StarsA Story by diamondlionessAaron's mother hates him, his sister is deathly sick, his father is dead, and the only person he has to confide in is the old man in the woods. Now there's a conversation.I sat close to Richard, the old man that passed me a cup of coffee. I took a sip and then put the mug down. I was in far too bad a mood to enjoy coffee, even if Richard had managed to slip me a little alcohol in my drink. I had never been so grateful. "So," Richard said, gently taking a seat on his bed as if every movement hurt. I, in turn, took a seat on the chair across. "What brings you here in the middle of a lovely Saturday, Aaron? Why are you not with those friends of yours - Brant and Joshua, I believe you called them?" I took another sip before saying, "They're jerks who have no respect for me and use me to get a pass from the teachers." Richard, an odd reaction, smiled. "Yes, boy, I've been telling you for ages to cut those friends loose. They don't deserve a friend like yourself." "Yeah, well, now I'm friendless," I spat harshly. "Not at all," Richard said calmly. "You have me, for one." Great, an old man for a friend; that's every eighteen-year-old's dream, thought Aaron. He didn't comment this to Richard, though. "What about your sister, should you not be spending all your time with her and not this old man?" Richard went on, leaning back on the bed, his lanky features cracking softly. "Doctor appointment," I informed him quietly. Richard did not push for more. He knew I hated talking about Camille's illness. It scared me to death that she was in this position. And of course, Ma found ways to blame the whole thing on me. As if it were my fault that she was on her deathbed. As if I had the option to trade my life for hers. Ma doesn't think so, but I'd trade my life for Camille's in an instant. "I couldn't take anymore of Ma harassing me about ... things," I admitted to the old man. "Such as?" he asked me. I couldn't tell him. He would hate me. I hate myself. It's why Ma hates me. It's so personal... "Aaron...the beginning is a good place to start," Richard told me, one of his frail arms grasping my wrist. So I started at the beginning. *Flashback* I was only seven years old at the time. And yet I never forgot a moment of this day. It was around dinnertime when Camille woke up from her nap. My father volunteered to go get her for dinner, and Mom knelt down beside me. "I have a big job for you," she smiled at me, her eyes shining. "What?" I asked her. "Can you put these forks on each table setting I have laid out?" she asked, handing me the forks and gesturing to the table. "Ok!" I placed the forks down carefully and returned to Mom when I was done. "Very good, Aaron!" she smiled. "You're such a big helper!" I grinned at her as my father returned with my two-year-old sister in his arms. "There we are!" he said joyfully as he placed Camille into her booster chair. Camille giggled and squealed when food was placed in front of her. We were finished with dinner when I remembered something. "Dad! My new action figure is coming in the mail today! It might be there now!" I informed him, expecting him to head right out the door to check the mailbox. "We can get it in the morning if it's there, it's dark out now," Dad reminded me. I got mad. I had been wait patiently for four days for it to arrive and now he couldn't even go out and check the mailbox? "Dad, please!" I said, giving him a pouty face. Mom wasn't paying us any attention as she washed the dishes. "Aaron, first thing tomorrow," Dad promised me, checking his watch. "It's time to settle in for bed, anyway." Now I was really mad. Maybe I wouldn't've been if they hadn't spoiled me rotten. But right then I was really mad. "I - WANT- MY - ACTION - FIGURE!" I yelled at the top of my lungs, causing mom to stop washing dishes and Camille to stop giggling. I proceeded to throw a big tantrum, knocking chairs down around the dinner table and throwing forks on the floor. Eventually Dad had had enough. "Alright!" he shouted, his hands rising in protest. "Just this once, I'll go grab it - but don't think your little meltdown has gone unnoticed, young man." I sat down on the floor, looking out the window as Dad put his coat on, silently refusing to budge until he came back. I sat in that one spot for days before my mother made me get up. As I was waiting, I heard a big honking noise coming from outside. When it got closer I could tell it was a garbage truck. On a Sunday night? This didn't really make sense to me. I was later told that a few teenagers that worked for the garbage company had been drinking and driving, even though at seven years old that didn't make much sense to me. However, all the sense I had ever been taught about garbage trucks was wiped out of me at that moment. The last I ever saw of my father before he got run over by the garbage truck was his unknowing face, peeking into the mailbox for my action figure. *End Flashback* I finished the tale with tears in my eyes, staring at Richard's facial expression, which had not changed once. "It was all my fault my father died," I said, the words tasting bitter in my mouth. "My mother has every right to blame me. I just need to learn how to take it better..." "No," Richard said softly. "I disagree. That was not your fault. Or those teenagers. Or your own father's." "Of course it's my fault!" I snapped. "It has to be someone's fault, and if it weren't for me Dad wouldn't have been out there that night." Richard sighed and stood up, limping to look out the window. "Aaron, did you know that the stars can tell time? No? Well, the stars cannot tell time like you or I. They can't tell you when noon is or when your favorite television program comes on at. But they can tell people when it's their time. Their time to leave the world behind and become a star. That's why there are so many stars in the sky. And right now, up in that sky, though you cannot see through the daylight, the star that is your father is looking down on you right now, watching over you. And he does not blame you because he knows the stars were calling his name, that it was fate who decided his time." I followed Richard's gaze out the window as he moved to sit down, huffing and puffing to his bed. I kept staring out the window as I asked, "How do you know all this?" I turned back around, surprised to see Richard tired and pale-looking. "Because, my dear boy, the stars are calling for me right now." My eyes widened. Richard's chest was moving up and down unevenly, although not panicked. Richard had a small, sad smile on his face. "You should know, Aaron, that I will be watching over you as a star. I wish well upon you..." Richard took one, final deep breath, and died. "No!" I yelled. "Richard...Richard...please...you're my only friend..." I threw my body across his, and sobbed. There had been something special between us. A bond unlike any other. I stayed that way until it grew dark out, and I knew I must venture home. As I walked out of Richard's tiny house inside the wood, I gazed up at the sky, now clearly filled with stars. Somehow, it seems like two stars, right above my head, shone a little bit brighter than all the others.
© 2019 diamondlionessAuthor's Note
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