Clear Skies

by Jessica Scott Kerrin

  “Okay. Thanks, Mom.”

  The baby’s wailing got louder.

  “I’d better run. Clear skies, Arno,” his mom said.

  “Clear skies, Mom,” Arno said back.

  He hung up and wished for clouds.

  SEVEN

  Arno was surprised to hear his dad at the front door, along with Comet’s antsy pitter-patter on the tiles. It wasn’t even close to dinnertime.

  “Hey, Dad,” Arno said. “You’re early.”

  Comet made a beeline for his water bowl.

  “It’s too hot for Comet in the van,” his dad said. “I’m dropping him off, but I’ll be home in an hour or so.”

  Comet emptied his water bowl and scampered up to Arno. Arno got on his knees to play-wrestle. He flipped Comet onto his back and paddled his paws in the air.

  “Say uncle,” he teased.

  Squirming, Comet wagged his tail in glee.

  “How was the movie?” his dad asked.

  Arno stiffened.

  “Everyone loved it,” he said, straightening up.

  Arno’s dad headed back out but added, “No more treats for Comet until dinner. He just polished off his own ice cream cone. Then he knocked mine out of my hand and wolfed that, too. I think it was deliberate, the rascal.”

  Arno poured himself a glass of ice water and filled Comet’s bowl. He took both out to the porch, then dropped into one of the chairs and flipped through his stack of Life magazines while Comet slurped some water, then sprawled beside him.

  Arno settled on the issue with a chimpanzee in a spacesuit on its cover. The astrochimp was named Ham, and he had been specially trained for space travel, the first primate launched in a rocket as part of America’s space program. Arno opened up to the article, which he had read several times already.

  Beginning in July 1959, the three-year-old chimpanzee was trained to do simple, timed tasks in response to electric lights and sounds. Then, on January 31, 1961, Ham was secured for Project Mercury and was launched from Cape Canaveral, Florida, on a suborbital flight that lasted just over fifteen minutes. The whole time, he had his vital signs and tasks monitored using computers back home.

  Ham’s lever-pushing performance was only a fraction of a second slower than on Earth, and this proved that tasks could be performed in space. His capsule splashed down in the Atlantic Ocean and was recovered by a rescue ship later that day. He only suffered a bruised nose.

  Too hot to read any further, Arno lay back in his chair. He was about to close his eyes, when he spied Buddy wheeling toward him on the street, his cowboy boots pumping like a rodeo clown. He carried a large box under one arm and steered with the other so that he wobbled along the way. He pulled up onto Arno’s sidewalk and leaned his bike against the porch steps. He marched up to where Arno sat and collapsed into the empty chair beside him.

  Comet lifted his head, blinked at Buddy, then flattened back down.

  Arno turned a page of his magazine and methodically scanned the photos, hoping Buddy would see that he was otherwise engaged.

  Buddy eyed Arno’s glass of ice water.

  “Got any Tang?” he asked.

  Arno shot him a glare. Buddy’s toad smile was all the more annoying.

  “Just kidding,” Buddy said. “Look what I have.” He held up the box and shook it. Jigsaw pieces shifted inside.

  “A puzzle?” Arno said. “So what?”

  “Not just any puzzle. A modified puzzle. This is another astronaut test,” he explained, as if Arno couldn’t have guessed.

  Arno said nothing. He didn’t want to play along, although a small part of him knew that he’d enjoy watching Buddy put himself through the wringer once again.

  He didn’t have to wait long. Buddy was unstoppable when he was on a mission. He flipped off the lid. The box was filled with puzzle pieces. Buddy had written numbers on the plain backside of each piece.

  Arno plucked a puzzle piece from the box. It had the number “56” written on its back. Still, he said nothing and dropped it back into the box, knowing that his lack of enthusiasm would be small torture to Buddy.

  Buddy burst into explanation.

  “So what you do is, you put the pieces together by placing the numbers in the right order, row after row.”

  “Sounds too easy. How is this an astronaut test, exactly?”

  Buddy smiled his toady smile. He reached into his back pocket and pulled out a pair of leather gardening gloves, adult-sized.

  “You have to do it wearing these,” Buddy said.

  “That’s ridiculous,” Arno said.

  “Is not! With practice, this test will improve hand-eye coordination. And that’s critical in a space capsule with control panels. Ask any astronaut.”

  “I’ll bet,” Arno said drily. He held up the Life magazine photo spread of Ham at the controls. “It’s not like any monkey could do it.”

  Buddy’s face darkened.

  “Hey! That monkey had years of training.”

  Arno tossed the magazine on top of his stack. Reading was impossible with Buddy around.

  “Here,” Buddy said, waving the pair of gloves in Arno’s face. “You give it a try.”

  “I’d rather watch,” Arno said. “Wow me.”

  Buddy emptied the box onto the deck. He flipped all the puzzle pieces over so that the backs with the numbers faced up.

  “No cheating,” Arno said, pointing to the gloves.

  Buddy sat back on his haunches and pulled on the gloves. Then he bent over the pieces.

  He didn’t get very far and he didn’t get very fast. He fumbled and muttered and fumbled some more. He tried sandwiching a piece between two gloved thumbs to fit it into another piece. He tried licking the pointer finger of a glove and pressing down on a piece to see if it would stick long enough for him to rotate it. He tried wedging one piece under another, then sliding the top piece off into position.

  Nothing worked well or consistently.

  Buddy’s face turned redder and redder. Beads of sweat covered his forehead and upper lip. The back of his T-shirt grew wet.

  Comet got up like an old man, lazily sniffed a few puzzle pieces, then flopped down on his other side, his back to the whole scene.

  Meanwhile, Arno leaned over to assess Buddy’s progress while taking sips of his refreshing ice water.

  “Should I be timing you?” he asked.

  “Very funny,” Buddy said.

  It had been fifteen minutes, and Buddy had not even fitted two pieces together.

  “Good thing we’re not in a real emergency situation,” Arno said, noisily crunching down on an ice cube. “Like if an asteroid was hurtling toward Earth, and your job was to blast it out of the way with the push of a button.”

  “Arrrrrgh!” Buddy exclaimed. He sat back on his heels, then peeled off his sweaty gloves. “It’s just too hot.”

  Arno burst out laughing.

  But the heat was getting to him, too.

  “I’ll go get us some Popsicles.”

  Comet looked up.

  “And some more water for Comet.”

  Comet thumped his tail.

  Arno struggled out of the chair, his energy zapped by the heat. He picked up Comet’s empty water bowl and went inside. He ran the tepid water in the faucet for a while, hoping it would run cooler. It was a losing battle.

  A losing battle, Arno realized, just like visiting the observatory tomorrow night without having a panic attack. He sighed. He let the water run through his fingertips as he sank into his sad thoughts.

  Then he heard barking.

  Comet’s bark.

  An excited bark.

  Arno filled Comet’s bowl, then rushed outside.

  He couldn’t believe it! Comet was sitting in Robert’s rear bicycle basket, and Robert was wheeling him up and down the s
treet in a figure-eight pattern. Buddy and Mindy were clapping on the sidelines, cheering Comet on.

  Comet wagged his tail in delight, as if Circus Act was his middle name.

  “Hey, back off!” Arno shouted at Robert.

  Robert slowed down and put his feet on the hot pavement for a full stop. All eyes turned to Arno, including Comet’s.

  Arno stormed over, water sloshing out of the bowl he was carrying.

  “You have no right!” Arno yelled, planting himself in front of Robert’s handlebars. “Comet’s my dog!”

  “I wasn’t hurting him.” Robert sounded genuinely hurt. He reached around to scratch Comet behind the ears.

  Comet licked Robert’s hand. It was too much!

  Arno tossed the bowl to the ground and plucked his little dog from the basket. He set Comet on the dry grass in front of the bowl, which was now mostly empty. Comet hung his head.

  “I said no!”

  Arno was shaking with fury, and it didn’t help that everyone was still staring at him in surprise.

  Mindy blew the bangs out of her eyes.

  “We’re sorry, Arno,” she said. “We didn’t mean to scare you. Comet came down the porch steps when he saw me and Robert, and we were just keeping him company until you came out.”

  Her words floated toward Arno like the Milky Way softening the night sky. Arno turned from being furious to being embarrassed. He knew he was being a jerk, but then again, his plan to become an astronomer lay in ruins.

  All he could do was make grumpy noises as he scooped up Comet and the water bowl and marched back to his front porch with as much dignity as he could muster.

  Comet scooted underneath Arno’s chair, his tail wedged between his legs, and Arno set the now-empty bowl beside him. His dog made a pitiful whimper. Just one, but it was enough to crush Arno completely. Arno dumped the few ice cubes remaining in his glass into Comet’s bowl. The little dog wagged his tail and happily crunched the ice cubes from beneath Arno’s chair.

  All was forgiven.

  As Arno slouched in his chair, Mindy, Robert and Buddy whispered in a huddle on the street. Arno knew they were talking about him, the way they kept glancing his way. Then the three edged toward Arno’s front porch, Robert leading the trio.

  Arno’s shame melted as quickly as the ice cubes Comet was crunching. His anger flared.

  “Hey, there, Arno. Mind if we join you?” Robert called out hesitantly as they approached the steps.

  “I’m reading,” Arno barked.

  He scowled as he grabbed a random issue from his stack and opened it to a dog-eared article, one that he had read plenty of times.

  It was about the planets.

  When Robert reached the top step, he cautiously leaned forward to have a look.

  “Cool! The planets! One of my favorite topics,” he said brightly.

  “I doubt it,” Arno said. “This is about science. Sci-ence. Not fortune telling.”

  “Hey,” Mindy chimed in. “It’s too hot out here to bicker. I’m sure Robert wants to hear about planets just as much as the rest of us.”

  “Not me,” Buddy said. “Planets are for babies compared to space flight.”

  All three stared at him.

  “Think about it,” he continued. “Rockets. Heat shields. Flying through zero gravity. Astronomy’s boring in comparison.”

  It was all Arno could do not to go ape. Yes, Robert had completely ruined Arno’s career, but was he truly to blame? After all, he didn’t know about Arno’s claustrophobia when he talked about the observatory. And yes, Mindy should have sided with Arno, but then again, all she really wanted was for everyone to get along.

  But, Buddy?

  Buddy knew full well how much astronomy meant to Arno. And now he threw it in Arno’s face like a vicious knockout punch by Floyd Patterson in the twelfth round.

  It was too much.

  “Boring? You think astronomy is boring?” Arno demanded with such force, Comet jumped to all fours.

  “Boring. That’s right. I said it. Bor-ing. Boring with a capital B.”

  “Unbelievable,” Arno said, his face on fire. “If you think you’ll be flying around in outer space one day without a basic understanding of astronomy, then you better think again.”

  “I know enough,” Buddy said, crossing his arms.

  “Is that so,” Arno said. “Let’s just see.”

  He returned to his article about planets and flipped to a page that showed a full-color drawing of each of them arranged in a grid, three by three.

  “Pop quiz,” Arno announced as he turned the magazine around so that Buddy could see it. Arno randomly pointed to one of the drawings. “Which planet is this?”

  When Buddy didn’t immediately respond, Arno added, “I’ll give you a hint. It’s the smallest one in our solar system.”

  “Pluto,” Buddy blurted. “And I don’t need any hints.”

  “Easy guess,” Arno said. “What about this one?”

  He pointed to another planet. It was yellowish.

  “I know!” Mindy jumped in. “It’s named after the Goddess of Love.”

  “Venus,” Buddy said after a pause.

  “Don’t help him,” Arno said, eyes narrowing. “And this?” He pointed to an orangey-brown one.

  “Jupiter?” Buddy said it like a question.

  “Are you asking me?” Arno asked, eyebrows raised.

  “Jupiter,” Buddy said nervously.

  Mindy and Robert applauded.

  “According to astrologists, Jupiter is linked to good luck and bounty,” Robert said.

  “Get real,” Arno said. He turned back to Buddy. “What about this one?”

  He pointed to a dark gray planet.

  “Is that our moon? Buddy asked.

  “Is our moon a planet?” Arno asked.

  “No.” Buddy paused. “Then that must be Mercury.”

  “You’re running out of planets,” Robert said in a sing-song way. “And Buddy’s passing with flying colors.”

  Arno scanned what was left. Buddy absolutely deserved to fail because he had insulted astronomy. But all that remained of the solar system was Saturn with its giveaway rings, Earth with its all-too-obvious blue oceans and white clouds, blueish Neptune, blue-green Uranus, and red Mars. Everyone knew Mars, Arno reasoned, so he had to decide between Neptune and Uranus.

  Buddy interrupted his thoughts.

  “Hey. You said the Moon wasn’t a planet.”

  “It’s not,” Arno said. “It’s Earth’s only natural satellite.”

  “Then why is the Moon on this page?”

  “What you mean?”

  “Well, this one here is Mercury, right?” Buddy pointed to Mercury, which was dark gray and not the Moon.

  Arno nodded.

  “So this one must be the Moon.” He pointed to Mars. “You’re trying to trick me.”

  “What are you talking about?” Arno asked. “That’s Mars.”

  “It can’t be Mars,” Buddy said. “Look at it. It’s almost exactly like Mercury.”

  Robert and Mindy leaned in with Arno to have a better look. It was nothing like Mercury. It was red. It was Mars, all right.

  “Busted!” Robert said. “You got all the tricky ones, but you messed up on the red planet.”

  Buddy looked at Robert, then Mindy.

  “He’s right,” Mindy said with a shrug. “Mars is easy. You can’t botch that one.”

  “Fun fact,” Arno added. “Mars is red because the iron in its rocks rusted over time. Mars used to have more liquid water and an atmosphere that contained more oxygen, which caused the rusting that we see today.”

  Buddy stared at the picture of Mars. He blinked.

  Then, without another word, he left the porch, got on his bike and pedaled away.

/>   “Something we said?” Robert asked.

  “Weird,” Mindy agreed.

  Arno tossed his magazine back on the pile. He looked at Buddy’s abandoned puzzle on the deck. Another failed astronaut test. But this time, it didn’t feel good kicking Buddy when he was down.

  Comet hung his stubby tail as he watched Buddy disappear.

  EIGHT

  Right after Buddy’s unexplained departure, Mindy and Robert bailed, too.

  “I should cut out,” Mindy said to Arno. “I left an experiment cooling in my garage.”

  “I’ll come with you,” Robert said, and they headed for her house.

  Abandoned on the porch, Arno and Comet dozed in the heat. When Arno woke up, the Sun was starting to draw longer shadows from the trees that lined his street. It was almost dinnertime.

  As he got up to go inside, he noticed that the lid of the mailbox beside his front door was ajar. Arno’s heart did a little skip when he saw that the latest Life magazine was among the bills and letters. All new articles to read!

  Arno dropped the mail onto the front hall table, then scanned the contents of the magazine.

  He gasped. There was an article about Pluto! Arno wanted to dig right in.

  But wait! Maybe he could use his excitement in an experiment. Arno rooted through the drawer of the hallway table and found a flashlight. He tested the batteries with the on/off switch. Perfect!

  He took the magazine and the flashlight to the front hall closet. He opened the door and, taking a deep, steadying breath, squeezed inside and sat down beneath the jackets hanging above his head.

  “You coming?” he asked Comet, who had been traipsing after him the whole time.

  Comet lowered his little head slightly, but obediently followed Arno into the closet. Together they sat facing each other. Arno closed the closet door.

  It was dark. And smelly. There were a lot of his brothers’ giant sneakers heaped beneath the jackets.

  Arno reasoned that if he could somehow focus on his excitement about astronomy, then that would keep his mind off triggers that caused a panic attack. No panic attack, no claustrophobia. And if he practiced here in his front hall closet, then maybe he could pull it off at the observatory.