Cody ran up the hill with his red Celestron telescope, which was almost as tall as he was. His same-aged cousins chased him. Diana hadn’t expected him to be in charge even though he was about to start junior year. Soon enough, there’d be college. She’d always thought of her son as a vulnerable child with seizures and was afraid he’d have one this trip.
His cousins took off after him, shrieking with delight. They were hoping to get a closer look at the stars and meteors that populated the sky every August. Now, they sat down in a close circle listening to him explain how the telescope worked and what they’d be able to see. Margaret, with her straight blond hair, Libby, with her tiny, pert face, and Kaden with his crew cut, were clearly in awe of Cody. “If you just want to watch meteors,” Cody said. “Just look up. The scope is just for stars and planets.”
“Why?” Margaret asked.
“The meteors move too fast. You need to have a wider field of vision to see where they go.”
Last year had not been like this. The cousins lay in the driveway, gazing upward to watch the streaks across the sky. Cody was in bed, recovering from a seizure.
This morning, Cody had mowed the lawn on a John Deere. Tom had showed him how to ride it. He rarely did chores at home, and Diana was happy to see him becoming responsible.
Crystal brought out chocolate cake. Suddenly, the kids surrounded her, all wanting some. Cody’s cousins were shouting, “Mom!” Crystal cut generous pieces and handed them out. After a few bites, Cody continued setting up the telescope.
The golden retriever, Bailey, went around sniffing. When he got to the telescope, Cody stopped to pet him and then looked through the eyepiece. “Hey!” he called to the other kids, his curls shaking as he stood up, “You have to see this planet!” All three of them came running.
Then, Libby screamed. She had skinned her knee. Blood spattered on her white socks, and she ran toward the house. Quickly, Cody followed, banging the screen door on his way in.
It was completely dark now, and white streaks punctuated the sky. Margaret had the telescope, and Kaden was just looking straight up into the atmosphere. Paler than meteors, stars dotted the sky overhead. The breeze mussed Diana’s hair. She pushed the strands out of her face and then backwards, hoping to bury the gray. She pulled her jean jacket closer.
At last, Cody and Libby came out of the house, her knee taped in gauze. “She’ll be fine,” he announced. Libby smiled. Then, the kids each took their turn with the eyepiece, Cody letting Libby go first. Diana thought of the far look Cody sometimes got, though he did well in school. He was slight for his age. Looking at him now, she saw that he was more independent than she realized.
The meteor shower was in full swing. Each streak of light was moving quickly above the steep landscape, reminding Diana that she and her family were part of a larger universe. The Perseids were vast and limitless. Anything any of them did on earth had no impact on these extraterrestrial rocks.
Cody must know, since he became unfastened in time whenever he had a seizure. A visit to infinity. Every minute he seized was like an hour for her. It had been a while since he’d had an episode. At least his epilepsy had calmed down.
Soon, Diana and Cody would drive home. The future could deliver anything: sickness or health, strength or weakness. Diana couldn’t help thinking that she had way less power over their lives than she’d imagined. But tonight, she was proud of her son and contented with the lights in the sky.
Elizabeth Morse is a writer who lives in New York’s East Village. Her fiction has been published in literary magazines such as Blue Lake Review, The Raven’s Perch, and Bright Flash Literary Review. Her full-length poetry collection, “Unreasonable Weather,” is forthcoming from Kelsay Books in 2025. She has her MFA from Brooklyn College.
