This Place Has No Atmosphere (11 page)

I’m not great at foreign languages, but I know that
amore
means love in some language. (I always try to know the important words so that I could get along while traveling.
Love
and
bathroom
are the two words that I think are most important to know. I may be a romantic but I’m also practical.)

I curtsy. “You’re a lunar knight on a lunar night.”

“At your service.” He bows deeply and kneels on one knee, pretending to take off a hat.

“Hold that pose. Don’t move for a minute.” I look in my bag and pull out a star sticker, which I put on his forehead. “I dub thee Sir Hal, rescuer and protector of fair maidens, as long as they are not your sister and her friends. Arise.”

He stands up and looks around.

People are staring at us and smiling.

Hal smiles back at everyone. “Haven’t you ever seen a starry knight?” He grabs my hand and says, “Come along, fair damsel. I must rescue you from the dragon.”

“But Sir Hal . . . how can you rescue me from the dragon when none appears on yon horizon?”

He continues to hold my hand and rush me along. “I’m rescuing you from draggin’ along and being late for the meeting.”

“Oh, yeck. That pun is perfectly awful.”

He stops and stares at me. “Look. I am not perfect. I make bad puns. Sometimes I even yell at my little sister and brother. I get bad grades in chemistry. My locker at school is messy. I repeat, I am not perfect.” He smiles at me. “I am not a knight in shining armor. I am a knight in tarnished armor.”

“All you need is a little polish,” I inform him. “Stick with me. I can make you shine.”

He looks at me shyly. “It’s a deal.”

I look back at him.

All of a sudden I feel a little shy too.

I’m not sure why.

All I do know is that I’m very glad we’re becoming friends.

T
he definition of
lunatic
is “moon struck.”

After sitting through the town meeting, I can understand why.

Hal and I sit at the edge of the crowd.

I guess that makes us part of the lunatic fringe.

Emily Doowinkle recites her new poem, “You ’n Verse, As in Universe”:

The manager of resources, Marc Boswell, announces that while the generator is being recharged only essential equipment should be used.

I hope they consider blow-dryers essential.

I know I do.

Mr. Conway, the greenhouse tender, is next.

He’s also the town grouch.

I think every place must have at least one.

Mr. Conway stands in front of the council.

Tall, skinny, and bald, he shakes his fist. “I want the PortaPotties at the edge of town painted fluorescently so that people can find them in the dark and not use my greenhouse instead.”

It’s the town’s greenhouse, but Mr. Conway never quite accepts that fact.

I would think that he wouldn’t mind people using the greenhouse instead of the PortaPotty. On earth that stuff is supposed to help things grow.

“Time’s up,” the mayor yells.

Hal smiles at me. “Every meeting, Conway makes that proposal and every meeting the mayor calls time. The first suggestion Conway made was to rig the PortaPotty doors so that when you clapped your hands, the doors would open in the dark. He forgot
to think about what would happen if someone was already in it.

I laugh.

“Aurora Williams. Hal Brenner.” The mayor calls us to the front of the room.

I take a deep breath to try to stop laughing.

It’s not easy, because I’m so nervous.

This is not acting. It’s real life once more.

Hal goes first.

He explains that we want to put on this classic play,
Our Town
, and that Mr. Wilcox has promised to direct, with April assisting. “Tryouts will be held next week if the project is approved.”

He sounds so good, so sure of himself.

I’m glad we remembered to take the star sticker off his forehead before he spoke. I’m not so sure he would have been taken as seriously otherwise.

The town council listens and nods. You can tell they know and like Hal.

One good thing about the moon is that kids are treated better, with more respect. I think that’s because with a small population everyone is more important, more useful. It’s like
Little House on the Prairie
, only it’s
Little Town Under the Bubble
.

“Aurora. You’re next.”

I step forward, hoping I won’t get the giggles.

Mr. Wernik, the mayor, smiles.

Even though I’m nervous, I speak clearly and directly, explaining what supplies and costumes will be needed. Hal and I have worked out costs and square feet of shuttle space needed. It won’t be much, since we’ve chosen a play with very little scenery.

While I’m speaking, one of the Eaglettes comes up and attaches herself to my ankle.

I reach down and pick her up, kiss her on the forehead, and finish the sentence.

Working with and caring about the Eaglettes at school has come in handy: she looks at Mayor Wernik and says, “Daddy, I love Aurora.”

Mr. Wernik laughs and says, “My daughter Vanya places an unofficial vote
for
the play. How about the rest of us?”

The council votes.

It’s unanimous.

As everyone says yes, there’s applause.

I kiss Vanya on the forehead and hand her back to her mother, who has come up to get her.

Hal and I give each other victory signs.

It feels great, like we’ve really accomplished something. Now if only the play turns out as well—if only I can give a great performance. I’ve always wanted to play the part of Emily. I’m sure I’ll get it. I don’t think there’s anyone else who cares as much about putting on this play as I do, except maybe Hal, and I don’t think he’s going to try out for the part I want. Partly because I know he doesn’t want to act and partly because he would look lousy in a dress.

The meeting ends.

The party begins.

It’s a tradition to socialize after the meeting. Almost the whole town shows up. It is really like during the earth’s pioneer times.

Fast music comes over the loudspeakers.

Salvador Arply and Emily Doowinkle are slow-dancing. I think this has turned into a serious romance. I wonder what will happen if they get married and have kids. Would two creative artists have a kid who wanted to program computers?

“Want to dance?” Hal asks.

“Yes.”

“I’ve got to warn you. I’ve spent the whole week practicing.”

“With whom?”

He turns red. “By myself . . . and then my mother walked in, saw me, and helped.”

We dance.

He steps on my feet seven and a half times.

He whispers in my ear and steps on my foot again.

“This is much more fun than dancing with my mother.”

I wonder whether she can still walk.

After the music ends, we walk over to the refreshment table.

Actually, Hal walks and I limp.

We try the candied carrots.

Yeccho.

Some of the kids from school join us.

“I’m so excited,” Karlena says. “I’m going to try out for one of the little parts, one of the townspeople.”

“Me too,” Vern Verne says.

I hadn’t noticed any parts for barfburgers in the play.

Julie Verne says, “I’ll work on the makeup committee.”

I smile. “That’s great.”

April and I helped her make up during the first week of school and she’s gotten really good at it.

“Want some ice cream?” Hal asks.

“We have ice cream? I can’t believe it.”

“Don’t get your hopes up. It’s freeze-dried.” Hal hands me a bar of it.

It’s interesting. Not great, but interesting. For a minute I wonder what Matthew would have named it. I feel a little sad . . . but not as sad as I would have expected.

One of the factory workers, Brendon Brando, comes over. “Do you have to be a student to try out?”

Hal shakes his head. “No. Everyone can.”

“Great.” Brendon smiles. “See you at tryouts then.”

As he leaves, I hear Julie say to Karlena, “I hope that he gets a part. I wouldn’t mind auditioning to be his girlfriend.”

The music starts again.

Hal asks me to dance.

I suggest talking instead.

We discuss all sorts of things.

He’s the first boy who I don’t feel like I have to put an act on for, be someone I’m not. He’s really a different kind of friend.

We laugh as he imitates Mr. Conway yelling about
how someone keeps using his little greenhouse as a PortaPotty.

I pretend to be the supply person who gave a report on the shortage of toilet paper and what measures to use not to waste it.

An older couple comes over to us.

Hal smiles.

They look nice and comfy, like they would be happy to hug a kid.

Some people just look like that.

My parents don’t.

“Aurora, these are my parents.”

I feel a little shy. “Hi. Nice meeting you.”

“Hal has told us so much about you,” Mr. Brenner says.

Mrs. Brenner nods. “I ask him how school is and all he talks about is you.”

“Mom!” Hal blushes.

She continues. “It’s nice to know that he’s found someone he likes so much, and I know that Mr. Wilcox thinks you are a wonderful addition to the school and getting more helpful every day.”

“Mom,” Hal says, “you make it sound like you were checking Aurora out.”

“I was.” She nods. “And I’ve watched her at
community meals. A mother likes to check out her son’s first girlfriend.”

“We’re just friends.” Hal’s face is very red.

Mr. Brenner says, “I’m sure we’ll be seeing a lot of you.”

“Aurora”—Mrs. Brenner gives me a kiss on the cheek—“it’s very nice meeting you.”

After they leave, Hal says, “That was one of the most embarrassing times in my life . . . . Parents!”

“I like them.”

“I do too.” He nods. “I can’t believe they did that to me though.”

April comes rushing up to us. “Aurora. Hal. You did such a great job getting the money to put on the play. It’ll be such a terrific experience to direct. Tolin said he’d help with the sets.”

I smile. “Wonderful.”

We’ve both been so busy with our new lives that we really haven’t had any time to spend together.

April goes over to dance with Tolin.

I look around.

Starr is standing at the sidelines alone, watching the dancers.

“Hal, would you do me a favor?”

“Anything.” He smiles at me.

“Ask Starr to dance. Please.”

He nods and says, “Sure. And you ask Tucker to dance. And when the music stops, we’ll make sure that the four of us are near. Tucker would like that.”

“Has he said that he likes Starr?”

“I’m sworn to secrecy.” Hal grins. “But my plan is one that will surely work.”

A little sneaky.

But nice.

I like it.

“I
hope you get the parts you want,” my mother says as Starr and I get ready to leave the house. “Have a great day.”

This afternoon my mother is going to perform bionic surgery on a worker who was injured in a mining accident. She’s been so busy studying procedures that I’m amazed she remembered that today Mr. Wilcox is putting up the list of people chosen for the play.

My father says, “I wish we could do something special to celebrate tonight, like go out to dinner.”

“There are no restaurants here,” Starr reminds him.

“I know.” He looks sad. “I’m very happy up here . . . but do you know what I miss? . . . Those fastfood places, food in bags that always rip before you even get it home, greaseburgers, soda cups that leak from the plastic tops. Also pizza that the delivery boy has tilted to one side, so that the cheese is all in the corner of the box.”

My mother says, “I miss sushi.”

“Raw fish, yuckiosity.” Starr makes a face. “That’s like eating from a goldfish bowl.”

My mother continues. “And ice cream places that sell soft custard. And I miss my mother’s brownies.” She pauses. “And I miss Mom too.”

We’re all quiet for a few minutes, and then Dad says, “After dinner tonight, let’s all go out for a family walk and then I’ll bring out a hidden surprise that I’ve been saving for a special occasion—something Grandma Jennifer sent up on the last shuttle.”

“How come I never saw it?” My mother puts her hands on her hips.

He smiles. “She labeled it Dental Supplies and told me to open it when you showed signs of missing her.”

“Brownies!” we all yell at once, jumping up and down. “Brownies! Brownies!”

When we finally calm down, my father says, “That’s for tonight. But now we all have to go to work and to school.”

Starr and I kiss our parents good-bye.

This has been a great way to start our day, I think as we leave for school.

“I thought I was nervous trying out for the play,” Starr says. “Waiting to find out who’s got which part is even worse.”

I smile at her. “Don’t worry. I bet you’ll get a part.”

“That’s what I’m nervous about.” Starr crosses her eyes. “How did you ever convince me to audition?”

“
How
was a cinch. I told you that Tucker was trying out too. The reason
why
is that I’m sure you’ll get a small part and it’ll be fun, something different from working with computers. I helped you prepare for the audition and I’ll help you when you’re in the play.”

“Sometimes you can be terrific.” Starr smiles at me.

I smile back.

We continue to walk along the street. Everything is so drab—gray dust, ugly black buildings. The weather’s so nothing. I remember the days on earth where sometimes it would rain, or snow, or be sunny . . .  never be quite the same . . . and you could wear different types of clothes depending on the weather.

The only time I get wet unexpectedly on the moon is when one of the Eaglettes drools or does worse.

This town is really boring to look at. None of the buildings is taller than five stories. Most of them are covered with lunar dust. The paths are concrete. Outside of the greenhouse and Tranquillity Park, there are no trees, plants, or flowers.