Sweet Soul

“Then I’m real glad I showed you it,” I replied, and began to step back. I pointed to the pool house, and said, “I better get back. I’ll see you in safe.”

Elsie disappeared through the door to the main house. I walked back to the pool house feeling a huge sense of loss. I wanted her by my side. I wanted her to talk more. I just wanted to spend all of my time with Elsie, period. After years alone, it felt nice to have another by my side.

I opened my door, and left the curtains open. Elsie’s jar was visible from my bed. After brushing my teeth and changing into my sleep sweats, I climbed into bed, immediately searching for the jar’s glow… which had disappeared.

I sat bolt upright in bed, frowning at where the hell it’d gone. Then I spotted the light making its way through the backyard. My heart beat faster as the light neared my door.  Elsie slipped through. Shutting the door behind her, she held the little mason jar of light in her hands.

Her face flushed when her eyes landed on my bare torso. “What are you doing here?” I asked.

Cautiously, Elsie stepped forward, then again, to explain, “I didn’t want to be alone in my room when you were down here.” She edged closer, but stopped at the foot of the bed. The expression on her face had become serious. “I didn’t feel comfortable up there on my own. I wanted to be near you. But I didn’t… I haven’t… I don’t know if I can…”

I sighed, knowing what she was getting at. I held up my hands. “It’s alright, Elsie. I ain’t expecting that... from you.”

Elsie’s shoulders relaxed. She walked to the other side of my bed. She carefully placed the mason jar on the side table and sat down. Kicking off her shoes, she lay down, and turned to face me.

I lay on my pillow, facing her right back.

It felt strange having her in my bed, yet it was so welcomed. Elsie smiled shyly when I reached out to run my hand down her face. Elsie caught my hand and brought it to her chest. She had changed into her pajamas, and she looked so cute lying in front of me, right here, right now, just like this.

“Let’s sleep,” I said, and I turned off the lamp on my side of the bed. Elsie’s jar of course gave off its dull glow. I moved to face her once again.

I waited for Elsie to close her eyes and try to sleep. Instead, she whispered, “Yellow stars on the ceiling.”

“What?” I queried, not sure if I’d heard her correctly.

Elsie shifted on the bed, inching closer along her pillow and repeated, “The yellow stars on the ceiling that shine in the night.” She rolled on to her back and pointed at my ceiling. “One of the most beautiful things I’ve ever seen, glow-in-the-dark stars on the ceiling.”

I wriggled closer until I could wrap my arm around her waist. Elsie’s blue eyes were shining in the glow of the light. She tilted her face to me. “We mostly lived on the street, but occasionally we would have a home. Sometimes my mom would gather enough money to rent a room for us somewhere, other times the men she…” Elsie’s expression fell. I held her tighter. She gripped my hand. “Sometimes… her men would give us somewhere to stay, to be safe.” A teardrop fell from her eyes, then she continued. “I never used to get anything for my birthday. Most years my mom would forget. But one year, we had a roof over our heads.” Elsie sighed. “I must have been about eight or nine. I came home and my mom had a small cake—it was round with pink frosting. My name was written across the top. I knew she had made it, or had at least written my name, because the pink writing was barely legible. My mom hadn’t had much of an education, but she’d written my name… for me. She tried, had pushed through her embarrassment… for me.”

My chest felt hollow as I imagined a young, poor Elsie, caring for her deaf drug-addicted mom. She smiled timidly, and I simply melted.

“She made me blow out a single candle, and then made me lie on the bed. I did as she asked, then she turned off the light. Resting in her arms, I looked up to see our shabby ceiling adorned with neon stars.” Elsie sniffed. “It was the one of the only birthday presents I have ever received.” She rolled on her side, her forehead almost touching mine. A stray tear traveled over her nose and splashed on to the mattress.

“Those little plastic stars are beautiful to me, because they represent one of the few happy moments in my life.” I waited for her to say more, but her eyes glazed over. “Yellow and bright, they shine in the night. Glittering stars, I stare for hours. In the dark, dark room they are all I can see, a kiss on my cheek, happy birthday, Elsie.”  Elsie seemed to close in on herself, then she explained, “It was the first poem I ever wrote.” She laughed. “It was terrible. I was only a kid, I guess, but when I showed it to my mom, she cried. She said she would treasure it, always. So I didn’t stop writing. My poems made my mom happy.” Elsie tried to turn her face away from mine, but I placed my hand under her chin, wanting her to see me.

“I get it,” I hushed out. I meant every word. “Your plastic neon stars were my lightning bug jars.”

Elsie wiped her face, then ran her hand around my eye. “Your eyes,” she said, “they remind me of the moon. In the day they look so light; they resemble an overcast sky. They look so pretty against your olive skin. But at night, like now, they look silvery… like the moon.”

My hands clenched. Elsie noticed. I cleared my throat. “My mamma called me ‘mia luna’, her moon. I never knew why, but I did wonder if it was because of my eyes.”

Elsie smiled. She nervously recited, “My mom brought me the stars. Levi Carillo, you bring me the moon.”

I held my breath, then whispered back, “Then you bring me the shine.”

Elsie closed the inch gap between us and pressed her lips to mine. The kiss was soft and quick, but it meant more than ever before. She was in my bed. My girl, in my bed. Being ourselves. No hiding. No shying away.

Elsie snuggled into my bare chest, her warm breath caressing my skin. I closed my eyes, feeling sleep beginning to move in, when I asked, “When is your birthday?”

Elsie stiffened, but confided, “In a week. I’ll be nineteen on the twelfth.”

A week, I thought. But I kept it to myself. I had a game that day, but I had the whole night after. I wanted to give Elsie a second birthday to remember. She deserved it. She deserved to have it all.