All the Major Constellations (14 page)

ANDREW WALKED ALONG THE BEACH with bare feet. The sand felt icy and gritty between his toes. When he stopped and tried to get the grains out, he found they were impacted and had formed a kind of webbing. Disgusted, he reached for the chisel in his pocket, the one that Neal had given him, but it was gone. A yellowish moon rose high above him, casting silver and gold light along the length of the beach. He looked back and forth and saw that the shoreline was endless and the ocean was dry. He wasn't on the beach; he was in a desert. And he was alone. Alone, alone, alone.

Andrew awoke to the painful sound of the alarm clock. It made an angry beeping noise that he was not accustomed to. He usually woke up a few minutes before it went off to avoid the sound.

It was three a.m. Becky did not stir as he left the room to shower. The swelling in his face was almost completely gone. After he'd showered, dressed, and changed his shirt at least three times, Andrew went down to the kitchen and quickly drank a cup of coffee. He glanced at the clock and saw that he had to leave in five minutes.

“Becky, get up,” he called.

Becky trotted down the stairs and gave him a look of irritation that made Andrew laugh. He fed her, grabbed his jacket, and stuffed some dog treats and his Bible into his pockets. After he got in the car, he realized that he'd forgotten to look for a flashlight.
Screw it,
he thought. There were bound to be extra flashlights, and he didn't want to be late picking up Laura.

Getting to drive Laura was a major coup. He had finally gotten her on the phone yesterday afternoon and casually mentioned that he had lost the directions to Matt's house. She had come up with the idea of Andrew picking her up—that way she could simply direct him to Matt's house. John was going to drive her, she'd said, but Andrew lived closer. “Makes sense,” Andrew had said.

It was dark and cool at this hour of the morning. The air felt cleaner, too, as if the sky and even the air had been washed overnight. He looked up at the pale light of the moon and thought of Laura. He had set goals for himself; he had even written them down in his journal. No matter what, by week's end, he would kiss her.

Laura was waiting on the steps when he pulled up to her house. She was dazzling, even at this hour. She gave him a bright-eyed smile as she stood. She looked very young, he thought, as he studied her face and her huge blue eyes. But at second glance he saw that her T-shirt was very tight across her breasts.
Make eye contact,
he told himself.
No glancing down. Don't be a jackass about her tits
.

“Morning,” she said. She got into the car and reached into the backseat to pet Becky.

“What's up?” Andrew said. He pulled away from the curb and drove down the street. She did not have a jacket. “Aren't you cold?”

“A little. But I get hot when I hike, and I don't like carrying a jacket around,” she said.

“You could've left it in my car. Should we go back?”

“No, it's all right. I don't want to be late.”

Andrew stopped the car. “Just wear my jacket.” He fumbled as he took it off. Laura began to protest, but Andrew insisted.

“Thanks,” she said. She put the jacket on. It was way too big for her. She looked cute.

“This should be fun,” Andrew said.

“You seem to know what you're doing,” she said.

“What?”

“Matt's house.”

Andrew realized that he was driving to Matt's house without any further instruction from her.

“Oh. I kind of remember the first part of the way.”

Laura smiled. As their eyes met, Andrew knew he looked sheepish.

They reached Matt's house, Laura casually offering directions along the way. John was waiting on the steps of the porch when they arrived. The porch lights cast a slight glow on the sidewalk. John stood up and came toward them when Andrew and Laura got out of the car. She and John hugged each other while Andrew tried to look indifferent.

“Where is everyone?” Laura asked.

“David and Matt are in the house with Karen. Josh and Susie should be here any minute. This is kind of big for you,” John said, fingering the collar of Andrew's jacket.

“It's Andrew's,” Laura said. “I was cold.”

With his torn jeans and bright orange tank top, John looked even more like a surfer dude than before, if that were possible. John reached out to shake Andrew's hand but then pulled him into a backslapping man hug. It was awkward, and Andrew's face was briefly pressed against the gigantic blue cross tattoo on John's arm. Laura disappeared into the house, leaving John and Andrew to their own devices.

“About the other night . . .” John began.

“Which one?” Andrew said.

“Um, in your car,” John said.

“I'm glad we got to talk,” Andrew said.

“Yeah,” John said. He looked as if he wanted to say more, but he didn't.

“Carrie coming?” Andrew asked.

“Nah. She's helping prepare the service today,” John said.

“Bummer.”

“Yeah. Carrie's a doll,” John said.

Andrew crossed his arms over his chest and rocked back and forth.

“You cold?”

“I'm fine.”

Embarrassed, Andrew stopped moving and shoved his hands into his pockets while John fiddled with the buttons on his own jacket.

“Look, man—” John said.

“Want to meet my dog?” Andrew turned abruptly and went to his car.

“Uh, sure,” John said. He followed Andrew closely and said, “Actually, I love dogs. Always wanted one.”

John and Becky greeted each other with unbridled enthusiasm; John embraced her and talked in a baby voice as Becky alternately licked his face and spun around in circles to express her joy. As the displays of mutual affection continued, Andrew began to feel jealous. He told himself to chill out. After all, it was nice for Becky to have a new friend. Marcia was a little frightened of big dogs, Becky included, but Sara used to talk to Becky in the same baby voice as John.

“Why don't you get a dog?” Andrew asked.

John was rubbing Becky's belly. He looked up and said, “My apartment building doesn't allow them. And before that, my
parents . . .” John's voice trailed off as he looked away.

How old is John anyway?
Andrew mused. He was solidly built, like Brian, only not so gargantuan. His features were young, he acted young, but the corners of his eyes were creased. And he had that air of tragedy about him, that quality of hurt and pain. He thought of Marcia.

“You remind me of my friend,” Andrew said.

“The one in the coma?” John said softly.

What a weird thing to say,
Andrew thought. In the darkness of the morning, at the distance they were standing from each other, Andrew could not see the expression on John's face. But the tenor of John's voice had changed. John's manner toward him had subtly shifted.

At that moment Laura and the rest of the group came out of the house and began to discuss driving arrangements. Karen and Goatee Seth were among them. His eyes locked with Seth for a moment. They both looked quickly away.

“Well, I rode here with Andrew . . .” Laura began.

“But his car is small, and I want to sit with you,” Karen said.

“I know, I know. I want to sit with you, too,” Laura said.

“I can fit two people. Someone will just have to sit in the back with my dog,” Andrew said. He looked at Karen as he spoke. She narrowed her eyes at him. He studied her for a moment. Despite the pointy chin, she was pretty and had very long legs, emphasized by a pair of tiny cut-off shorts. Her top was a bit too small for her, and Andrew could see a flash of her bare midriff.
She must be cold, he thought. He shifted his gaze and noticed that Laura was watching him watch Karen.

Much to Andrew's irritation, Laura ended up riding with Seth and Karen in Matt's car (they all had something doctrinal to discuss) while John drove a couple of other kids whom Andrew had met briefly at the church. Andrew was assigned to drive David, who was Seth and Karen's twelve-year-old brother. David, like John, was a dog lover without a dog and so occupied himself with Becky in the backseat during the fifteen-minute drive to Darren Mountain.

“Having fun back there?” Andrew asked.

“Yes!” David said. “Becky is my new best friend.”

Andrew thought that David was a little old to be talking like that, but he just smiled and said, “Good.” Then added, “Keep that seat belt on.”

It was pitch-dark at the base of the mountain. Andrew blinked as he exited the car and then recalled that he didn't have a flashlight. Andrew instructed David to stay in the backseat with Becky while he went to get her leash, which was still in the pocket of his jacket.

“Can I open the windows?” David asked.

“Sure. I know it's kind of stuffy,” Andrew said. His car was so old that the windows rolled down manually.

Andrew followed the sound of Laura's voice and felt along the side of Matt's car until he reached her. She and Karen were giggling about something.

“Laura?” He lightly touched her shoulder as he spoke.

Laura jumped. “Whoa! You scared me.”

“Sorry. I need Becky's leash. It's in the right pocket.”

Laura pulled the leash out of the pocket, and Becky's treats fell out as well. Andrew kneeled down to pick them up when a bright light suddenly enveloped them both.

“Everything okay over there?” It was John's voice. A glaring light was strapped to his forehead. Andrew and Laura held their arms up to shield their eyes.

“Yes, fine,” Andrew said.

“John, turn that thing off,” Laura said.

“Sorry,” John said. He turned away, and for a moment Andrew and Laura were plunged into an even deeper darkness.

“I'm blinded,” Andrew said, rubbing his eyes.

“I know,” Laura said. She giggled, and then Andrew felt her hands on his waist. She gently turned him around. “You know where you're going?” she whispered.

“Yes,” he said. He reached back in an attempt to squeeze one of her hands, but they had left his waist. Laura herself seemed to glide away behind him.
Like a wood nymph,
Andrew thought as he walked back to his car.

David had a tiny flashlight that he held under his chin to illuminate his face. As Andrew got closer, he heard David speaking to Becky.

“And the bride kept hearing that noise—
tap, tap, tap
—right on the roof of the car. But she didn't open the door because her
husband told her not to, remember, Becky? So then—”

David really is a dork,
Andrew thought. He smiled when he reached the car but didn't speak. He might as well let David finish his story.

“Hey!” Seth called out. “What are you doing in there?” He shone his own large flashlight into the backseat of Andrew's car, revealing a frightened-looking David, who had switched off his flashlight and was now frantically petting Becky.

“What did I tell you about those stories?” Seth said.

“I'm sorry. I was just playing around,” David said. His voice quavered and his bottom lip trembled.

“Do you understand me?” Seth opened the car door.

“Take it easy,” Andrew said, unsure of what was going on.

Seth ignored him. “Blasphemy. Witchcraft. If I hear that stuff one more time, I'm going to tell Mom and Dad.”

David started to cry. Seth reached inside the car and took David by the wrist. David yelped and Becky growled.

Andrew moved toward them with his fists balled up. “Jesus fucking Christ, Seth—” he started.

A collective gasp erupted from the group. Andrew inwardly cursed both himself and them.
These fucking people,
he thought.

“Sorry. It's just an expression,” Andrew said. He took a step back. His arms were shaking at his sides.

“Is it?” It was Karen who spoke now, stepping forward into the circle of light created by all the flashlights that shone upon Andrew.

“Okay, everybody. We're here to have a good time,” John said. He appeared next to Andrew and put his arm around his shoulders. “Let's just put this behind us and start going up.”

“We're going to miss the sunrise if we don't leave now,” Laura said. Andrew looked in the direction of her voice but couldn't see her. A grumble rose from the group as everybody started up the trail.

“I'll go first,” John said as he switched on his headlamp.

Seth still gripped the handle of Andrew's car. They exchanged a hostile glance before Seth turned and followed John. Andrew attached Becky's leash while David wiped his tears and runny nose on his shirt.

“Everyone's mad at me,” he whimpered.

Andrew felt the urge to get into the car, drive to the nearest diner, and buy David some pancakes. Instead he said, “I'm not mad at you. And neither is Becky.” He paused, then added, “And neither is John.”

David took out his flashlight and shone it on the path in front of them. Then he slipped his free hand into Andrew's and squeezed it. David's hand was sticky and wet.

“Still,” David said, “you shouldn't take the Lord's name in vain.”

ANDREW FOCUSED ON THE LIGHT coming from John's headlamp. David had recovered from the incident with his brother and kept swinging his flashlight so that it made swirls and jags on the path. As he did this, he babbled sound effects to accompany the light show. David also tried to get Becky to play with him.

“Hey, Becky! Becky! Becky, chase after the light. Why isn't she chasing it?”

“I don't know,” Andrew said.

“Oh, okay,” David said with such an immediate tone of apology that Andrew felt guilty. David's gooey, damp hand still clung to him. It was gross, but also warm and oddly comforting. Andrew thought briefly of the night of Sara's accident, when he and Marcia had spent hours sitting holding hands while Marcia
wept. The moist warmth of their joined palms had become oppressive to him.
For her, too, probably,
he thought now.

The voices of the people ahead of them had grown fainter, as had the light from John's headlamp.

“We'd better pick up the pace here, buddy,” Andrew said.

“Okay.”

They walked faster, and David tripped on something and fell down, nearly taking Andrew with him. Andrew reached under David's armpits and pulled him to his feet. The flashlight rolled away. They were in total darkness. “You all right?” he asked.

“Sorry,” David said.

“Stop apologizing. Why did your flashlight go off?”

“You have to push the button constantly to make it work. There's no switch or anything.”

“Shit.”

“You shouldn't—”

“David, there's nothing wrong with saying
shit
.” Andrew groped around in the dark, looking for the flashlight. Becky sniffed the ground and pawed at leaves.

“Hey, John!” Andrew said. No answer. Andrew shouted again.

“What's up?” John's voice seemed to come from a long way off.

“We lost our light.”

“What?”

“Turn toward us!”

John obliged, and Andrew and David were immediately bathed in light. They searched until they found the absurd toy flashlight. Andrew grabbed it and shouted his thanks to John. He heard John ask the group to slow down a bit so that Andrew and David could catch up. Then he heard a girl, probably Karen, whine about not wanting to miss the sunrise.

“Everything okay back there?” It was Seth. He sounded apologetic. Andrew took hold of one of David's hands and put Becky's leash in the other.

“Don't let go,” Andrew said. Then, in the direction of Seth's voice, Andrew yelled, “We're okay! I've got him.”

• • •

They continued up the trail at a faster pace. Gradually, even though they couldn't see the sun, the world seemed to brighten around them. It was so subtle that at first Andrew thought it was just his eyes adjusting to the dark or his proximity to the rest of the group and all their flashlights. But then he saw that the leaves of the trees were not just green but glowing green. Soft, golden green. Somewhere, somehow, the sun was taking hold of the mountain.

He thought of Laura. Of her little hand touching his face and grazing his waist. Her skin was unbelievably soft. Like the skin of a baby or a puppy's belly. Andrew quickened his pace. He wanted to see her. He heard David panting. They were almost there. The trees got shorter and sturdier. They could see the horizon, an
orange strip just barely visible beyond the mountaintop. Above the orange strip a pink glow softened the bluish blackness of the sky. The ground beneath them turned rocky and uneven. David stumbled a bit, but Andrew kept him from falling.

Andrew could now see Laura's back. Laura was very curvy. He cast his eyes up and down her. He felt a terrible urgency to be near her. An urgency that was strangely subdued by the presence of David and David's squishy hand gripping his.

She wasn't wearing his jacket anymore. Probably John was carrying it. Or Matt, who had been curiously silent during the Seth-and-David debacle. Just then David gave his hand an encouraging squeeze.
Weird,
thought Andrew. He wondered if his body was communicating his dismay. Andrew could tell that David was a hypersensitive kid who was constantly being monitored by his parents and older siblings for any infraction. He must be able to sense even the slightest glimmer of disapproval or disappointment from those around him.
Poor David,
Andrew thought. But when they got to the top of the mountain, scrambling over some rocks to reach it, Andrew automatically let go of David's hand.

He walked toward Laura. He could barely see her, and then suddenly he couldn't see her at all. Everyone had turned their flashlights off. He released the button of David's flashlight as well. Darkness. The orange strip on the horizon was just slightly bigger, the sky pinker and bluer and softer.

He stood perfectly still and silent, as did everyone else
around him, even Becky. It was as though they were compelled to be motionless. He could barely make out the faint outlines of all the still bodies around him.
Like Stonehenge,
he thought. Soft mutterings echoed in his ears. Praying? Who was praying? Then someone started to sing. He couldn't tell who was singing; he couldn't even distinguish their gender. Other voices joined the first. He tuned out the singing as he looked for Laura.

Her head was bowed and her lips moved softly. He focused on her silhouette as the world slowly brightened. Laura was like a living work of art, the best movie you'd ever seen, the prettiest painting, the perfect poem. He imagined his arms around Laura, gripping her waist and pressing his lips to hers. Burying his face in her body, running his fingers through her hair. Soft wisps of that hair were now blowing around in the wind, around her bowed head.

Cautiously, Andrew took a step forward. Brighter and brighter and brighter. And warmer, too. Then the brightness and warmth were coming from within him. The feeling of light, lush and warm, right from the center of his heart, or was it his stomach? Or was it his brain? Brighter and warmer, and he could feel himself somehow falling up.

One part of him wanted to surrender to this feeling of endless light, a feeling that came from within. Another part of him floated above and watched himself on the mountaintop.
There's Andrew,
Andrew thought.
That's me down there.

With a gasp, Andrew sat down and clutched his heart, which
was beating so hard, it felt like a piece of machinery in his chest. He struggled to catch his breath. The inevitable hand of John was on his back, his arm.

“You okay? Are you all right?”

“I'm—” Andrew tried to say he was fine but realized he was gasping too hard and couldn't get the words out. Then Laura was at his side.

“Like in the field?” she said.

“Only worse,” Andrew muttered. “Or better. I don't know.”

Laura stroked the small of his back. Andrew felt her little hands and John's large ones all over his back, his neck, his head even. Laura and John's hands seemed to be overlapping each other's. As if they were petting him and each other, the three of them bound together in a strange moving embrace. And all around them the world glowed.

“It's starting,” John said.

It was as though they were inside a ray of the sun. Everything was pale yellow. Everyone looked beautiful, desirable. Laura, especially. A pale golden Laura lit from within. She sat next to Andrew with her hands gently clasped around one of his wrists. Like a human handcuff, or as though she were offering his hand to the sun. John's hand slid from Andrew's back and drooped by his side, his palm open and turned upward, his eyes closed, his head bowed. The feeling of awful and absolute pity that John sometimes inspired in Andrew returned to him now with an exquisite stab.

His breath steady, his heart calm, Andrew reached out to John and touched his hand. John jumped a little, but otherwise remained perfectly still. A moment passed. Laura and John were like statues beside him. They were frozen in time.

Andrew did not want to stay inside this moment. He wanted to be an observer, an outsider looking in—not a participant. He was, he thought, the only person on the mountaintop with his eyes wide open. Everyone else's lids were closed or half closed, which he found odd, because the sunrise was so beautiful. Wasn't that why they were here? To
see
the sunrise?

Andrew glanced around and saw that David was lying on the ground with Becky flopped over his legs. They looked like they were both asleep, which perhaps they were. He smiled. That was nice. Everything was nice. He began to feel high again, floating upward inside the light. He drew his breath in sharply. He didn't want that feeling to return.

He put one hand on top of Laura's clasped hands on his arm. She immediately entwined his fingers with hers. The longed-for moment. She was inches from him, golden and praying. A gust of wind blew her hair back, revealing her face more clearly. Her ears were unpierced.

“I love having my earlobes kissed,” Sara had once said to him, when they were talking about sex. “Tip for the future, Andrew,” she'd said. “Really gently suck on a girl's earlobe. Bite it, even.” And then she'd demonstrated what she'd meant.

So now he leaned over and gently kissed the tip of Laura's
earlobe. Startled, Laura turned her head toward him, her eyes wide and her expression enigmatic. She blinked at him, smiled, then lowered her head and began to pray once more.

He was light, floating again, but this time totally in control. He glanced at John, who still had his head bowed in prayer as well. The deep, sad, furrows around John's eyes were more pronounced in the bright light of the sun.

Andrew felt warm and sleepy. He wished he were alone with Laura. That he could take her into his arms and lean back against the rocks. Anything seemed possible in this sunlight. The sun moved across the sky, and the intensity of the brightness dimmed by slow degrees, the warm, golden light replaced by regular yellow clarity. Marcia would have liked this. Sara, too.

The group began shifting around and stretching, as if they were all waking from the same dream. John rose abruptly and walked toward the edge of the mountain. He stood with his arms crossed and his legs apart, looking down. Laura got up and drifted toward Karen. The two girls whispered to each other. Were they talking about him? But then he thought that there was no way on earth that Laura would tell Karen that he'd just kissed her ear. Andrew moved closer to the girls and strained to hear them. Karen pulled from her pocket what looked like his Bible.

“I found it on the ground. He must have dropped it,” Karen said.

“So give it back to him,” Laura said.

And then for some reason they both giggled.

“Hey.”

Andrew looked up and saw Matt and Seth. Matt had Andrew's jacket crumpled up under one of his arms. He handed him the jacket and sat down.

“Thanks,” Andrew said. “Sorry you had to carry that.”

“No problem,” Matt said.

Matt stretched his legs out in front of him and grabbed the toes of his sneakers, like an athlete preparing himself for a race. Seth did not sit. Andrew glanced away, looking for David and Becky. They were running around in a grassy part of the mountaintop, David's hand still gripping the handle of the leash.

“We're sorry about before,” Matt said.

“It's fine,” Andrew said.

“It's not fine. We've talked about this. You didn't grow up in this—” Matt said as he gestured with his arms as if to encompass all the people around them in an aerial embrace. He cleared his throat and looked at Seth, who seemed like he was pretending to read his Bible. He closed it and spoke to Andrew.

“I'm sorry too,” he said.

“What's wrong with ghost stories?” Andrew asked him. Seth rolled his eyes. “I'm honestly curious,” Andrew said. Seth didn't respond.

“Well, it's like—” Matt said. “Ghosts aren't real. Your soul goes to Heaven or, you know, it doesn't. The soul doesn't hang out on Earth torturing people, haunting people, possessing people. That's what we mean by blasphemy. We believe, I believe, that
thinking about the soul in that way, like in a horror movie or something, is just harmful.”

“Harmful to who?” Andrew asked.

“Everyone,” Matt said. “The living and the dead.”

“Oh,” Andrew said. “What about—” He took a deep breath. He didn't want to talk about anything real in front of douche-bag Goatee Seth. But Matt seemed to read his mind.

“Your friend's soul is still here. Sara is still
here
,” Matt said.

Andrew stood up and immediately felt lightheaded. He swayed slightly.

“Are you okay? Did you eat this morning? I have some crackers . . . somewhere,” Matt said as he searched the pockets of his pants. Even Seth reached out as if to steady him. But Andrew regained control of himself and stepped away from them both.

“It's not a ghost story anyway,” Andrew said.

“What?” Seth said.

“David's story. There's nothing supernatural about that one. It's just a stupid scary story.”

“Oh,” Seth said.

“We didn't know that,” Matt added.

Seth looked long and hard at David, who was at that moment literally frolicking on a sunny mountaintop. “It's best not to stray into that territory,” he said.

“Whatever,” Andrew said. He turned toward Seth. “Where are you going, anyway?”

“What do you mean?”

“For your thing. You know, the traveling portion of your faith.”

“Ghana,” Seth said.

“Oh, right,” Andrew said. “I knew that.” Then he turned away and walked toward David and Becky. He heard Matt say his name, barely audible, but he pretended not to hear.

Off to Africa to convert the unbelieving.
Seth is pure ass hat,
he thought, but Andrew was shaken. Shaken to hear Matt refer to Sara's soul. How dare he? Laura had told all these jerks about Sara and her coma and her fucking ventilator. That was why Laura wanted to hang out with him in the first place. Because he was grieving, vulnerable, possibly convertible. Did she even really care about him? Then with a surge of shame he realized that for the past few days he hadn't really thought about Sara at all because he was so consumed with trying to connect with Laura.