The Constellations

The phone rang at 6 a.m.

THE pHonE rang aT 6 a.m. It was Dombey, as always as loud as a man who was hard of hearing. “Roy boy,” he exclaimed.“They take the cast off?” “Yesterday,” Roy said. “How you getting by otherwise?” “The usual.” “Me and my brother-in-law picked up some more extra work,” Dombey said.“If you’re up for it with your leg.” “This the brother-in-law who does drywalling?” Roy asked. “Sometimes. Let’s talk about it face-to-face, though.” “My car’s iffy.” “I’ll pick you up,” Dombey said. Extra work, Roy thought as he hung up. A man never needed it more. He lit a cigarette, already his fourth of the day. Across the table Cammy removed the empty bag from the Cheerios and put the box on her head. Soon the waxy cereal bag was drifting around the room, blown by the kitchen’s competing drafts. Grub pounded on the table with a spoon. Upstairs, his son got ready for school. Eric picked up his last empty and tore off the label. Tin cans worked best for constellations because of their flat bottoms.Aluminum beer cans were more abundant and easier to get a nail through, but the concave bottoms distorted the shapes. Aunt Phyl had declared them off-limits for other reasons, in particular because they made his bedroom smell like a tavern. He didn’t mind the odor. He aimed his flashlight through Boötes, the Herdsman. It threw freckles of light onto the wall. He still needed to wiggle a nail in the hole representing Arcturus, to make it as big as a firstmagnitude star deserved. 4 The Constellations Aunt Phyl turned on the lamp and flipped off the radio before stooping to root through the cans. She squinted at him.“Did you find that shirt under an old rock?” “I put my school clothes on last night. So I could sleep longer.” Eric thrust out one leg.“My pants, too.” “Your aunt Deborah’s going to be here when you get home from school,” Phyllis said. “Do you want her thinking you were out all night? And did you sleep with the radio on?” When Eric arrived in the kitchen his father was sipping his coffee. Eric knelt to pet a cocker-something mix drowsy from a meal of dog food and breakfast cereal. He wore burrs he had picked up a few days before. “I’m the queen,” Cammy exclaimed from under the box. “You’d certainly think so in this house,”Aunt Phyl said. Roy ran tap water onto the end of his cigarette. The sharp smell of the sulfur in the water mingled with that of the coffee and curled Eric’s nose; he had yet to get used to the odor of well water, his father’s predictions to the contrary. “Aunt Deb’s coming tonight,” Roy said.“To help Aunt Phyl for a little while, now that I’m going back to work. So I want everyone to pick up the house when you get home.” Both older children answered with polite murmurs. In Eric’s opinion the house was passably clean. The toilet water was blue. Aunt Phyl had knocked down all the cobwebs. The mice mostly stayed outside now that winter had passed. Before Roy could go on, Buck leapt onto the table and gave a great yawn. He was a weathered old tomcat,left behind by a past occupant of the house and gone half-wild.With a glance he frightened Dusty the house cat back to a hiding place behind the refrigerator. “He’s probably brought in another mouse,” Roy said. “I’ll find it,”Aunt Phyl said, but she first scooped up Buck and flung him out the door. “Why can’t he stay?” Cammy asked. “Because he’s crawling with disease. It’s a wonder we’re not all foaming at the mouth.”Aunt Phyl began her search for the mouse in the dining room, occasionally calling for the kids to hurry up and eat. Kevin Cunningham 5 Cammy asked in a low voice, “What if she doesn’t find the mouse?” “We’ll smell it eventually,” Roy said. When Roy went to the bathroom Eric eased over to his place, looked into his father’s coffee mug to see what remained. Just a few grounds swimming in the brown soup at the bottom, forming...