"Morning Bird"

by

Jeff Williams

The comet seemed to dive towards the horizon, its long tail curling towards the stars. In particular, Panda noticed the strange dust jets that fanned out on either side of the comet, features that had led the press and amateur astronomical societies to dub Comet Swann the "morning bird".

Satisfied on some level she barely understood, the twelve year old girl walked to the bathroom, poured herself a glass of water, and drank it slowly so as not to cause hiccups. Then, she climbed back into bed and fell into her deepest sleep of the night.

****

Comet Swann had originally arrived on the astronomical scene with very little fanfare. Many times the public had been fooled by predictions of greatness from these celestial visitors, and while Hale-Bopp had proved to be a real visual treat, Peter Swann had seen nothing in the magnitude of the object when he discovered it to make him think that it would be anything more than another eyeful for learned astronomers in mountain top castles.

During routine observations for a paper he was writing, however, Swann, along with other astronomers throughout the world, began noticing the buildup in the intensity of the comet's luminescence. Scarcely ten months after Comet Swann barely rated mention in even the most diehard star gazer magazines, the public had become transfixed by the early morning visage in the starry skies.

Comet Swann, the morning bird, was a rare beauty indeed, but its discoverer cared little about the appearance. "Well, yes," Swann said to the reporters who had gathered in the Institute of Science and Cosmology conference room, "from a purely aesthetic perspective, the comet is, I suppose, interesting to look at. But, I'm not particularly concerned about appearances beyond the clues the external evidence provides about these dirty snowballs."

"With that in mind, Dr. Swann," one of the reporters had said, "how do you explain the odd appearance of the comet? What do the unusual dust jets you've talked about tell you?"

"Well, Amy, since this isn't something we've really seen before," Dr. Swann muttered, "I'd prefer not to speculate just yet." He went on to tell them about the data being collected from satellite and ground observation, information that might after careful study reveal the answers to those and various other questions.

Interrupted from his memory of that morning by the ringing of the telephone on his desk, Peter Swann pulled himself out of the reverie.

"Swann," he said as he noticed the time, 4:45AM. "Yeah," he said, "I've got the preliminary figures in front of me." There was a pause as Swann listened to the phone and slowly moved his pencil over the calculations. He nodded his head. "Me too. Up all night scratching equations out by hand." Peter rubbed his fingers over his unshaven face, trying to force his eyes to stay open. "I know. This is something that's got to be done right the first time." Swann listened and then rolled his eyes in disgust. Leaning back in his chair, slowly tapping one finger on the leather covering, Swann stated, "Well, you just tell Dale that we'll go over his head to Dr. Blevins to get the extra time." Swann looked at the picture on his desk of his daughter Panda. "Yeah . . .yeah. . .I know. Geoff . . ." Swann leaned forward in the chair and cradled his chin in a cupped hand. "Shhhh! Listen . . . Listen to me! Jeez!!! I'm back on tonight, so I can come in early if you can. But we need more RAM to run those holoimages than the departmental computers have." Reaching into his desk, he pulled out a Post-It pad and pencil. "Okay, go. 5:45PM, the Lowell Room. 15 minutes. Well, tell Dale the meeting's then." Dr. Swann laughed out loud before slapping a hand over his mouth and listening for anyone he may have woken up. "Well, I'm sure he feels the same about the two of us as well!" Swann looked towards the dark blue curtains that covered his windows. "Uh-huh. Uh-huh. Yeah, that's a good idea. Just take it home with you and then bring it back before our little conference. Yeah, the nightwatchman has a key." Dr. Swann smiled. "Okay Geoff. Okay. Sure thing. Bye!"

Swann hung up the phone and then stood, stretching his back and arms like a cat. Sleep was becoming a necessity, so the doctor reluctant pulled the chain on his desk lamp, sending the room into darkness. Leaving his study, Swann slowly made his way down the hallway, taking care not to trip on anything that might make a noise. Then, with relatively little effort, he entered his room and changed into his night shirt, carefully crawling in to bed with his sleeping wife, Karen. He kissed her lightly though her sleeping body did not notice, and then he rapidly fell into the world of dreams.

****

Panda Swann's morning ritual was the same as it had been for several years. First, she rose from bed very promptly at 6AM and headed straight for the bathroom, showering and brushing her teeth. Then, at 6:20AM, she put on a bathrobe and went downstairs to the kitchen where Panda and her mother would eat breakfast silently as each read the morning paper. Finally, at 7AM, Panda would go back to her room and don the items that gave her her nickname.

Panda Swann, whose real name was Dana, had for three years worn variations of the same outfit seven days a week. There was a black and white checked dress, with the black always seeming more prevalent. This was followed with black hose and black shoes. Around her eyes was a light but noticeable application of black eye shadow and mascara, giving her an unobtrusive but noticeable facial mask.

People had questioned her over the years about the choice of attire, and Panda's mother Karen had been questioned as well as to why she would allow her daughter to dress this way. The question was never implicitly answered by either party.

"Is Daddy going to even say hello," Panda said as she came down the stairs, schoolbag in hand.

"Not today, darling," Karen replied, sadly shaking her head. "He was up late last night, I think." Panda rolled her eyes in disgust.

"He works at night, and sleeps during the day," she said. "I feel like I'm Dracula's daughter." She moved towards Karen, using her fingers to mimic the fangs of a vampire. "I'm going to drink your blood, Mom. Blah, blah!" Panda laughed a girlish laugh, something that greatly pleased Karen who swooped in and pulled Panda into her arms.

"You going to be a good girl in school today?" Karen asked, stroking her daughter's hair.

"Not if someone doesn't start giving me good reasons why math is important," Panda said, picking up her bookbag and heading towards the door. "I gotta catch the bus."

"Be careful, my love," Karen said, and she smiled as her daughter headed out the door and towards the corner of the street. I hope you try to join in with the other kids, she thought silently before she returned to her morning homemaking.

Outside in the chilly late October air, Panda slowly walked towards the corner where she would wait with the other neighborhood kids for the school bus. The short walk was uneventful save for the few moments when she passed Sleepy Hollow. Actually two undeveloped lots containing trees and a thick undergrowth of bushes, shrubs, vines, and other ground plants, there was nothing about it outwardly that looked out of the ordinary. However, none of the children in the neighborhood, particularly Panda, went into the place.

"It gives me the creeps," Panda said the first time George Kelvin suggested they play in those woods. "It's so dark. There's ghosts and stuff in there." Forcing a smile to her face to hide some of the fear, she spoke again in a lighter voice. "Uh-huh, ghosts, bet your life!" After one of the kids heard the old Washington Irving story, the woods quickly became known as Sleepy Hollow.

Quickening her pace, Panda rushed passed the trees, jets of steam blowing from her mouth at an increased rate. Finally, clear of the strange place, she came to the bus stop where she waited along with Charlie, Kim Welch, Srikhant Gandi, Patty Mulligan, and George Kelvin.

"Do your science homework?" Charlie asked. Panda's black rimmed eyes grew wide and afraid.

"Oh damn," she muttered just as the bus pulled up and the kids climbed aboard. As it drove off, Panda looked towards her house and the bedroom where her science book still lay, unopened since the previous day at school.

****

Dr. Peter Swann lay in his bed, wrapped in a cocoon of comforters and sheets. The clock by the bed strobed 8:58 in dim red numbers. The door to the room cracked slightly as an orange tabby cat slinked slowly into the room. At first, she explored the dark places in the closet, sending exploring paws into shoe boxes and suspicious piles of dirty sheets, finding them (to her great chagrin) void of any real threat. Then, moving her head slowly in a circle, slitting her eyes and closing her lids until the irises were almost completely covered, she focused on the shape laying beneath the sheets.

Something was moving, something dangerous, something that needed to be pounced upon and destroyed, and with a great leap she landed on the bed and began attempting to destroy the thing by attacking the moving objects under the sheets.

Peter Swann, his feet being clawed and bitten, woke slightly. "Getowd, gohn," he mumbled, shaking his feet and pushing until the cat lept from the covers. "Egoboyoyoyo," he further stated before slipping back into the twilight between waking and sleeping.

Nevershouldhavegottenthat... Who knows the pads, paws, and claws might never should have gotten that little ball of string. String? Cosmic strings, who came up with that...stuff'n'feathers... What does Dale think of cosmic strings? Hey Geoff...string up those files and unplug Dale's stuff from the computer is needed to run the new programs need the files to work and be precise because I need to get up and use the bathroom...ought to get up now is the winter of our discontent. May this be it? Need to see how the programs work.

Is my math any good should I be scared. Meow meow bite me, toes hurt. Toes touching the grass beneath bare feet. Miracles, maybe time to begin hoping for miracles should maybe have gone into life sciences Karen would have been much happier...Panda bear, Dana bear...that thing up there. Go back to sleep Peter go back to sleep Peter go back to sleep Peter... To dream that nightmare again. Better to hope you're dreaming go to sleep Peter go to sleep Peter go to sleep Peter go to sleep. Peter, go to sleep. Peter. Go to...

****

"Dana," Mrs. Shankelford said as the kids in her classroom were just heading out for their mid-afternoon recess, "I need to speak to you for a minute." Panda stopped, and as she walked towards her teacher's desk, the girl tried to think of any excuse that would help to minimize the extent of the verbal lashing she was about to receive.

"Yes ma'am," Panda said, riveting her blacklined eyes on the teacher. Mrs. Shankelford looked upon her pupil, a mixture of anger and pity in equal parts being projected. Then, she looked down at her grade book.

"You didn't do two homework assignments last week," Mrs. Shankelford softly stated, "you haven't done two of them this week." Closing the book, she leaned back in her chair and clasped her hands behind the brown and silver bun on the back of her head. "Dana, is there something you want to tell me?"

Panda looked around the classroom, trying to avoid her teacher's eyes. "Mrs. Shankelford, can you call me Panda, please?"

"Panda's live in China," the teacher said, smiling knowingly at the attempt to deflect the questions. "Dana, nothing has been wrong with your grades since the day you started this class. And then last term you started drifting away in class, and now this term you're not doing the work. I don't want to see you fail." Mrs. Shankelford leaned forward in the chair so as to be closer to Panda's face. "Do I need to call your parents?"

Panda's expression dropped. "If you want to," she mumbled. "Won't help though. Daddy's working nights. Can I go outside now?"

"Panda," she sighed, "you can go far. Really far." She reached for a pen and began scribbling notes on a sheet of paper. "Don't fight me." Looking up, the teacher smiled slightly. "Go on. You've got about seventeen minutes. See if you can borrow a book from someone who's in the later class."

"I'll try," Panda replied before moving as fast as she could towards the exit. The teacher sighed, sketching out the words she knew would have to be spoken to Karen Swann. Girl, I wish I knew what I could do to make you see...

****

In the schoolyard, preteens frolicked and played, frolicked and hurled the rocks and stones of childhood at one another. Basketballs dropped through well worn nets. A group of boys chased a beaten up Frisbee one of them had proudly smuggled in to the school (a Frisbee 'beaning' the year before having caused a general ban on them at Lowell Kepler Elementary School). Still another group chased each other around the monkey bars and an obstacle course of old powerline spools. In the darker corners, still another group carried on shady dealings, and several boys emerged blackeyed but silent from within the crowd.

In a corner of the field bordering a (rapidly browning) honeysuckle covered chainlink fence, Panda sat in the warmth of the sun and looked over the field. On the other side of the schoolyard, she could just make out Charlie Yarnell in his bright yellow jacket, and George Kelvin was nearby. It looked like the both of them were throwing a ball back and forth, and occasionally one of them would have to run towards the road before the ball rolled in to the streets and, therefore, thoroughly out of bounds as far as the school was concerned.

Turning her attention to the sky, Panda allowed her face to be covered by the bright morning sun, looking closely enough to where it was to get a just tolerable burst of intensity without actually causing any damage to her black-rimmed eyes. She relished it, drinking the light in to her soul, letting it bathe her mind, or at least as much of her mind as the light could penetrate. Closing her eyes for an instant, she breathed a deep breath, and then opened them again.

When she looked back down, Charlie and George were on the ground fighting, and kids all abuzz with excitement were closing in upon them.

"Charlie," Panda whispered, looking thoroughly confused, and then the confusion began to turn to fear. Her heart racing, she, slowly at first, began moving towards the crowd. But as the crowd grew larger, and as the cries from them grew stronger (a sure sign that the fight was intensifying), Panda began running as fast as she could.

"Hit 'em hard, George," one of the kids near the melee yelled. "He's getting the shit kicked out of him," a girlish voiced squealed with delight. Clouds of dust kicked up from the thin, sandy school yard soil flew into the air.

"Hey Panda bear," one of the dark boys mumbled, running a finger under his runny nose and moving his other hand near his crotch. "Your boyfriend's getting wasted by that chump George!"

"Oh shut up you crackhead," she screamed as she pushed her way into the crowd. Even before she was halfway through the human shield that surrounded the fight, however, the crowd suddenly began to thin. Standing amidst the increasing space, a few stray tears trying desperately not to fall from concerned eyes, Panda watched as Mr. Kline and Mr. Ipswich, the vice principal, both dragged the two beaten and bloodied kids into the school building. Two other teachers were walking around with notepads.

"Every one of you is getting a demerit," Mrs. Jackson said loudly, writing down the names of everyone who had been watching the fight. Panda just stood there, her eyes fixed upon the disturbed spot where the majority of the fighting had taken place.

"Mrs. Jackson," Panda muttered, her voice barely above a whisper.

"Dana," she said, writing the name down on the pad, "I'm surprised at you, watching two idiots fighting like that."

"Mrs. Jackson," she said again, her voice made slightly stronger by stirring anger, "they're my friends. When you..." Panda paused to hold back more tears. "When you go to the office with the names, will you tell them I said hello." Looking surprised, the teacher's angry expression softened slightly.

"I'll do that," she said, staring at Panda for a second before shaking her off and moving on to collect more names. Alarmed at her feelings and jumbled thoughts, and somewhat ashamed of them as well, Panda looked down at the ground and tried to recompose herself. When she looked up again, one of the dark boys of the schoolyard made an obscene gesture towards her, and spurred on by her own anger, Panda suppressed her sadness and ran back in to the school, flipping the finger at the dark boy as she did.

"Hey, Panda," the boy yelled, "Yer dad's a big geek! So what if he found some fucking comet!"

****

On the bus ride home that afternoon, Panda stared fitfully out of the window at the passing houses, the sun illuminating her features, making the white checks in her dress appear all the brighter.

Just after the fight and before the start of English class, Kim Welch walked up to Panda.

"Panda," Kim said in a soft whisper, "Charlie was fighting over you." Panda gasped and then looked around to make sure no one was listening to them.

"What? Me?" Anger and embarrassment began renewing their flood through Panda's mind. "Why was he fighting over me?"

The school bus moved over several potholes, sending several book bags into the isles. Panda reached down and grabbed the black canvass bag that carried her school things and placed it back on the seat next to her. She looked towards the back of the bus where Kim Welch sat talking with Patty Mulligan

"George bet Charlie that he wouldn't go in to Sleepy Hollow," Panda remembered Kim saying back at school. "Charlie said he wouldn't go in there for a million dollars. Well, then George stood right up in Charlie's face like this," she said, moving as close to Panda as she could. "George said," Kim looked to make sure no one else had come close enough to hear, "'I bet if Panda was in the woods you'd go in.' And that's when Charlie socked George in the stomach."

Lost in thought, Panda very nearly missed her stop, and she was the last one off, exiting behind Kim Welch.

"I'm sorry about what happened today," Kim said when she saw that Panda was behind her. "George and Charlie are gonna get it when they get home I bet."

Panda started to speak, but just then her mother pulled up in a light blue minivan. "Hey Panda," Karen said after rolling down the window. "Come with me to the grocery store, okay?" Panda sighed as she started towards the passenger side.

"Okay Mom," she said. "Bye Kim!" Buckling her seatbelt, Panda looked at her mother and forced a smile. She knew that the grocery trip had been her dad's doing. Dad always wanted everyone out of the house, if he could, before he got up and got ready to head to work.

"How was your day darlin'," Karen asked as they turned the corner onto Blue Jay Avenue. Panda smirked. If only you knew, Panda thought, turning to look out the window.

****

"Surf's Up, uh-hummm, uh-hummmm, uh-hummmm/before a tidal wave," sang Brian Wilson on Geoff Wilkins' CD player.

"Peter," Geoff said, "if you keep playing the same songs, my Beach Boys CDs going to have a hole burned into it."

"I heard the words/wonderful things/a children's song."

"I mean, 'Surf's Up' and ''Til I Die' are great," Geoff continued, "but can't we listen to something else?" Peter, his crisply starched white shirt gleaming in the strobing light from the ceiling unit, stared morosely at stacks of data sitting on his thoroughly cluttered desk.

"Why couldn't Dr. Blevins see," Peter finally spoke as strains of "Heroes and Villains" began playing over the speakers.

"At least it isn't that damn cork on the ocean again," Geoff mumbled in the direction of the CD player.

"Pay attention, you philistine," Peter muttered, though his slight smile revealed that he'd appreciated Geoff's remarks. "Without the extra computer time from the Physics Department, we'll have to work this up the old fashioned way."

"Blevins doesn't get it if it isn't given to him sufficiently high-tech," Geoff replied. "Why the heck does Dale fight these turf wars?" Geoff stood up, stuffing his reading glasses into the pocket of his plaid shirt. "So what if Dr. Bumpers needs to finish his grant proposal? I don't think his funding or lack thereof carries the same implications." Peter's face nearly turned white at the comment, but he held a hand up to silence his partner.

"We went over everything," Peter sighed, grabbing a paper cup filled with cola and lifting it to his lips, "everything from the wobble those jets are causing down to the extra effect on the power bill the holoimages creation would have triggered."

"I mean, what the hell did Blevins mean by 'its not a priority concern'," Geoff continued acidly, pacing the office, spinning an extra large globe in the corner of the room as he did. Without looking, he ran directly into a mural of the solar system. "It may never be a priority concern, or it may be one in 2500 years, or. . . or. . ." There was a long and uncomfortable pause.

"We don't know that," Peter finally spoke. "Look, Geoff, we've got to get over this and just get down to brass tacks." Picking up a stack of notes and figures, Peter stood up and handed them to Geoff, who looked resigned at the package. "The holoimaging system is more glitzy and more accurate, but it ain't gonna happen." Looking down at his desk, his eyes caught a quick glimpse of an old family portrait, noticing in particular the intense eyes of his then infant daughter. "God she's getting so old," Peter whispered before shaking the thought from his head and returning to the matters at hand.

"So, what do we do now," Geoff finally asked.

"We've got some good packages at home," he said. "We've got some good packages here. They worked just fine for this sort of thing before that idiot at Cal Tech decided to create Holoimages 1.0." Peter forced a smile onto his face. "We'll do the best we can and show what we have to Blevins and maybe a few other people. Maybe," Peter said hopefully, "all of this will be a moot point and we won't have to meet with the good doctor, or Dale for that matter, about this again."

"Should one of us go back out to the Slat," Geoff asked, looking at Peter for something resembling strength. "We've got good stuff streaming in from everywhere, but one of us needs to get some fresh images and recordings direct from the horse's mouth." Peter inwardly cringed at the suggestion. While the aptly named Seriously Large Array (or Slat) was a remarkable facility, one that happened to have a favorable working agreement with the astronomers at the Institute, it was also in Widow's View, Montana, farther away than Peter had promised Karen he would go during that year.

"All right," Peter said. "We'll submit your name," he said, pulling a partially melted piece of chopped ice from his cup of cola. "Shit," he mumbled to himself. "You know they probably won't release the time though unless its me that goes."

"Pete," Geoff muttered, running a hand through his reddish-gray hair, "if we don't find anything really wrong, if both of us can start sleeping peacefully again, then it will all be worth it. Heck, maybe if something is screwy up there someone else will find out and we'll be off the hook." He looked his colleague straight in the eye. "Can we take the chance though?"

Peter nodded. Looking towards the globe on the far side of the room, he tossed the ice vaguely in the direction of the it without really taking aim. The ice smashed directly onto South America, sending a tiny pool of melted ice over the surface of the globe. Peter blinked. "Damn my blasted luck," he mumbled somewhat angrily. Walking out of the office, Geoff turned off the lights, leaving the office illuminated only by Peter's small desk lamp.

"What do we do the rest of the night," Geoff said, motioning towards a large hallway clock whose hands rested at 3:32AM. "Fydor's Russian Eatery is open all night on Fridays." Peter silently shook his head.

"I'm going out to Campfield, I think," Peter said. "I'll say this for our visitor. It's bright enough to cut through all that light pollution from the new subdivision out there."

"When are they going to sell that old observatory again?" Geoff asked. Peter shrugged his shoulders, and the two of them reached one of the hallways for the exit. "Well, I'll see you later. You're off again tomorrow, right?"

"Yeah," Peter said. "Fat lot of good it'll do me. I've got a wife who's not going to be happy when I tell her about Montana, I've got hours of work to begin with my nifty little PC, and I've got a nagging constant reminder floating over me." Geoff looked at his colleague with sympathy before turning and walking towards the computer lab.

"I'm gonna go bug the shit out of Dale," Geoff muttered. "Maybe I can irritate him into giving us the time." Peter smiled but did not laugh and then headed out of the building.

In the parking lot, free of the harsh lights of the Institute, Peter Swann felt somewhat freer beneath the stars. Even the comet named for him provided some degree of comfort even as it reminded him of pressing issues that had to be dealt with soon.

"You really are beautiful in your own way, aren't you," he said to the comet before slowly making his way passed the guard house and towards the parking lot.

****

The morning sun slowly crept above the horizon, illuminating the thin layer of icy frost that had fallen during the night. In his room, Peter Swann cocooned himself in burgundy blankets, dreaming of the wings of the light in the sky, falling further into a deep though troubled sleep.

Down the hall in her room, Panda, who's alarm had been switched off well before it's set time of 7:30AM, basked in the bright morning light streaming in through her open curtains. Wide awake and unsure about more things than she cared to admit, she slipped a hand under her mattress and pulled out a white and pink diary covered in a red rose print. Looking at her door to make sure it was still closed, she opened the book and flipped to blank pages in the middle. Slowly at first, using a somewhat blunt pencil, she began to scribble thoughts and drawings upon the paper.

'Dear Diary,' she wrote in one section, 'the sun is coming in and I'm sleepy. I don't understand yesterday, and I don't know why I can't always sleep. Why can't I be like a normal kid?' Lifting the pencil to her lips and chewing on the eraser end, she furrowed her brow and studied the writing as well as the tiny sheep she drew in the margins. Lowering the eraser, she removed the final line and started writing again. 'Why do I have to be like a normal kid? Doesn't anyone have an abnormally happy house?' Satisfied with the words, Panda turned to a fresh page and began sketching out Comet Swann, adding extra touches such as real wings and a smiley man-on-the-moon face on the coma.

In the kitchen, Karen Swann, dressed in a blue bathrobe and white pajamas, sat at the mahogany table, slowly sipping on half-and-half coffee. Her eyes, still bleary from restless sleep, stared at nothing in particular on the countertop. Slowly, she let them drift back to a half-crumpled article her sister Jeana had clipped from a Colorado magazine.

'While most simply marvel at the beauty of these celestial displays,' the article said, 'one group in Boulder, the Sons and Daughters of the Divinity of Jehovah, have predicted that the comet heralds the coming of the end of the world as we know it. The Sons and Daughters in fact plan to 'commune' on October 31 with the spirits behind the appearance of the comet. Local residents, fearing a repeat of the mass suicide of the so-called Heaven's Gate cult during the appearance of Comet Hale-Bopp, have begun asking local authorities to prevent the meeting.'

Jeana had a peculiar sense of humor, one that often unsettled her sister Karen more often than it made her laugh. In the margins of the article, next to a picture of cult members wearing white robes and carrying golden (though plastic) swords, Jeana had written the following: "This week only at the church bazaar, Comet Swann 'Special' Pudding and vodka 'coma' chaser! How does it feel to be married to a Mass murderer?" Next to the inscription was a big smiley face.

Karen crumpled up the article and tossed it towards the waste basket, following her original instinct. The embellishments were in extremely poor taste, and Karen understood that her sister knew this already. However, something like a tiny speck of rock rubbed and irritated her mind. Sometimes, at vulnerable moments, Karen wondering if there wasn't just the smallest grain of truth to what the cults believed.

The sound of light footsteps upstairs lifted Karen from her thoughts, and she took in a deep and mournful breath before moving over to the stove to start breakfast. Briefly, she wondered if Peter would get out of bed and actually join his wife and daughter for eggs and pancakes, but then she thought better of it.

Asleep for maybe an hour and a half at most, she thought. He won't get up. Maybe we'll see him again some day, maybe Panda will understand that her daddy thinks a comet is more important than his family.

****

Panda walked uneasily down the road towards the Presbyterian church playground. Here, around 9AM, her friends normally gathered to plan their day, but now something unpleasant would be hanging in the air, and she wondered if either Charlie or George would even be there.

Slowly, she walked down the small hill into the playground, stopping to sit on an old swing set with rusty chains and fading black seats. Lifting her feet slightly, she began to drift back and forth.

"You can do it," Panda remembered her dad saying to her when she was a child of four. "You wanna go higher, Dana?" he had asked with tremendous enthusiasm, and Panda had squealed with delight as she flew faster and higher with each push from her dad.

As she thought about the moments with her father, moments she was struggling harder and harder each day to remember, she began swinging more and more furiously. Kicking in the air, she rose farther and farther, eventually pushing herself almost even horizontally with the bar of the swing set.

"Fly, fly, fly away," she sang softly as the wind whipped by her. "Fly, fly, Montana way."

"Hey Panda," Kim Welch called from the top of the hill, snapping Panda from her song. She blinked, trying to shake off the mindfog caused by her remembrances.

"Hey Kim," she replied, slowing herself considerably until the swing almost came to a complete stop.

"George and Charlie are gonna be here soon," Kim said, walking down next to the swing set. "I sure thought their parents were going to kill them, but I heard that George got off with washing dishes for the next month. Don't know what Charlie's parents did." Panda nodded, her subtle black mask slowly becoming more noticeable as the sun rose higher into the sky, her thoughts clouded by images of Charlie being dragged into the school the previous day by the principal.

"Kim," Panda said, her eyes focused on nothing in particular, "what's going to happen today? With Charlie and George I mean." Kim shrugged her shoulders and kicked a toe into the slowly browning grass.

"George said they talked in the office yesterday," Kim mumbled. "He said they were cool."

"I don't know about that," Panda muttered just as George came over the hill and into the church yard. He was followed almost directly after by Charlie. Quickly, Kim ran up to Panda, giggling slightly on the way.

"Charlie likes you," Panda whispered in Panda's ear, and a soft red blush began to move its way across Panda's face. Both Panda and Kim began to smiling and giggling.

"Quit talking about Brothers Diamond," George yelled, referring to a young male singing group that many teens had started listening to.

"Hey," Kim snapped, though her expression was more playful than angry. "Those guys are way cool!"

"Yeah yeah yeah," George replied.

Charlie, when he reached the bottom of the hill, smiled at Panda though he quickly turned his eyes to the group. "Hi," Charlie said to everyone though Panda felt like the word was meant entirely for her.

"Are you ready Charlie?" George asked. Panda and Kim both looked confused while Charlie looked utterly resigned.

"Ready for what," Panda said towards Charlie, her eyes burning small holes into his head. Charlie laughed a quiet, child-like laugh.

"I'm gonna go for a walk in the woods," Charlie mumbled.

"A dare's a dare," George said, pride dancing across his face. "Charlie's gonna show us there ain't nothing in there to be scared over."

****

The four of them stood on the sidewalk by the edge of Sleepy Hollow. Even in the mid autumn days with the thinning and browning of the vegetation, the woods still seemed dark and foreboding. Charlie, a stop watch clutched in his right hand, looked into the darkness and felt a shiver go up his spine.

"Yeah," he said a touch too enthusiastically, "I'm gonna show everyone there's no ghosts in there."

"Charlie," Panda said, walking up next to him, "George is a big pig," she stated loudly enough for him to hear. "No one's going to think you're a scaredy cat if you don't go in there." Charlie looked towards Panda and smiled, before turning his head as a slight blush washed across his face.

"You don't have to go," Kim added. "I don't care."

"Charlie," George said as he slid up to him. "You gonna let a couple of...girls...keep you from going in?" Panda inwardly reeled at the words from George. Something was going on, and she didn't like it one bit. Why's everyone changing? Why's George acting so stupid? Why's Charlie acting so stupid?

"It's just a bunch of trees," Charlie mumbled. He moved forward into the woods, and Panda started to reach a hand out to him before stopping self-consciously.

"You gotta stay in an hour!" George yelled, and Charlie looked back, holding the stopwatch up for everyone to see.

"I just clicked it," Charlie said. He froze just in front of the first bush, took a deep breath, and vanished from the morning sun into the darkness of Sleepy Hollow. Panda worked hard to keep from crying, turning to look angrily at George.

"Jerk," she said. George just smiled widely.

"Panda and Charlie sitting in a tree," he sang as he walked towards the fence around Buck Vermeil's house. "I'm waiting here. Betcha he doesn't make it."

"Panda's right," Kim yelled across the street. "You are a big jerk!" George just laughed and looked down at his watch. She turned to look at Panda. "I think George likes you," she whispered. Panda rolled her eyes.

"Why is everything changing," she said, turning with worried eyes towards the woods.

****

Peter Swann woke slightly from his sleep, again disturbed slightly by the inquisitive cat.

Never should have told Karen...too soon. Forgone conclusion, but... Physics. Kepler and Newton. Oppenheimer... How many megatons would that... Too much to take in sometimes wonder why I went in to this line Geoff thinks he should have been a shoe salesman trying to get me to buy aluminum siding for the house of cards this whole world is built upon the turtle sliding through space...punch a hole through if this was flat...

Karen's not much longer for this marriage...cold fingers wrapping around my hand...the morning light too much to withstand... Too much light...ruins the measurements. Can't see anything out at Campfield races sing this song, do-dah. Hanging up there mocking this rocking horse people with looking glass ties... Drifting, like wood on the lake, ripples washing everywhere...Do I want to know...Do I want to know...Do I want to know...Do I want...

****

Panda sat on the fence by Sleepy Hollow, her eyes locked onto the tangle of trees and shrubs. Life seemed to thrive on the edge of the woods. Squirrels frolicked and birds played in the little mud puddles left by the rains of the previous week. However, Panda couldn't shake the feeling that none of these seemingly innocent creatures ever seemed to go beyond the sunlight and into the shadows.

Letting herself fall to the ground, Panda lifted her knees to her chest (though she was careful that her dress hid anything impolite from the world) and wrapped her arms around them. Leaning forward until her eyes were almost hidden beneath her elbows, Panda's eyes riveted upon the small break in the foliage where Charlie had gone in.

There was darkness there.

The darkness, she thought, is coming to gobble everyone up. The darkness she could clearly see was dancing like one of those Asian girls she'd seen one late night on television when she couldn't sleep because outside it was so pitch black. Sitting by the fence, terrified of watching, but too terrified and too worried about Charlie to move, her eyes widened as she clearly saw the trees and the darkness behind them moving out to take her. It had to be her imagination, she knew. It had to be those strange little poems she'd begun writing. It had to be those dark boys at school getting to her. It had to be that something about her mom and dad that she could never quite put in to words. "Oh god, oh god, oh god, oh god...," Panda whispered as she began to rock back and forth just as a tendril of the blackness reached out to touch her cheek.

"Panda," Kim Welch said, coming up from behind, but Panda's eyes riveted on the darkness. "Panda," Kim said with more force, and Panda's began to blink. Slowly, she lifted her head from her knees and turned to look back at her friend.

"Hello," Panda whispered as she smiled a weak smile. Kim, her eyes showing sympathy though very little understanding, sat down next to her friend.

"Hour's almost up," Kim said to Panda. "He oughtta be out soon."

"BOO!!!!"

The loud sound from behind sent both girls jumping, and George laughed long and hard at the expense of the two of them.

"What's wrong with you, creep," Kim said, her face scrunched into an expression of utter contempt. George leaped over the fence and sat down next to them, a peanut butter sandwich in both hands.

"I got hungry," he said just after taking a full bite of the sandwich.

"Ewww, talking with your mouth full," Kim muttered with disgust, and Panda started laughing, which in turn started Kim laughing, which in turn started George laughing causing crumbs of bread and chunks of peanut butter to come flying out.

Suddenly, though, there was rustling in the woods, a sound like something slowly trudging its way over the ground. In her mind, Panda could clearly see the dark monster watching them, seeing how small they all were, deciding who to take first. She badly wanted to run, but again something inside told her to wait. Finally, there was no turning back as whatever it was slowly emerged from the shadows of Sleepy Hollow.

Trembling, covered in twigs and leaves, his skin white as a pale fog, Charlie emerged, dragging one muddy foot after the other towards the friends on the fence that he barely seemed to recognize.

"What's the matter Charlie," George teased, his twelve year old face suddenly seeming more cruel than young, "squirrel bite your nuts?" He snickered slightly, but his levity quickly evaporated as Charlie showed no change in expression, just the same stare towards nothing in particular.

"Charlie," Panda said, "what's wr...wrong." Her panda mask had clearly begun to accumulate tiny tears. "Charlie, say something, please."

"C-c-cold," Charlie finally mumbled just as a passing cloud blocked part of the sun.

"Cold," George said, "you want another coat or somethin'?" Both girls shushed George, and Kim took the extra step of hitting him on the chest.

"Cold," Panda said as she turned to look at Charlie again. Kim stared for a moment at Panda, trying to decide why she sounded as if she knew exactly what Charlie meant. "Hey, Charlie," she whispered, "how was it cold?"

Charlie moved his lips as if to speak, but his own internal horror seemed to stop the words. "Dark," he said, and Panda closed her eyes as the word seemed to penetrate her soul. "I got lost," Charlie muttered almost incoherently.

"So what," George said confidently, pretending that he wasn't just a little bit scared by the way his friend was behaving. Putting her hand on his shoulder, Charlie jumped visibly but looked for the first time as if he actually knew who he was talking to. Walking slowly, Panda guided Charlie towards the fence and helped lean him against one of the posts.

In the yard behind them, Buck Vermeil tried unsuccessfully to start his ancient lawnmower.

"I couldn't see how I came in," Charlie said, "and...and...and I tried to get out. I called you three, but you didn't hear me." His eyes focused on Panda as if they were trying to hold on to anything he knew to be solid and real. "Its quiet in there...and real dark. Too dark."

"Dark," Panda repeated knowingly, watching his eyes carefully.

"Chucky," George said, genuine concern finally overtaking him. "Hey, wh-what happened in there?" Charlie turned his head and stared straight into George's eyes.

"I don't know," Charlie said with strange tones of dred after a long pause. "I wanna go home."

"We'll go," Panda and Kim both said, and the two of them each took one of Charlie's arms and started with him down the street. George started to say something, but his voice was drowned out by the sound of Buck Vermeil finally applying enough choke to the mower to get it to start.

As George ran to catch up with the rest of the group, his foot smashed something, the stopwatch Charlie had carried into the darkness of Sleepy Hollow.

****

It was 9:00PM when Panda finally came home. After taking Charlie to his house, she, Kim, and George had stayed and talked with Charlie, trying to help both him and themselves understand what had gone on in Sleepy Hollow. No solid answers, however, were discovered, though George's attitude towards his friend and sometime rival had changed markedly since the morning. Anything Charlie needed, George was the first to offer to get it for him.

The Yarnells never inquired as to what had gone on while the kids were there. Bet his mommy's put him over the fire now we're gone, Panda thought as she hurriedly walked up the path to the front door of her home.

Charlie had asked his mother if all of them could stay for supper, and Mrs. Yarnell hemmed and hawed but finally relented. Though the Yarnells were only five houses down, when the evening was over, Panda asked for and received an escort home by Mr. Yarnell because the darkness of night had thoroughly overtaken the neighborhood.

As she waved goodnight to Charlie's father, Panda felt pangs of anxiety that she tried to quiet. Charlie's got a good papa, she thought wistfully just before her eyes caught the image of Comet Swann sinking below the horizon. The Morning Bird would be back in a few hours, she mused. It always came back.

"Mom," Panda called as she closed the door behind her. Not immediately hearing an answer, she hung her black and white jacket on the doorhook and moved towards the kitchen. Karen, still in her robe and pajamas, sat at the kitchen table drinking coffee. Seeing Panda, she moved a bottle of Bailey's behind the cereal on the lazy Susan.

"Hey love!" Karen smiled though her eyes to Panda looked infinitely sad. Still, she held out her arms and eagerly embraced her daughter. "How was dinner?"

"They fixed asparagus, yuck!" Panda contorted her face in a most disgusting manner.

"Careful," Karen teased with a slightly broken voice, "or you'll get it stuck that way." Panda giggled, trying as hard as she could to ignore what looked like tear tracks on her mother's face.

"Has...has Daddy gone to work yet," Panda asked cautiously, and the smile on Karen's face fell slightly but perceptibly.

"Daddy doesn't work tonight," Karen replied. "But, the office called and said his trip to Montana has been approved. He's gone to Wal-Mart to get some things he's going to need up there." Panda looked visibly disappointed by the news though inside she new all along that it was coming.

"Is he going to that weird place where they live in log cabins next to the telescope?" Karen nodded.

"His flight leaves Monday," Karen said softly, again pulling Panda close to her. "Panda...there's something I need to..." Karen's eyes suddenly became very distant and her bottom lip seemed to quiver slightly. Panda looked at her mother, her attention riveting on the words. "We need to have a... Well, things are sort of...changing..."

"Mom," Panda whispered, leaning back and trying to look directly into Karen's eyes. For a second, Karen seemed on the verge of breaking down, but just as quickly she pulled herself back and seemed to shake off whatever it was that was on her mind.

"We'll talk later," Karen said, forcing a big smile onto her face. "Why don't you go get ready for bed, huh?" Dissatisfied with the answer, but not sure she wanted to face what Karen had to say, Panda pulled away and started towards the stairs.

"I love you," she whispered towards her mother before turning to run full steam up the stairs to her bedroom.

****

Peter Swann managed to return to the house at a good time. Panda was in her room, apparently asleep, and Karen, while awake, did not stay to talk with him. This allowed the astronomer a chance to work in his study for a few hours without threat of disturbance. Switching on the desk lamp and the computer, he waited for the programs to load. Once the computer was ready, Peter clicked on an icon labeled Mini-Imager and began entering numbers into various fields.

He worked at a furious pace, copying some numbers off of the backs of envelopes and crumpled sheets of paper. At times, he even resorted to scrawling out equations by hand when he reached certain fields for which he had no current figures.

He worked in this manner for an hour before sitting back in the chair, much of his body just out of the reach of the dim light from the desk lamp, and examined what he had entered into the system. I don't like this, he thought. I need the full imager. He looked over the other scraps of paper he had near him and saw if there were any additional numbers that needed to be entered or worked out. Nodding his head, Peter thought, not much more I can do now without the stuff from Slat. Standing up, he leaned forward and clicked on the save icon and then the shut down switch, and finally turned out the light.

"I think I need to go relax," he whispered, and then he resolved to do just that.

****

The sun had been been down quite awhile when Panda Swann awoke from a shallow sleep. Swinging her legs over the mattress, her feet touched down lightly on the floor. She looked at the clock and saw that it was 2:30AM, a time she didn't particularly wish to see. However, a series of bad dreams (or at least dreams filled with an overwhelming sense of gloom) had kept her from completely succumbing to the evening.

Panda was disturbed by two things. First, the bright night light in her room was suddenly flickering--the tell-tale sign of a light bulb about to wear out. She remembered asking her Mom to buy new bulbs the last time the light burned out, but she couldn't remember if any bulbs had been purchased. Her heart was filled with dread at the thought of having to make her way through the house in the dark.

However, another thing disturbed her in a much deeper way. A car door slammed outside, and Panda new instantly who's car it was. Quietly, Panda tiptoed towards the window and pulled back the light green curtains, allowing the orange glow of the streetlight to pour in. From her second floor vantage point, Panda could clearly see her father, bedecked in a white shirt, putting a fishing rod into the trunk of the car. Pushing down hard, that door also slammed.

Panda never understood why her father liked to go fishing at night. As far as she could tell, he never caught anything. He never seemed to have any reason.

The driver's side door closed, and Panda clearly heard the ignition of the engine. This was followed by bright, white lights slowly receding as the car backed up onto the street. Daddy, Panda thought, why are you going? Why are you leaving us? Letting the curtains fall closed, Panda stood in the thin, flickering glow of the nightlight, her face scrunching up in expressions of sadness, then rage, then pure concern. Momentarily, she froze in place as her head turned to look at the dresser, at the bed, at the door, back at the closet, back at the door . . . Daddy always goes away, she thought to herself. Daddy's going to tell me why.

Moving quickly, Panda looked in her closet and found a pair of rarely worn blue jeans and a black and white sweater and pulled them over her pajamas, and then she grabbed her shoes and headed down the stairs. Turning on the kitchen light, Panda quickly but quietly began rummaging through the utility closet, grabbing a flashlight from its hook in the back of the storage area. Panda walked to the front door, but just as her small hand touched the door knob, she felt herself freeze.

Outside, it was cold and dark, and Panda's mind suddenly began clinging to this knowledge. Opening the door, she thought, would bring her face to face with the night, and that possibility filled her with a sense of terror that nearly drove her to tears. Clearly, she could see tendrils of darkness already working their way like fluid fingers around the door frame. Panda tried to close her eyes, but the terror wouldn't let her move an inch. The fingers continued groping through the air towards her, and she could feel them just beginning to graze her skin.

Something inside of her, though, reached out of desperation for the image of Charlie coming back from Sleepy Hollow. He had faced the darkness too, had gone somewhere that had scared him more than he seemed able to express, but he had still come back basically unharmed. It's just the dark, Panda, she thought desperately, just the night time. Nothing to fear...

But it WAS the nothing she feared, and in the act of pushing it out of her mind, Panda forced open the door and tore into the darkness. When she opened her eyes, the little girl found that while it was dark, the streetlights made things somewhat tolerable. Suddenly, she remembered the flashlight in her hands and quickly depressed her thumb on the switch.

Slowly calming down, Panda cleared her mind and tried to focus on why she had so rashly gone outside in the first place. Oh yeah, she thought. Daddy. She knew that when her dad went night fishing, he always went to Shoemaker Lake. In the daytime, it was a mere ten minute walk, and a fun one at that since it passed by Patty Mulligan's house and her big trampoline in the back yard. But the trampoline and all the fun of the split second when she would hang in the air, free of every fear and worry and doubt, was of no use to her now.

Slowly, Panda began walking down the street, determined to find her father. The walk was slow at first, and every shadow, every perceived movement, every sound no matter how small had to be touched by the beam of her flashlight and shown to be of no threat. In this manner, it was nearly ten minutes before she reached the boundary of Sleepy Hollow.

Again, Panda froze upon seeing the trees, their branches and leaves now seeming in the darkness to be the outlines of giants with towering, outstretched arms preparing to grab the little girl quivering in the street. Stop being such a scaredy-cat, Panda chided herself, and she tried to speak those words, hoping to force the ghosts of the night back into their coffins, but the words were little more than raspy breaths. Feeling herself starting to be touched by the darkness around her again, Panda took off and ran as fast as she could, her legs moving her body in giant strides despite the her actual size. Almost sick from lack of breath, her lungs burning her insides, Panda finally slowed just after the last corner of the woods had been passed. Doubling over, feeling like she could throw up, Panda fell onto the road, exhausted.

As the tears began to well up, Panda looked above the treeline and caught sight of Orion. Her dad used to point out the constellations to her when she was younger--Orion the hunter, Ursa Major, Ursa Minor, Cassiopeia . . . She even once remembered him telling her about the Southern Cross, something that she could only see if she lived in a whole other part of the world.

She had been nine when she had last seen him. This wasn't strictly true. There had been occasional dinners, some chance meetings in darkened hallways, the lunch that the place her daddy worked had thrown in his honor for finding Morning Bird. But, really, these didn't count as seeing him.

Panda fixed her eyes upon Orion's belt, trying to remember some nearly forgotten emotion, some remnant of thought missing from her life for what felt like forever. When her dad told her about the constellations, when she had sat up nights with him watching meteor showers, when he had talked to her, she wasn't afraid of the dark. Somewhere, out by Shoemaker Lake, there would be a spot where she would be safe again, and Panda longed to be there so much that her legs lifted her body easily, and she began moving towards her destination.

****

Peter Swann, his white shirt nearly glowing in the darkness by the water, sat on a decaying pier, his shoes barely above the water line. Quickly, he pulled the fishing rod back, and with a flick of his arm the hook and bait flew about 10 yards away into the water.

In his mind, equations and figures flashed by, creating myriad images that he processed, sorted, and sometimes discarded in favor of others. These mental gymnastics, however, were taking place just below the level of consciousness, to be picked up later when he sat down at a computer or found himself by a notepad or piece of scrap paper. For now, on the surface at least, nothing filled his mind beyond a serenity that made itself known far too little in his life.

"What do you mean, Montana again?" Karen had said to him a few hours earlier, a thought he quickly pushed back into its carefully sequestered box. Peter Swann moved through his ever more complicated life thanks to these boxes--boxes for deep thought, boxes for calculations, boxes for play, boxes for family. For now, the box for play was in charge, and he wasn't letting someone who just 'didn't get it' get in his way now.

Karen never understood the boxes, never understood why certain things had taken on more importance at times in his life. This was made even more certain by his promotion to head of the Astronomy Department at the Institute. And Panda . . . Peter shook his head, struggling to place the rogue thoughts back into their proper place, their proper box.

"Daddy," a small voice said from behind him, and Peter nearly dropped his fishing pole into the water.

"Who...what...," he sputtered, spinning around to look at the person who spoke. Suddenly, he found himself confronted by what almost seemed to be his thoughts embodied. "P-p-panda! What are you doing out here alone?"

Panda switched off the flashlight, letting her eyes attempt to adjust to the dark. "I couldn't sleep," she said, almost in a whisper. "I heard the door slam." Peter's expression became an exasperated one.

"Little girl," he said sternly, reeling in his line and propping the pole on a pier support. "Geez, you are not supposed to be out here alone!"

"You are," she said matter-of-factly, and Peter momentarily found himself flummoxed.

"That's not what I said," he rallied, standing up and walking towards his little girl. "YOU are the one who shouldn't be alone. I mean, how did you get here?"

"Walked," Panda stated flatly. Peter felt horrified, and he looked towards the sky to keep from burning his rage into his child's face.

"You just can't do something like that," Peter scolded. "It's dangerous. There are people out in the world who do terrible things to little children."

"Daddy," Panda said with more passion, "I'm twelve." Breathing in deeply, she tried to restrain her anger. "Don't call me a little girl!" Her father raised his hand as if to make a point, but he suddenly found himself flat and unable to speak.

"No," he said, acknowledging the truth. "But you're not grown up either, Panda. Not by a long shot." Looking around, suddenly feeling terribly uncomfortable, Peter awkwardly motioned for Panda to come closer. Somewhat reluctantly, she walked towards her dad's oddly placed arm. Almost like two opposing ends of magnets, it seemed as if the two would never touch. Suddenly, however, there was the grasping of fingers, and father and child awkwardly held hands.

"Why," Peter mumbled, "why are you out here?"

"Why are you," Panda replied. "Daddy, why are you gone away so much? I miss you..." She pulled away from Peter and walked slowly towards the end of the pier. "Mom and me miss you...a lot. I can't see you at home, so I thought...I thought..." She turned to look at Peter again, who stood frozen on the wooden boards of the pier. "I came out to see you where you are."

Peter sighed and looked down towards the dark ripples on the surface of the lake. "Dana...Panda. I know I'm gone a lot. I know it seems like I haven't..." He stopped, deciding what he was going to say wasn't accurate. "I guess I know I haven't been there for you and your mom as much as I should, but..." Peter struggled for words and he felt himself on the verge of falling into a very uncomfortable silence. He was, however, rescued by the appearance of the Morning Bird, his comet, on the horizon. "Look out there," he said with some enthusiasm, pointing his finger in the direction of the celestial visitor. "Panda, I'm a scientist, and its very important for someone like me to... If I hadn't gone away those times, I never would have found that comet." Deep inside, he was suddenly hit with the feeling that he may just have been better off not finding it.

"I know," Panda mumbled, moving closer to her father. "Why couldn't you take Mom and me with you?"

"Well, we can't afford the plane tickets," he started to say, " and the institute..." Panda shook her head, causing Peter to stop his talking.

"That's not what I meant," she said, staring straight into her father's eyes. "I guess I don't know what I really mean. I just know that I miss you, bunches." She moved close enough to Peter that she could smell the Polo on him. "Charlie Yarnell was real scared by something today," she said, "real scared. And Kim and I took him home, and we all talked to him. But you know what, his papa was there to help him too. And when I was scared about walking home in the dark, his dad was there to help me. His dad was there." She paused and bit at her lower lip. "My dad wasn't there, and I want you to be."

Panda, her body slowly calming down, began to shiver slightly in the chilly night air. At first, Peter didn't move, but then it hit him that his daughter was cold and needed his help. Reaching down to the pier, Peter grabbed his blue institute jacket and walked towards his daughter. She turned almost on cue to face the water, and as gently as his shaking hands would allow him, he wrapped the jacket around Panda's shoulders.

"I...," Peter started to say, but the words choked in his mouth, and he was forced to start over several times before giving up and changing tack. "Panda, would...would you like to stay out here with me for awhile?"

Panda again fought back tears, and she audibly sniffled. "Yeah, I suppose," she muttered, smiling slightly at the suggestion.

Peter found a slight smile on his face, sparked by a set of feelings he couldn't quite understand but which he nonetheless enjoyed. Once again, his eyes caught sight of Comet Swann. There were many things he did not understand about the thing that looked down upon the world each night, many things he wanted to know, needed to know despite (almost because of) the frightening possibilities surrounding it. However, something about Morning Bird made him feel satisfied on some level he barely understood, or at least to a certain extent barely remembered.

Slowly, he picked up the fishing rod and tossed the line with a plop into the water, trying to see what he could find in its inky depths.

The End