Seth

“I was standing right here when I threw them in that direction.”

Jennifer pointed with one hand while hugging the boy tight against her in the other. Her hands were cold now that she had surrendered her gloves to him, and he now sat in her lap contentedly eating a handful of cookies.

The three of them had reached the area of Wilson’s Pass where the meteor had been headed and where she had first discovered the strange-looking rocks, which she now knew were pieces of the spherical apparatus that would carry the boy back to his home.

He had been unusually quiet on the ride through the woods and heavily rutted road that had wound its way towards the dry river bed. There were several moments when she was sure that he and Tom had somehow been in silent communication without her being able to listen in, but like the boy, Tom had been quiet as well.

By the time they had reached the spot where she had tracked the meteor’s path only a couple of days before, the boy was significantly chilled and hungry again. Tom had immediately offered to start surveying the area where she had thrown the pieces with the rolling magnet while she attended to him, an offer she had gratefully accepted.

Tom followed the direction she was indicating with his eyes, which had been shaded against the early afternoon sun. The rolling magnet was clutched in the other hand and his silhouette stood out in stark contrast against the background. Since they had arrived his eyes had instinctively shied away from the spot where Seth’s body had been discovered, and while she had tried to do the same, they kept straying to that lonesome spot on the opposite end of the bank.

“How many pieces are still missing? Was it three or four?” He set the rolling magnet on the ground and began to push it slowly forward so that it flattened the vegetation underneath it. There were several areas where the brush was significantly thick, and she wished that she had paid more attention to where exactly she had flung the pieces. She had been distracted that day, thoughts of Tom, the memory of Seth, and the meteor all whirling around in her mind. The fact that the meteor had come to rest almost on the exact spot where Seth had died still tugged at her thoughts, and she wondered yet again if there was some deeper meaning attached to all of this. Coincidence could only account for so much, and coupled with how the events of the past two days had unfolded, she was certain that there were greater forces at work here.

“It was four.” She handed the boy a sandwich when he had finished the last of the cookies, and he took it from her gratefully. He was staring out at the flat, winding channel of the dry river bed with large solemn eyes, his small body shivering despite the layers of clothing and blankets he was covered in.

Tom nodded and continued to push the rolling magnet around, his gaze intent on the ground before him.

She turned back to the boy, who was halfway through the sandwich. Now that she had trimmed his hair back and away from his face, the resemblance to Seth was startling. She recalled the strange, dark gray shape that had stumbled clumsily through the brush when she had sent the rocks flying out and away from her, the child-size, ungainly creature with the abnormally long arms that had stroked her face as she slept. Would she have loved and cared for this being if it hadn’t taken on the appearance of her son? She had been temporarily afraid, that was true, but only because her mind hadn’t had ample time to process what it was seeing. She had never given much thought to what—if anything—lay beyond the horizon of her own existence, and when Seth had died and slowly one by one all of her friends and family had drifted away in the wake of her grief, she had even less reason to believe in anything. Faith had never been a strong point with her, not in the sense that she didn’t believe there had been or was a higher power in the universe, only that it was largely impersonal and was simply too great of a mystery to ever fully comprehend.

Watching the boy while he ate quietly and gazed out at a landscape that was largely alien to his own senses, she believed that yes, she would have loved and cared for him despite what his original appearance had been. There had been a tender innocence in their previous encounters, however brief, and she had never once feared for her own life or safety. The fact that he had taken on the countenance of her dead son was purely opportunistic, as evidenced by the photograph and lock of hair that had been removed from the house and found lying outside. She doubted that he could have known the backstory to the photo, much less what had become of the subject, but the fact remained that she was grateful for what had happened. While she knew that the boy was not her son Seth, he had in a way given her a sort of closure. Here she was at the scene of the most unspeakable pain she would ever know as a human and as a mother, with the man who had become for her a sort of anchor in a sea of uncertainty.

There was no denying that she had feelings for Tom and that he shared them with her, and as for how and why they had been allowed to flower in so short a time despite all that had happened, she could only attribute it to the boy’s arrival.

I wish I could show you my home. You’ve shared yours with me, yet I can give you nothing in return.

The boy turned to look at her, his eyes large and full of sympathy. She smiled down at him and adjusted the comforter more securely around his shoulders. “You have given me something, something which I didn’t believe was ever possible for me again.”

Tom gave a shout and began waving his arms to attract her attention. “I found one! Jennifer, it worked!” He held up something in his hand which had apparently been attracted to the rolling magnet. She waved back to acknowledge him, and then she turned back to the boy who continued to stare at her, waiting patiently. “You have given me hope that things will get better, that life is worth living again.” She motioned towards Tom and the boy followed her gaze. “You did all this, didn’t you? You brought two people who were lost in their own loneliness together, but more than that,” She smoothed the hair away from his face, more out of habit than necessity. “You gave me time back with my son, or at least the memory of him.” She wrapped her arms securely around the boy, hugging him close to her. “I can let Seth go now. Oh, I’ll never forget him or you, but I can let him rest until we meet again.”

How small the boy seemed, a child of no more than five years of age. Yet he had become a pillar of strength for her in the past couple of days, a strange yet achingly familiar reminder that while not all mysteries were meant to be understood, the very fact that they existed at all was the most important point. She didn’t need to have a firm grasp of theology, astrophysics, or even astronomy: the fact that she loved this boy and he loved her was proof enough that while there may be some things in this universe which the human mind could not comprehend, the heart knew to be true. Love, plain and simple, was the one thing linking everything together.

You’re happy.

She couldn’t help but laugh, the smile feeling genuine for the first time in months. “Yes. More than I ever thought possible or what I deserved.”

The boy smiled back, his small face alight. You won’t be lonely after I’m gone.

In the distance, Tom began waving his arms again, this time holding up something in both hands rather than one.

Three of the four pieces had been recovered.

There was one last piece of the puzzle left to be found, and once it was this chapter of her life could come to a close and another could begin.

She watched Tom pocket the pieces and begin surveying the surrounding area with renewed zeal. No doubt this experience was having its own impact on him as well, and as to what the future held for both of them….

The warmth of the boy’s hand in hers seemed to provide the answer, and she simply sat there with him nestled in her arms as Tom suddenly threw down the rolling magnet and began clearing the brush away from a spot on the ground. His face was set and determined, and he began to tear away at the dried grass, casting it away in handfuls.

He began shouting for her, his eyes aglow as he retrieved something from its hiding place in the brush.

They now had the final piece, and with a slow exhalation of air, she gathered her strength.

Tom was now heading towards the Polaris with sure, wide strides, his pockets bulging with the day’s finds. “Jennifer, we have them! We have all the pieces to—”

The spherical object, which had been tightly nestled in its wooden carton in the back storage compartment, suddenly begin to hum and pulsate in a rapid, rhythmic manner. The soft blue glow began to brighten to an almost incandescent white, and the crystalline structures within were afire with a cool energy.

The boy began to fidget under the comforter and she hurriedly unwound it. Tom’s pace quickened when he saw the change in the apparatus, but Jennifer held up her hand to indicate that they were safe. He came near to her side of the vehicle, and when he did, the hum of the object increased in pitch.

“Here, give them to him.” The boy was now free of the comforter and was climbing off of her lap, his small hands extended to receive the pieces.

Tom removed them from his pockets and carefully handed them to the boy, and when he did, they began to glow and glimmer with their own icy light.

The boy gazed down at them in the palms of his hands as they began to move towards one another. They came together with a click that was more felt than heard, notching together into a slightly curved piece.

Jennifer felt the finality of the moment and steeled her nerves, determined to be strong. “Are you ready?” She lightly brushed the cookie and sandwich crumbs away from his jacket front, and the boy slowly turned to look at her, his small features awash in the icy light. He looked ethereal yet utterly human, and he nodded solemnly.

“Okay.” She opened the door and he scooted across her lap. Tom reached out to help him from the vehicle, and again came the distinct impression that some silent communication had occurred between them.

The boy moved off to the back of the vehicle where the carton lay. The humming reached a fever pitch and the sphere began to wobble in its wooden cradle. When he was a few feet away, the boy stopped, his hands with the missing piece outstretched. With a metallic zing, the sphere shot up from the carton and hovered in mid-air before the boy, spinning slowly and lazily round and round.

The boy reached up and the missing piece, propelled by its own inner mechanism, slowly rose up from his upturned palms and began to circle the sphere like a glowing satellite. The humming had now edged into a deep pulsating rhythm that throbbed heavily through flesh and bone, and when the sphere rotated to where the gaping hole and the missing piece were lined up, they came together with a loud boom and flash of energy that shook the very ground.

The Polaris rocked dangerously to the side but Tom, who had somehow managed to remain standing, held onto it firmly with one hand. Jennifer could only stare wide-eyed as the boy, who was now completely bathed in the pure, white light emanating from the sphere, reached out and grasped it in both hands.

The light seemed to infuse his very body, illuminating the path of his veins and arteries, and highlighting the contours of his bones and ligaments. A steady wind had begun to blow across the dry riverbed, ruffling the scraggly brush and creating small dust clouds in its wake. The light emanating from the sphere was brighter even then the ambient light from the sun, and everything around it seemed suffused with an inner fire that was divine in its unearthliness.

Come with me as far as you can, Gammeh-te-rah, and then we must part.

The boy turned to look at her, waiting patiently. Without a word she opened the door and climbed out, her legs unsteady. She had been pushed—both physically and mentally—to the brink of exhaustion, yet she knew that there was one final step to complete before she could rest or even think of sleep.

Tom stepped aside as she exited the vehicle, his face etched with concern and a thousand other emotions. She reached out and he took her hand, and together they turned to follow the boy who had begun to walk towards the dry river bed with the glowing sphere still clutched tightly in his hands.

By now the wind had picked up considerably, and all around them the dust swirled as it was eddied about. Small rocks and pebbles danced and skittered across the dry river bed, and underneath her feet Jennifer could feel the ground vibrating and pulsating. She knew she should have felt fear, or at the very least an instinctive sense of self-preservation, but all she could think about was the boy as he walked to the very center of the dry riverbed and stood there, a lone figure amid the whirlwind.

The sphere was now spinning so fast it had become a blinding, brilliant blur before her eyes, and with a flick of his wrist, the boy tossed it into the air where it hovered, pulsing and glowing. He turned to look at her and Tom, his small face aglow.

I love you.

Jennifer felt her resolve waver, and it was only due to Tom’s grip on her hand that she didn’t collapse right then and there from grief. “Take me with you.”

Tom’s grip on her tightened, and the boy, watching closely, slowly shook his head.

Your place is here, where you belong together. You don’t need me anymore.

A sob escaped her lips and she clutched desperately at Tom, the fingers of her hand digging into the thick fabric of his jacket. He made no move to stop her, allowing her to process her grief as she saw fit.

“Tom….” Her voice was practically a wail and she hated it, hated it for all the pain and misery it reminded her of.

“Shh, I know. I know.” He slowly released his hold on her and stepped back. “Go to your son then, and tell him goodbye.”

“Let go of me, you bastard, he needs me!”

How unlike seven months ago this moment was, and with a trembling breath she began to close the distance between her and the boy.

When she was a few feet away from him he suddenly ran to her and threw himself into her arms. The sphere remained where it was, poised in mid-air, spinning rapidly.

She knelt down on the dry riverbed, ignoring the dirt and rocks that whirled and danced in the air and which stung her eyes and exposed skin. She held him close while the grief raged within her. “I love you, always.” She kissed the top of his head, the apples of his cheeks, the smoothness of his forehead. “No matter how much time and distance may separate us, I promise you that will never change.”She could feel the sobs shaking the boy’s small frame as he clung to her, his tears warm and damp against her skin.

She began to sing the lullaby that had soothed him during the worst moments of his time here, when his body had been ravaged by pain, hunger and cold:

“Then the traveler in the dark thanks you for your tiny spark. How could he see where to go if you did not twinkle so?”

The sphere began to emit a deep throbbing that seemed to shake the very earth itself. Chunks of packed earth and rocks, worked loose by the vibrations, tumbled soundlessly from the far embankment. The throbbing obscured all other noise in the surrounding area, drowning out everything save the sound of her voice as she continued to sing to the boy who had ceased crying in her arms:

“Twinkle, twinkle little star, how I wonder what you are. As your bright and tiny spark lights the traveler in the dark, though I know not what you are, twinkle, twinkle little star.”

The last notes of the melody melted away and became part of the throbbing that filled the space between them, and she peered into his upturned face, looking deep into that fathomless blue gaze of his.

“You are my shining star, Seth. Whenever I look up into the night sky, I will think of you always.”

The boy sniffed and blinked away the tears that had left two twin streaks down his face. He nodded and then slowly let go of her and stepped back.

The sphere had now become a whirling, blinding blur as the speed and pitch increased to almost intolerable levels. Jennifer knew that the moment had come when they must part ways forever and she raised her hand, then placed it firmly above her heart. “Amantle.”

The boy mimicked her actions and then he turned to gaze at the glowing, whirling sphere. Cover your eyes, Gammeh-te-rah. You don’t need to see—you’ll know that when I’m gone, I have gone to a better place. I have gone home.

Jennifer closed her eyes, shutting out the vision of the boy for the last time. “Goodbye.”

All at once it seemed that light and sound coalesced into a thunderous, nearly deafening cacophony. She vaguely remembered turning in the direction of where she had seen Tom standing last, and with her eyes still shut against the searing glow of the sphere, she had shouted at him to shield his eyes.

She didn’t hear his response because in an instant the ground shook with an almost explosive force and she stumbled, barely managing to brace herself with the heels of her palms on the dry riverbed. A sound that was more a sensation than a noise coursed through her body, at first filling her with a sense of disorientation that quickly melted away to one of pleasant lassitude.

She swooned, falling forward gently so that she lay with her cheek pressed to the cold, dry ground, the light behind her closed lids reaching an intensity that seemed nearly impossible before fading away and then going dark.

All at once it seemed the sounds of the countryside and of the late afternoon returned, as if they had never been disturbed or drowned out by the ascent of the boy and the spherical object to a place unknown to man, far, far away in a distant cosmos.

She opened her eyes and saw that a ring of small pebbles, dirt, assorted twigs and other bracken had formed a circle at least seven feet in diameter from the spot where the boy had stood. There was no sign of him or of the spherical object, no scorch marks or any other sign as evidence that he had been there, or that he had left an indelible mark upon the lives of two people who were the only witnesses to the miracle.

From behind her, she could hear Tom slowly climbing to his feet as he made his way over to her. She could hear him calling to her, his tone full of worry when she did not respond, but for the moment she was content to simply lie there, her face pressed against the ground that had claimed one son and seen the liberation of another.

“Are you alright?” Strong arms reached under her and gently brought her up into a seated position. She bore all this in silence, her pulse calm and steady as Tom knelt behind her and let her weight settle against his chest. He was warm and smelled of the clean, heady goodness of hay and soap, and when his fingers brushed the hair away from her face, she gazed up at him gratefully.

“He’s gone.”

He nodded, his expression relieved at her calm demeanor. “Yes, he’s gone.”

They sat there together in silence for a few minutes, each lost in their own thoughts as their minds processed all that had occurred. Finally Tom spoke:

“The boy—Seth—he spoke to me without you hearing. He told me to take care of you, to be sure that you were happy.” He scoffed and shook his head. “I’m not sure how I can honor that request, or why he made sure that you couldn’t hear, but—”

“You have.” She reached down and took hold of his hand. She gave it a gentle squeeze and smiled when he returned the pressure. “He told me more than once that he wanted me to be happy, and I am. I finally am.”

She felt the tears threatening once more, but she took a deep breath, refusing to ruin the moment by giving in to despair. The boy was gone yes, but he was safe and would soon return home. Lightyears may separate them, and perhaps even now he was thousands of miles away or was traveling through another galaxy, but what he had given her would remain with her always.

Tom shifted though he continued to hold her close against him. “He also wanted you to have this.” She caught the flash of his phone as he held it up in front of her, and when she saw the image that he had captured, of her gently and tenderly cutting the boy’s hair, she finally couldn’t hold back the tide of emotion any longer.

She grasped the phone in her hands, her vision blurred by the tears that streamed down her face, scrolling through each of the photographs until she reached the end.

Tom merely sat there while she did this, his nearness and silence proof enough that he understood.

When she finished, she handed the phone back to him. She shook her head and chuckled, only now understanding what it all meant.

She repeated a line from the lullaby to herself, whispering it under her breath:

“Then the traveler in the dark thanks you for your tiny spark. How could he see where to go if you did not twinkle so?”

She began to get to her feet, and Tom quickly stood up, bracing her. “Let’s go home. I’d like for you to stay over for dinner again, but I’m afraid that all I have is peanut butter and jelly sandwiches.”

“If you would throw in some orange juice and a few cookies, you’ve got a deal.”

She smiled, and this time it felt not only genuine, but filled with possibilities. “I think I can manage that. After all, my very nice and helpful neighbor dropped off a load of groceries this morning.”

They both began to laugh, and when Tom offered her his arm, she took it.

They began to walk back towards the Polaris, their footfalls the only sound save for the occasional twitter of a bird or the soft rustling of the breeze. It would be dark soon within a few hours, and then the stars would be visible. She knew that they were there now, winking and twinkling just out of sight, waiting for the moment when they could shine forth in all their glory. Seth would be up there too, perhaps the brightest of them all, her little star.