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"Mama?"
"Yes, Billy?"
"Why are there so many stars in the sky?"
Mary smiled in the darkness. "Well, when I was about your age, your grandpa told me it was because there wouldn't be much to look at if there was only just one."
"Only one star? That's silly." Billy giggled and turned on his side to face his mother.
"I thought it was silly too, but then I thought the sky would be a lonely place if it only had one star and no one would want to look at it."
"Yeah, maybe." Billy turned his attention back to the sky. He was playing with his flashlight now, flicking it on to send a beam of light straight up into the night, and then quickly turning it off. He repeated this every couple of seconds.
Mary looked at her five-year old son. He was hardly more than a shadow, and she could just make out Spiderman on his pajamas. They were becoming threadbare from all the washing and she'd have to replace them soon. This was not something she looked forward to as these were his favorites. Mary had looked for a new set the week before, but Spiderman could not be found. Convincing Billy to change superhero loyalties was not something she wanted to take on single-handedly. Maybe she'd just take him with her and let the store clerk explain it.
Mary waited for Billy's next question. She knew there would be more, but had quit anticipating that they would follow any logical sequence. She loved his spontaneity and wished that she could crawl inside his head to watch the kaleidoscope of words and thoughts tumbling around together.
These star-gazing excursions were very dear to her. It had become a ritual of sorts. The first time they came out to look at the stars was two summers ago. Billy had just finished his bath and was struggling to get into his pajamasCare Bears thenand he complained about it being too hot. And it was. Even though she had just finished toweling him dry, Mary could see his little body glistening with sweat. The usual breeze that normally kicked in after sundown had taken the night off. The air was so still that the curtains did not so much as quiver against the open window.
Remembering the hot days of her own childhood growing up in the same house, Mary knew exactly what to do. Grabbing an old sheet from the linen closet, she took hold of her son's hand and said, "C'mon Billy, we're going on an adventure."
"Mama?"
The sound of his voice brought Mary back to the present and she found it hard to keep amusement out of her own. "Yes, Billy?"
"Why do fireflies get to have lights
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