Page 12 of Just Right

He pushed past them all, the panic rising, because he couldn't see. He couldn't see this way. He couldn't see at all.

Pushing open the heavy exit door, he stumbled out into the carpeted lobby of the planetarium. There was light now, from overhead and from outside, searing his eyes, impossibly bright after the cool darkness within. He was breathing hard. Memories were looming in his mind, unwanted and terrible. How would he ever find them? He'd gone in there hoping for direction, but he'd come out with a harsh lesson that emphasized how frail and weak he was, how weak they all were.

He checked his phone. Normality seeped back. He had an appointment later this afternoon. He had ordinary things to do in his ordinary life. And yet, the loneliness, the panic, and the sense of terrible disorientation and loss still flared.

"Did you enjoy it?" a motherly-looking woman with curly, red hair asked, bustling out. It seemed that the show was over. He'd only skipped the last couple of minutes after his hasty escape.

"Yes," he lied, with a tight smile. "Yes, I did. It was . . . informative."

"It's interesting, isn't it?" she persisted, clearly wanting to chat. "The way our eyes play tricks on us. We see what we expect to see."

"Yes."

"And how we're different from other creatures who can see things in the dark. So, perhaps we need to change our expectations."

"Yes." He nodded, wondering how much longer she was going to keep speaking to him, because he couldn't handle a conversation right now. He felt as if he was about to crack wide open inside.

Thankfully, with a cheerful smile, she finally turned away. He was left with his own thoughts, his own terror, because he was no longer seeing the stars, but instead, he was remembering the colossal black emptiness of space, the emptiness that surrounded this miniscule planet, and he felt his breath catch in his throat at the thought of it.

He took his phone out. It had been turned off for the show, but now he turned it on. He checked all his updates, making sure he hadn't missed anything.

He caught his breath. There was a possibility here. There was! This might be more than a coincidence.

He stared down at his screen. She was here. Definitely here. One of the ones he was seeking. She must have arrived late. He’d thought she wouldn’t be here at all. But now, she was.

And then, looking up, he saw her out of the corner of his eye.

It was the merest flash, but it was enough for familiarity. For hope. This could mean he was able to find just one of those he sought.

She was tall and curvaceous, with a thick head of blonde hair tied back in a ponytail. She was wearing a pink top and carrying a brown leather purse over her shoulder. He couldn't remember the top, but that must be his own mind playing tricks on him. He was sure he remembered the purse.

With hope flaring inside him now, he turned in her direction.

"Mother?" he whispered, not daring to say the word aloud.

Was it her? Now, he couldn't tell, because the woman had turned and was heading swiftly out of the planetarium.

He caught a glimpse of her face as she turned, a flash of her profile, but it was too far away to see properly.

And then, she was gone.

She was going to leave him behind. She didn't want him to speak to her. He was going to lose her all over again, and the pain was suddenly too intense to bear. He moved to follow her, but the people around him were getting in the way, and it was a struggle to move forward among the crowds.

"Excuse me." He moved to the side to get around the couple blocking his way. "Excuse me. Please."

He had to follow her. He had to find out if it was her. Or if it was only a trick of his eyes. He could have been wrong, but he didn't think he was.

Finally, he managed to get past them, heading now for the exit.

"Mother?" he called again, hurrying after her. But she was already out into the daylight that seemed too bright after the darkness. But he knew where she was going. He already knew. There was no need to panic, he told himself. He could find her. She was following her plotted course, just like the stars themselves.

However, there was a need to follow. He wanted to see her some more, that was why.

There she was, hurrying away, weaving through the people on the sidewalk, her ponytail bouncing. His heart was pounding. He was even surer now that it was her, and he felt desperate to find her and be with her, to reconnect with a part of the life he'd lost.

He raced along, dodging people, muttering an apology as he bumped into a woman with a small child. He raced along, the hope growing inside him, because he knew that he remembered her purse. It was familiar. He was sure of it.

He knew that there wasn't much time. He had places to be this afternoon. But there should be enough time.

---