The Fallen Star by Jennifer Hor

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The Fallen Star "Nanna said that when you see a star falling across the sky during the new moon, you should make a wish because any wish you make can come true," the sister said to her younger brother. The boy stopped running a toy across the floor and his eyes grew wide open. "Really? Is that what she said?" The sister shrugged her shoulders. "That's what she said." "Nanna said that? Is it really true?" Again the girl shrugged. Nanna sometimes did say the strangest things but surely by now her brother should know that? "Mmm mm," she mumbled. He thought for a while. "When is the new moon? What is the new moon?" "Um I think it's when the moon doesn't come out and the night is all very dark and scary," she said. "Nanna said it happens once a month." "Wow!" the boy gasped, "so when is the next time? Is it soon?" "Well, you have to wait." An idea came into her head. "You have to watch the sky every night and be very patient, and one night the sky will be all dark and there will be nothing but stars, and that's when you might see a falling star. And when you do, you have a make a wish straight away while you see the star falling in the sky." She paused for breath. Fibbing to her brother wasn't hard work but she had to think quickly. "But you can only wish while you see the star because if it stops or disappears and you're in the middle of making a wish, the wish won't come true. Or it'll be half-true. Whatever." She got down from the couch beneath the window where she had been watching cars passing by in the street. "So is the new moon time tonight?" he asked. "I don't know!" she said, "I said you have to watch the sky every night and be patient. It might not come for a long time." She began to walk out of the room. "Hey, wait!" the boy cried, "are you gonna watch the sky with me?" "Oh, I can't watch with you! The wish only works if you watch the sky by yourself!"

Later when the phone in the room rang and he got off the couch to answer it, Nanna was on the line. So he asked her about whether it was true that a wish made when a star falls during the new moon period will come true. "Well, well," he heard her mutter, "I'm not sure where you heard that from. I suppose you could always try making a wish when you do see a falling star, whenever that is. It's got to be a good wish though! How about you wishing that Mummy comes home from hospital soon?" "I'll wish that she can walk again."
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"Oh well, um, yes, that's not a bad wish" Nanna said, "but wouldn't it be better if you wished that Mummy got better and can be home again? You must be a very brave boy and wait for Mummy to get better." "Yes, mm." He sniffed. "Um when is the new moon, Nan, do you know?" "New moon? I'll have to look at the calendar, I can't remember right now. Just a second, let me have a look ... Ah, here we are ... middle of the month, that's just two days away. The new moon is on the fifteenth of June. So you're going to be looking out the window then?" Two days away! Of course he would!

Night on the fifteenth of June. "What are you doing there on the couch like that?" his sister asked. "I'm looking for the falling star. It's the new moon tonight." "Oh, I see." She walked away in giggles. Kneeling on the seat of the couch, he continued pressing his nose and cheeks against the window pane looking up at the pitch-black sky above the sculptured masses of trees. The trees were lit up by the harsh glare of the streetlights and in the distance shots of yellow and white light could be seen on otherwise blank faces of apartment blocks, but above the blocky geometry of various buildings and the rounded tops of trees the sky's blunt black cover reigned over all. He'd never seen such darkness before and it was like staring into a never-ending tunnel. He put both his hands on the glass as if to steady himself. The glass, hot and wet under his breath, was almost moving forwards. Behind him, the room began creeping backwards. The blackness embraced his head and shoulders and he felt himself floating and then flying up into the inverted abyss. And then he saw a great white flaming ball racing across the blackness far in front of him. The sight dazzled his eyes. He blinked rapidly and for a while couldn't see anything. Everything was fuzzy. Then he remembered what he had to do. He closed his eyes. "I wish Mummy can walk again. I wish Dad's new girlfriend would go away and never come back. I wish Dad would come back and take me fishing again just like he used to." He wished as fast as he could and as soon as his last wish left his lips the flickering tail of the white fiery star that had just passed faded away rapidly. "Oh, wow! I made three wishes! Please, please! I want them to come true!" He opened his eyes and the scene that opened up for him was the ceiling of the sitting room. He was lying on his back on the carpet some distance away from the couch with the large window behind it. But he couldn't remember falling off the couch or hitting the floor. His head didn't even hurt. He rolled over to one side and tried to sit up. His vision swam a bit and his head felt strangely heavy. He flopped back onto the floor.

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"What are you doing on the floor?" a woman's voice said. It was Yasmin, come over to keep an eye on him and his sister while his mother was in hospital. "Oh, um I fell off the couch." "You fell off the couch? What a strange thing to do. But you are a strange boy after all! Come on, get up off the floor and put your clothes and toys away. Look at the time!" As if on cue, the big clock in the hallway began to chime loudly. "Time for you to go to bed!"

The doctors were astonished. They said the patient would never walk again yet not only did she have feeling in her legs, feet and toes, she was able to walk from her bed to the door and out to the nurses' station twenty metres away with the aid of a frame. They checked her X-rays again, shook their heads and muttered among themselves: there was no doubt, the T10 vertebrae showed definite breaks as of 5 June 20 when the examination was done, some time after the accident. Yet there she was, cautiously pushing the frame forward with her own hands, lifting each foot as she took a step, barely shuffling as she did so. The patient remained in hospital for another week for more tests and on 24 June 20was allowed to go home. By then she was using a walking stick.

"Mummy, mummy, you're walking, I knew you would." "Yes, yes, my darling boy. Have you been good for Yasmin and Nanna? Have you been doing the things I asked you to do while I've been sick?" "Yes, Mummy. And guess what? I saw a falling star and I wished that you would walk again." The boy drew himself up to his full height. "And see, my wish came true! You are walking again, Mummy!" "Yes, my darling, it's amazing, just amazing, I am walking again!" Of all people, the woman was the most surprised as the doctors had told her she would never walk again. And as her son chatted about that night when he looked out the window and saw the falling star, and made his wishes, she began to wonder whether wishes made during an unusual phenomenon like that might actually come true.

The door bell was ringing loudly. "I'll get the door!" the sister yelled. Jealous of the younger child's sudden popularity with Mummy since she came home, the girl was most anxious to register loudly on her mother's radar. She ran into the foyer and stopped. Behind the mottled glass door shifted two tall dark shadows. What were they? she wondered. "Hello?" she asked shyly. "Hello, is Ms J___ available?" a woman's voice, nasal and high-pitched, pitched through the door. "Is that you, Annie?" "Oh! I'll get Mummy!" The girl whooshed out of the foyer and in a few moments brought her mother. "Hello?" the stranger called again, "is that you, Annie?"
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The girl was hurried into the playroom by her mother where the boy was already absorbed crashing two train engines together. "The two of you, be quiet and stay here!" the mother hissed at them loudly and ran off, slamming the door behind her. "What for?" the boy said, looking up "why do we have to be quiet for?" "I don't know," the sister replied, just as surprised. They put their heads to the door, straining to pick up faint audible strings of conversation, but they couldn't hear anything at all. The boy thought he could hear quiet sobbing and sniffing noises. "Mum's crying", he whispered, recognising the tone of the sobs and their rhythms. He thought of the times when Mum and Dad shouted at each other about his drinking and someone called Fiona and a dirty white shirt, and when the shouting stopped, Dad would bang his way out of the house and Mum would sit in the kitchen and cry quietly. It was that kind of crying he thought he could hear now though the sound was fainter and softer. Then they heard the front door open, more talking and then the front door shut. The two children looked at each other, not knowing what to say or do. They heard footsteps coming to their door so they moved away back towards their toys. Almost at once the door opened and their mother stood on the threshold, wiping tears away from her eyes with a handkerchief. "The news is bad", she said quietly, "I don't know how else to tell you. Daddy's had a bad car crash and he's in the hospital on life support. I'll have to go and see him. I'll get Yasmin to come over and keep an eye on you." "Can't we come?" the girl asked. Mummy shook her head.

A few days after their father's funeral, the boy was kneeling on the couch again gazing up at the darkening sky. "I want Daddy back", he whispered. His eyes brimmed and a tear began creeping down his left cheek. "I want you back, Daddy." His face creased up and went red and he began to bawl. His body shook with the effort of sobbing. The atmosphere in the sitting room, unlit, was very still. The sister was away at the doctor's with Mummy so he was on his own. Yasmin was in another room talking to a friend on the phone. He had tried calling Nanna before but had to leave a message on her phone and she never called back. "I want Daddy back." When no more tears could flow, he slumped down onto the couch and laid his head on the cushion. He closed his eyes and everything around him seemed to grow dark. There was a faint sound of moaning wind from outside. In his mind, he could see Daddy lying in the coffin, his face made all white and his hair all dark brown instead of brown and grey. The coffin was being lowered into a deep grey hole by three men surrounded by green carpet and yellowing grass. The coffin went deeper and deeper until it started to float on a sea of blackness. As the coffin began to sail, creating ripples in the water, Daddy suddenly sat up, threw off the wig and tossed it into the sea. He took off the grey suit jacket to reveal his T-shirt and got a handkerchief
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from the jacket's inside pocket to wipe the make-up from his face. Then he looked at the boy. "Hey, son, why aren't you out here with me? There's plenty of fish biting here. What're you doing out there?" "Daddy, Daddy! Here I am!" The boy reached out an arm. At the same time, Daddy stretched his arm as though to take hold of the boy's hand. "Where are you? I can't get hold of you, son." "I'm here, I'm here! Here's my hand, Daddy, here, here!" "Can't reach you, you're too far away. Can you stretch some more?" "Here, here, I can't stretch any more, I'm here, I'm here! Don't go away, Daddy, please don't!" The image in his mind was shrinking and fading rapidly. "Can't get to you ... can't reach you ... too far away, you're too far away ..." His father's voice faded away. "Hey, what's the matter?" Yasmin shook him awake. "Have you been crying? You look terrible. You poor boy." He opened his mouth to say, "I want Mummy, I want Daddy", but all that came out was a big howl. Yasmin hugged him as long as she could but the tears were never-ending. Eventually when he stopped howling and gasping he was tired so she made him comfortable on the couch and put the red cushion under his head and covered him with his dressing-gown so he could sleep. She wiped the tears away from his face and smoothed his hair from his forehead while he closed his eyes and settled into the contours of the couch. She watched him sniffle a bit. He must be tired after all the visits from relatives, all the noise and talk about what was going to happen to everyone, how much money might be going to the children and their mother, how much the girlfriend was entitled to (since she and the deceased had been engaged), how much of this ... how much of that ... No wonder the boy was upset and just wanted his father back. Yasmin leaned over. "Do you want any dinner?" The boy shook his head. "I don't know. I don't want anything. I want my Mummy, I want my Daddy." "That's all right. Just go to sleep." Yasmin got up from the couch and turned out the light. The room was semi-dark. Yasmin left the room.

He had the same dream every night. A lake would appear in the blackness and a coffin which over time became a boat would appear in the middle of the still waters. Daddy would be sitting in the boat with his fishing rods lying beneath his seat and a bucket of bait beside him. He would be wearing his cap and sunglasses, scanning the water. Then he'd pick up one of the rods beside him it would already be prepared with a line then he'd take some bait from the bucket to hook onto the line and lift the rod over his head. He would fling the line as far out as he could into the water. He'd hear a soft plop and with a satisfied grunt settle back onto his seat. Or he might rest the rod on the
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side of the boat and lower the line into the water. In the first couple of dreams Daddy didn't take any notice of him then in the third or fourth (or maybe fifth) dream Daddy would start looking in his direction. Once or twice he winked and on one occasion even mouthed "Hey there!" After a couple of weeks like this, he started talking. "Why aren't you out here? Fishing's good, it's always good." Then he'd lapse into silence again and stare at the water. These dreams were usually short. The boy would start calling out and wake himself up. He would find himself sitting upright in bed with the blankets lying askew. "Dad, Dad," he whimpered. Eventually he would cry himself back to sleep. He might have another dream in the same night but it would be about something else.

At least Mummy was very happy now, he was glad about that. She was walking better and faster she didn't need a walking stick any more - and was exercising now using an aerobics DVD borrowed from one of her friends. One day she came home with this friend laughing a lot. "Good news, my little chicks!" she said to the children, "all of Daddy's property and money belongs to us now and Daddy's girlfriend has agreed to take whatever Daddy gave her before the accident and won't bother us any more." The women flung themselves down on the couch and the couch sighed very loudly, so loudly, that Mummy and her friend laughed out aloud again and started talking about all kinds of things: buying a new house, new clothes, maybe I'll go on a holiday with Gavin up the coast But what about the kids, are you taking them too? Oh, they can stay with Yasmin or Mum, I just want some time with Gavin, it'll only be for three weeks ... and so the garbled conversation between the women went on. The children gazed at each other with furrowed brows and then the sister got up off the floor and walked out, the boy sprawled in the middle of the sitting room while the women continued talking. "Mum, Mum", he managed to say when there was a pause in the conversation, "who who's Gavin?" "What?" his mum gasped, "what did you say?" "He means your new boyfriend", her friend hissed into her ear. "Oh!" Mummy said, "well, I think you'd better go to your room and play quietly there because I have a lot of things on my mind and to do around here and you'll be in the way if you stay here. Go on, go!" He went through the foyer and into the corridor. He passed his sister's room and heard through the closed door the muffled sound of crying. He knocked timidly. "It's me. What's up?" "Go away!" his sister yelled from inside.

The dreams became more real, so real he could reach out and touch the water, the water was so cold, and he would put his fingers into his mouth and his tongue could taste how sweet and fresh the water was, so unlike the water out of the taps, the sprinklers or the plastic water bottles. Daddy would sometimes show him what he had caught but as the days went on, Daddy spent less time
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staring into the water or trying to catch something he'd never been all that good at fishing, the boy remembered now - and more on talking to him. "Doesn't matter", he'd say, "it's not catching the fish that matters, it's just being out here doing nothing but watch the world go by. Feeling the sun and the breeze on your face and in your hair. Looking out over the bay" he gestured with his arm and the boy's eyes would follow the sweep of the sun-browned arm across the surface of the water and the silhouette of grey-blue hills that crowned the bay's horizon "seeing the yachts go by and wishing one day we could have a yacht like that so we can go sailing on the open sea. You'd like that, wouldn't you?" Of course he would! Daddy and he would go sailing out of the bay and into the blue ocean where they would see the whales passing by in the distance, lifting their heads to breathe out huge white puffs of air and water vapour and then move their upper bodies smoothly above the waterline until their tails waved gaily at the yacht before the animals dived down into the sea. He and Daddy would talk about the wind, where it was coming from, how hard it was blowing, whether they should sail against the breeze or let it guide them. They would look at the waves and note how the water was buffeting the boat, how deep the swell looked and if it would get any stronger or gentler. They would watch the birds flying overhead and Daddy would start talking about how thousands of years ago, people sailing in flimsy outrigger canoes with their loads of coconuts and breadfruit and chickens would look up and study the birds' flight patterns and where the birds circling about in the air might actually be flying to, because where the birds were going, there would be land where the sailors could stop and rest, and maybe build huts from the palm trees there, build a new life with their coconuts, breadfruit and animals. It all sounded very exciting, creating a new life in a new land after sailing for weeks. Which Daddy had been doing in his boat for a long time now. "Are we gonna be like those sailors with the chickens and coconuts, Daddy? Are we gonna make a new house with palm leaves?" "That would be an interesting adventure", Daddy said once, "living on an island and building a new life, yes, that would be something you and I can look forward to once we're together again." "We will be together again?" "I'm pretty sure, yes, we'll be together sooner than you know." "Really? We'll be together soon? But, but ... you're dead, how can we be together soon?" "Don't worry, son, there'll be things happening soon, I know they will, you gotta be patient and trust me. We'll be together soon and we'll be in the yacht on the open seas going to a new land where the people in their canoes followed the birds. Don't worry!"

There were more dreams like that where Daddy would be sitting in his boat (getting bigger with each dream and changing from blue to bright blue and then pastel blue) and he would no longer have the fishing rod out resting on the edge of the boat (which by now had a metal rail so the rod would actually be resting on that) but he would be looking out across the bay and describing the weather and water conditions. "Wind's gotta be blowing in the right direction", he'd say or it might be "One day we'll follow the whales and see where they go to have their babies. We
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can't go too close to them, the mums get very protective around the calves. But we'll follow them at a distance. And we might meet those sailors in their canoes who follow the birds and the clouds and the stars at night to find new islands."

When he wasn't asleep and immersed in his dreams, the world around him was changing rapidly. One day his sister was at home teasing him and the next day, an aunty came over and took her away. Mummy told him she'd be staying with Aunty for a week. Then Mummy started packing her things and her boyfriend Gavin came by and took her away. "I'll be gone for a few days", Mummy had said. Yasmin was now looking after him. She took him to school and brought him home each day and they would make spagbol some nights and eat takeaway other nights. Sometimes one of Yasmin's friends would call by the house and they would bring hamburgers or chips or fried chicken which they would all have together, the boy included. Then Yasmin and her friend would smoke some very strong, smelly cigarettes which made the boy dizzy with the smoke and Yasmin would say to him, better go to bed or lie down on the couch. So he did that but he would lie wide awake, his hands and legs trembling in a funny way. One afternoon, when again a friend came by with a carton of drinks and she and Yasmin began talking, drinking and smoking, he went to his room once the smoke made him feel dizzy, lay down on the bed and stared at the shadows growing across the dirty ceiling. What's going on? Where's my sister, why did she go away quickly like that? Why did Mummy go away and not take me with her? Why is Yasmin here all the time now? Why did everyone desert me? He opened his eyes, got out of bed and went down to the sitting-room. He saw Yasmin and her friend in a tangled heap of arms, legs and long hair, snoring harshly and irregularly, surrounded by smelly cigarette butts and empty bottles. In another room the loudspeakers were visibly pumping out hectic beats and high-pitched police-siren melodies. Wherever he went, the rooms smelt of a sickly sweet smoke. He felt he didn't belong to this house. He opened the back door and went out into the yard. The yard backed onto a nature reserve. The fence had never been maintained since his parents broke up and he crawled under a couple of broken palings. He took a few steps into the tangled grassy weeds, fell over and tumbled into the damp blades and stalks. He crawled as best as he could through the undergrowth. He tried to stand up but something hard and strong grabbled him by the leg and pulled him down. "Ouch!" There was a sharp stabbing pain on his left leg just above the knee. He turned over on his back and tried to lift his leg. His leg felt heavy and there was a burning feeling around the spot where the pain had just flashed by. His hands felt heavy and slow. Everything about him was reacting slowly. His vision went watery and blurred. He blinked and it was as if his vision was swimming in invisible jelly.

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"What's ... what's ... whasss ... happening to me?" he wondered blearily. He felt tingly all over. He shut his eyes. He felt that he was drowning. His breathing was laboured and he was gulping for air. "Hey, what're you doing down there?" A man's voice came swimming to his ears. It was a familiar voice. It was it was Dad! "Hey, I'll get you out." An arm plunged into the water, grabbed his shoulder hard and hauled him out of the water as though he were feather-light. He blinked but everything around him was a blur. "Where am I? Dad, Dad ... is that you?" "Yes, it's me, son." He blinked again and this time he could make out an oval blob with features that looked human. His vision grew less fuzzy and he saw the blob was perched on something resembling the upper part of a human torso with shoulders and attached arms, dressed in that faded black T-shirt with the giant shark on front that Dad nearly always wore on his fishing trips. He peered at the face again and soon sunglasses settled in front where the eyes should be (and the eyes were forming behind the dark glasses as well), an old worn grey hat materialised over the head and bristly moustache and beard hairs formed on the lower face. "Wow, Dad ... I'm finally here with you." "Yes, son, you are. And this time, we'll be together all the time." "Really? We ... we'll be together all the time?" "Yep, you and me here, together, fishing. It's taken a while but you made it." And his dad covered him with a huge, warm hug ... yes, a lot warmer and somehow more full of energy and strength than what he remembered from before, when they were all still together, Mum, Dad, sister and himself. "We'll be catching lots of fish now, won't we, Dad? Big fish too, eh?" "Yeah, and we'll have a yacht soon too so we can go into the open ocean and be like those people with the chickens and coconuts, searching for a new island." "Wow, that's great, Daddy!" He paused, trying to remember something. "Hey ... what about sis? Can we bring her too?" "Not yet, son, it'll be too soon. But she'll be with us when the time is right. Just gotta be patient. We'll be waiting for her. Right now, you got to get your technique for throwing the line out right so when we go out in the yacht, you'll be helping me catch a lot of fish."

Yasmin and her friend looked everywhere in the house and in the garden for him but couldn't find him at all. They phoned his Mum on her mobile phone but got the same disconnection message from the telecom operator. They phoned his Aunty who was looking after his sister but got the same answering machine message. They phoned the emergency number and the police
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came and asked all around the neighbourhood if anyone had seen a small boy. The police combed through the tall grasses on the nature reserve and sent their dogs sniffing under the bushes and shrubs. No-one could find the boy at all. The girl went back to live with Mum and her boyfriend but missed her younger brother and his questioning ways. She would spend a lot of time looking out the window in the evenings, waiting to see a star falling across the sky.

END

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