Star Struck

“Whatever inner worlds I choose to explore

Or how subtle and etheric my sensations may become

No matter how far over time and space I travel in order to heal-

I AM going nowhere and nothing is coming to me in this silent celebration of Unity”

Narayan

Chapter 1

Dog Star, Texas.

On the far end of a tree from where Enedelia Garza sat on her porch contemplating the nightmare of her life and her very present hunger, a street lamp cast an eerie glow on the dirt road. The street light was probably bright enough to be seen from the International Space station, first due to its brightness, and second, because it was probably the only street light in a hundred miles; not really, but Enedelia imagined it to be true. On a calm day, she wouldn’t have been able to see it for the tree. She would have known it was there because of the aura it gave the tree, but on this particular evening, she could see it as it cut through the clapping leaves stirred by the wind. It was almost a disco light effect, which was a nice counterpoint to the lightening in the distance, so distance the thunder was lost. The occasional thunderstorm was all the excitement that the poor town of Dog Star could afford her. Dog Star was so small a town that it was no longer found on any of the Texas maps, no matter how hard you looked.

Enedelia Garcia shook her head with disgust. “Even I could have come up with a better name than Dog Star,” she thought, as she spied the sign: Dog Star, population 441. The place wasn’t big enough to be considered a town, and though her family hadn’t been there a month, everyone in town knew them by name. For her, this meant that she couldn’t get into any mischief because it would get back to her mother before she could even commit the act. Worse, Dog Star was so small that she couldn’t find any real mischief to get into even if she had wanted to. The most exciting mischief would be cow tipping, and she wasn’t fond of injuring other animals. Her mom was renting a crappy, little trailer from an old farmer, and working double shifts at an emergency clinic about an hour’s drive away. This left Enedelia to fend for herself most the time, which meant entertaining herself, feeding herself, making herself do homework, which wasn’t hard because you’d be surprised what a person would do when they’re that bored. She did have an older brother but he was useless, and this night he had found new ways to prove just how useless he could be. Instead of stopping by the store on his way home to buy groceries with the money mother had left him, he and his only friend went and bought a new video game. As she sat, hungry and bored, they were in his bed room trying to save the universe, or some nonsense. She had knocked on his bedroom door, had pleaded for him to at the least go get a cheeseburger for her, but all she got for her efforts was a fist in the face, and a few kicks when she fell to the floor. The floor smelled like cigarette smoke and dog urine, thanks to the previous occupants. The brother cursed at her, emphasizing the control he had over his space, and then closed his door again.

She had spent a few moments in the bathroom nursing her wounds, wanting revenge, but her hunger pains proved more powerful than the bruises she had received, and so she had turned to practical matters.

There had been nothing in the fridge or cabinets that resembled a meal, or even a snack, unless you counted peppers and onions as a snack. There was a dried up tortilla, because someone, perhaps her useless, piece of crap, brother, hadn’t sealed the bag properly. Of course, even if it had still been eatable, it would be rather bland without butter or cheese, or a little salsa. She had not even been able to fill a single bowl with cereal, even after mixing the remains of several boxes. It did leave a nice colorful mix of powdered sugar, like a swirl of glitter, which she would have gladly eaten had she not discovered too late that the milk had soured. She had tossed the cereal out the window for the chickens to find in the morning, dumped the milk down the drain, and had sat down on the porch, wishing her mom would drive up with a pizza, or a subway sandwich, or ice cream, or pasta. She missed being able to walk across the street and get something at the mall.

Thinking of the mall added another pain to sing counterpoint to the hunger and bruises. Enedelia had one thought on her mind: escape. She wanted out of Dog Star. She wanted out of her life. After running through the consequences in her head of what might occur, she acted on her impulse to flee. She went inside, took her brother’s keys off the kitchen cabinet, slipped out into the darkness on the far side of the trailer, closed herself in her brother’s car, started it without hesitating, and drove off without permission. She didn’t even look back to see if he had come chasing out of the trailer on hearing his car starting. Instead, she focused on her goal of “anywhere but here.” Maybe she would run away to Dallas and trade his car for a Big Mac. That would teach him; and send mother a message about trusting him to buy food instead of games. Problem was, his car probably wouldn’t get her a Big Mac.

She was in that, “I’ll show you” mode, for maybe ten miles before being replaced with concern when the car started to sputter. Her first thought was fear, fear that she had broke it, and then fear she hadn’t gone far enough away. Then she realized her creep of a brother hadn’t bothered to put fuel in his car! She pounded the steering wheel. Even her get-away was cursed by her dreadful life.

The nearest place to find food, and gas, was a little convenient store slash burger stand slash gas station. It was the only thing near enough to their home to be considered civilized. Then again, with no gas, it was like an oasis in the middle of a dessert. Of course, her dessert was all farm land. Fields of grain on one side of the road, and fields of corn on the other all lit by the moon, sneaking a peak through the waning storm, and the occasional flash of lightening bugs skimming over the top of the plants. She saw the lightening from the storm in her rearview mirror, as if it were confirmation that her troubles were behind her, when in reality, she was still carrying them with her. The fire flies amused her, offering her a bit of a distraction as the lights on her brother’s car dimmed with the loss of power. It was almost magical, like watching floating constellations moving between the plants, living and dying in a single heart beat. The bug’s luminescence was just bright enough to stir an inkling of hope that there was something better out there. An armadillo scurrying across the road paused to look at the approaching head lights and then continued on its way, showing no concern whatsoever for the slowing car.

As it turned out, her brother had just enough gas for her to coast up to the fueling island and park as if she were going to intentionally fill up. She closed her eyes and muttered under her breath “useless.” She didn’t have money for gas. She only had a couple dollars, and that would just buy her a meal. The only thing in the ash tray was a penny coked up with some sticky residue that kept her from moving it. The car smelt like her brother after two days of no bathing. Her choice now was to put her three dollars and sixty two cents into her brother’s car so she could return home, or go and buy her dinner and walk home and let him deal with the empty gas tank. She also considered doing a drive off, continuing down the road to Dallas with stolen gas, but she didn’t trust the car to go the distance in the condition her brother kept it.

An eighteen wheeler was parked on the other side of the island. The truck driver was writing in his log as the gas clicked away. She considered hitching a ride out of here. She wondered if the driver would help her or use her. She was annoyed by the reality she might accept being used in order to change her life. Even if the driver was an ax murderer, she figured her crappy life could only improve. Then he spit tobacco and lifted his belly to scratch himself at his belt line and that flight plan closed forever. She got out of her brother’s car with the sun warped, cracked dashboard, and a gold pendant of Mother Mary hanging from the rearview mirror, and slammed the door. Mother Mary swung from her chain as Enedelia headed up to the convenient store.

Jenny Mae Moncrief was running the place and had just finished flipping a burger as she entered. She smiled at Enedelia. “Hey,” she said, saw the car, noted Enedelia was alone, and then smiled. “You know you’re not allowed to drive without a licensed driver with you.”

Enedelia shrugged. She had applied for a hardship license, but had failed the written test. They had given her a temp anyway, small towns did have some local authority to abuse, with the condition that a licensed adult be with her while she drove. “I couldn’t resist coming up here for one of your specials.”

“You and your brother been fighting again?” Jen said more than asked. She had a way of saying things that were never quite a question, nor a committed statement.

“No. Why would we have cause to fight?” Enedelia asked.

Jen shook her head, not pursuing the obvious signs of abuse. “Usual?”

“Please,” Enedelia said, letting some of her rage dissipate. She had no reason to be less than civil to Jenny. She wasn’t the cause of her troubles. It helped just being out of the house, being able to exercise a minimum level of control over her life. She felt a bit more relaxed and could afford to be civilized. And she didn’t have to pretend as if she had permission to be up here. Jenny wouldn’t rat her out, which was another reason why she shouldn’t be snappy with Jen. Jen seemed to understand that Enedelia’s life was chaos, and not from her own choosing. She had to continuously remind herself that she wasn’t the crazy one. Her brother was crazy. Her mom was paranoid. But she, Enedelia, a one time princes, at least to her father in a far away place, was sane.

Enedelia put her money on the counter, stacking the coins. She placed them all heads up, with the faces looking the same way, east, which meant the heads were upside down from her vantage point. Jen continued her cooking, throwing another hamburger patty down while wrapping up the other burger before placing it in a bag. Enedelia figured it was for the truck driver. Satisfied that the coins were as perfect as she could stack them, she sighed.

“Jen, would you be willing to extend me credit for the meal, and let me use this money to put some gas in the car,” Enedelia asked

Jen looked at her with a knowing smile. “Of course, dear. Is four dollars enough for gas?”

“Not really, but it will get me home,” Enedelia said. “And leave enough for my brother to get to school in the morning.”

“I could use a baby sitter this weekend, if you’re free,” Jen said.

“Alright,” Enedelia agreed. It wasn’t a great trade, but it did give her some control over her situation. And it wasn’t like she had anything else important to do.