Where Did It Go?
by Ruth Prudence
—
“Where did it go?” Raven asked.
They were lying on their back in an expanse of rolling hills, alone but for the two of them. Marcia and Raven were staring up at the night sky filled with bright, starry objects. Raven had been paying attention to a particular one.
“Where did it go?” she repeated, her voice devoid of stress or pleading, only curiosity.
“Where did what go?” Marcia replied, tentatively, her eyes also glued to the heavens up above her.
“I was watching a star, at least–what I think was a star–and all of a sudden its light disappeared.”
“Oh.”
“Yeah.”
Marcia considered this. “Was it one of the main ones? Anything essential to a constellation or anything?”
“How should I know,” Raven began, “I don’t know all the constellations. But the one I was looking was there, and now its not. What do you think happened?”
Marcia let the question linger in the air. She didn’t have a response–and didn’t how she would reply. She waited, but Raven seemed particularly persistent about an answer. Marcia tried changing tacts.
“Can you show me where you were looking? Point out where it is–er, where it was?” she quickly collected herself, aware of Raven’s wrath, but the younger one wasn’t having any of it.
“Just say you don’t know” exasperated Raven, not irate but the words pouring out of her with disdain. “Don’t act like you were interested in what it was, or where.” she stopped, aware she had crossed a line.
Marcia’s gaze moved back towards her own small field of sky. She stared at the multitude of dancing lights and shapes in front of her face and found herself crying. The two women continued to lay on the hill, looking up at the sky, in silence.