Falling Stars

by Charles Sheehan-Miles

  I didn’t want her to be lonely any more.

  At the end of the driveway, in a loose row, were five cars. All of them classics. Three on blocks, all five of them in various stages of repair and restoration. A truly ancient car, a Ford Model A, was parked a little closer to the house. The Model A was highly polished, chrome and wood paneling gleaming, the whitewall tires flawlessly clean, spokes polished and reflective.

  The trailer was a large doublewide with a wood front deck decorated with potted plants. A dog barked inside as I stopped the car, and a moment later the front door opened and a beautiful German shepherd with a shiny coat of grey and brown ran out of the house, followed by a large man.

  The man wore jeans and a blood red t-shirt with the USMC logo over the pocket. He was almost bald, with a very short fringe of salt and pepper hair, but he didn’t look old. He had thick pistons for arms and the t-shirt was stretched by tightly bunched shoulder and chest muscles. His nose was flat against his face and slightly crooked. This guy was a warrior and knew it, but his face was round and his smile infectious. I couldn’t figure out his ethnic makeup. It would be hard to find a name more Wonder Bread than Barry Lewis, but his facial features were almost Polynesian. I wasn’t going to ask.

  Julia’s breath caught when she saw him. Then she jumped out of the car and ran up the stairs.

  Lewis held his arms out and she threw hers around his neck. She didn’t see it, but I did—his eyes went red and wet with tears as they embraced.

  “Julia Thompson,” he said quietly, his voice catching. “I never thought I’d see you again, baby girl,” he admitted in a ragged, rough voice.

  Jesus Christ, I thought, looking at him. First, he was massive. Frightening. Second, he was clearly completely undone by the sight of Julia as an adult.

  Sean and Carrie stepped out of the car. Carrie was tentative as she watched her sister greet the man.

  Lewis smiled, breaking off the embrace. “You must be little Carrie. Do you remember me?”

  “A little,” Carrie admitted almost shyly. “I remember you were huge, and your blue uniform. That’s about it.”

  “Not surprised,” he said. “You was pretty young last time we saw each other.” He reached out and pulled her into an embrace.

  Even though she barely remembered him, Carrie’s face did some interesting things, her eyes watering. And then she said something in a breathy voice that nearly broke my heart. “Thanks for taking care of my big sis when she needed it.”

  “Oh, for Christ’s sake,” he said good-naturedly, “y’all are gonna make me cry. Let’s get inside.”

  At that, the spell was broken. Julia introduced me and Sean, and the four of us, plus the German shepherd, followed Lewis inside. Just inside the door was a surprisingly spacious and well-kept living area. Two couches sat at right angles to each other, surrounding a glass-topped coffee table. The central wall was dominated by a 24x36 inch photograph of a much younger Barry Lewis in his dress blues with the three stripes of a Sergeant, holding a beautiful blonde woman in a wedding dress. He leaned back in the photo, one heel kicked out behind her, a tremendous smile on her face, their eyes meeting each other. The photo was surrounded by a mix of family photos including two little girls, both of them with dark hair and eyes.

  I paused near the door as the dog began to bark again.

  “Monica, sit.”

  “Your dog is named Monica?” Sean asked.

  “Well, yeah. Monica Lewinsky.”

  Julia winced and Carrie laughed out loud.

  A woman popped her head in from the kitchen. “Hi, y’all. I’m still cooking, but I’ll come introduce myself in a few.”

  “You just get in there and cook, woman,” Lewis teased.

  She gave him the finger with an impish grin, then disappeared.

  “Well. That’s Dea, my boss.”

  “Your boss?” Julia replied.

  “Well…wife…whatever,” he explained and everyone chuckled. “The girls are at their grandparents for a few days before school starts again.”

  “That’s okay,” Julia said.

  “It’s not really. I don’t understand why they insist on sending the kids back.”

  Watching the interaction between Barry Lewis and Julia, I realized suddenly who he reminded me of. My dad. Not because of his looks, because he looked nothing like Dad, but something in his easy smile and friendly banter. It made me feel a wave of homesickness, which was crazy, because I left home at sixteen and never wanted to look back.

  “All right,” Lewis said. “Dinner will be ready in forty minutes or so. Let me show you your rooms and such.”

  Lewis led us all down the hallway. “All right. Boys in here, girls down there.”

  Well, that was awkward. I couldn’t even sleep with Julia? I started to open my mouth and object. Then I stopped. I wasn’t going to argue with a six foot five, two hundred forty pound Marine.

  Besides, it’s not like we’d really been sleeping together much anyway.

  Big brother (Julia)

  Dea Lewis was a tiny woman, almost mousy, and even though her heels gave her an extra inch or two, in socks she was most definitely under five feet tall. Next to her giant of a husband, she looked like a midget, but she clearly didn’t let her size get in the way of getting what she wanted, because as she finished preparing dinner, she began to order Barry around like she was a drill sergeant.

  Like any smart man, he did as he was told.

  A few minutes later, the five of us were sitting down at the table, all except Dea, who fluttered around like a bird, hauling plates, glasses and covered dishes from the kitchen to the table. She’d firmly declined offers to help, placing large white plates covered with what appeared to be balls of leaves the color of spinach in some kind of sauce in front of us.

  Carrie looked interested and Sean horrified. Crank’s eyes darted to me, then to Sean.

  “This is lu’au,” Barry said. “My favorite dish from back home.”

  Dea laughed. “Tacos would be a dish from home for you.”

  “You be quiet. Just because you raise a Samoan in Texas doesn’t make him a country boy.”

  “What’s in it?” Sean asked.

  Dea smiled. “It’s taro leaves, soaked and baked in coconut oil.”

  Crank and Sean never ate anything other than meat and potatoes. I covertly eyed both of them, but neither said a word. Sean tentatively reached out with a fork and took a microscopic bite. Then his eyes widened and he started eating.

  That was proof. Sean and Crank were still basically children.

  Dea smiled at Sean’s zeal and finally sat down.

  “You’re from Samoa?” Sean asked.

  “My mother is,” Barry explained. “Dad’s from Texas. He met her when he was in the Army, of course, and brought her back here. But we always went back home to see the family every couple years or so. Now tell me how you two met?”

  I smiled. “Anti-war protest last fall,” I said. “Crank’s band was playing; I was part of the organizing team.”

  Dea frowned, but Barry said, “Good for you. So you guys met at this protest and what… started dating right away?”

  I smiled and looked over at Crank, trying to hide the hole in my chest. “Not right away. I was a little slow to open up.”

  “Not surprised, given your bullshit childhood,” he observed.

  “Barry!” Dea said reprovingly.

  “It’s true, Dea. Julia and Carrie here, they had everything as kids. Except parents. Their parents were too busy with their own lives to be there for their kids. I was in the Corps then and had to keep my trap shut, but I can say whatever the fuck I want now.”

  The profanity angered his wife. She flushed red. “Not at my dinner table, you can’t.”

  “Well…”

  “Barry…”

  “Sorry,” he muttered. “I didn’t mean to say fuck. But anyway, seriously. I loved these little girls like they was our own.”

  “I’ll always think
of you like a big brother,” I said. I knew I was being a little ridiculously mushy, that was clear enough from the rolled eyeballs all around the room. I didn’t care. Barry Lewis pulled me through the loneliest days of my life. I didn’t have to justify my affection for him to anyone.

  My eyes went to Crank. I loved him. But lately, even with Crank, I’d been feeling lonely and unsure of myself. And I didn’t want to feel that way anymore.

  Falling Stars (Crank)

  The talk had gone on long enough, really. Don’t get me wrong. I appreciated Barry Lewis on a hundred different levels, most especially for taking care of Julia when she couldn’t do it herself, and when her parents weren’t there for her. He was a good guy and a good friend to her. He was their family, really.

  But not mine. Right now, I felt more distant from Julia than I’d felt since those cold days when she’d broken up with me after taking over as manager of the band, when we’d been all about business, all about work; when I hadn’t been able to touch her or whisper in her ear or love her the way she deserved.

  When Barry and Julia moved to the living room to sit and talk over coffee, I excused myself. I needed to get some air, so I stepped out into the dark Texas night and went for a walk.

  Random fact I realized once my eyes adjusted: in twenty-two years of living in Boston, I’d never known that the full moon was bright enough to illuminate the ground and make it perfectly safe to walk around at night. The light was silver, unearthly, and washed over the landscape leaving deep black shadows on the blasted landscape. It was magnificent.

  As I walked, I thought back over this summer and wondered why we’d so pointlessly argued. Why I’d responded the way I had. Because when I thought about it, there was no question, really, that it was all my fault. I’d been a jerk. I’d been jealous. Preston was a little prick, but I’d been the one to act like an idiot.

  My footsteps were light as I walked, not really paying attention to my direction. The driveway was nearly a mile long, so I could just follow it and not get lost. I was probably two hundred yards from the house when I looked up and saw the sky.

  I’m understating here. It’s not that I saw the sky. It’s that I saw the sky. And I took in a breath in a quick gasp, because the huge dome of the sky was speckled with thousands upon thousands of stars, so densely packed that in some places they looked like clouds.

  I’d never seen a sky like that.

  It wasn’t silent out here, not at all… In fact, it was wicked loud. Crickets and frogs and other creatures, which I had no idea what they were, gave a loud, ongoing accompaniment to the silent symphony happening in the sky. As I stared up there, I felt peace come over me in a way I’d not felt in a long time.

  And that was the moment it happened. My head was tilted back, mouth open watching the heavens, when a flash of light crossed above me in an instant, a quick line of dreams slicing across the sky. A falling star.

  I quickly made a wish. Then I closed my eyes. Wishes on falling stars might be a load of bullshit, but maybe this wish, I could do something about. Yes, we’d had a rough couple of months. Yes, I’d done some stupid things. But nothing I’d said or done, nothing Julia had said or done, was unforgivable. It was time for us to talk.

  I turned and began walking back up the driveway. I was probably only ten steps further when I heard the voices. I stopped immediately.

  As it turns out, on a dark night in Texas, with no traffic or buildings to speak of all the way to the horizon, voices can carry a long way. It took me a long time to figure out where they were coming from, but then I finally placed it and saw two silhouettes perched on the hood of a car halfway between me and the house. The voices were unmistakable. Carrie and Sean.

  It was maddening. I could just hear their voices, but I couldn’t make out the words. Not that it was any of my business. I should make some noise and continue on my path in their direction so they couldn’t mistake my approach or think I was eavesdropping. As it turned out, there was no need. Within two minutes I heard, “God, you are such a dick!”

  At those words, Sean stood and paced. I heard a few more unclear words, then he stalked off. With Sean it’s hard to tell—his posture is always stiff, his tone of voice always a little too loud—but he seemed to be angry as he walked away.

  Carrie, still sitting on the hood of the car, didn’t move at all. I kept walking, slowly so as to not scare her.

  “Hey, Crank,” she said when she saw me.

  “Hey… You doing okay?”

  She nodded in the darkness. “Yeah. I’m…” She shook her head, then spoke in a challenging tone. “Are all guys complete idiots, or just you and your brother?”

  Huh? I slid up onto the hood of the car. It was an old seventies Mercedes with a mottled rusty hood and a cracked windshield.

  I tried to look thoughtful for a few seconds. “I think it’s pretty much all guys.”

  She snickered.

  “Seriously, what’s going on?”

  She shrugged. “Sean …”

  I looked at her, question marks running in a small circle around my head. “Are you and Sean… um?”

  “No. But… I mean…it’s not…” She let out a loud growl.

  I raised my eyebrows. “I don’t get it.”

  “It’s just that… I see what you and Julia have, and I’m watching you throw it all away, and it just makes me feel like you’re a pack of idiots. She worships you, Crank. Do you know how rare that is? I’ll be lucky if I ever find anyone I love half as much.”

  “What makes you say that?”

  “Um, look at me. I’m fifteen feet tall. I’m a science geek. Every guy I knew in high school either froze up around me or was a complete dick. That’s part of what I love about Sean.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Well, it’s not like he’s my type, but at least he doesn’t constantly filter himself, afraid if he opens his mouth I’ll reject him or something.”

  I snorted. “Sean’s not capable of filtering himself.”

  She sneered and shook her head. “Of course he is,” she retorted. “I know for a fact he hasn’t told you how mad he is about what’s going on with you and Julia. Which takes me back to what an idiot you are. I’d do anything for what you and Julia have.”

  I sighed. “Carrie, you know, someday you’ll find a guy who will be your soulmate. Someone you would do anything for. Someone who makes you feel whole.”

  She gently shook her head in frustration. “When I do, I guarantee you I’ll stand by him. I’ll be his strength, and he’ll be mine. I won’t let some stupid jealous bullshit get in the way of who I love. It’s a damn shame to see you and Julia doing that.”

  “It’s not that simple,” I protested.

  “Bullshit. It is that simple. You go to her. You tell her you’re sorry and ask for forgiveness. The end.”

  I wanted to ask why I was the one who needed to ask for forgiveness. She’d been a horrible, cold bitch for weeks. And that was after flirting with Preston Dickhead from Harvard. Why the hell didn’t she need to apologize?

  I realized thinking that way made me sound like a toddler, but I couldn’t help it.

  The thing is, realizing it doesn’t actually change anything. I knew it was stupid. I knew I needed to go to her and ask for forgiveness. But I didn’t want to.

  I couldn’t help but wonder how much that stubbornness might cost me. Possibly everything. I let out a sigh. “I don’t think she’ll ever forgive me, Carrie. I mean…would you?”

  She leaned close and rested a hand on my shoulder. “That’s something you and Julia are going to have to figure out. But don’t let the chance go by, Crank. You can’t let her go without trying.”

  I groaned and leaned back against the hood of the car, looking up at the sky. Falling stars might be bullshit, and I knew just wishing wasn’t going to be enough. If I wanted her, I had to go to her.

  I’ll talk to him (Julia)

  When the sun shone through the window and my eyes opened,
a thousand sweet little elves simultaneously drove roofing nails into my brain. I winced and closed my eyes and tried to reassess where I was and what I was doing.

  I was at Barry Lewis’s place in Seminole, Texas. I’d had a drink, or possibly two, with dinner, then more after. At one point I remember Sean and Carrie going for a walk, then Crank excusing himself. Had I talked with Barry about Crank?

  I couldn’t remember, which was awkward and embarrassing because I’m not a heavy drinker. Certainly not a heavy enough drinker to black out. But the last I could remember was talking in very vague terms about the tour and trying not to get into what had happened.

  This was uncomfortable, in particular because I didn’t want Barry beating up Crank, and there was no doubt in my mind that he would do so if sufficiently provoked.

  I heard tense voices out in the hall and froze. Crank’s voice. Carrie. Sean. Barry. All of them were out there, I wasn’t there to keep the peace, and I might have caused the problem in the first place. I needed to get my ass out of bed and make sure Crank was okay.

  I threw the sheet back and stumbled out of the bed way too suddenly, my head pounding and my body moving in a hundred directions at once. The first thing that happened was I left the bed. The second thing that happened was my head hit the bedroom door with a loud crack. I fell down to my knees, and I would have been fine from there, but apparently everyone in the hall heard my head hit the door, because a herd of feet moved down the hall like a pack of elephants on a rampage and then the door was pushed open by Carrie too quickly and too hard. The door flung open and smacked me right in the face.

  “Ow!” I cried out.

  “Julia!” Carrie shouted. She looked concerned. Dea, standing next to her, raised a hand to her mouth. Crank’s mouth dropped open. Sean and Barry both blushed deep red and turned away, and that’s when I realized that not only could I feel a nosebleed coming on, but that I also had on neither shirt nor bra.