Authors: Annabel Lyon
“Space,” the narrator says, in a voice so deep it sounds as if it comes from the bottom of the sea. Merry sighs with pleasure.
While he talks about the planets and the stars, my mind drifts. I got an email from Regan a couple of days ago. She said her mom’s house in Montreal is really old and she has a fireplace in her bedroom. She said her mom hugs her a lot and sometimes she cries. She said they were going to go to the art gallery and some vintage clothing stores her mom knows about. She said there was a lot of French everywhere, which was confusing. She liked the link to the Bollywood site, and hoped I’d email her again and tell her what I was doing, and send her more poems. “I hope we can stay friends,” was how she finished. “I’m afraid there won’t be any weird people like us at my new school.”
I read that email over and over. I’m weird? And that’s good?
“Behold, the galaxy,” the narrator says. The stars start to thicken and swish in a creamy streak. Everybody gasps. “The Milky Way!”
We watched this same movie the last time we came, with Dex and Robert. At this precise point, Robert leaned over to me and whispered, “It looks like someone sneezed all over the sky.” I laughed until I snorted, and a bunch of people shushed me, and Dex flicked me in the head.
On our way out, we go through the gift store. We buy matching plastic bracelets with glittery moons and stars.
I also get a package of freeze-dried ice cream to send to Regan.
At the last minute, I buy a postcard of the Milky Way. I’ll write my poem on the back of it. I think what I’ll do is give it to Dex. She can show it to Robert if she wants, or she can keep it to herself. I’ll try not to mind either way.
On the bus ride home, Merry falls asleep. I pull her head over to rest on my shoulder. Looking out the window, I change my mind one last time. I’ll give the postcard to Merry. She won’t understand what it means either—maybe never—but she loves the sound of it, like I do. And I know, every time she looks at it, it will make her smile.
Acknowledgments
Thanks to my agent, Denise Bukowski, and Caitlin Drake and Jennifer Notman at Penguin, for their invaluable guidance. Thanks to my family, always. I gratefully acknowledge the financial assistance of the B.C. Arts Council.