I hop up immediately. “Yes?”
“Come look at this.”
I walk over, the outline of him and the telescope only lightly illuminated by the moonlight. He grabs my arm once I’m near and pulls me in front of the telescope’s eyepiece.
“Close one eye, and look through here.”
I do as he instructs, blinking a few times to acclimate my eyesight. “Charlie,” I breathe. “There are so many stars.”
“Yes.” He sounds nearly giddy.
“This is…this is stunning. What am I looking at?”
“It’s our universe, Arthur. The Milky Way.”
I back away from the telescope, blinking again and looking out through the open window. The band of stars is visible to the naked eye, a hazy streak of light in the dark, but it’s nowhere near as defined as what I can see through Charlie’s telescope.
I never knew so many stars made up our sky.
Charlie eases in front of the telescope again, his voice soft. “The Romans called it theVia Galactica. The ‘road made of milk.’ They didn’t have a way to see it as we do now.”
“Did they know of the stars?”
“Oh, yes. They associated many constellations with their myths.”
“Such as Canis Major,” I realize, thinking of the dog-shaped constellation that comes out in the winter.
Charlie’s voice is excited in a way that doesn’t happen often. “Precisely. There are so very many constellations.”
“Do you have a favorite?”
He hums, backing away from the telescope. I join him in the center of the room, Charlie lying on the blanket I set out earlier. I lie down beside him such that our shoulders are pressed together.
Charlie takes my hand, guiding it upwards, aiming my pointer finger at the northern sky. He draws a shape with it, up and then down again. “There. The Sword of Leandros.”
I find the sword in the sky, the star at the bottom of it brightest. It seems to flicker, the shape ever so slightly obscured in the glass. Charlie returns our hands to the floor, fingers intertwined.
“What’s the myth?” I ask. “I haven’t heard it.”
Charlie lets out the softest of sighs. “It’s not a happy story.”
“No? Are any myths happy?”
He snorts at that. “Not many. But this… It’s quite the tragedy.”
“And yet it’s your favorite?”
His answer is quiet. “Yes.”
“Will you tell me?”
He nods, his head settling beside my own. “It’s said Leandros was the fiercest warrior there was. He bested every foe he encountered. He never failed. Never fell. One day, a deity decided she wanted Leandros for her own. She went to him, asking for him to join her.”
“I take it he wasn’t keen.”
Sadness is evident in Charlie’s tone. “No, he wasn’t. He was already in love.”
His fingers play with my own as he collects his words.
