“Yes,
Howie,” Emily’s disembodied voice came over the telephone wire into Howie’s
bedroom.
Back in her
own room, Emily was seated on her bed with her legs crossed, yoga fashion, on
top of her covers. She was still wearing
her shoes, even though her mother told her, time and time again, not to put them
on the bed. She was leaning back against
a pillow with her math book propped in her lap.
At the other end of the bed, a sleeping cat lay with her head on one
paw. Her tail and other paw were
dangling, unconcerned, over the edge, and her whiskers fluttered as she snored.
Ignoring
Snowball, who was named after the cat in the Nancy Drew novels, Emily stared
intently at her math book. Then she
sighed and answered Howie’s first question.
“To solve a quadratic equation, first you reduce the equation to its
simplest terms, and then you find the two solutions that resolve the equation
to zero.”
It was hard
concentrate on math homework when it was such a beautiful night. No one should have to! Framed in the window of her room, she could
see the moon rising over the trees at the far end of Cow Field. One tall sycamore tree looked like it was
giving the man in the moon a leafy beard.
And if that wasn’t distraction enough, when she looked at her desk, she
could see her unfinished novel and a book of Emily Dickinson poems just laying
there. Both were begging to be read.
She was
just about to reopen the novel when Howie called to quiz her on her homework. Not for the first time, Emily wished math had
never been invented.
Even though
it was April, the weather was warm enough to leave the window open to the evening
breeze, and the delicious scents of spring: the flowers, the grasses, and the
trees. Even the dirt smelled good! But Emily especially loved the honeysuckle
vines climbing past her window.
This year
Emily and Howie ended up in the same math class, even though Howie was a senior
and Emily a junior. Small schools often
had to schedule combined grade classes.
What
astounding luck, Howie insisted!
Emily was not
as thrilled. She preferred English and music. She planned on coasting through math with just
enough effort to get a passing grade.
But Howie would have none of that.
He grilled her as mercilessly in math, as she did him on the ball field.
She did not
know why he did it. She did not want to
be a doctor! That was his dream! She wanted to be a poet…and a doctor’s
wife. That is if Howie was going to
become the doctor. If he became a
garbage collector, then she wanted to be a garbage collector’s wife. She wondered what garbage collectors’ wives
discussed over the dinner table. She
hoped they didn’t bring their work home with them.
“Good,
Em! I knew you could remember. Now, what’s the answer to problem number 10?”
What? He wanted her to answer another one? That didn’t seem fair!
There was a
pause on the phone and Howie could hear her bedsprings creak as Emily got up.
The book
was still open in her hands as she walked toward her window. “The answer is… Oh look out your window, Howie.” She closed the book on her finger. “There is the first star of the evening. See how it sparkles.
Snowball,
awakened by the movement of the bed, leaped onto the windowsill, and peered out
into the night. The cat was not
impressed with the sights in the night sky. She flicked her tail in a
disinterested way and headed down the trellis to explore the sights on the
ground. She would be back when her hunt
was over.
Down below
a dog yelped.
Howie and
Emily had the same room in the layout of the two houses, upstairs under the
east eave where the roofs slanted, lowering the ceilings as they neared the
windows. The floors were wooden and the
walls were lath and plaster. Each room
was simply painted. Emily’s was green
and Howie’s was blue. Mrs. Throckmorton
hadn’t found it necessary to modernize Howie’s room.
The
similarities did not stop there. They
both had old fashion beds made of brass that had, somehow, escaped the metal
collection drives of the war. On both
beds were large pillows and thick feather quilts. The beds were placed against the wall facing
the window, so they could see the sun come up in the morning, and the moon come
out at night.
Each room
had a bookcase and desk with a study lamp.
Howie’s bookcase was full of books on astronomy, science, math, and
physics. All of them were carefully alphabetized
and neatly arranged. Emily’s had some
books: poetry, Nancy Drew mysteries, fairy tales, and mythology. But mostly it was lined with knickknacks,
post cards, pictures, and souvenirs. Her
desk was similarly cluttered, which was why she did her homework sitting on the
bed.
Howie had a
two-inch telescope standing by his window.
It was a fifteenth birthday present.
Last summer he dragged Emily all through the nearby fields and hills at
night. They even went into the old
graveyard, looking at the moon and watching for falling stars. When winter came, he gave the telescope a
home by his bedroom window. Emily
enjoyed all the outings, even though it was creepy wandering about the
graveyard at night.
Emily had a
combination hope chest and love seat in front of her window, so she could sit
and read, or look out the window whenever she wanted. She once sat up most of the night composing a
poem to the honeysuckle vine. When she
read it to Howie, he admitted he like it just as much as he liked the poems of
Emily Dickinson. Emily was surprised;
she thought he didn’t like the poems of Emily Dickinson. He claimed that she was the only poetry
writing shortstop he knew, unless one counted limericks.
Emily didn’t
think he was funny.
Both homes
had extension phones upstairs in their hallways. And each phone had a long black cord so it
could be taken into any of the bedrooms.
Emily gave a tug on her cord and dragged it over to the love seat, where
she plopped down and looked out the window.
“I am going
to make a wish,” she told Howie. “Star
light, star bright, first star I see tonight…”
“Emily
Hinton, why aren’t you looking at your math book instead of out the
window? Where is this star?”
Howie
walked over to his window and leaned past the telescope.
“Look out over
the field, Howie. There, next to the
moon. Oh see, the man in the moon is
wearing a beard. Or maybe it is a woman
in the moon. Emily Dickinson thinks
so.” She quoted, ”The moon was but a
chin of gold a night or two ago, and now she turns her perfect face upon the
world below.”
Howie
ignored the poem. “That is a sycamore
tree, Emily and there’s no man in the moon.
Those are craters caused by meteors crashing into it. Don’t you remember looking at them through my
telescope?”
“You have no imagination, Howie.”
“You are right, Em. For example, I can’t imagine you passing the
math test tomorrow.”
“Oh hush,
Howie. And look at the star for a
minute. Isn’t it bright and beautiful?”
“That’s not
a star. That’s a planet. The ancients used to call the planets
wandering stars, because they looked like stars that wouldn’t stay put. Today, we know they’re the planets following
their own orbits around the sun. That
one’s Venus. Some nights you can find
Mars in almost the same place. Venus is
a terrestrial planet, the second one from the sun, and it is a sister planet to
earth, almost the same size, only slightly smaller, but its atmosphere is very
different. It’s so hot on the surface of
Venus that it’d melt lead. It’s hotter
there than on Mercury, even though Venus is millions of miles farther away from
the sun. No life can exist there because
it is covered by dense, poisonous gasses.
That’s why it sparkles. Sunlight
is reflecting off the gasses.”
“Howie,
you’ve got no romance in you at all.
Well, I know from mythology that Venus is the goddess of love, and that
makes her good enough to wish on. I
wish…”
“You better wish you pass the math test
tomorrow. Em, do you want my help or
not?”
“Yes, Howie,” Emily answered meekly. “Boy, you are grumpy tonight. Is your stomach still sore? I don’t think I hit you that hard.”
“Emily!”
“Alright! The two answers that resolve this quadratic equation are 4 and 3.”
“That’s
right! Now, how did you get them?”
What…a
two-part question? That wasn’t fair
either. ”I don’t know, Howie. 4 and 3 just feel right.”
“JUST FEEL
RIGHT!” Howie shouted in the phone.
Remembering
what her father told her at dinner about Zen and intuition, Emily decided to
introduce the philosophy to Howie. “It
must be Zen,” she said.
“ZEN!” Howie’s angry shout came through the phone
and into Emily’s bedroom.
In his own
room, Howie slammed his math book on the desk in disgust. There was that Zen, again. He spent the rest of dinner, after the joke
telling, trying to avoid Mike’s invitation to go fishing. He was sure Mike was going to try and drown
him to teach him to dance - all in the name of Zen. Well, he didn’t believe in Zen. He didn’t believe in fishing. He didn’t believe in drowning. And he didn’t believe in dancing. He believed in logic. And he told Emily so.
“Emily,
algebra isn’t Zen. You cannot give an
answer just because it feels right.
There has to be some reason behind it.”
“Not
everything has to be logical, Howie,” Emily argued. “Some things just feel right. Haven’t you ever heard of intuition? All we females have it.”
Howie said,
“Em, I m going to be a doctor. I can’t
say to patient, ‘I have a feeling you are sick.’ I have to know what he is sick about. That’s science and it’s based on hard, cold
logic! I have to determine a patient’s
real illness and find a real cure for it.
There’s a deductive process called the scientific method, where you form
an opinion, or make a hypothesis, and by following specific tests you determine
whether it’s true or not. Then there are
labs, x-rays, thermometers, cotton balls, tongue depressors…”
“And
FEELINGS, Howard Thomas Throckmorton!”
Quickly,
Howie jerked the phone away from his ear, but it did not help. He could hear Emily’s voice coming in through
his window clear from her bedroom.
“Howie, you have to remember sick people who
come to you will need caring and kindness, as well as curing. Sure, you may to fix their bodies, but you
have to touch their souls also. And that
means caring whether you like it or not.
It means dealing with feelings and emotions. It’s not just logic. Maybe I should become a nurse, so I can
protect patients from all your hard-headed logic,” she added.
“I said
hard, cold logic, Emily!”
“And I say
hard-headed! Emily Dickinson has another
poem – written just for you.” She quoted
again, “Faith is a fine invention for gentlemen who see; but microscopes are
prudent in an emergency!”
Howie could
picture Emily standing in her room, belligerently putting her hands on her
hips, like she always did when she got mad at him.
He
attempted to change the subject. “I hope
you stay this mad when we play against Cornville tomorrow. Then we’re sure to beat them.” If they beat the Cornville High School
Baseball Team, who was their hated rival, Binnington would be the league
champions. Emily wanted to beat them as
badly as Howie.
“Don’t change
the subject, Howie. You’re an unfeeling,
but logical idiot!”
“Emily, I
thought the subject was math.”
“Oh! That’s right!
Well, the answer is 4 and 3. I
just feel it!”
“Okay!” There was a pause. And Howie said, “I have feelings too, you
know.”
Emily’s
disembodied snort came through the telephone into Howie’s room.
“And what
do you have feelings about, Howie?” Emily
crossed her fingers. Say me, she wished
to herself. Say you have feelings about
me!
There was
another pause.
Then Howie continued,
“I feel science and logic can cure most, if not all, of the world’s
problems. I feel that too many crazy
people are running around talking about feelings. I feel my family has more than its share of
lunacy. And I feel that if you don’t
stop talking about feelings and start studying math, you won’t pass the test
tomorrow. And then, I feel you won’t get
to play in tomorrow’s game against Cornville.”
“I got an
‘A’ today on my English paper.” Emily
stuck her tongue out, even though Howie could not see it. I wrote about how Emily Dickinson’s poetry
makes me feel. My feelings got me an
‘A’, Howie. So feelings must count for
something.
“Not in
math they don’t. In math numbers count! I mean it is counting – or about
counting! Anyway it’s based on logic,
not feelings.” Howie was sure Emily was sticking
her tongue out at him.
“Families count too, Howie! And friendships count! And relationships count! AND THEY ARE NOT ALWAYS LOGICAL! Admit it, Howie. Admit relationships count for something.”
Again there
was a pause on the phone.
“I know
relationships count, Em. But sometimes,
I don’t feel like I count with my family.”
“Your
family loves you, Howie.”
“They want
to drown me. And they think I advocate
insurance fraud.”
Emily
giggled. “Oh Howie, I wish I had been
there. It sounds so funny! I think they just mean to help you.”
Howie did
not respond.
“Howie, you
know your family loves you!” argued Emily.
“It is okay, if you do not always feel the same way about things. I know,” she continued, “your dad’s always
bragging to mine about your pitching.
And I think he’s proud about you wanting to be a doctor. It is only natural for him to be sad about
you not going into business with him.
All fathers want their sons to follow in their footsteps. And he’s taking Mike as a partner, so you shouldn’t
feel bad about. Plus, your mom’s always
telling my mom how smart you are.”
Emily
pause, still Howie didn’t say any thing.
So she continued. “When I was in the dress shop today, even your
sister admitted how handsome you were.”
What Meg actually said about him was, “Nothing is going to make him look
much better looking than he does.” But
Emily felt it was close enough to the truth.
“Really?”
asked Howie. He looked at the mirror on
his wall and swept back his red hair. He
tried flexing a muscle.
“Yes,”
Emily continued, and almost against her will, she added, “Karen Switzer was
there and I am sure she heard her.”
“Karen
Switzer, she’s the new girl that moved from Cornville, isn’t she?” Howie heard
she was an outstanding student, and he was worried she might be competition for
the top grades among the seniors.
Howie had
no business being interested in Karen Switzer, so Emily ignored his
question. “And don’t you always tell me
you were your Grandma Ida’s favorite?”
“I used to be,”
Howie replied. She didn’t know about the
vase, yet. He continued, “She thinks I should
go to upstate to
“Howie,”
gasped Emily, as a cloud covered the moon.
Howie’s going away to school was not a subject she liked. Besides, there was a nice college right there
in Binnington. It might even have a
pre-med program. “
Howie
continued, “Grandma and Grandpa were originally from there. She says she met him in a field plowing
behind a mule. She claims she still
thinks Grandpa when she sees the back of a mule. And she suggests I should join a fraternity
there. She thinks it will help make
connections in the future.”
Ha, thought
Emily! Fraternities! With all their partying and chasing girls,
Howie better be too busy studying to join any fraternity, no matter where he
went to college. She was going to have
to tell him he couldn’t go.
“We have a
nice college here, Howie. All the GIs go
to it.”
There was a
pause.
“Em, don’t
you ever want to get away and be your own person.”
“You don’t
have to go to half way across
“I know,”
replied Howie, “but Grandma Ida and Aunt Mae promise they’ll visit.”
And what
about me, Emily wondered?
“The rest
of the family would, probably, be too busy…you know…selling stuff…to miss me. And I shudder to think of how they’d come
dress. You know how they’re like…” Emily laughed, imagining his family showing
up at the school wearing green bowling shirts.
She had to
change the subject or she would cry.
“Look,” she said. “The wind has
sprung up, and blown the moon out from behind the clouds. Now he lost has his beard, he looks much
younger.”
It was
beginning to turn chilly. She got up and
closed her window. Snowball would
scratch on the glass when she wanted back in.
Howie could
hear Emily’s window shut from across the yard.
He reached over and closed his also.
Then he pulled his curtains shut.
“Well, I
suppose I understand this math as much as I am going to,” Emily’s disembodied
voice came through the telephone into Howie’s room. “Math is the last class of the day, so maybe
I will get a chance before then to review it one more time.”
Emily shut
her math book and tossed it under her bed.
She would have trouble finding it in the morning! She continued over to her bed and bounced
back onto it, putting her shoes back on the quilt.
“Did I tell
you I got a new dress for your sister’s wedding? Guess what color it is?”
“Em,”
groaned Howie, to her disappointment.
“Did you have to say anything about the wedding?”
“That
reminds me,” Emily responded, the dress forgotten for the moment. “How did your
dance lesson go?” She got up, walked over
to her dresser, and pulled out a nightgown.
She kicked off her shoes, then modestly
pulled it over her head before taking off her jeans and shirt, and dropping
them on the floor. After all, Howie was
still on the line.
“It was a
disaster. I kicked my mother in the
ankle and I stepped on my sister’s foot”
Emily
giggled, as she jumped back on the bed.
When it was someone else’s foot, it was funny.
“It’s not
funny. What if I had broken her
toe? Mike never would have forgiven me,
if Meg had to hop down the aisle.”
Emily
laughed outright.
“Don’t
laugh, Em. It gets worse. I also broke Grandma Ida’s vase.”
“The big
vase that sits by the door?”
“It used
to.”
“Oh
Howie! Maybe you do need to go to away
to college.”
“I got so
mixed up, I tripped. It was
confusing. Sometimes you count to two,
and sometimes you count to three, and sometimes you even count to four. Once we counted to three - four times. What does that mean?”
“It sounds
like a waltz, Howie.”
“That was
it! We did that, and a swing, and a
foxtrot, and a cha cha, and a tangle.”
“That’s a
‘tango’, Howie. It’s a Latin dance.”
“Did you
know that in a jump, you don’t really jump?
And there was one that started with a ‘B’ that sounded like a monster; I
understand Aunt Mae really loves that one.
But I can’t remember what it was called.
Where do they get those names from, anyway, and how do you remember them
all? I couldn’t tell the steps of a
tango from … from the scratching of a chicken.”
“There is a
dance called the ‘Chicken Dance’, Howie.”
“No!”
uttered Howie, horrified. “You have to
help me, Em. Maybe, I could hide at your
place until after the wedding is over.”
“Howie,
you’re no coward!”
“I’m not?”
“No. Anyone who pitches like you do, and can still
show his face at school the next day, is no coward.”
“Hey!”
Emily
giggled. “Maybe, you should try ballet
dancing. I heard oft a football coach who
enrolled his entire team in ballet to teach them better coordination. You could do that! And I could play some Mozart for you on the
piano, while you practiced.”
“Would I
have to wear tights and a tutu?”
“Male
ballet dancers don’t wear tutus, Howie.”
“Good!”
“They just
wear the tights.”
“Ugh!”
Mrs.
Throckmorton picked up the phone in the kitchen. Her voice came through the wire into both
Howie’s and Emily’s rooms. “Hello,
Emily. Howie, how long will you two be
on the phone? I have decided to call
Grandma Throckmorton tonight, after all.
I won’t get any sleep if I don’t.
And as your father says, ‘Better the boogey man you know, than the
boogey man you don’t know.’”
“That’s
it! That is the monster dance, Em,”
Howie said. “It was the Boogey.”
“Of course,
I have no idea what your father means by that,” his mom continued. “I think it means I have to call Grandma Ida,
myself, because he refuses to do it.”
“We’ll be
off in a few minutes, Mom. We are just
finishing up.”
“That will
be fine, dear. Goodnight, Emily.”
“Goodnight,
Mrs. Throckmorton,” Emily wished her.
As his
mother was hanging up, Howie could hear Mike and his father in the background, busy
planning a fishing trip.
There was a
pause on the phone.
Emily got
up, again, walked back to the window and looked out. She could see Venus twinkling through a hole
in the clouds.
“Howie, maybe you need a star of your own for you to wish on. If you did, what would you wish for?” Or who would you wish for, she hoped?
Howie
closed his math book and put it neatly in his bookcase under “A” for
algebra. Then he dragged his phone cord
over to his bed. He took off his shoes
and placed them neatly under the bed before he lay backwards onto it. His mattress was soft and it sank under his
weight. The feather quilt wrapping
itself up and around him, as if he were in a cocoon. It covered part of his head and the phone,
causing his voice to become muffled, and it sounded to Emily on the other end
as if he had entered a dark and lonely place far way.
“I don’t
know,” came his muffled reply. He stared
up past the quilt and right through the ceiling. He did not need to go to the window to see
the stars. He knew them by heart. And he could see them clearly in his
mind. “If I were to wish on a star - or
a planet - as the case may be. I think I
would wish to be out there.”
“Out
where?” questioned Emily, puzzled. She
climbed back onto her own bed
“You know,
out there in space, exploring the stars and planets.
“I’d miss
you, Howie.” Emily was too shocked to
hide her feelings.
“Oh I hadn’t
thought of that.” Howie had not thought
of that! For some reason, he did not
like the idea of Emily being left behind.
“Wouldn’t
you like to come and explore space with me?” he asked. “The President wants a man to walk on the
moon before the end of the decade. Do
you know if you hit a baseball on the moon, it would travel for over a
mile? Think of the good that would do to
your batting average.”
“Think of
the harm it would do to my fielding percentage,” giggled Emily. “How fast would the ball travel?”
“I don’t
know, but nothing can travel faster than the speed of light.”
“That’s
good! Then no one will be in the dark.”
“They call
the distance that light travels in one year a light year. And light travels at about 186,000 miles per
second. It gets to us from the sun in
only 6 minutes.”
“That is
nice, Howie. Nobody wants old light.”
“Light
never dies, Emily. And it never
stops. It travels on and on,
forever. When it hits something, it
bounces right off, and goes in a different direction, still at the same
speed. That is why you can see Venus tonight;
the light is bouncing off it, and coming to us.
Did you know if we could travel at the speed of light, that time would
stand still?"
“I know a
lot of ladies who would be happy not to grow older. Who told you all this?”
“Albert
Einstein.”
“I did not
know you knew Albert,” Emily teased.
Howie
ignored her. He was still staring
through the ceiling, looking far off into space.
“The
closest star to us is Alpha Centuri. It
is 4.3 light years away. But we can’t
see it in
“Howie,
come back,” Emily begged. “That sounds
dangerous.”
“To get out
there, Em, first you have to escape earth’s gravity. You have to go so high and so fast that, when
you fall back, the earth isn’t there any more.
It has moved out of your orbit and you are left hanging in space. Wouldn’t you love to do that, Emily?"
“Howie,”
whispered Emily, “you know that I am afraid of heights.”
“Em, don’t
you know in space there is no place to fall?
You float. There is no height, no
weight, and no gravity.”
“And I know
a lot of ladies who would love to live where they didn’t weigh anything. But no, Howie, I wouldn’t want to live in
space. I want to stay on Earth, and have
a normal life with a home and a family with kids.”
The ceiling
closed back up, blocking the stars from Howie’s view, and he was back on
earth. He saw a mother, instead. He smiled as a sudden image of Emily holding
hands with a child flashed before his eyes.
It was a little girl and she looked a lot like Emily, except she had red
hair.
Emily went
on, “Well, you make your wish, and I’ll make mine. And we’ll see which one comes true.”
“What’s
your wish, Em?” Howie was curious. For some reason Emily’s wish was important to
him.
“It’s
getting late, Howie, and your mother wants to use the phone.” Emily replied,
ignoring his question. “I think I will
go to bed, now. Good night, Howie.”
“Good
night, Em.”
Howie got
up from his bed and put the phone in its cradle. Then he pulled it and the cord back into the
hall. “I’m off the phone, Mom,” he
yelled down the stairs.
He went
back into his room and over to the window.
He pulled aside the curtains and pressed his face against the
glass. The wind had, indeed, blown the
clouds away, and the moon was back in full view with Venus left behind it. It had risen further and now it was floating
far above the swaying trees. He stood
looking out at the stars for quite a while after Emily hung up. The image of Emily and her child kept coming
to mind, along with some half-formed, not understood desire.
Well, if
Emily could wish on a planet, then so could he.
But what
should he wish for? He could wish for world
peace. Or he could wish for prosperity
for all mankind. He could want Emily
would pass her math test, or for him to pitch a perfect game against
Cornville. There was need of a cure for
cancer, and freedom from world hunger.
There were myriad of good and beneficial wishes that could be made.
But there
was one wish. A special one that was so
appropriate, and so desperately needed at this time. Yes, he decided! He would ask for it!
He gathered
up his courage. He took a deep
breath. Then he crossed his fingers,
closed his eyes and wished, from the bottom of his heart - that he would not cause
seriously injury to anyone when he danced at his sister’s wedding.
In her own
room, Emily leaned over and set the phone on the floor beside her. Her parents would have to step over the cord
when they came upstairs to bed. Then she
lay in her bed looking out the window at the planet Venus, one last time before
she fell asleep. And as she looked, she
made her wish, one she could dream on.
Then she drifted off to sleep, dreaming that Howie would love her new blue dress - that is, until Snowball came scratching at the window.