrupted an important advance of science.
“Not to worry,” said the other man. “It’s being recorded by a camera with a clock. The human eye might not notice something the film can. Besides, my associate was watching.”
They went up into the observatory. At the eyepiece of a telescope sat a woman. She stood up, an angry look on her face.
“I can’t believe it. Those birds flew past just at the very moment of the transit. You couldn’t have picked a worse moment to drop in.”
“Oh, Gail, stuff it. This is my sister, Gail Willis. I’m Gary Willis.”
“My name is Stan. Stan Robinson.” They shook hands.
“Well, maybe the camera got something,” sulked Gail. “Hurry up and develop it, would you, Gary?” She turned to Stan and said, “Would you like some tea?”
“Definitely.”
She took cups from a nearby shelf. “Say, what do you do?”
“I’m a struggling writer.”
The woman smiled at him. Thank God he wasn’t another astronomer. “Well, our father is a publisher. Maybe you can talk to him.”
Annie went back into her room. The only light came from the little night light. Then she heard a faint whimper. She opened the door and went out into the hall. The sound came from her brother’s room.
She knocked gently. “Tim, are you awake?”
“Yes.”
She went in and closed the door.
“Can’t you sleep?”
“I was asleep. But then I woke up, and it was dark.”
“It’s always dark at night, silly.”
“But my little nightlight is out.”
“Oh. I can fix that. I have an extra bulb.”
Quickly she went over to her room and took the bulb out of her own light. She ran back to Timmy’s room and put it into his light.
“Timmy, do you want me to tell you a story?”
“Yes. But it has to be a new story.”
“OK, I will, but you have to go right to sleep them.”
“I promise.”
“OK. Here’s the story. ‘Once upon a time there was a man who had a gun...’”
* * *
Timmy was asleep. Annie walked slowly back to her room. It was very dark there. All her nice things seemed to be turned into monsters looming in the dark. She remembered the angel telling her about someone who would try to put her off her course. She thought about how bright the angel was, and yet how small. Then she remembered about her guardian angel. And she asked, “Oh, guardian angel, would you please show yourself to me?”
There were no golden beams shooting around. No little baby face with wings, or lovely colored glows. But there was a tiny, tiny spot of gold quite near to her. She shut her eyes and it was gone; she opened them and there it was. She reached out, and her hand got in the way of the gleam; it seemed to be just beyond her hand.
“Is that really you?” she asked, but inside her head, not with her voice.
The light blinked three times.
Annie smiled. “Did you see what the cherubim did?”
Immediately the gold speck turned green and blue and red, and drew a letter “A,” returning to its original gold. Somehow she knew he was laughing.
“Is everything going to be OK now?”
The speck blinked three times, then flashed around, tracing an arrow pointing at her bed.
“And now, go to sleep,” she translated. “OK, I will.”
And she did.
In a distant village two men waited for Stan to contact them. They never did find him – he looked entirely different now.
There were no golden beams shooting around. No little baby face with wings, or lovely colored glows. But there was a tiny, tiny spot of gold quite near to her. She shut her eyes and it was gone; she opened them and there it was. She reached out, and her hand got in the way of the gleam; it seemed to be just beyond her hand.
“Is that really you?” she asked, but inside her head, not with her voice.
The light blinked three times.
Annie smiled. “Did you see what the cherubim did?”
Immediately the gold speck turned green and blue and red, and drew a letter “A,” returning to its original gold. Somehow she knew he was laughing.
“Is everything going to be OK now?”
The speck blinked three times, then flashed around, tracing an arrow pointing at her bed.
“And now, go to sleep,” she translated. “OK, I will.”
And she did.
In a distant village two men waited for Stan to contact them. They never did find him – he looked entirely different now.
* * *
A few weeks later, Annie received a package from England. It was a book called Antares Goes Green. There was also a photograph of a young man and woman, and a note:
“My mother told me to send you a copy of this book. She said you liked the stars, and so would appreciate it. I have enclosed a picture of another astronomer, who is very special to me.
Your humble servant,
Stan Robinson.”
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