The Entirely Fabricated Story of Lizzie Nickerson

Chapter 24

And, so it came to pass, Lizzie Nickerson had become a familiar fixture of her Aunt Sonya's apartment building, her middle school, and the surrounding Cincinnati neighborhood. Maribeth Finch had faded into the ether, a child of another time and place, a vague recollection. If truth be told, most people didn't even notice the name change. Maribeth had always been regarded as the pale, quiet, unusual girl who kept to herself unless you had the misfortune of introducing a favorite topic of hers into the conversation. At that point, she would blather on and on, her encyclopedic knowledge on full display, citing statistics and data from articles she'd read. One such episode occurred in fourth grade, in her science class.

The teacher, Mr. DelVecchio had drawn an outline of a person on the whiteboard, a simple shape not unlike a gingerbread man.

"What are we?" he asked. "What are humans?"

Most students pondered the existential question before offering an answer, but, being ten-year-old kids, more than a few had other things on their minds. Duval Williams was thinking about his mother's baked pork chops. Olivia Sansonetti, who sat near the windows, thought it would be an excellent afternoon for riding bikes with her sister.

"We're not plants," said Mr. DelVechhio. "Right? Nobody needs to water us and take measures to ensure we get enough sunlight." He grinned broadly, indicating he was using humor to make his point.

He didn't expect responses suggesting that humans were bipedal lifeforms who ruled the Earth, or societal creatures with big brains and opposable thumbs, but DelVecchio had hoped someone would offer a thought to get the conversation rolling. 

"We are mammals," he said with all the enthusiasm he could muster. "A classification of animals but animals nonetheless. And we're made mostly of what?"

No hands were raised.

"We're made mostly of water! Adult humans are about sixty percent water. That's right. We're more than half water! Our blood is ninety percent water. The human brain is about eighty percent water. So we're mostly made of water."

He noticed Lizzie shaking her head.

"Maribeth, is there something you'd like to say?"

"Lizzie."

"Excuse me?"

"Lizzie. Lizzie Nickerson."

The classroom swelled with eye rolls and deep sighs.

"She wants to be called Lizzie," said a boy seated near the front of the classroom.

"Sorry. I forgot." Mr. DelVecchio scratched his chin. "Lizzie. Is there something you'd like to add?"

"We are stardust."

She remembered Indigo singing the song, 'Woodstock,' doing such a terrible job of imitating Joni Mitchell's unique voice, that Maribeth covered her ears.

"Momma, what does she mean we are stardust?"

"I think it's true," said Indigo. "Joni would never lie, man. She's a poet with an honest heart."

Maribeth's mouth twisted into a pretzel of lips. "We're made of dust that fell off of stars?"

Indigo shrugged. "You could look it up the next time you're hangin' at the library."

"Stardust?" said Mr. DelVecchio.

Classmates turned, their eyes going from Lizzie to the teacher.

Mr. DelVecchio crossed his arms. "I've heard that, too. But I don't think that's entirely true."

"Yes, it is," she said. "The atoms of our bodies can be traced directly to stars."

"Atoms?" said Mr. DelVecchio, tapping the marker in his palm. "You're making this more confusing than it needs to be, Lizzie. And you're getting the class discussion way off-topic." He offered a lighthearted chuckle. "Let's save atoms for another time. Right now, can we please just stick to talking about mammals?"

It was too late. Lizzie's brain had begun unwinding the thread of the monologue looping through her mind. "According to The American Museum of Natural History." She strained to recall the quote. "Every atom of oxygen in our lungs, every atom of carbon in our muscles, of calcium in our bones, of iron in our blood, was created inside a star before Earth was born."

"Okay, Lizzie. That's enough. I think you're confused."

"Oh, geez. You're the one who's confused," she said. "Hydrogen and helium, the lightest elements were probably produced in the Big Bang."

Madison Potts couldn't take it. She lowered her head to the desk and covered her head with her arms.

"You know," said the teacher. "They call it the Big Bang theory. It's a theory, Lizzie. A theory."

Lizzie prattled on. "Almost all of the other, heavier, elements were produced inside stars. Heavy elements were created by, what's the word? Fusion! That's it. Fusion. Stars made heavy elements in their cores by fusion. The elements mixed into the star's atmosphere and spread into space through stellar winds. You know what stellar winds are, don't you?"

"Lizzie, please stop," said Mr. DelVecchio.

"We are billion-year-old carbon." She borrowed another lyric from the song. "You know, humans are made of only six elements." She forged onward. "Oxygen hydrogen..."

"Lizzie, we're talking about mammals now."

"Carbon. And, I think hydrogen and nitrogen."

He spoke a little louder, his patience nearing its breaking point. "Please stop talking and give someone else a chance to participate."

Madison Potts began to cry.