Page 11 of The Sun
We snuck backin her window just as the sky turned a bright pink that Saturday morning.
Her parents never had a clue, and after breakfast, I crammed all the money I’d saved from not buying milk at lunch—which totaled fifteen dollars—in my back pocket, took my bike, and rode down to the beachfront.
Right across from the public beach was a little shop my maw used to take us when she’d come across some money. They had rock candy and soda and hippie jewelry that Magpie Brown used to make. At least that’s what Maw said.
The little bell above the door jingled when I stepped inside. A thin wisp of smoke swirled through the air, tickling my nose with the strong scent of incense. The shop was full of clutter, surfboards, and tie-dyed t-shirts, shelves of candy and wax skull candles.
From the front of the shop I could just make out Magpie’s salt and pepper hair piled high on her head, stray pieces jutting out everywhere that reminded me of Medusa.
The wooden floorboards creaked when I made my way to the jewelry counter.
“Elias Black,” she said, her voice raspy from cigarette smoke. “I haven’t seen you in a while.” She pushed up from her stool and shuffled toward the counter, her beaded necklaces clattering together. “Did you come in for some rock candy?” She didn’t wait on my response. Just reached for the glass jar and had the lid nearly unscrewed before I cleared my throat.
“No, ma’am. I came in for something special.”
“Special?” One of her bushy eyebrows shot up. “What kinda special?”
I shrugged a shoulder, then stepped closer to the jewelry counter. “Something for a girl.”
“Ah…” she chuckled, which sent her into a coughing fit.
Silver rings filled the display case, some made from spoon handles, some bent in wavy patterns. Then I spotted one with two silver bands and a tiny crescent moon that seem to lock into a sun. I jabbed my finger over the glass. “How much is that one?”
Magpie took the glasses hanging around her neck and placed them on the bridge of her snout-like nose while she peered into the case. “The sun and the moon?”
“Yes, ma’am.”
“Oh, she must be very special.” The door to the case squealed when she pushed it open to reach inside and grab the jewelry. “Because these are very special rings. Friendship rings.” She flipped the little white tag over and frowned, which sent my heart into a spiraling fit of thumps and jumps. “I made these rings under the solar eclipse, and that’s what this is.” She held them out to me and tapped her long, red nail over the sun and moon. “It’s the solar eclipse. The only time the sun and moon ever meet. Tragic if you think about it.”
It was then I caught sight of the price scrawled on the tag. Fifty dollars. My stomach sank. It would take me another six months of no milk to save for that. “It’s pretty,” I said, defeated. “But I can’t pay that. Thanks, Magpie.”
With a sigh, she leaned her elbows over the glass, still holding out the ring. “How special is she, Elias.”
“Special enough that I can’t ever lose her.”
“And why this ring?”
“Well. . .” I drug the toe of my sneaker over the old floor, then blurted out: “Her name’s Sunny, and she’s like my sun because she’s always smiling and making me happy just by being around. And she says I’m like the moon because I bring light into all the dark places.”
A soft smile set on her weathered face, and she pushed away from the counter. “Then I’d say these rings were made for the two of you, Sunny and Elias.” She tore the tag off and went to the cash register. “How much did you bring?”
“Fifteen dollars.”
She nodded. “Then fifteen dollars it is.”
I paid for the ring, thanking old Magpie at least twenty times before I ran out of the store and hopped back on my bike. By the time I reached the Lower’s, my back was sticky with sweat, and there was a stitch shooting through my side, but I didn’t care. I pedaled past Mr. Lower’s Chevy and some beat up Toyota truck parked in the drive, not thinking twice as I rode around to the backyard.
As soon as I rounded the fence, I could see Sunny sitting in her treehouse, facing the corner. I dropped my bike to the ground, the wheels still spinning as I ran through the gate and straight to the dogwood with the rings clutched in my palm.
Halfway up the ladder, I called her name, but she didn’t say anything. The second I climbed onto the platform, she glanced over her shoulder. Her eyes were bloodshot and her cheeks stained with tears. She only looked at me for a second before she turned away.
A dizzy heat washed over me, my skin breaking out in a cold sweat.
Swallowing, I sat beside her and scooted closer until my hip touched hers, and she immediately dropped her head to my shoulder.
“What’s wrong?” I asked, shifting on the hard decking so I could wipe her tears. All she did was shake her head. “Please tell me, Sunny.”
She inhaled then exhaled, gripping my shirt in her hands. “You’re Aunt Billie’s here.”
