The Constellations

Deb tried to time her arrival

dEB TriEd To TimE HEr arrival to miss Phyllis. Instead she found Phyl and Cowell snapping green beans at the kitchen table with Roy. A pyramid of corn gleamed nearby. Deb gave an abbreviated report of the interview.While she praised Eric more than she reported on the school, Phyl’s expression did not soften. Deb called in Fergus and they left, twenty minutes after arriving. Over dinner the others quizzed Eric on his opinion of the school and the city—Phyl had particular worries about the dangers of the latter. As they rested from the feast Eric passed with his telescope over his shoulder like a rifle. “I’m surprised you left that at home,” Cowell said. “Uncle Fergus told me it’d be hard to see stars in the city,” Eric said on his way out the door. “All those tall buildings?” “And too much light.” “Then why’s he need to go?” Phyl muttered. “Hush, Phyllis Lynn,” Cowell said. “I just don’t like it that he’d be separated from his people.” “It isn’t that far away,” Roy said. With a disapproving murmur Phyllis rose to clear the plates. “I’m not talking about the distance,” she said. “I think people ought to stay with their own. The Bible states the family is the foundation.” “Here comes the chapter and verse,” Roy said. “That’s all I’m going to say.” Cowell said, “If you don’t behave we won’t let you go to the fireworks later.” “I’m not coming anyway,” she replied. “Too much noise and too many mosquitoes. The fireworks won’t be any different than they were last year.” Kevin Cunningham 151 Roy and Cowell went onto the porch. The long, pink, diminishing trails of airplanes hatched the sky, each line seemingly bound for the same vanishing point beyond the horizon. The swing creaked as Cowell rocked. Roy, standing on the bottom porch step, watched Eric screw the telescope to its tripod and set it up on the trunk of the Ford. “This damn humidity’s killing me,” Roy said. “I heard a meteorologist interviewed on the radio,” Cowell replied . “He said a dense pocket of humid air had hung over the center of the United States since early spring. That’s why there’ve been so many tornadoes. Been a hell of a summer all around.You must have a hard time up on those roofs.” “I definitely wouldn’t turn down a million bucks to quit my job,” Roy said.“You want a smoke?” “Not with my physician so close,”Cowell said,and he thumbed toward the clatter of Phyl clearing the dishes.“You shouldn’t mind Phyl.What’s she going to say? Eric’s like her own.All the more so since Jean died.You know Phyllis. Everything is crystal clear now that she’s found Jesus. Personally, I think my Holy Trinity’s a lot easier to understand—Ford, Chrysler, and GM. I’ve got Detroit, and she’s got Jerusalem. She doesn’t see it that way, though.” “I doubt he’ll even get in,” Roy replied.“There’s no use fighting about it.” “Even if he does, this isn’t a deal where Eric falls through a trapdoor if you make a bad choice. Either way has its points. That’s a good situation to be in, when you think about it.” The image of Libra passed through Roy’s mind. To various ancient peoples the constellation formed an Altar, a Lamp, or a Chariot, and then Claws, and eventually the Scales. “Weighing, weighing,” Eric had chanted, moving his outstretched hands up and down with the shifting of imaginary weights. Roy, remembering that moment, laughed to himself. “What?” Cowell said. “Nothing,” Roy said, and then he laughed again. “I swear to God, I don’t know where the damn kid gets this stuff. He’s even got me thinking about it.” 152 The Constellations Toward dusk they packed into Roy’s Ford and departed for the fairgrounds. In honor of the fireworks Eric had read up on the Chinese invention of gunpowder. It came under a section on rockets. On the left page: two jaundiced men in ponytails standing next to a tube that emitted a sparkler-like explosion drawn to look like brightly colored asterisks. Toward the end of the section , a photo of a Saturn V booster lifted off...