My brother jostled me awake. He told me to come with him. I climbed out of my bed and followed him out of my room, up the stairs, and out the front door, always a corner behind him. The house was still. Everything sounded simultaneously muted and loud, like being under water.
My brother stood outside the front door with his back to me, the porch light overexposing him and blurring his edges. The effect was blinding. I squinted and put my hand up to shield me from the brightness as I approached him. He didn’t turn to face me. His attention was too far away.
“What do you think that is?” he asked, pointing at the single speck of light in the black sky. “You think that’s Venus? Mars?”
Still groggy, I followed his finger. “I think maybe Polaris, or something.” I wasn’t a very good astronomer.
“Yeah, must be the North Star,” he murmured, and then, more to himself, “second star to the right.”
I didn’t ask what we were doing on the front porch in the middle of the night. I was only upset at my own poor astronomy skills. I also didn’t ask him why he was dressed and wearing his backpack.
“Why didn’t you help me when Colt had the knife to me?” he asked.
“I guess I was scared.” I sat down on the steps of the porch. “I’m sorry,” I added.
My brother jumped down all the steps and turned to face me. “We could’ve taken him. Probably.”
“I said I was sorry.” I yawned.
He turned to look down the street and then back at me. “I’m leaving tonight. I just wanted to say goodbye. Sorry for waking you up.”
“Wait.” I grabbed for him, but only held air. “How come?”
“I don’t know.”
“This isn’t about the Colt thing, is it?” I asked.
“Maybe. People do this kind of stuff all the time. I’ve seen it in the movies.”
“What about our movie?”
“You can play both parts,” he said.
Too tired to even ask where he was going, I tried to reach for him again. “Wait”—I paused—”can I come?”
“No. You would be too scared.” He turned and walked down the street into the darkness. “I’ll keep in touch!” he called back from infinity.
I kept sitting on the porch for a long time, waiting to wake up. I half-expected to see my brother levitate into the night sky, an up-up-and-away. A silly way to end the sad scene.
I lay down on the hard cement and looked up at all the stars, which I could see clearly now since my eyes had adjusted. There you go, I thought There’s the Big Dipper, and that’s Polaris, Venus is to my right … see, you’re better at astronomy than you thought.
I’ve had this dream every night since my brother disappeared.