A short story from a museum excursion in Japan

The Night the Stars Dimmed
by Chris Pelletier

February 27, 2011

Tommy never tired of looking at the stars. There was a long, deep-seeded connection with them.

When he was younger, he occasionally went into the fields with his dad past his bedtime. The galaxy’s road stretched out across the black velvet, which was peppered with tons of solitary stars. The lamp which his father brought had a hood, so their eyes would get used to the dark. Tommy carried the paper mache globe with the night sky painted on it, which his father had made for him for his seventh birthday last year.

“See that group of stars there?” his father said pointing his finger. Tommy looked at the direction, but scrunched up his face. “There? Those three in a row.”

Tommy saw the pattern his father meant. “Yeah. What are they?”

“They make up Orion’s belt. He was a hunter in olden times. The old gods made him immortal in the sky. You can kind of make out his form there, there, and there.”

“Dad, what does immortal mean?”

“It means you can’t die.”

“Oh. I hope I can be put into stars in the sky some day.”

His father laughed and patted Tommy’s head. “Ya never know. Let’s get back home, or your Ma will kill us.”

So the pair walked through the dark grass back to their home. As they approached, the lights dimmed the stars. Tommy’s bedtime approached, and it was off to dreamland with a tuck in and kiss from mom and dad.

Years later, his father brought him to the observatory in the hills to get a good look at the stars. It was a Friday night, so his mom could not make a fuss about having school the next day. The cloudless California sky held the evening’s gems. The moon obliged Tommy and his father by staying away that night, too. It was as dark as any closet Tommy had ever hid in. Maybe even moreso.

They went into the building which had the funny dome on top. “Hey, Bill,” Tommy’s father said to his coworker.

“Ah, we have a visitor tonight, I see. How ya doing, Tommy?”

“Fine, thanks, Mr. Miller,” Tommy said with a smile, as he took off his cap.

“You here to see Jupiter tonight?”

“You mean I can see the biggest planet?”

“Yep. We aligned old Gertrude, here, and she’s looking straight up at the old man.”

The monster planet. Second in size only to the sun. With his naked eye, Tommy could see the yellow glow in the sky, as they walked to the observatory. Now he could see it closer with the help of the metal telescope, which looked like a sewage pipe on a frame.

His father walked over to Gertrude and closed an eye, and put his other one to the viewer. He whistled. “Sure is pretty tonight. Come on over here and have a look.”

Tommy raced to his father’s side and bounced in anticipation. “My turn, my turn.”

His father laughed and said, “OK, hold your horses. Just put your eye up to there and look. Squint if you have to. It might help you focus.”

Tommy did as he was told. There it was, about the size of a dime, glowing in the night. It looked a bit red. “Oh, dad, it’s wonderful.”

“I thought you’d like it. Next to Mars, it’s one of my favorites. I remember the first time—“
A sudden shaking of the ground beneath the building sent books falling from the shelves and furniture rumbling. “Earthquake,” said Bill, with a frightful look on his face.

Tommy’s dad grabbed Tommy’s arm as things rocked and lurched. The gas lamps rocked, spilling oil on the floor. A small pool ignited and soon the observatory’s wooden floor was aflame. Chaos errupted.

Gertrude moaned and groaned in her mounting, and she broke free of the bolts which restrained her. Tommy’s father’s attention was on the fire, so he did not notice the falling telescope.
Tommy’s eyes bulged, and he yanked his father’s arm, using all of his weight. “Come on, Dad.”
The metal tube rushed down, just missing Tommy’s father’s head by inches.

Over the noise of the fire, Bill said, “Let’s go, Frank! Get out of here!”

Tommy’s father took a moment to scan the surroundings through red eyes. All of his years of work going to flames. He took Tommy by the hand and both raced to the door, dodging the fire. The smoke hung thick and choked them. The heat became a blanket of pain. His father grabbed at the door handle, but burned his hand. Tommy took off his flannel shirt and wrapped it around his hand and opened the latch. The fresh air gave fuel to the fire within and all three leapt out of the inferno just as a crescendo of fire poured out into the night.

A column of smoke rose into the night sky, and the stars were dimmed by the orange glow of the observatory. As the closest fire brigade was miles away in San Francisco, the building would not be rescued.

Bill looked at Tommy’s father’s hand and said, “It’s not too bad. Good thing Tommy here had enough wits to cover his hand.”

Tommy looked at his father’s second degree burns and grimaced. His father looked at him. “You OK, Tommy?”

“Yeah, Dad. Too bad about Gertrude.”

“Well, there can be many Gertrudes, but only one Tommy, and I thank the stars he’s safe. Let’s get you back home to your Ma.”

A week later, Tommy and his father went out to look at the heavens once again. They brought a smaller telescope with them. “Dad, sorry that you can’t work with the big telescope anymore at the observatory.”

“Ah, it’s all right. Remember, the stars are immortals. They will always be there for us, no matter if we have a big telescope, small telescope, or no telescope at all. As long as we can look at them and appreciate them, that’s all that matters to me. We don’t need an observatory.”
“Yeah, this field is a good enough observatory,” Tommy said.

They both looked up at the immortals above, and Tommy thanked the stars for allowing him and his father to enjoy the moment together.

A short scene: The Joust

THE JOUST
By Chris Pelletier
copyright 2009

I peddled at a leisurely pace to Lon’s house, being in no particular hurry to get to where I was just the day before. The Minnesotan July was rather mild, so I was in my comfortable tank top from the drier and the same pair of denim shorts that I had been wearing for the past couple of days.

As I rode, I was thinking about what we would do that day. I figured that we would probably do the usual: play Atari games or watch MTV. Lon was the only one of my friends who had cable TV, so he was quite popular.

Fifteen minutes later, I arrived on his freshly tarred driveway. He was waiting for me in his stuffy garage, which smelled of cut grass from the lawnmower bag. His hands fiddled with his black, ten-speed bike. His mom was divorced, so he was left to entertain himself during summer vacations, and his older sister was usually our with her jock boyfriend. Once again we had the house to ourselves.

“Hey. How’s it going?” I asked.

He smiled, brushed back his sweaty, blond skateboarder bangs and said, “Hey. Let’s joust.”

“What?” I was not sure that I had heard him right.

“Let’s joust on bikes!”

We both loved fantasy games, and while growing up, we had our heads filled with the adventures of Robin Hood and King Arthur. So to live out a fantasy of jousting sounded like a wonderful idea. My head was involuntarily nodding. Besides, it was much safer than playing with matches and black powder like we did the week before.

He grabbed a pair of aluminum garbage can lids. Crashing them together like cymbals he said, “Here are our shields.”

“What about lances?”

He set the shields down with a loud clang and rummaged around through piles of stuff which lined the garage walls. Then he spun around holding a rake and a push-broom. Perfect.

Delighted, I grabbed the broom from his hand and a shield from the ground and went to my blue steed. Holding the ram-horned handlebars, I walked it to the vacant street in front of his house. Summertime was quiet in his neighborhood.

I was really excited about this and it was obvious that he was, too. We just smiled at each other from afar, about 70 yards apart. I wished I had armor and a horse.

“Ready?” he called out.

"Ready!”

We mounted our bikes, trying to balance while awkwardly clutching onto our knightly arms. At first, peddling slowly proved to be too unstable to ride, so we had to build up speed.

Faster and faster our legs kept going. Round and round they kept turning. After gaining my control and confidence, I aimed my lance for his shield which protected his chest. Seeing Ols set his lance into position, I grasped my shield’s handle with an iron grip, bracing for the inevitable impact from his lance. Adrenaline was making my heart pound furiously in my chest. I thought it would explode!

Then came the crash…