A story for Harrie from Alison and Simon
It was a cold, clear Tuesday night. Harrie ate her dinner so quickly she was done by the time Maggie and Rachel were still munching on their third forkful.
‘I don’t think we gave her enough,’ Rachel said.
‘Do you want more dinner, Harrie?’ Maggie asked.
Harrie shook her head, but wasn’t looking at either of her mothers. She was staring out the window behind them. The sun was down and only a pink light softened the horizon. Just above, where the pink became violet, she could just make out the twinkle of Venus, the evening star and the first light to appear in the night sky. It was one of her favourite things to look at with her telescope – but tonight she had other plans.
‘Are you sure you don’t want more food?’ Rachel asked, looking over her shoulder to see what Harrie was gazing at. ‘Remember, it’s a full moon tonight and it will be so bright it will be hard to see anything else.’
Harrie nodded. ‘I know. That’s why I want go out. I want to look at the moon.’
‘That’s a good idea,’ Maggie said. ‘You haven’t looked at it through your telescope for some time; you’ve been too busy with Jupiter and Mars and Orion’s Belt – ’
‘Twenty-two nights ago,’ Harrie said, her voice very definite. ‘And point-two.’
‘Point two?’ Maggie asked.
‘Twenty-two-point-two nights ago.’ Harrie’s face scrunched up in thought. ‘Can you have a point-two night?’
Her mothers shrugged at the same time. ‘I guess,’ Maggie said. ‘You sound very sure of yourself, though.’
‘Uh-huh. The last time I looked at the moon through my telescope was when it was in its last quarter, and that was twenty-two-point-two nights ago.’ Harrie took a deep breath: that sentence was long even for her.
‘When does it come up?’ Rachel asked.
Harrie pointed to the side of the house opposite the window. ‘It should already be up. But the best time to see it will be … ’ Her voice trailed off and her face scrunched up in thought again. She moved her dinner plate out of the way, stretched out her arms and placed her straight hands on top of one another, palms inward. ‘That’s twenty degrees and the moon moves half-a-degree every hour and the moon is about here and the best time to see it is when it’s here … ’ She wiggled fingers to show exactly where the moon was each time she mentioned it.
‘So the best time to see it is when it reached the little finger on your right hand,’ Rachel observed, smiling slightly.
Harrie nodded, taking another deep breath.
‘You are very clever,’ Maggie said matter-of-factly.
Harrie sighed. ‘Yes,’ she agreed, as if it was a burden.
‘So, just to make sure I understood what you’re saying,’ Rachel said, ‘the best time to see the moon is about half-an-hour from now?’
‘That’s about your bed time.’
‘Hmm,’ both mothers said at the same time.
‘But it has been twenty-two-point-two nights since I saw the moon with my telescope,’ Harrie pointed out reasonably.
Maggie and Rachel looked at one another. ‘True,’ Maggie said.
‘And in the life of five-year old, twenty-two nights is quite a long time,’ Rachel added.
‘Not to forget the point-two,’ Maggie pointed out.
The mothers fell silent as they considered whether or not to let Harrie stay up past her bedtime.
‘We could ask Banjo what he thinks,’ Harrie suggested. ‘Banjo?’
A young black-and-tan kelpie bounced into the room with more haste than dignity as his back paws skidded out from underneath him and he ended up sliding on his bum for the last two metres. He came to a stop right next to Harrie and gazed up at her adoringly, as if the whole tangled, embarrassing entrance had been planned.
‘One day he’ll grow into those large paws of his,’ Rachel whispered to Maggie. ‘Hopefully.’
‘Banjo, I have an important question for you,’ Harrie said, solemnly meeting the dog’s gaze.
Banjo barked once. Everyone in the family knew that meant ‘yes’, except when it meant ‘no’.
‘Do you think I should stay up late so I can see the full moon in my telescope?’
Again, Banjo barked just once, and Harrie turned back to her mothers. ‘See?’
‘Well, no arguing with that,’ Rachel said.
Maggie let out a small sigh. ‘All right, but just this once. You are not to take this as permission for you to stay up every time you want to go out and look at the night sky.’
‘Maybe once every twenty-two days?’ Harrie suggested.
‘Don’t push it, kiddo,’ Maggie said. ‘Now go and get some warm clothes on. The last thing we need is for you to freeze out there.’
Harrie grinned at her mothers as she left the table, then hurried to her room, eagerly followed by a scurrying Banjo who this time somehow managed stay upright on all four paws.
Although winter was officially over and spring had sprung, Harrie’s home town was high up in the mountains and it got cold there when the sun was down. But it did make for spectacular nights, when the stars and the planets danced across the black velvety sky.
Harrie loved looking up at them even when she didn’t have a telescope, but now that she could see them up close the night sky seemed twice as special. And the most special thing in the whole universe to see with a telescope was the Moon.
The first time she had looked through the eyepiece and the Moon suddenly swung into view it seemed to jump right out at her and she forgot to breathe for a long time, and when she finally did breathe out it came in a great big gush.
Harrie never got tired of looking at it. She knew all the big craters now – like Copernicus and Kepler – and all the big seas – like the Sea of Nectar and the Sea of Islands. But most especially she knew the Sea of Tranquility, because that is where the first humans who walked on the moon landed their spaceship, called the Lunar Module.
The night was getting colder and colder. But Harrie didn’t feel it. Even Banjo was getting cold, and tried snuggling up against her legs, almost tipping her over. But Harrie didn’t care. Her mothers were softly calling to her to come back inside. But Harrie didn’t hear them. Staring through her telescope at that great white globe with all its craters and seas and mountains was more important than being warm or going to bed.
One day I’ll go there, she thought. One day I’ll go the Sea of Tranquility and touch the dark soil and then look up and see Earth, and with my telescope I’ll find home and wave at my mothers and Banjo and everyone else I know.
Maggie tapped her gently on the shoulder. ‘It’s time, Harrie. We’ve let you stay up for a long while. Come inside now. Your cheeks are as hard and cold as ice.’
Slowly she drew back from the telescope. When she looked up into the sky again the Moon was still there but much smaller.
‘Still pretty,’ she said, ‘no matter how big it is.’
Maggie and Rachel stared up at the Moon as well. Even Banjo, who was wondering what everyone was staring at that seemed so interesting. There wasn’t a rabbit to be seen anywhere.
‘Look!’ Harrie said, pointing at the soft nebula of light that surrounded the Moon. On either side of it was a little light. ‘Are they planets or stars?’
Maggie laughed. ‘I’ve heard of them but never seen them before.’
Rachel and Harrie looked at her expectantly. ‘What are they?’ Harrie asked.
‘They’re called Moon Dogs. It’s so cold up there that the light from the Moon is being caught by ice crystals. They almost look like miniature moons, don’t they?’
Harrie sighed, a deep and immensely satisfying sound. She patted Banjo on the head and started back the house, the moonlight shining in her hair and on his fur.
She stopped for a second, looked back up at the sky, and said, ‘Look Banjo, Moon Dogs.’
Banjo barked once, meaning, ‘Yes, what else would they call them?’