All the Major Constellations Read online

  “I don’t know.” Brian shrugged and dropped onto a stool. He groaned and clutched his head. He looked like shit.

  “Rough night?” their mother said to Brian.

  “Nah,” he said. “Are you sure you’re okay?” he asked Andrew. Andrew was taken aback. He could not recall a time that Brian had ever been concerned about him.

  “Why do you care?” he said, retreating up the stairs.

  • • •

  “Hey,” he said when he got Marcia on the phone. “How is she?”

  “The same,” Marcia said.

  “And you?”

  “Fine. Kind of tired.”

  “So, what’s the plan?”

  “Watch and wait.”

  “And the pneumonia?”

  “A little better,” Marcia said.

  “Oh, good. That’s good.” Andrew cleared his throat.

  “So, what have you been up to?” she asked.

  He decided to be honest. “Hanging out with a bunch of born-again Christians.”

  “So, you’re finally making a play for Laura Lettel?”

  Of course she knew. Andrew sighed.

  “You know, I don’t think she’s actually born-again,” Marcia said.

  “They’re extreme Christian something.”

  “What are they like?”

  “They’re really, like, I don’t know. Kinda nice. Very touchy-feely. There’s this big guy, John. He seems kind of older, kind of in charge. He was a little too eager.”

  “Too eager for what?”

  “Shit, I don’t know. To convert me, I guess.” Marcia listened while Andrew went on to describe the people he’d met at the prayer group. She laughed slightly when he told her about how affectionate they’d all been.

  “Most of them weren’t from our school. Except for Laura and this one other guy. I think he’s a junior. Matt something. He was okay.”

  “Matt Denver?”

  “I guess. You know him?”

  “Not really. I think he and Laura used to go out.”

  Andrew’s stomach backflipped to the floor. “Oh,” he said. Not possible, he thought immediately. He’d been following Laura around for three years. How could he have missed a boyfriend? On the other hand, Laura was often inaccessible. He only really saw her in the hallways and the occasional shared class. Maybe she and Matt were still going out?

  “Brian home yet?” Marcia asked, interrupting his thoughts.

  “Yes. Christ, he’s such an ass.”

  “Just let it go. Or try to. You’re almost out of there.”

  “I know. It was weird. This morning he was all worried about me or something.”

  “Why?”

  “I tripped in the woods and got a little bruised up,” he said. “Actually, it was more than that.” Andrew took a deep breath before he continued. It was a relief to be telling the truth about the other night. He hadn’t yet grappled with how awful it had all been. “Becky jumped in the river, and I almost lost her. Then I jumped in after her and almost drowned.”

  “Are you kidding me?”

  “Maybe I’m exaggerating. But I did go under for a few moments. I felt like I couldn’t get air. The water was so cold and—and, Marcia, remember what that guy said about moving through darkness?”

  “What? Um, no,” she said. She sounded distracted.

  “You know, the guy in the mini-coma. When he woke up, he kept telling everybody about how it was like ‘moving through darkness.’ I think I felt that way for a second. Do you think that Sara—”

  “I have to go.”

  “Oh, okay, well—”

  “Bye.”

  The line clicked off. Andrew listened to the dial tone for a few seconds before hanging up. Marcia had sounded kind of angry. Had something happened to Sara? He was further from them both than he’d ever felt in his life, and just when he needed them the most.

  15

  HE TOOK BECKY OUT for a long walk, avoiding the woods. She stuck close to his side. The more he thought about it, the more he felt that Marcia had ended their phone call because she’d been pissed at him, not because something new had happened to Sara. Perhaps she didn’t want to hear about him trying to pursue some girl while she, Marcia, tended to their sick friend. But maybe it wasn’t all about Laura. He didn’t like to admit it, even to himself, but last night, and in the woods with Laura, he’d felt something. It had been cathartic to cry about Sara with all those people around, offering him their support, looking at him with affection and sympathy in their eyes. No one had talked to him about Jesus or pushed anything like that. It had been weird, for sure, but not that weird. They were nice.

  The house was empty when he got back. The three of them had gone out somewhere, probably to buy Brian a big greasy breakfast to work off his hangover. There was a note on the kitchen counter that read Someone named Matt called. He said to meet them at the church if you can. He’s there already. The note was in his mother’s handwriting.

  Andrew felt funny about going to their church. It was a Saturday, however, so he didn’t think he’d have to endure a service and a bunch of prying adults. He called Laura’s house, but no one answered. Not even a machine picked up. He wondered why Matt, not Laura, was calling him. Was Laura trying to maneuver away from him? He grabbed his car keys and left.

  • • •

  Laura’s church wasn’t a white-steepled New England beauty like on all the picture postcards of Vermont. It looked like a small office building. It was plain, square, and beige, with ample parking. You wouldn’t even know it was a church if it weren’t for the small cross and the ALL ANSWERS HERE! placard. There were a few men doing lawn work. As soon as Andrew got out of his car, one of them waved to him and said, “They’re out back.”

  “Oh. Thanks,” Andrew said. Apparently he was expected. As he walked around the building, he heard singing. Choir practice? Andrew thought he had made it pretty clear the night before that he wasn’t going to sing. When he got to the back of the building, he saw John carrying boxes of produce.

  “Hey,” Andrew said.

  “Hey, man!” John said. “I’m glad you came.”

  “Me too.”

  John peered at him. “Are you okay?”

  “Tripped in the woods. I’m fine,” Andrew said. “Can I help you with those?”

  “I’ve got it. Come on down.” John gestured with his head toward a door that was propped open. Andrew followed him inside. Now he could hear the music more clearly. It was reggae. He and John were in a small dark hallway. Off to one side was a set of stairs from which the reggae, and the smell of food, was emerging.

  Andrew looked at John questioningly.

  “Soup kitchen,” John said.

  “Cool,” Andrew said.

  At the bottom of the stairs was a brightly lit industrial-looking kitchen. There were two stoves, two refrigerators, and one enormous sink. The walls were lined with hanging pots and pans, some of which were huge and battered with age. Large metal prep tables were everywhere. A paint-spattered boom box blasted Bob Marley. The kitchen was filled with teenagers, some of whom he recognized from the night before. It was a little chaotic, but everyone seemed to move with purpose and intent. It was like a colony of worker ants, Andrew thought. And where was their queen? He looked around for Laura. A quick scan confirmed that she wasn’t there.

  “Got the veggies,” John said, heaving the boxes onto a prep table. The table shuddered under the sudden weight.

  “You need a reimburse?” asked Carrie.

  “Nope. Just bad enough to be free,” John said.

  This was followed by a few cheers and a chorus of groans.

  “Free is free,” Matt said. He noticed Andrew and motioned him over.

  “Can someone say fruit flies?” said another girl. Andrew chuckled.

  “I’l
l get the vinegar,” John said.

  Matt was chopping onions at one of the tables. Andrew saw that he had a wide berth. The pile of onions was pretty impressive. So was the gigantic knife that Matt wielded.

  “Please tell me you can stand onions,” Matt said.

  “I can,” Andrew said. For whatever mysterious reason, Andrew’s eyes did not tear up around onions.

  “Yes!” Matt said. He pumped his knife in the air. “I’m not alone anymore.”

  “Take it easy there,” Andrew said.

  Andrew washed his hands and selected a knife, much more reasonably sized than the one Matt had. People smiled and said hello to him, danced around to the reggae, threw flour at one another. It was dorky, but the overall vibe was nice.

  “What happened to your face?” Matt asked quietly once Andrew joined him at the table.

  “Just some bullshit. Nothing. I mean, I tripped in the woods,” he said.

  “Okay. If you ever want to talk . . .”

  “About tripping?” Andrew said, but he was touched by the sympathy in Matt’s voice. He also noticed that Matt was chopping his onions very haphazardly.

  “Here, let me show you something,” Andrew said. “Chop the onion in half first. Now hold it like this. Put your knife right up against your fingers, almost against your nails. As you slice, just keep sliding your fingers back. Let the knife do the work. Make sense?”

  “I won’t cut myself?”

  “You won’t cut yourself. Slice with the knife, slide your fingers back, slice with the knife, slide your fingers back. It’s all one motion.”

  Matt did as he was instructed. “Seems slower,” he said.

  “At first,” Andrew said. “Once you get it, you’ll go really fast. See? Watch.” Andrew demonstrated his onion-cutting technique. Perfect half-moons shredded out beneath his hands.

  “Damn,” Matt said. “Check this out.”

  Andrew suppressed a pleased grin when a group of people gathered around to watch him.

  “How professional,” someone whispered in his ear. It was Carrie. He turned to say something to her. But just then John asked for her help on the other side of the room.

  “You want me to help you carry that stuff?” she said as she walked away. Andrew privately agreed with her. Carrie was tiny—why would John want her to help haul heavy boxes? But maybe John had a thing for her. Andrew wanted to figure out the social dynamics of the group. He continued cutting the onions as the rest of the crowd dispersed, intent on completing their own tasks.

  “Where did you learn that?” Matt asked.

  “I worked as a dishwasher at the co-op. The chef there was amazing. Like, this French-trained dude. His assistant was this local kid who was always high. He was nice enough, just stoned out of his gourd. One day Chef was really behind, so he taught me how to cut onions.”

  “Did the stoner do the dishes?”

  “Please.”

  “Did you turn him in?”

  “What? To my boss or something?”

  “Or the police,” Matt said solemnly.

  “No, man, no,” Andrew said with a chuckle.

  “You’re at Avella now, right?” Matt said.

  “How did you know?”

  “Someone must have told me,” Matt said vaguely.

  Someone, Andrew thought. Had they been talking about him? Discussing him during secret meetings? He heard raucous laughter, and when he looked up, he saw John carrying a sack of potatoes in one arm and Carrie in the other.

  “Cute,” Andrew said, motioning his knife toward Carrie. Matt seemed perturbed.

  “Yeah,” Matt said. “John’s always messing around.”

  “I mean Carrie. She’s cute.”

  “Oh, I know what you meant, sorry. You’re right.”

  Matt seemed uncomfortable. Maybe talking about cute girls in the basement of his church was against their doctrine, or Matt’s personal code of ethics. But Andrew didn’t want to drop it. He wanted to steer the conversation toward Laura.

  “Speaking of which, where’s Laura?”

  Matt dropped his knife and instinctively reached to catch it. Andrew grabbed his wrist just in time. The knife clattered to the floor. A few people looked up.

  “You guys all right?” John asked, appearing suddenly beside Andrew.

  “I’m fine,” said Andrew.

  “Me too,” Matt said. He walked away. “I just need to get some air. Back in a sec.”

  Andrew watched Matt as he slipped between the prep tables and headed up the stairs. So Matt was touchy about Laura. There must be something there.

  “I can help you finish,” John said. He picked up Matt’s knife and brought it to the sink. He came back a few moments later, and the two of them put their heads down and chopped, no small talk. Like Andrew, John knew how to work, and Andrew respected that. When they had finished chopping the onions, they piled them into a huge bowl and brought them over to the stove.

  “Are we making soup?” Andrew asked.

  “Some kind of stew. I never know. I just carry stuff and chop stuff,” John said.

  Andrew noticed that John’s eyes were watery and red. Even his face looked a bit puffy. “Shit, John, you should’ve let me finish the onions.”

  “I’m okay,” John said.

  Two youngish-looking girls and a guy came to take the onions over to the stove. They thanked Andrew, and one of the girls, who couldn’t have been more than thirteen, said, “God bless you,” to Andrew.

  “Thanks,” Andrew said.

  “You want a tour?” John asked.

  “I can keep chopping stuff,” Andrew said.

  “That part’s over. We’re not much use here now. I can show you the chapel,” he said.

  “I think I’d rather not. Or maybe later.” The God Bless You Girl had freaked Andrew out. She was so young, so very sure of herself, so content. It was eerie. “Where’s Laura?”

  “Hmm, let’s see. She wasn’t here? Probably with Chip,” John said.

  “Who?” Andrew said, but someone asked John for help and he was already walking away. John, Matt, Seth, now Chip . . . who were all these guys in Laura’s life? Andrew wiped down the table and threw away the onion skins. After that, he wasn’t sure what to do with himself. Matt still hadn’t surfaced, and the only people left were the pious-looking tweens at the stove. Everyone else had cleaned up and gone off on some other duties.

  “Now where did all those little ants go?” he muttered to himself.

  “Little what?” said a voice behind him.

  Andrew turned, embarrassed. The speaker was a girl about his age or older. She was very thin, rather pointy-looking, and she had short brown hair and small dark eyes. She was frowning at Andrew. She was dressed in jean shorts and a tank top.

  “Sorry, just talking to myself,” Andrew said.

  The girl stepped forward. Her face was very close to his, and the somewhat accusing expression in her eyes did not change. “So, you’re the new guy,” she said.

  “Um . . .” Andrew began.

  “Nice shorts,” Matt said. He walked toward them. Andrew was glad to see him again.

  “Shut up,” said the girl, but she grinned.

  “This is Karen,” Matt said.

  Andrew extended his hand. Karen looked at it for a moment before taking it. She very faintly snorted as she shook his hand. Her grip was firm.

  “I’m Andrew,” he said.

  “I know,” she said.

  “Be nice,” said Matt.

  “Whatever. I’ll be downstairs,” she said.

  “Karen’s moody,” Matt said, once Karen had walked away.

  “Did I do something to offend her?” Andrew asked.

  “I’m sure you didn’t. Let’s get the banquet hall ready.”

  Andrew followed Matt towar
d the stairs. He wondered where Karen was going, as there was apparently a level even farther down than this one. Was Laura down there too?

  16

  MATT BROUGHT ANDREW TO a bright room that had been made up as a kind of makeshift cafeteria. A few kids were setting up tables and chairs. Andrew didn’t recognize anyone. It was as though the church had an inexhaustible army of teenagers to do their bidding. These kids seemed more serious, more subdued than the reggae-dancing bunch downstairs. The mood of solemnity affected him, too. He and Matt grabbed some collapsible tables that were stacked against the wall and set them up around the room. The tables were heavy. Andrew was in better shape now that he’d been working at Avella, but Matt struggled. They worked hard.

  “When do people come for the food?” Andrew asked.

  “Five o’clock,” Matt said, out of breath.

  “It’s really nice that you guys do this.”

  “Thanks. It’s cool that you’re here,” Matt said.

  “Will we serve the food?”

  “If you want,” Matt said.

  When they were finished, they carried dishes up from the kitchen. Andrew felt good. He’d never done any volunteer work before. He crouched underneath one of the tables so he could plug in a hot plate for the soup. When he crawled back out, someone had extended their hand to help him up. He took the hand and came face-to-face with one of the solemn teenagers. He was pale with very dark slicked-down hair and light blue eyes. “Have you accepted Jesus?” the guy asked.

  “Not yet,” Andrew said. He’d planned an answer to this question in advance.

  “He’s waiting for you.”

  “All right,” Andrew said. He tried to pull his hand away, but the guy clasped it tightly. A girl came over and put her arm around Andrew’s shoulders. Her hair was pulled into a fierce ponytail, and her expression was comically grumpy. The two of them closed their eyes and murmured. Andrew was spooked, but he didn’t want to shake them off, either.

  “Come on, you two, back to work,” Matt said.

  “We’re almost finished,” said the guy.

  “Finished what?” Andrew said, and this time he did pull his hand away.

  The guy didn’t answer. The girl kept murmuring, her arm firmly around Andrew’s shoulders.