Starlight

A science-fiction story of a different kind

“Is it going to happen soon, daddy?” A little girl asked, yawning, and clutching a small doll.

“We have to wait a little longer,” he answered.

The neighborhood was on their feet, or rather, as with every other natural phenomenon, those who were more into it. Many were staring at the night sky while talking to people next to them. It was hard to tell who was talking to whom at times. There were computers and telescopes, but even the backyard astronomers wanted to see (or rather try to see) the spectacle with their own naked eyes.

The Robinson family had their telescope ready, and the computer screen was aiding in making sure that they didn’t miss the event of the century, a moment in history that was to mark humanity for thousands of years to come.

The initial idea to highlight the event with a loud party and a BBQ was eliminated upon realizing that it would make the stars harder to see. The lack of clouds was a marvelous blessing as if the final extinguishing of a long-dead star had been planned as a turning point a long time ago. The passing of comets and meteors has been for long looked upon as a bad omen. But this, this was something else.

“Is it going to happen soon?” Jenny asked as she was combing her doll’s hair. She then looked up at the sky, then at her dad and at her mom, who was whispering something funny to her husband.

“I know,” he said to his wife. “Don’t worry, honey. It will be soon very soon.”

“How do you know?” Jenny demanded.

“I don’t, but a lot of smarter people did their complicated math, and they came up with the exact time when that small bright dot is supposed to go away. And guess who has the watch.”

She looked at him curiously, and at her mom, who was still smiling over something from before. She suspected it had something to do with the red juice that they rarely drink without ever sharing it with her.

“OK, you remember that TV show where they talked about the universe, and you fell asleep during the montage of various colorful shapes, you remember how they were called?”

“Galak,” she said without quite understanding what she said, but she was quite sure that there were at least one or two letters which she couldn’t remember.

“Ex-Why, galaxy, now after — ” He continued.

“You’re going to over-explain it and she’ll miss the show, let me,” Liz said and bent down to the level with her daughter.

“You remember Lion King?” This question made Jenny happy.

“OK, well, all these stars have been dead for a long, long time, but their light has taken a lot of time to get to us. And, now we know exactly when one of these lights is going to finish its journey, and that will complete its life and its memory.” Jenny looked at her with sad eyes.

“Hey, kiddo, don’t be sad, at some point we’ll get to see the light of another star, the one that was born at some point after this one died.” Jenny hugged her doll tightly, and then her mom.

“Oh, it’s OK, Jenny,” she tried to comfort her sobbing daughter.

“Why does it have to die?”

“So that others can live,” Eric added gently. It made her stop crying. Liz dried her eyes with her sleeve.

“Blow,” she said as she held the tissue over Jenny’s nose, but Jenny was now intrigued by what her dad said.

“You see, we are all connected in some way. Even your doll and you.” Jenny looked at her doll with a newfound sense of wonder.

“How?”

“It’s very simple,” he started despite Liz giving him the look which he saw many times, the ‘I can’t wait to see you get yourself out of this one’. He sometimes failed, but other times he was more successful which didn’t prevent her from enjoying his one-man show.

“How simple?” Liz added with a smile.

“OK, you know how you love pancakes?” She nodded.

“Well, you know what goes in pancakes?” She thought about the question deeply, she wanted to answer maple syrup, but that went on top of pancakes. She didn’t know if that was what he meant so she blurted it out.

“Or a chocolate syrup,” Liz added teasing her husband.

“Sure, those are the things that can go with pancakes, but usually on top of pancakes. I meant pancake mix.”

“Well, why didn’t you say so,” Liz teased.

“Anyway, Jenny, pancakes are made out of milk, and eggs, and flour. So, when you drink some milk and eat some eggs you get yourself a pancake, or at least part of it.”

“Is that so?” Liz continued.

“Yes. Anyways, Jenny, what I’m trying to say is that — ”

“We are all pancakes?” Jenny said with confusion. This made the Robinson family laugh for a good minute.

“Something like that,” Eric finally managed to say. “So, you don’t have to worry about that star, it will add to pancakes, in a way.”

They laughed some more, and then the neighborhood grew quiet, even those who weren’t interested, as if some unspoken respect came into play. Everyone had set an alarm clock in order not to miss the event.

“It’s happening,” he said. Jenny looked up at the sky. Liz lifted her and pointed at the area where to pay attention to. Eric looked at it as well, and then at his computer, verified it with their telescope, and corrected his wife’s finger position.

The dot of light was getting fainter and fainter as the human race watched. It was signaling an erasure of one entire solar system. After its light was gone, it was to be only a memory. There was no comfort in knowing that it has been nothing but light for so long, but soon it wasn’t going to be even that.

Robinson family observed the final breath of a dead star dispersing. If we are all made out of stars, does that mean that we have all seen our life’s source and destination come and go, Eric wondered. He squeezed his family in a tighter hug, and Jenny wondered if her doll tasted like pancakes, she nibbled at its hand for a moment, and was disappointed.