The Meeting Star--Star Story Number 4

Ally Stabler groaned, stretched, and turned slowly over to check the time. Light crept in around the

window shades, so obviously the day dawning was Saturday or Sunday. She thought carefully and

remembered that yesterday she had, indeed, clawed her way out of bed to go to the office where she worked, had, actually, worked the whole, long day.  Therefore, Saturday.

Glorious Saturday.

So, then, Saturday, the end of February…..a soccer game in the cold at some point for Kevin. Ally groaned again, smacked her hand over her eyes, and tried to remember the time she had seen on the schedule taped to the refrigerator door last night. Late morning, she remembered that. Well, at least later morning…..no need to rush out of bed. Lots of work to do here at home, of course, but the work wouldn’t leave anytime; it would be there in ten minutes….or fifteen….or more.

Ally dozed until she heard her oldest son, Revin, leave for his Saturday morning job, doing yard work for several elderly people around the neighborhood, contracted out, sort of unofficially, by a neighbor who owned a yard service company. The “unofficially” apparently helped with the paperwork and tax part; Ally just took the neighbor and Revin at their words, and hoped they knew enough to keep Revin, the neighbor, and herself out of trouble. After her husband had left when the two younger children both still wore diapers, Ally worked and scrimped to be able to stay in their house. So far she had managed. But, she knew that without Revin’s efforts, they would likely have had to move to an apartment or some lesser house—one with a smaller yard, a smaller house, though this one did not bring “large” to mind. He kept up the yard with  no help from Ally, and he did as much maintenance work on the house as he could figure how to do on his own. This day, perhaps, Revin’s day would be short. The cold curtailed what he could do, but he would check the houses on his schedule, ask if the owners needed something, maybe put salt out on frozen spots if wanted.

When Ally had started to take a second night job at a department store, Revin showed anger towards his mother the only time she could remember. “Who’ll take care of the kids?” he demanded.

“You can use time at home to study. I can work, and you can take care of them when you’re home from school.”

Revin’s eyes had filled with tears as he started to crumble in front of her. “No!” he cried. “No! I have my job at the pet store and on Saturday. I do fine in my classes. You HAVE to take care of Kevin and Devin! That’s why I have two jobs. If you start another job, why am I doing all this? Mom, you can’t!”

His despair so caught her off guard and so gripped her heart that she assured him she would not work outside her day job, keeping her evenings and weekends free for the younger children. “But,” she quietly asked her son, still gasping air as he tried to calm down in front of her, “who cares for you?”

His tear-filled eyes looked at his mother, going flat before her. “I’m fine, Mom. You and me, we look out for each other, and for the kids. Just don’t talk anymore about another job. In a little while I’ll be done with college, and then I’ll get a real job.”

Ally looked at her son and felt her heart shatter. No child should have to take the responsibilities that Revin carried. The two younger, though they missed having a father, did not really remember their dad. Revin, though, not only remembered him, but he could remember good times with him, his father taking him to the park, playing ball in the yard, being tossed in the air and caught by the man he called, "Daddy." When her husband had left, overcome, apparently, by the responsibility of his growing family, Revin, seeing his mother weep as he packed his bags, had taken his father’s large hand in both of his smaller ones, stared up into the eyes so much like his own, and begged his father to stay. “Please, Daddy, don’t go. I’ll be good. I’ll be really good.”

Almost, Ally thought, almost that caused the man grown, the man right then deserting his family, to change his mind. She never knew if he had a girlfriend somewhere else; he never said, and she did not think she could bear the knowing. But she did see resolve settle in after momentary doubt on his face. He reached down to kiss the young boy’s head, turned, and without even checking the two sleeping toddlers in the other room, left the house.

Despite his promises of monetary help, she never heard from him again, except to get papers in the mail, divorce papers. He gave her the house, whatever money there was in the bank…..against the advice of friends, she signed and returned the papers to the attorney’s office in the envelope provided.

And she and Revin became the team to keep the family above water, fed, clothed, the younger children in activities, Revin, late elementary school age when calamity struck, began mowing yards, doing yardwork, even that early. After that, he never seemed to not be working. Still, he finished school with good grades, enough to get a small scholarship, and started at the local university, part time, three classes a semester, the minimum he could take and keep his scholarship.  Ally never doubted he would finish, and finish well. The determination she saw on his face at night as he studied, fatigue aging him beyond his years. She never again suggested she would take on more of the load, but she watched her eldest son sadly, and she prayed that, somehow, his load could lighten in a way he would allow. No child should have to carry what her son did, but his childhood stopped years too soon.

She wouldn’t mind if her own life eased up a bit either, while making requests.

For now, a soccer game awaited. Ally rolled out of bed, pulled on her robe, went down the hall, and called to her youngest son, “Kevin, up, up! You need to get breakfast and get ready for your game!” Then, “Devin! Let’s go.” And footsteps ran barefoot along the floor, children happy upon wakening.

Ally smiled and headed for the kitchen.

Two hours later she sat in a folding chair, wrapped in a coat, a blanket over that, her thermos of coffee on the ground beside her. Grey clouds pressed the cold air down on the field, insulating the chill around them. The boys, shorts and shirts over sweat pants and sweat shirts, ran up and down the field, gloves on their hands, hats on their heads, puffing like miniature steam engines back and forth across the field. Talent showed by this age; you could tell, ah, this one could play this sport, that one could flick an ankle and move the ball away from all the other players easily. But, for the most part, boys just ran, kicked, slammed into each other, periodically someone accidently kicked the ball into the goal, and everyone on their team leapt up and down on the frozen earth, high-fiving, the claps muffled with the gloves, screaming like they had won the world cup.

Devin, Kevin’s sister, younger by a little over a year, had a smaller chair positioned by her mother, but also spent time running around with other children. The parents, always keeping that spare parent eye on them, pretty much let them play within sight. It must help to keep them warm, and who could blame little girls for not wanting to watch boys play soccer? Give them a few years……

When half time came, Ally grabbed up an indignant Devin, ran to the car and revved up the engine. She adored all her kids, but thawing out for five minutes truly was not too much to ask. Kevin would never miss her presence on the sideline. She quieted Devin’s protesting squawks by giving her a juice box, brought just for that purpose, then, as the air from the heater warmed, removed both their gloves and showed the girl how to rub her hands in front of the air now pouring into the car. Ally even felt her fingers start to thaw…..oh, the little things, like non-frostbitten fingers!

So, when the “tap-tap-tap” pecked at her window, Ally jumped straight up in the seat, almost, but not quite, hitting her head on the ceiling of the car. “What the…….?”

She turned and saw what (who?) could best be described as a little old lady beaming a smile at her through her window. Ally stared at her. The lady waved a mittened hand (of course, it was mittens) and continued to smile.

Oh, thought Ally. Oh. No. She. Does. Not. Want. Me. To. Lower. My. Window.

Gray, or maybe white, hair escaped from the knitted cap tworn by he old lady looking in at Ally and Devin. The smile didn’t waver. Ally sighed, and pushed the “down” button for just a second, stopping when the opening reached about two inches.

“Yes?” she asked.

“Hi!” chirped the old lady, “I’m Gloria Shepherd. I’m so sorry to bother you. But, are you Revin’s mother?”

Ally stared at the gray-haired apparition standing at her car window. Who the heck was this woman, and how did she know her son?

“I’m sorry,” she answered, “but do I know you?”

“Oh, I apologize,” laughed the lady. “I met Revin here at your other son’s soccer practice this week. He and I talked a bit—I don’t know if he told you? Anyway, Star and I,” and the old lady looked down for a second; when Ally glanced down as well, she saw the back half of what must be a dog, “met Revin and watched your other son—Kevin is it?—practice. We thought we’d come see part of his game. We got here a little late, and I don’t know how long I can stay. But, I wanted to introduce myself.  Like I said, I’m Gloria Shepherd.”

“Pleased to meet you,” stated Ally. Probably that was a lie, but though the hot air still poured over her and Devin, she hated letting any of it out that crack in the window.

“Well, then,” said Gloria Shepherd, and started to turn away.

Suddenly, from, um, somewhere, Ally heard, well, not really heard, but did hear, “You might let us in the car for a minute. Gloria’s really cold.”

Ally jerked her head around to look at Devin. “Did you say something?”

Devin, straw from the drink box in her cute little mouth, shook her head.

“Soon, please.”

In spite of herself, Ally looked up at the old lady and said, “Why don’t you get in the back for just a minute to warm up?”

“Oh, THANK you,” answered Gloria Shepherd. And without even asking, as if she knew the answer beforehand, she acted like letting a dog in a person’s car was standard procedure. The black and white dog lightly jumped into the car and delicately stepped over the seat to make room for the old lady.

Outside, the players started making their way back to the field. They noticed Kevin wrapped up with another couple of boys standing on the sideline. So, he would not start this half…. Ally sighed. Good. I can warm up for another few minutes.”

Except….who WAS this woman?

The dog panted softly from the back seat, surely not from the cold, and Gloria Shepherd prattled on about meeting Revin at practice this week. “I gave him my name and phone number, did he tell you? In case I could help maybe babysit sometime if you get in an emergency?”

Something in the back of Ally’s mind clicked. Ah, yes. She looked at Gloria Shepherd in the rearview mirror. “Ah, yes,” she said. “I remember he did say something. I think he put the paper with your number on it on the refrigerator. I’m sorry. We were all so tired that night. He told me about meeting you at dinner, but after dinner he just went straight to bed. He never does that, so I kind of worried he was sick.”

“Oh?” inquired Gloria, “is he okay?”

“Oh, yes,” said Ally. “He said he rested that night better than he had in a long time.” In spite of how weird this whole thing was, she smiled. “He had a history test that morning, and he did really well on it probably because he wasn’t too tired to think while he took it. He works too hard.”

“Oh, I’m so glad!” Gloria said. “He studied some for that test while he was watching Kevin practice the other day.”

“Yes,” Ally smiled sadly, “he has too many things to do, and he studies whenever he gets a chance.”

“Well,” said Gloria, “the offer stands. If you need help, if I can stay with the younger children sometime or you need a break or I can run an errand for you, please call me. Star and I would love to help.” She hesitated a minute, then said, “I can probably find some people to vouch for me, if you’d like. I don’t blame you for not trusting me right off.”

Ally turned around to look at the old lady, then looked over into the dog’s face. Soft, deep brown eyes returned her scrutiny. Revin had mentioned, she now remembered, meeting a nice dog. “Walter, “ he had said, “would like her.” As Walter was Revin’s cat, Ally didn’t see how that made sense, but she also had not had time or inclination to figure it out.

Now, looking at those endless eyes in that black face, a white stripe starting at her black nose covering her snout and ending with the star-shape blaze on her forehead, no doubt the source of her name, Ally understood why the dog stayed in her son’s memory.

“Kevin likes me, too.” Ally looked over at Gloria Shepherd, but realized the old woman had not spoken. She glanced at Devon, now pulling on her gloves, getting ready to go rejoin her friends playing on the sidelines.

Maybe the cold is getting to me, she thought.

“I appreciate the offer,” she told Gloria. “I’ll keep it in mind. There are times I need someone. We don’t have other family here…well, anyway, thanks.”

“Kevin likes me, too,” as if to reiterate the first time.

Ally got very still, and Gloria looked over at her dog. Star glanced at her, but returned her watching eyes back to Ally. The corners of Gloria’s mouth turned into a little smile, and she shook her head just a bit and sighed.

“Maybe Revin didn’t have a chance to explain to you that Star can sort of communicate with us?”

Ally twisted herself, her big coat and sweat clothes bungling her efforts, trying to see Gloria behind her. “Communicate?” she squeaked.

“I know. Dogs can’t do that, can’t talk, can’t do the ESP thing. It’s just that Star is, well, different.”

Ally stared at the old woman a minute, then yanked herself back around and exclaimed, “Oh, look! Kevin’s back out on the field! Come on, Devin, let’s go watch him.”

She turned off the car, and she and her daughter quickly exited, not even waiting for Gloria and Star. Gloria, a bit more slowly, climbed out of the back seat, picked up the handle of Star’s leash, and kissed a sound to bring Star lightly over the end of the seat to the cold ground.

“I don’t think, Little Girl,” she said, “that you should be so talkative.”

Star looked up at her, then started walking towards the soccer field. “Oh, no!” exclaimed Gloria, “it is WAY too cold to just stand there. We’re going home.”

Star stopped at the end of her leash. She didn’t pull; she never pulled. “Only untrained dogs pull on their leash,” she had one time commented to Gloria, the only time Star had ever commented on other dogs or behavior or even that she had any training. But now she just stood. Gloria knew this dog, this wonderful dog who must at least feel the bitter wind blowing harshly, cutting through Gloria’s clothes so that, no matter how many layers she had put on before leaving home (sitting and knitting in her soft chair had been her first idea this morning—another idea the dog had kibboshed), even if the dog’s double-coated fur protected her more than human clothing, even with all that (Gloria realized her thoughts confused themselves a bit there), she knew for sure that if Star wanted to go to the field, short of picking up the 40-pound dog and lugging her home, something Gloria could not physically do, they would go to the field.

“Oh, Star,” she sighed.  Then, in her mind, she heard, “the woman and the little girl,” and so she knew why. For some reason Star felt she must help Ally and Devin (at least she remembered their names), so she hunched closer inside herself and her winter clothes and, with this unusual dog, hiked to the field.

Hopefully it wouldn’t take long.

Star went and sat beside Devin’s chair and put her head in the girl’s lap. Gloria saw that the other girls had disappeared, either sitting on a parent’s lap or, no doubt, in some of those WARM cars whose engines she now heard running. Devin didn’t jump or appear surprised or startled by the black-and-white dog head suddenly resting on her. Instead, she smiled shyly and began to rub Star’s head, causing Star’s eyes to shut contentedly, a trait Gloria recognized as Star showing pleasure.

“Isn’t she cold?” asked Ally?

“You’d think so,” replied Gloria. “But she really likes children, and she wanted to come say goodbye to Devin before we go home.”

Ally looked back at the boys running the field. “Well, thankfully the game won’t be much longer; then we can ALL go home.”

From the chair where the girl and dog appeared to have slipped into their own world, the hood of Devin’s coat bobbed up and down. “Okay,” she said, “I will.”  After a pause, she continued, “I promise.”

Ally looked curiously at her daughter then, at a shout from the field, turned back to the game, a couple of the boys hugging themselves, actually acting like they felt the temperature. The rest of them jumped around like spring time.

Boys.

Devin glanced up at Gloria as her mother watched the game. “Would it really be okay if I stayed with you sometime?”

“Excuse me?” Gloria replied.

“Like if my mom has to be somewhere in the afternoon and Revin is busy working or studying? Maybe Kevin and I could stay at your house for awhile?” Devin looked down at Star, who gazed adoringly at the girl. “Star said so.”

Gloria smiled and shook her head. “Well, if Star said so—and, more important, if your mom thinks it’s okay.”

So, of course, immediately Devin grabbed her mother’s arm and started pulling. “Mom! Mom! Can I go stay with Star sometime when you’re busy in the afternoon?”

Ally glared at Gloria. Who was this woman, and why was she so interested in spending time with her children?  Gloria said, “It wasn’t my idea, really.”

Then, just as Ally started to explain personal space and “maybe not” to Gloria and, probably more difficult, to Devin, she heard, “It’ll be okay.”

Ally’s mouth smacked close.

She still looked straight at Gloria and knew the old woman had not spoken; for sure Ally’s young voice was not in her head.  In spite of everything she knew as possible, she looked down at the dog, who had lifted her head off of Devin’s lap and moved over to sit in front of Ally.

“It’ll be okay.”

Ally studied the dog carefully.  At this point she accepted that Gloria had not spoken, and she knew the voice in her head did not come from Devin. She would recognize her children’s voices anytime, anywhere. Dogs could not talk, of course, or project voices to a brain. But, she could not doubt the voice she heard inside her head.

Maybe she could work out a vacation somewhere warm soon….

Gloria watched the emotions play on the face of this overworked, overwhelmed mother. As Star glanced at her owner, Gloria turned to the little girl, for just a moment forgetting the cold. “Devn,” she said, “would you like to learn how to knit?”

“What’s that?” asked Devin.

Now Gloria’s mouth dropped. How could the child not know knitting? Ally ducked her head, embarrassed. The old lady probably thought for sure she neglected her children—but who had time to knit, well, except old ladies with dogs and no kids.

“Well,” Gloria said slowly, “it’s making things like this hat I’m wearing.” She pulled the hat off, and instantly regretted it, her ears immediately reacting to the bitter wind. As Devin inspected the pink hat, nice and thick made specifically for such cold weather, Gloria held back from snatching it from the little girl’s hands. Ally, seeing the game end (Kevin’s team lost by one goal, but the boys mainly seemed ready to get off the field), started packing up their gear.

“Give the hat back,” Ally said to her daughter. “Tell Ms. Shepherd ‘thanks’ for showing it to you.”

Slowly, Devin returned the hat to Gloria. “Thank you,” she said. Then, “Do you think you could show me how to make a hat?”

“Devin,” Ally sharply said.

“Oh, sure!” chirped Gloria, happy to replace her hat. “Let me help you put all this stuff in your car. Then Star and I need to get home. We live close to here. I knit all the time. I just sent off a jacket to my son who lives out of town, and I’m making him a hat now to match it. You can see if you like the way his looks or this one better. “

Gloria beamed down at the little girl, then lost her smile as she shivered with another wind gust.

As they folded chairs, put mugs in the bag brought for that purpose, Devin said, “When can I come?”

“Devin!” Ally sighed. Gloria looked at Ally. She saw Ally about to give a reason it could not happen soon, though Gloria enjoyed teaching knitting to others, when, suddenly, Ally stopped and looked, bemusedly, down at the dog.  Gloria smiled.

“We’ll work out a day,’ she said to Devin. “I gave your big brother my phone number. You call me next week when your mom says you can, and you can come over. I have to get you some yarn, but we’ll get you all set up.”

Devin, happy at the thought of lessons to come, ran off to the car, carrying her small chair, bouncing it on her leg as she ran. Gloria looked at Ally. “Do you mind,” she began, hesitated for a few seconds, then continued, “do you mind telling me what she said to you?”

Ally shook her head. “Dogs can’t talk.” Star looked from one of the women to the other, her tail wagging just a bit.

“Oh, of course not,’ twittered Gloria. “But, I’ll be really glad to teach your little girl to knit, let her make a scarf or a hat. Maybe she can come after school one day and give you and Revin some rest time or just some time to yourselves. If you don’t want me to, I understand. I’d hesitate letting my child go with someone I didn’t know.”

Ally stopped gathering, stopped folding, and looked at Gloria. “Ms. Shepherd,” she said.

“Well,” said Gloria, “actually, it’s Mrs. It’s Mrs. Shepherd. My husband died some years ago now.”

“Oh. Sorry. Anyway, Mrs. Shepherd, I’d be grateful for the help, frankly.  Some days it’s just hard to get home before the kids. Kevin has a friend down the street where he can go, but Devin…she kind of feels left out, even though she can stay at Kevin’s friend’s house. Anyway, I’ll call you, if I may.”

She picked up her load and started walking.

“Mrs. Shepherd, thank you.”

Gloria smiled, shivered as the wind hit her again, and said, “You’re welcome.’

She and Star turned away from the field and the game, from Ally and Devin, and from all the other parents and friends and children. Star picked up her pace now. Perhaps she understood Gloria would appreciate a warm, soft chair inside. Then Gloria heard, “Mrs. Shepherd?”

Gloria turned and saw Ally watching her. “Yes?”

Ally spoke softly. “’Let her come.’ That’s what the dog said. ‘Let her come.’ Do you know how she does that?"

Gloria smiled gently. “No,” she answered. “But I’m starting to wonder how often I’ve missed her messages to me. She’s always kind, and she’s always watching out for someone. In fact, that's kind of how we met, Star looking out for me. Star is right. Let her come, and Devin and I will have a good time.”

Ally nodded her head, surprised at feeling a bit of weight lifted from her. Perhaps at this frozen soccer game—and here came Kevin, racing by to the car. “Hey, Star!” as he reached down, kissed the dogs head (Star closed her eyes with pleasure) and ran to the car. “I’m freezing!” Perhaps here she had found a bit of help, relieving one less worry. 

Well, it wasn’t the lottery, but she’d take it.

She hefted her chair and bag and walked to the car to take her children home.

Gloria looked at Star. “Take me home now, please.” The thought floated through Gloria's mind, and she happily turned again with her dog and, not quite so cold as they had been, they made their way home. 

© Jana Mauney 2017