The Star Child (The Star Child Series) (3 page)

Gran had wrapped me in a plaid blanket and I let her
tut-tut
over my wet clothes as she led me inside the warm little house. “Where have you been? You’re absolutely freezing.”

Stephen glanced up from his book long enough to nod curtly and returned to his reading. He hadn’t asked where I’d gone, nor did he appear the slightest bit curious.

Roger, pouting after having been denied the pleasure of harassing me all day, glared in my direction from across the table. “Where were you, dog breath?”

“None of your bees-wax.” I glared right back.

“What were you doing, picking up turds because you are one?” He laughed, chuckling at his own subpar insults.

“No. I met a girl on the beach.” I was proud to mention Calienta, because it was well known that Roger was taunted by all of the girls at our school because of a chronic case of bad breath.

“What, was she a sheep? Kellen was kissing a sheep,” Roger said in a singsong voice.

I stuck out my tongue fiercely at him before turning away, checking once to make sure no adult was watching. However, I still got caught.

“Kellen, quit fighting with your brother.” Stephen conveyed this message without looking up from his book. Rolling my eyes, I walked away.

Passing Gran, I went upstairs to the modest guest room that Roger and I were sharing and changed into a pair of gray sweatpants and a sweatshirt that had the name of my prep school from back home on it. Though the clothes were warm, I hated wearing them as I detested the prep school.

When I returned downstairs, dinner was laid on the table. The fare was basic, a simple stew and bread that Gran had made that day. It smelled like heaven. The cold slowly started to seep out of my bones as I sat in the seat closest to the fire.

Stephen raised an eyebrow. “This is interesting, Mother.” He always looked down his nose at anything offered to him here. He was a snob; there was no other word for it.

“It should be. You had it often enough growing up, before you got too big for your britches.” She winked at me.

The potatoes were velvety on my tongue as they practically melted in my mouth. Each carrot was a savory jewel that was complemented by thick, rich broth. Beside my plate, a slim pat of butter slowly melted on a slice of brown bread that was still hot from the oven.

We ate in silence, with Gran making several attempts to catch my gaze again throughout the meal. Under normal circumstances, I’d have met her stare, even shared a conspiratorial wink with her. After all, when you’re one of two normal people at a table of weirdos, you tend to forge a bond. This evening, however, I only wanted to be alone so I could think about Calienta some more.

Once everyone had retired for the evening, I crept back downstairs and sat in front of the remnants of the fire. The fireplace was large and dominated the kitchen, with heavy gray stones covering the front of the hearth. In the darkened room, with the crackling of embers providing the backdrop, my mind replayed the scene at the cove, wondering if it had been a dream, hoping that it had been real.

Sitting down, Gran wrapped her arms around me, surprising me; she’d never made a sound. Her weathered hand against my back was calming, and I found myself leaning against her. This closeness was something I hadn’t experienced much since my mother died. I closed my eyes against the memory of my mother’s touch.

Gran had always seemed to prefer me to Roger, although she never demonstrated this either in her words or actions. Then again, Roger was such a loser, who could blame her?

“You mustn’t worry over your father and Roger. They love you in their own way, you know.”

I realized she'd made the assumption that my pensiveness was due to hurt feelings, which, given the nature of my family, was a logical conclusion. She smiled to add emphasis, though she was lying to make me feel better. Stephen and Roger hated me. Even at that young age, I suppose I felt little more than apathy for the pair of them, though I found myself constantly hoping for something more. At present, however, I had more pressing concerns.

“Have you—” My voice sounded rough, as though I hadn’t spoken in a long time.

She shifted her position slowly on the bench, so that she was able to meet my eye. Gran was always careful to give me her utmost attention whenever I spoke.

“Have you ever had a dream that was so real…so real that you thought it might actually have happened?” Anxiety had overtaken me and I sat practically on the edge of my seat in anticipation of her answer. I truly hoped that my dream was real. I needed it to be real.

Gran considered my question for a moment before speaking. “Yes, Kellen, I’ve experienced that feeling many a time. Why, just last week I went to the market and Lily O’Shea was wearing a pair of red leather pants. I thought for sure it must have been a dream. After all, she’s seventy-five, for goodness’ sake.”

She chuckled, finding humor in her own experience. I laughed with her but didn’t say anything further.

After silence ensued, she must have realized that she hadn’t reached the heart of the matter. “Did you have a dream like that?”

“Well…well, how do you know if the dream really happened?” I ignored her question, keeping my head down and my arms around her. I refused to meet her eyes.

“Mmm. I suppose that you have to go with whatever your heart tells you.”

My heart leapt inside my chest. This was exactly the kind of information that I wanted to hear. I needed to believe in Calienta.

“Where were you today, Kellen? I was worried about you.”

“I was at the cove again. I think that I fell asleep there.”

“That’s not the safest of places for a nap. Why on earth–”

“I didn’t want Roger to find me. I know he’s afraid of that place, so that’s why I went.” I mumbled this into her side as she held me.

“Well, I suppose that’s a good reason. You ought to be more careful, though. Is that where you had your dream?”

I nodded in response.

“Do you want to tell me about it? I like to talk about my dreams. It always makes me feel better.”

That was the encouragement that I needed and I launched into a full explanation of the girl, her father, and the happenings at the cove. The excitement was evident in my voice, and if I looked in the mirror, I knew that my eyes would seem a little too bright. “They were leaving and I tried to stop them, but they had to go. They were so nice to me.” My voice sounded small.

When I looked into my grandmother’s eyes, her expression was confused, her forehead creased. She gave the appearance of someone considering this carefully, which was precisely the level of attention that this case needed.

“A young girl. Maybe you dreamed about Bridget or Emily, one of the girls from the village. They’re both very nice.” She smiled as she drew the conclusion.

“No. That wasn’t the girl’s name. I met a girl named Calienta today.”

Gran seemed startled by this and pulled back, looking closely at me. In her gaze was the same look of scrutiny that she gave whenever she was trying to discern if I was telling the truth or not. Why would she think I was lying? I didn’t care for the intensity of her expression and looked at my socks, plain white with a single red stripe across the toe.

“That couldn’t be.” A look of bewilderment crossed Gran’s face and she seemed to teeter once again on the edge of believing my tale. Her eyes flicked to the window closest to us; her anxiety seemed to mirror my own.

I didn’t understand what she’d need to be concerned about. Wanting to put her inexplicable fears to rest, I added, “I don’t think you know them. They were on vacation. They had to leave today. I was sad. She was my only friend.”

And somehow this was the truth, even though I’d spent less than five minutes with her. Calienta would have been my very closest friend. She was the most kindred of spirits.

Gran’s face suddenly appeared centuries old as she looked down into my eyes. In that solitary moment, I could read the sympathy that she had for me there, but also the pain. “Oh, I know who she is, but I don’t know if you do.”

A smile lit my face. Gran knew her. Maybe we could be friends after all. “You know her? Where does she live? Can we go and see her now? I thought she was only visiting.”

Leaping up, I ran to the door as I spoke and started putting my shoes on. There was no doubt in my mind that I was prepared to run out into the wind-swept night in search of a girl that I had barely met.

Gran laid a hand on my arm and shook her head. “Come with me. You won’t need your shoes,” she added as I made to retrieve them.

It was unusual for Gran to take me out at night. Irish folklore was ingrained in her daily life. Faeries and other local legends were a reality that was acknowledged and respected. As such, we rarely went outside of the house at night, and there were a variety of charms around the perimeter of the house to keep the “wee folk” at bay.
This must be serious.

Taking her hand, the two of us stepped out onto the back porch and Gran closed the door behind us. The air was crisp and the sky blacker than black, except for the points of light where several stars dotted the sky.

Gran put her arm around me. “Child, you won't be able to find her tonight or any other, for she doesn’t live in the village here.”

I stomped my foot impatiently on the stone, causing my toes to throb mildly with pain. Didn’t she say she knew her? Why would Gran lie to me? Why would she get my hopes up?

“Where does Calienta live?”

“I’m not sure exactly, as I know her only from the old stories that I grew up with. We won’t be able to find her on any map. I know that she lives somewhere there.”

And I looked on as Gran slowly raised an aged finger to point to the star-covered sky. “You see, Kellen, Calienta is a Star Child.”

My eyes flickered to the sky for a moment and then back to hers. Before I could question her further, movement behind her caught my eye. I could have sworn that Calienta’s father was watching us in the distance.

***

Trying to shake off the feeling of unease, I slowly began to push the experience to the back of my mind. Instead, I chose to reflect on the changes, both past and future, that would have an impact on my life.

Of course, the biggest change had taken place today. Not only had I graduated, but also, thanks to Gran, I no longer needed to depend on Stephen, though I hadn’t gone public with this information yet.

We went to Ireland for Gran’s funeral about three months ago, after receiving word that she’d died suddenly in her sleep. It was a low-key event for Gran. She’d enjoyed a nice dinner with a close friend at the local pub before going home to bed. She never felt a thing, from what we were told, which was something that I was incredibly grateful for.

When we got the news that Gran had passed, there was never any question that we’d attend the funeral. Stephen always did what was expected of a son. He sent money every month, visited every year for two weeks, and went to his mother’s funeral. Shedding a tear, however, was another matter.

In contrast, the entire experience had been among the most painful of my life. Gran was my best friend, the person that I was closest to in the world since my mother’s death. She was the only one that I could be myself with. When she died, part of my heart went with her.

Even when I graduated early and went to college, we still stayed in touch. I’d call her every few days, making sure that Yale billed it to my room so Stephen could pick up the tab. In turn, she’d send a care package to me every two weeks, filled with sweets and other goodies.

Ironically, the care packages continued right up until my graduation, despite her death. Obviously she’d arranged for someone to manage them in case something happened to her. She was always worried about me, calling me such a “skinny thing”.

She wasn’t far off. I’d always been thin and lanky, though not unusually tall, about five-foot-nine. My body never seemed to gain any muscle no matter what I tried. My complexion was fair and pale, though my need to surround myself with books in the library was most likely a contributing factor to the latter.

When I received a care package the week before my graduation, I acknowledged that there’d be no more correspondence from Gran. The package was light, bendable, and I remembered carrying it back to my place and not really hearing much of what was going on around me as I walked.

The box contained the usual assortment of sweets and baked goods, but this time there was also a letter. It was in a plain white envelope and was addressed to me in Gran’s hand. As I picked up the letter, my heart started to pound. Having spent only a few months in this world without Gran’s infectious enthusiasm for life, the letter connected me to her.

I smiled as I read my name and could almost hear her reading aloud to me as I unfolded the letter and began to read.

Kellen,

If you’re reading this, then I’ve gone on to be with your Grandda. As happy as that thought makes me, it also saddens me because I won’t get to see you again in this lifetime. I’m sorry for the life that you’ve lived and for my son. Although you already know this, I have to say it: You deserved a better father. I’m disappointed in the man that my son has become and you, my darling boy, have had to suffer. But that’s neither here nor there now.

There are two things that I need to tell you. The first is that you’re old enough to know the truth about your mother and her life. In this envelope, there’s a ticket to London. You must go to your grandfather Alistair. I’ve left a box with him that contains a letter from your mother that you need to read.

Second, I’ve taken the money that your father gave me and saved it for you. It’s in a fund and will become yours upon my death. I’ve also willed you my house and my books. I know you’ll take care of them. You may choose to do whatever you wish with the remainder of my belongings. Alistair will act as your attorney and help you negotiate the legalities.

I’ve tried to reach out to your brother, but he has made it more than clear that he finds no fault with your father and isn’t in need of my help. I’ll leave it to you how to deal with him.