Twin Blessings and Toward Home: Twin Blessings / Toward Home. Carolyne Aarsen
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drive through the hills would have been silent if it had depended on Logan or Sandra to make conversation. Fortunately the girls had more than enough to talk about. They asked Sandra questions about what they were going to see, even though they knew.
“I can’t guarantee we’re going to see a lot of meteor activity,” Sandra said as Logan parked the van at the top of the hill on a graveled turnout. “But from what I know, this is an ideal time.”
“One-thirty in the morning is anything but ideal,” Logan muttered, getting out of the van.
“Hey, you didn’t have to come.” Sandra angled him a quick glance.
In the reflected glow of the van’s headlights, Sandra caught his eye, and she once again remembered the feel of his hand on hers. She looked away.
“C’mon, girls, get the stuff we’ll need and then we can get this show on the road,” she said.
Sandra pulled her sweater closer around her. The daytime temperatures were hot, but in the open prairie, the middle of the night was always cool.
“Where do you want us to be?” Logan asked, carrying the blanket that Sandra had taken along.
“I’d like to go just beyond the gravel. The hill is open to the south, and I’d like to face that direction.” Sandra led the way, the beams from the van illuminating her path through the brush.
They came to an open hillside, protected from a faint breeze by the trees that fanned out on either side.
“Perfect,” Sandra said with satisfaction. “Okay, girls. Lay out your bags right here.”
“I’ll go and shut off the van’s headlights,” Logan offered, handing Sandra the blanket. Her eyes were still semiblinded by the van’s lights, so she couldn’t see his expression. He waited a moment, then turned and left.
“Here, girls, help me lay out this blanket,” she said to the girls, pulling herself into the moment. Concentrate, concentrate, she thought.
She wished she hadn’t asked him along. It was going to be an awkward event.
“We remembered our flashlights and pens and paper,” Bethany offered as they laid the blanket out.
“Good for you. I’m hoping we’ll see a lot of meteors right now.”
A rustle in the bushes brought her senses to alert, then she realized it was Logan coming back from the van, and she felt even more tense.
Her eyes were slowly becoming adjusted to the dark, and she felt a sense of déjà vu. Remembered another time he had materialized out of the darkness.
Sandra turned quickly to the girls and sat on one edge of the blanket, indicating that they were to sit beside her.
“What is the name of the meteor shower we’re going to watch?” she asked, putting on her teacher’s voice as she tried not to notice Logan sitting down just a few feet away.
“The Phoenicids,” both girls replied.
“Good. So why are we up this early in the morning to watch them?”
“Because the moon is gone now,” Bethany said, stifling a yawn. “And the sky is as dark as it is going to be.”
“And what is the moon called?”
Silence greeted that question.
“The moon,” Brittany said, puzzled.
“A gibbous moon. Another word for the shape of the moon.” Sandra pulled out her book of star charts as she spoke. “And what’s another reason we’re up at this ridiculous time?”
Silence again.
Sandra was disappointed that they hadn’t remembered what she had shown them this afternoon. It didn’t speak well for her training, and some perverse part of her was trying to show Logan what a good teacher she was.
Then Brittany rescued her. “I think I remember. Is it because we’re facing the same way the earth is traveling in the orbit?” Sandra could hear the question in her voice. “You said something about snow and snowflakes and driving.”
“Very good.” Sandra felt a surge of relief. “If we’re facing in any other direction, it’s like looking out of the back window of a van during a snowstorm. You’ll see some meteors, but not as much as if you’re in the front of the van. Right now we’re heading into the meteor shower, like a van into a snowstorm.” She went on to show the girls where in the sky was the best place to look. Flashlights came out, and they bent over the book.
“Uncle Logan, come and see, too,” Brittany ordered. And Uncle Logan obediently got up from his side of the blanket and looked over Sandra’s shoulder.
She tried to concentrate on what she was showing the girls, but all her senses were alert to his presence behind her.
Luckily it was dark, and the girls were bent over the book, pointing out the constellations.
“Okay, get out your pens and paper and be sure to notice where you see meteors, how long you see them and keep a note of the time between them.”
The flashlights were shut off, and the little group was plunged into darkness.
Slowly, as Sandra’s night vision righted itself, she could better make out the figures of the girls lying down on the blanket beside her and Logan, who sat behind them.
She hugged her knees, looking at the sky. She knew she was going to get a sore neck if she stayed in this position, but she was certainly not going to lie down. Not with Logan so close behind her.
“There’s one,” Brittany said, pointing up.
“Mark it down,” Sandra prompted. “But try to write without the flashlight so your eyes don’t have to get used to the dark again.”
She heard their pens scratching on the paper.
“So how did you know when the shower was coming?” Logan asked from behind her.
“Earth intersects these meteoroid swarms at about the same relative time and place each year,” Sandra said confidently, clutching her knees. She was on familiar territory here.
“And where does the name come from?”
“When we cross one of these swarms, the meteors seem to come from a common point of origin, known as a radiant. This regular shower is named after the constellation from which it seems to originate.”
He was quiet again. Then he got up and stretched out on the other side of Brittany. Sandra ruthlessly suppressed a twinge of disappointment. Crazy. That’s what it was.
Or maybe just plain loneliness, another voice said.
Sandra pressed her chin against her knees, staring at the stars that went directly to the horizon, meeting the faint outline of the hills that sloped away from them. Sitting outside under the stars always made her feel vulnerable and philosophical.
The lines of her life had, of late, not fallen in pleasant places. She thought that her hard-won freedom would have given her a sense of satisfaction. Instead it was as if each move was a move away from something rather than a move toward something.
She glanced past the girls at Logan, who lay on the blanket, his hand under his head. He seemed to know what he wanted and how to go about getting it. In spite of his interference, or maybe because of it, she realized that he was a concerned uncle. She wondered how many of the men she had met in her life would willingly take in two young girls, thereby risking their own freedom.
She sighed lightly, her gaze falling on the girls who were watching her watching Logan.
She looked away.
“How many have you seen, Bethany?” she asked, disconcerted that they had caught her staring at their uncle.
“Four already.”
“Good