Stardust by Theresa Hartenstein

Experts say stars create complex carbon-based molecules that propel into space. They float about and occasionally find their way to planets, where if the conditions are just right, they may spark life. The very idea of this led to a drastic change in the life of Sylvia Grennen. Her adoptive parents had long worried that a catastrophic episode would erupt within their daughter.

“She is definitely an odd little duckling,” her mother had commented to her husband more than once. Mr. Grennen had to agree. Even as a toddler they’d noticed something a bit “left of center” about their girl. It was nearly impossible to evoke a smile from her, much less a laugh. She avoided other children. She had multiple imaginary friends, often all at once. The varied noises from her playroom caused her parents to scamper down the hall to see if she was actually alone. Her parents had sought out specialists who examined the child. The cumulative diagnosis advised that Sylvia was “a bit eccentric, try not to worry too much.”

At age twelve Sylvia had just begun the seventh grade. She remained a loner, no sign of social growth. This particular morning she rushed into the breakfast nook looking unusually disheveled. She plopped down in a chair with all the eloquence of an elephant, banging the table and overturning a glass of juice.

      “Sylvia, dear! Do be careful,” her mother chided as she scurried over with a rag.    

       “What’s the rush today, Syl?”

      “Today I start Natural Science class. I’m sort of interested in that.”

      “Well, that’s great to hear!” Mrs. Grennen replied enthusiastically, “Oh Syl, Mrs. Liebowicz asked if you might want a dog walking job after school."

     “No. No dogs, thank you! No way.” Sylvia grimaced as she rose from the table.

      “Oh, I suppose not,” her mother replied; remembering how animals seemed to dislike the child. She’d suffered a number of attacks from neighborhood dogs, cats, and even the squirrels.

Sylvia was halfway out the door without so much as a goodbye. She did not seem to be catching on to the polite niceties her mother tried hard to instill in her.

      “Sylvia, did you eat any food at all?” Mrs. Grennen called after her as she surveyed the untouched food on the table.

      “Uh, yeah. Grapes. See you later.” Wham! The door slammed shut.

      “Enjoy your class!” her mother called out to an empty swirl of air.

Mrs. Grennen stood clutching the hem of her shirt for a moment. She worried because Sylvia never had an appetite. When she did eat, she often gagged. That was just one of a dozen idiosyncrasies. Syl mumbled to herself almost constantly and avoided daylight, rain or wind, complaining that those elements “hurt her eyes and skin”. Her golden eyes were extremely light sensitive. By age 10 she had grown into a tall, rakishly thin, nearly albino white-skinned oddity.

  Even worse, while her mother made sure her clothes were clean and that she bathed regularly, a sickening sweet, decaying stench relentlessly emanated off the child. Her hair was an odd shade of olive-blond, greasy and stringy even after a shampoo. A variety of medical specialists seemed at a loss on how to help her. Her parents strove to overlook these abnormalities and love her as normally as possible. They never spoke of it but secretly; they both found her to be slightly revolting.

      “Oh, well,” Mr. Grennen said just last night to his wife as they lay in bed trying to sleep, “She’ll eat when she’s hungry and she’ll outgrow the biological issues; it's just puberty. Our girl Syl has a certain charm about her. Her smile is genuine and it compliments the golden sparkle of her eyes.” Mr. Grennen was ever the optimist.

      “Yes, she does have a sparkle.” Mrs.Grennen smiled. Too bad she smells like a dead mouse, she thought to herself sadly.

      “Besides, you’re weirder than a $3 bill and I still keep you around!” he joked. Mrs. Grennen had fallen asleep with a smile on her worried face.

Sylvia arrived on time for the Natural Science class. She sat in the back row, as far from the windows as possible and allowed her stringy hair to shade her eyes. The new teacher, Mrs. Drasel, began speaking on the origins of life forms. And how stars are thought to be influential in spreading life throughout our galaxy and perhaps even many galaxies in many universes. Sylvia’s eyes grew wide upon hearing this.

     “Many galaxies in many universes?!” she mumbled to herself.

The possibilities were infinite? Many universes? Where does it all end? Is there NO end? These thoughts bounced inside her head like ping pong balls. Sylvia’s head began violently pounding inside her skull. She was confused, agitated and she felt nauseous. She wrapped her boney arms around her skeletal-like torso and began rocking back and forth, mumbling louder than usual. Many galaxies? Many universes? Sylvia continued to rock and moan. Mrs. Drasel noticed and paused to check the assigned seating chart for a name.

      “Sylvia Grennen?" the teacher called out to her. The other children giggled while one girl in front informed Mrs. Drasel, “yes she’s Sylvia, Mrs. Drasel.”  The girl rolled her eyes. The concerned teacher passed through the aisles of desks while many of the children continued snickering and staring at the odd girl in the back row. Mrs. Drasel cautiously approached Sylvia.

     “Sylvia, is something wrong? Do you need help, dear?”

Sylvia’s head remained down. She was now rocking so hard the chair was thumping on the floor. Mrs. Drasel backed up a few feet, frequently glancing towards the door, hoping a staff member might pass and she could call out for help if need be.  Suddenly, Sylvia sprang upright, turned to the wall and began banging her head upon it harder and harder. Anything to block out the pounding inside. “Many?” she continued to shriek. She turned to face the class as blood flowed down her face.

  Now there were lots of kids shrieking! Mrs. Drasel instructed the children to exit “fire drill style, please!” Another teacher had heard the ruckus and ran down to the Principal’s office. Paramedics were called and Sylvia was whisked away consequently, never to see the classroom again. Sadly, she would not be missed.

Her parents arrived at the hospital just as the ambulance pulled up at the ER entrance. The back doors burst open as the paramedics began unloading Sylvia, who was strapped to a stretcher. She was screaming an indecipherable word over and over. When the sunlight hit her eyes and the sun’s heat found her skin she screamed in agony. Her horrified mother stepped away, hands up to her mouth. Her father stood with a shocked expression as he noticed that Sylvia’s skin had sizzled and blistered before his eyes. It seemed her agitated state had heightened her physiological reactions. Blood trickled through her matted hair and was drying on her blistered face. The paramedics rushed her through the ER doors. Doctors and nurses converged around the screaming child. They listened to the account of events as relayed by a paramedic.

        “How did she get burned? When did that happen?” one nurse asked.  The two paramedics looked at each other. Finally one offered,

      “Those blisters appeared after we unloaded her from the ambulance.”

      “Alright, I’ll interview the parents. Maybe there’s been a drug reaction. Get her cleaned up, blood off her face. Be gentle around the blisters,” the doctor instructed her staff.

  Sylvia was thrashing about on the gurney. Two staffers restrained her so another could tend to her wounds. The beeping sounds and bright lights of the ER were torturous to the girl. The doctor approached Mr. and Mrs. Grennen in the waiting area, inquiring if the child was on any prescribed medications of which there were none.

     “Any idea why her skin blistered up?” she asked Mr. Grennen.

     “No idea.” He hugged his wife.

Just then a loud crash and multiple screams rippled down the hallway from the ER area. The doctor and parents ran quickly to inspect, arriving in time to see two nurses getting up off the floor, chairs overturned and Sylvia smashing through a second story window presumably to crumple onto the pavement below. Instead, when they reached the broken window and looked down, Sylvia was nowhere to be seen. Her parents headed down the stairs and out into the light. Off to the left, people were encircling something a short distance away in the parking lot.

  The crowd of human spectators became unusually subdued as they observed a gathering of smallish creatures. Non-human creatures. The people stood silent in shock because they couldn’t comprehend what they were looking at. The creatures were no more than three feet tall. They were human-like only in that they had two legs and two arms. They were not clothed. Their skin was pale green-blue with a slight scaling of darker blue down the spine. Their heads were enlarged and small fangs protruded from their mouths. They were oblivious to the humans. Their pale gold eyes were riveted on one being, hunched down in the center of their circle. The small ensemble began mumbling a gentle coo-like song as they rocked slightly upon their large reptilian feet. The sound was soothing even to the humans.

  Sylvia’s parents pushed through the people. Mr. Grennen tried to stop his wife but she broke loose and pushed through the creatures. She now understood. There was a familiarity in these creatures. The golden eyes, the acrid odor, the mumbling and rocking. These traits belonged to her daughter, too. She knelt down next to Sylvia, who was crouched in the center of the huddle. The mother hugged the hideous, shaking child-like form. Sylvia seemed to be transitioning. Her skin was darkening from ash white to green-blue. Mrs. Grennen called out for her husband. He approached slowly; he too was beginning to understand. The three members of their small family embraced, the cooing sounds, calmly washing over them. Mr. And Mrs. Grennen looked upon Sylvia’s upturned face one last time. Below the two golden eyes a warm, crooked, and fanged smile stretched broadly across their child’s face.

     Sylvia mumbled, “Thank you”. Her father smiled back and kissed her bluish forehead. Her mother whispered, “We will always love you.” She was their only child.

In an instant, the non-human creatures, including Sylvia, disappeared. A whooshing sound made the people look up just in time to see a bright light briefly glimmer in the blue sky. Then it exploded into stardust. The people turned and walked away. Within seconds the fragility of their human brains ensured this memory was wiped clean.

Sylvia’s parents drove home in silence. As they pulled into the driveway, neither mentioned the fact that they had no idea where they had just come from. Had there been errands accomplished? It felt as though it had been a busy morning, an odd feeling type of morning. They were used to each other and one wouldn’t want to upset the other. So they said nothing about well, whatever was forgotten. Most unusual!

      Mr. Grennen said, “How about a cup of tea and some of your good cookies? I’ll start the tea kettle.” He whistled his way down the hall to the kitchen. The unease of the forgotten morning was already lifting from his mind.

  Mrs. Grennen set her purse down on the hall table below the portrait of their beloved daughter Sylvia. She looked up at the girl with a crooked smile and golden eyes and blew a soft kiss. She surely did miss that darling girl and hadn’t been able to get Sylvia off her mind earlier. Suddenly she thought of a new term of endearment for the memory of Sylvia; it popped into her head. “Stardust”.

  For the Grennens, Sylvia’s disappearance would always be a mystery that would linger and hurt. But somehow thinking of Sylvia as Stardust, brought them both happiness and peace.