The Constellations

Clouds rolled in

clouds rollEd in during the late afternoon.The change in the weather disappointed Eric. Of all his relatives—of everyone he knew, actually—Uncle Fergus alone showed any enthusiasm for astronomy. As Eric brooded over his bad luck, a Volkswagen bug skidded to a stop in front of the house. Strange music blasted from the car. As usual. According to Eric’s father, Fergus listened to the weird music popular on college campuses. Fergus squirmed out of the car like an astronaut abandoning an Apollo capsule. It took him longer than it took Aunt Deb. “Raw-boned,” Cowell called him. “Doesn’t that woman feed him?” asked Aunt Phyl. A tangle of wavy brown hair, ostensibly parted on the right (he depended on low winds to hold the part), seemed to stick out beyond his shoulders. Despite the muggy day he wore a checked flannel shirt. Mossy white thread dangled from the holes in his jeans. “Hello, Dr. Copernicus,” he said, bending down to Eric’s eye level.“What’s the buzz?” “I’m okay,” Eric said. Though he liked Uncle Fergus—and far more than Deb’s previous husband—Eric only understood what he said about half the time. Fergus removed his sunglasses, glanced at the sky.“Looks like a tough night for stargazing.” “Maybe it’ll clear up,” Eric said. Deb leaned down, landed a kiss on Eric’s cheek.“How are you, sweetheart? Why don’t you help bring in the suitcases?” “Ask her if she’s a good tipper,” Fergus said. “No, I’m not,” Deb replied over her shoulder. “Where’s Emma?” Eric said. “At her dad’s,” Fergus said.“She has another week of school.” That was a break, as far as Eric was concerned. Most of the Kevin Cunningham 87 time Emma ignored him in favor of her books or the grown-ups, but not until after she had thrown a fit because he played board games the wrong way. Eric accompanied Fergus around the bug, paused to read the bumper sticker. On the left was a picture of Albert Einstein in front of a field of stars. Next to it the blue letters said: 186,000 miles per second IT’S THE LAW. The speed of light,Eric said to himself.He felt a flush of excitement at his knowledge. Leaning into the car, he noticed a coffee can in the backseat. “That’s for you,” Fergus said. Eric looked first at the wide bottom —Sagittarius, he thought. On the can’s side was a picture of an Arab drinking coffee from a bowl. The Arabs believed parts of Sagittarius to be many things, a ladle and an ostrich nest among them. Eric nodded to himself. If the coffee company put an Arab on the side, he figured he should devote the can to a constellation on which the Arabs had an opinion. The music played on. The aurora was rising behind the guy singing. Eric veered aside to the eight-track. “Can I look at your tape?” he asked. “Sure. Do you like the music?” Eric pulled the tape out. A scruffy guy’s face filled most of the cover. “I didn’t hear very much,” Eric answered. “My students keep me hip,”Fergus said.“I’d never find bands on my own. Only bachelors have time to keep up with rock and roll.” Fergus took the suitcases.Eric handled Deb’s makeup and toiletries bags. When they got inside she was sitting at the dining room table talking to Roy while the girls pressed hands against her stomach . A short time later the men and their beers stood at the grill near the kitchen porch. Roy, out of lighter fluid, used gasoline to start the fire. It ignited with an impressive mushroom cloud. 88 The Constellations Roy also preferred Fergus to the first husband.David had been chronologically ten years older than Roy, but his stiff formality tempted Roy to count those as dog years. Fergus, by contrast, was a year younger. Roy felt uncomfortable with someone of his education, particularly as Fergus edged toward becoming an assistant professor and, as he had over the last year, published a few short stories. From the go, however, Fergus took to the kids, unfazed by Cammy’s handicap or Eric’s initial shyness. Roy gave him a lot of credit for it. “Out of school yet?” Roy said. “For a...