This made the boy feel mischievous, so he hopped into the air and flew the rest of the way beside the girl, all the way to her house. He heard people clapping behind him.
“This is a very strange town that you have here,” he said.
The girl nodded. “It is.” And she opened the door to her home.
There wasn’t any furniture inside, just a soft blanket on the floor for a bed. But there were shiny things and hanging things and feathers and tiny castanets that made sounds and chimes and all sorts of flowers that were lying in happy piles here and there.
“I like it this way,” said the girl.
They sat down and ate some sort of spiky fruit that was actually quite good when you cut the outside off. Midway through the girl stood up and brushed off her dress.
“I will be right back,” she said, and ran out the door. The boy watched her through a window. She ran into a store, picked up a jug of some sort, and left money on the counter. Nobody talked to her. Nobody even looked at her. She came back and poured out two cups of juice. The boy held his cup in his strange hands and frowned.
“Why doesn’t anybody talk to you?” he asked her. “They act like they don’t even know you’re there.”
The girl looked up in surprise. “Oh! Well, nobody can see me.”
The boy blinked. “Nobody can see you? Nobody at all?”
The girl shook her head. “No. Nobody can hear me, either. Except for the animals. They know that I’m there.”
This puzzled the winged boy. “But I can see you.”
The girl smiled very big. “I know.”
As the boy flew home that night, he thought about the invisible girl who didn’t have anybody to talk to except for him. The girl had said something unusual that evening during dinner.
“If your hands were always that way,” she’d said, “then it must be for a reason. Why, I don’t think that they’re broken at all!”
The wind whistled through the holes in his hands as he flew, and maybe for the first time, he didn’t really mind.
The next time that the invisible girl walked down to the river, she found a piece of paper wrapped around a rock and tied with a string. “Come back tonight,” it said, “and I’ll show you.”
Show me what? wondered the girl, but she was excited, and put the paper in her pocket.
“What did it say?” asked the river, trying desperately to get a look. But it is common knowledge that rivers can’t read.
“He’s going to show me,” she said.
“Show you what?”
“That’s what I thought.”
The river played around and wondered what the girl was going to see, and generally made a nuisance of itself, gurgling and whistling loudly. But the girl still sat there, and thought about what the boy might show her. She threw the rock into the river.
“Ow,” said the river.
Somehow the girl couldn’t manage to make herself be sorry.
It was almost dark. The girl had fallen asleep by the water and woke up to the boy shaking her shoulder. “Are you ready?” he said.
She was.
He said, “Okay, don’t let this scare you,” and wrapped his arms around her. They flew straight up into the air.
She was indeed scared. Very much. But flying was exciting, too. She tried not to see how there was nothing under her feet.
“Where are we going?” she asked calmly. She was very proud of herself for being so calm.
“We’re going to where I sleep. I need to get something. And I told you not to be scared.”
“I’m not scared.”
The boy laughed. “You’re not a very good liar. But you really will be okay. All right. Here is where we want to be.”
The boy put her down, very gently. She looked around at where she was.
“You sleep in a nest?”
The boy nodded. He wondered if he should be embarrassed.
“I think it’s wonderful!” the girl said, and flopped backward into the nest. The boy smiled and reached for a large, velvet bag.
The bag was very dark and very soft and when the boy shook it, it jingled.
“What’s inside?” asked the girl.
“Something very special.”
The girl moved closer to get a better look. The boy opened the flap of the bag slowly, and they both peered inside.
“There’s light in there!”
“Just watch.”
Suddenly a bright little light burst out of the bag and buzzed around their heads. The girl fell back, but the boy merely closed the bag and watched.
The light dove and swirled and sputtered around for a while, and then it landed in the boy’s hair with a faint chiming sound. The girl stared at it in wonder.
“It’s a star!”
“It is.”
The star snuggled down in the boy’s hair and made a high, happy sound.
“What is it doing?” she asked.
“It’s purring. Stars purr when they’re happy, you know. And this is a very happy little star. Hold out your hand.”
The girl did as he asked. The star hopped into her hand and chimed brightly. Then it twinkled and purred there, too.
The girl looked at the boy. “You get to play with stars every night?”
The boy shook his head. “Not play, exactly. Work. Here, I’ll show you. It’s time.”
The boy whistled and the star hopped onto his shoulder. He grabbed the girl and the bag and flew into the sky.
The girl was getting a little more used to flying, and wasn’t nearly half as nervous as she had been before.
“See? I told you that I was calm,” she informed the boy.
“Of course you are.”
They flew higher and higher, and finally the boy made his way to a little cloud. “You can sit here,” he said, and dropped her on it.
She started to scream, but was surprised when she landed on the cloud like it was a soft pillow. She looked at the boy.
“I thought that clouds couldn’t really hold you up. I thought that they were like fog that way.”
The boy opened his bag and started poking around inside. The star buzzed around his head. “Those are just stories that people tell. Clouds and fog aren’t at all alike, but most people don’t know that anymore. But I do.” He smiled at the girl. “Are you ready to see what I do every night?”
The girl nodded, and crawled over closer to where the boy was hovering. “Yes, very much.” She tried to peek inside of the bag.
The boy brought out a handful of shining stars. They clinked against each other delightfully. “I do this,” he said, and threw them into the sky.
The stars flew into the air and stuck in the sky. They twinkled gently. The girl gasped and turned to look at the boy.
“What makes them hang up there like that?”
The boy shrugged his shoulders. “I’m not sure. There aren’t hooks. I checked. It is more like they, somehow, stick.”
The girl smiled. “I think it’s wonderful. Will you please do some more?”
The boy did. He threw out handful after handful of stars, and they all found their place in the sky. Then one of the stars slipped through the hole in his hand, and fell to the ground.
“Oh no,” said the boy.
The girl leaned over the edge of the cloud and watched the star fall. “What’s wrong?” she asked the boy.
He looked very unhappy. “It’s these hands. I told you that I drop things. Now that star is wasted.”
“Wasted?” asked the girl in disbelief.
The boy nodded. “Wasted.”
The girl smiled. This confused the boy.
“Why are you smiling?” he asked her.
“I don’t think that star is wasted at all!” exclaimed the girl.
“What?”
“In my village, whenever we see a star fall like that, it is called a shooting star. A wishing star. They’re quite delightful!”
“A...wishing star?”
The girl nodded hap
pily. “Yes! A wishing star. If you make a wish on that star, it will come true. I should know; I’ve made dozens myself.”
“Really?”
“Really!” The girl looked at the boy. “So all of this time, you felt badly about these stars dropping through the holes in your hands. When really, it makes people very happy when they do. Silly boy.”
He thought about this. He thought that it made him happy. And when he was happy, his chest hurt. He put his hand over his heart.
“What is it?”
“It’s nothing,” said the boy. “I think I must be happy. Anyway, I have something else to show you. I think this will help you in the village.”
“Really?” asked the girl, excited. But the boy didn’t answer. He had already picked her up and was flying back to the nest.
The girl was quite pleased that she didn’t scream at all.
When they got back to the nest, the boy dug around until he came up with a small box. “Are you ready?” he asked the girl. She nodded, and he opened it.
Inside were many tiny, tiny little stars. They made small sounds and crawled over each other, seeming very pleased to see the boy and the girl.
“They’re beautiful,” whispered the girl. “Why are they so small?”
“They’re babies,” said the boy, and he tried to pick one up. It was so tiny that it slid right through the hole in his hand back into the box. He looked at the girl. “They’re too small for me to throw into the sky, so I keep them here until they get bigger. But I think that they get bored.”
The girl watched them closely. It looked like the little stars were chasing each other in a circle. “Are they playing?”
“Yes. Stars like to play. But they also like to see things, and they don’t get to see much inside of a box. Hold out your hand.”
The girl did so. The boy whispered something to the stars, and the girl heard several happy little chimes. She looked at the boy. “What are they doing?”
“Cheering. Just watch.”
The little stars swarmed into the girl’s hand, and then began to orbit her wrist. They felt cool and bright and made the girl very happy.
“Now you can take them with you,” said the boy. “They really are very happy little things, and I think that you’ll enjoy them. And they’ll get out of the box.”
The girl held her wrist up to her face. The stars seemed to be having a lovely time. “Thank you very much!” she said to the boy, and meant it. He smiled.
“You’re welcome. But there’s another reason that I gave it to you. Come on.” He grabbed her and they headed back to the village.
They landed in the center of town, and the girl looked around her. “What is it that I’m supposed to see?”
“I have a theory,” the boy said. He waited until he saw an old man walk toward them. Then he politely said, “Hello, sir. Do you see this girl here?”
The girl tugged the boy’s sleeve. “I told you that nobody can...”
The old man peered at the girl strangely. “Do I know you?” he asked her.
The girl blinked in surprise. Her mouth fell open. She didn’t know what to say. “I...I don’t know. Do you?”
The old man studied her face. “There was a girl who looked a lot like you, years ago. But she disappeared after her parents died. And she didn’t glow like you do.”
“Glow?” asked the girl.
The old man snorted. “She doesn’t know that she glows?” he asked the boy. They boy shook his head.
“She was invisible until about half an hour ago, you see.”
“Ah,” said the old man knowingly. He turned back to the girl. “You,” he said matter-of-factly, “glow.”
“I do?”
“You do. In fact, there’s no color to you, just light. I think that if you didn’t glow, I wouldn’t see you at all. You’re a very lucky young lady.”
“Um...thank you, sir,” said the girl.
He nodded. “You’re welcome.” And he slowly walked away.
They watched him leave. Then the boy turned to the girl. “What do you want to do now?”
She was slightly shaken. “I think that I want to go home,” she said, and the boy thought that was a fine idea. But it didn’t turn out to be as easy as all that.
It really was a very small village, and when the people heard that there was a boy with wings and a glowing girl, they all wanted to see for themselves. Before long there was a crowd of people pressed around the boy and the girl, and it became quite frightening.
“Hey, I know you!” shouted a voice over the crowd. “You look just like your mother!” Soon other people were shouting about how they recognized the girl, or how they wanted to see the boy fly, or wondering how they could get a bracelet of stars for themselves. It took several minutes until the boy and girl managed to push their way into the little house.
“That was terrible,” said the girl. Her clothes were torn and her hair had been patted and touched and plucked. One of the stars stuck its tongue out at the people still gathered outside.
“That was rather awkward,” agreed the boy as he flopped on the floor. He was missing several long feathers, and his hair was even more wild than usual. “But at least they can see you.”
“Yes,” said the girl, and she smiled. “I am very happy for that. You don’t have to leave, do you?” She looked terrified when the boy started to stand up, and he quickly sat back down. The sky didn’t necessarily need stars tonight.
“No, I can stay,” he said, and they sat very close together, trying to go to sleep.
But it was impossible. The curious people stayed outside of the house, knocking on the doors and peeking in the windows, and the girl had become quite nervous. The boy thought for a while, and then stood up quickly.
“Let’s go,” he said, and they ran out of the house and were up in the sky before the people below them had time to realize what was going on.
When they got to the nest, the boy dropped the girl off and flew off to toss a few stars in the sky, just for fun. When he returned, the girl had already fallen asleep. She had her hand stretched out, and as the boy curled up next to her, he thought that her hand looked very empty, somehow. He thought of what he could put in it, but nothing seemed to fit. Finally he slid his own hand inside of hers, and then nodded with satisfaction. That was exactly right. He realized with some delight that his wings tucked just as nicely around two as they did around just himself, and as he drifted off to sleep he put his other hand on his chest, which was hurting him again.
“Why do you keep touching your chest?” the girl asked him a few days later. The river leaned close to listen. It was very curious, as well.
“Because it hurts sometimes,” said the boy.
“Do you know why?”
“Not really,” he said. He changed the subject. “How are things in the village?”
The girl leaned back in the grass. “Much better, now that people are more used to me. I have some people there that remember my parents. And some of them remember me, too, before I stopped talking. And I guess when you stop talking...”
“People stop seeing you.”
“Right.” The girl watched the boy out of the corner of her eye. He was rubbing his hand over his heart again.
“You must be hurting more and more lately,” she said.
The boy frowned. “I think it is because I have never been so happy. I’ve never really had a friend before...ow.”
The girl was worried. “Let me see.”
“No.”
“But I really want to.”
“No,” he said again.
“Please?”
The boy sighed, and then slowly unbuttoned his shirt. He pointed to his heart. “See?” he said.
The girl gasped. The boy’s heart was beating quite nicely inside of his chest. It wasn’t hidden at all.
“Your heart!” she exclaimed.
“What about it?”
“I can see it!”
“Well, of course you can
.”
The girl shook her head. “No, a heart is usually deep inside of somebody’s chest. You can’t see mine. Here, take a look.” She showed the boy the skin covering her heart.
He was shocked. “But how do you know that it is there?”
“You can feel it. Put your hand here.” The girl put the boy’s hand on her heart, and she was right. He could feel it beating.
“Amazing,” he said.
“Can I look at yours some more?” she asked him.
The difference in their hearts interested him. “Of course.”
The girl put her face very close to the boy’s heart, and watched it beat. Gently, she stretched out her finger and touched it. It was icy cold.
“It’s beautiful,” she told the boy. “I like it very much.”
This made the boy very happy. His heart started to swell. Immediately, he gasped and clutched at his chest.
“Ah,” said the girl. “I see what the problem is.”
“What is it?” asked the boy after he caught his breath. He noticed that the girl looked worried.
“Your heart has ice around it,” said the girl. She touched his heart again. “That’s why it is so cold. Did you know this?”
“Aren’t all hearts icy?” he asked.
The girl shook her head. “No, they’re not. Ice around a heart is a very bad thing. I remember my mother talking about it before. When you get happy, or love somebody, your heart gets bigger. But if there is ice around it, then there isn’t any room for it to grow. It will try, but it will run into the ice and just...”
“Hurt,” said the boy. He rubbed his chest.
“Yes.”
The boy thought about this. “Sometimes it feels better not to be happy. Because it doesn’t hurt as much.”
The girl nodded. “Much of the world thinks so. But wouldn’t you rather be happy?”
“I don’t know,” he said simply. “I’m not really sure what happiness is.”
The girl bit her lip, studying his heart. She looked up at the boy. “I know how to fix it,” she said. She looked worried.
“What’s wrong?” asked the boy. “Isn’t fixing it a good thing?”
The girl was quiet for a long time. Then she said, “I’m afraid that it is going to hurt you very badly.”
The boy was surprised. The girl stood up and pulled a long, sharp branch off of one of the trees. Her face was serious. “Are you ready, boy?”
Beautiful Sorrows Page 3
