Twinkle Twinkle

Chapter Three

I’m done eating now, so I hurry outside and head towards the car. Even though I’m old enough to sit in front, I often end up choosing the back seat out of habit. That won’t be happening today, though. Somehow, I feel that since we’re on an important mission and all, sitting in the back would be highly inappropriate. I’m honestly not sure why I think that makes sense. I just know that it does.

I get in and Dad says, “Took you long enough.” He turns on the ignition.

“Are we going to the spot where I lost my star?”

“No, that’s not important.”

“So, where exactly are we going?” We’re moving much faster than what Dad usually considers safe. I guess he did say we had to hurry.

“We’re going to see an astronomer. That’s the only way we can find your star.”

I sigh. “Right.”

I feel like I still don’t really understand what this whole star business is all about. I mean, I never even heard anything about it till today. Oddly enough, Bridget seemed to know about it. When exactly did that little girl learn about all this wacky nonsense?

Never mind that. I should probably just ask Dad to explain this…situation. Right now, it’s like I’m a protagonist who doesn’t know what the plot is about. That can’t be a good sign.

“Dad, I’m really confused.”

“That’s normal. I felt confused at that age too.”

“I’m not talking about THAT. I’m talking about this star business. I don’t really get it.”

Dad sighs. “I think it’s time for the talk.” He then takes a deep breath, which I find overly dramatic. “You see, everyone has a star assigned to them at birth.”

“So basically, each star in space belongs to someone.”

“No.” Dad shakes his head. “The stars in space are completely different from an individual’s personal star. A personal star is more of an abstract concept than a physical entity. It can’t even be seen with the human eye.”

“Then how could you tell my star was gone just by looking at me?”

“Because even though a person’s star can’t be seen, on some level it can be felt. When you look at someone, you can ‘feel’ their star. You can feel its colour, its brightness, and even its size. When I look at you though, I can’t feel anything. That’s how I know your star’s gone.”

“Was my star big?” I don’t know why, but I have a feeling my star must have been unusually big.

“It was HUGE. And that’s probably why it was stolen. A big star means a long lifespan. Star snatchers steal them in order to extend their own lives at the expense of their victims.”

“Ah…I think I get it now.”

“We’re here.”

Dad stops the car and we get down. I can’t help but notice that the house we’re walking to looks familiar.

“Isn’t this Aunt Meg’s place?”

“Yeah. She’s the astronomer we’ll be seeing.”