storyshell

“You can’t send a package to Neptune, silly,” said Millicent Rushmore.

Her little brother, Roman Rushmore, kept his head up straight as he wrapped another long, noisy strand of scotch tape around the bundle of brown construction paper that he’d crumpled over the present he had for the Neptunians. The present was a baseball, signed, of course, by Roman Rushmore, famous Earth baseball player. Well, someday he’d be

“I’m not sending it,” said Roman. “They’re coming to get it.” His small voice barely bounded over the stripping, harsh sound of tape pulling off its roller.

Millicent turned 12 yesterday and she clearly stated that, as of this day, she was officially believing in nothing. She made that proclamation at her birthday party at Lakeshore Park. She made the proclamation to her skinny mother who was already bulging at the middle with the third Rushmore little person, a boy, who they’d name Larson. Millicent said that she was declaring the Tooth Fairy D.O.A., Santa Claus a joke, the Easter Bunny a figment of her parents’ imagination, and the Sugar Sprite, the little imp that took away all the Halloween candy while kids slept, a big fat lie just made up so that her parents could take away all the Halloween candy, except for a handful.

Millicent Rushmore was, as far as her mother could tell from Millicent’s speech, free of fantasy and ready to go forth unto the world of car crashes and tidal waves, greasy jobs and bad people.

She was officially all grown up, she said.

“That was my wish, you know,” she said later on her birthday night, as her parents stood above her in her bed, the window behind them glowing from the streetlight. “When I blew out my candles, my wish was to finally be all grown up.”

Her father had nodded and said, “Well, grown up isn’t an age, angel. Grown up is a place.”

Millicent’s mother grabbed her husband’s shoulder. “I’m not so sure he’s even at that place yet,” she said, as she looked at him. Mr. Rushmore just grinned and shrugged.

“Well, I’m at that place,” said Millicent.

Her father had only chuckled and rubbed her sandbox blonde hair, the same hair that, just 5 years from now, will be dyed green and orange, with glitter.

But, for today, the grown up Millicent had to bring a horse-load of sense into her 6 year-old brother’s head. Her little brother was wrapping a present to Neptune. He’d also wrapped a present for her birthday. The present was a necklace from the silver shop. Their mom had actually bought the present, because Roman really didn’t have any money at all. But, he got to wrap it. And, to him, that was as good as buying it. He’d wrapped the chain in a grocery store bag, but not a normal grocery store bag, but one from one of the fancy grocery stores where mom shopped. That store gave out white bags, and the carry-out people were so nice that they begged you to let them carry out your groceries. The package Roman had wrapped for Millicent looked like something he’d pulled out of the trash, minus the smell of trash. This package to Neptune that he was now wrapping looked just about the same, but it smelled much better.

” Why does it smell like that? What did you put on it? ” said Millicent.

“I put mommy’s smelling sauce on it,” said Roman.

“Her what?”

“Smelling. Sauce.” He finished his last rotation of tape around the present. “Okay. Done!

“Smelling sauce? Her perfume?” said Millicent. “You put her perfume on it? You are in such big trouble!”

Roman held his package out at the length of his short arms, and he smiled at it. “Nice!” he said. They were in the living room the high windows streaming sunlight through the blinds and painting pale yellow bands of daylight across their foreheads

“I’m telling Mom,” said Millicent.

“She won’t do nothing,” said Roman. “She loves me.”

Millicent rolled her eyes. “There’s no such thing as aliens. You are wasting your stupid time. And, what would aliens want with your stupid baseball. They don’t even have baseball on Neptune. They don’t have nothing on Neptune.”

Roman put his package under his arm. “No, they don’t have baseball. I’m going to invent it for them.”

Millicent reached out suddenly, to try to grab the package. Roman swerved and dodged her. “No!” he said.

Millicent snatched again, and Roman dodged again. She ran toward him and he sprinted behind mom’s antique chair.

“Stop it!” he said.

She gave up and walked away. “You’re dumb,” she said. “The dumbest little kid in the world, probably even the universe, including Neptune.” And, she walked down the hall to her room.

Roman looked at his package. He thought of his sister, how she was acting so different now, but, how she didn’t look any different. She still wore the same pink berets in her twisty hair, she still walked on her toes, she still made a sound like a squeaky toy when she sneezed, and she still couldn’t snatch anything from him. She wasn’t so grown up.

He looked up at the high windows, at the sunbeam shafts stabbing through the still air in their living room, the pieces of stuff floating in the light. He’d once asked his father what those things were that floated in the sunlight that came through the window, those wavy little things that you just couldn’t catch, and his father just called them “pieces of stuff.”

But, Roman knew what they really were. They were the things that the Neptunians were going to ride to Earth. They just catch a ride on the pieces as they streamed from the sun. And, he also realized that aliens probably had birthdays, just like his big sister. And, so, they needed presents.

“Happy Birthday, Neptune,” he said. He went outside and put his package under a tree, a tree that he believed was going to be the place where the Neptunians would come. All the little pieces of stuff will float up to Neptune, pick up the Neptunians and bring them back to Earth. Then, a hundred little Neptunians, because that’s how many it would take, would hop off the pieces of stuff, grab the ball, hop back onto the pieces of stuff, which had now formed into a ship big enough to carry the baseball, and they would flutter back up home to Neptune, and get to playing some baseball, thanks to Roman Rushmore, future Earth baseball star.

Millicent watched him from her bedroom window. She watched him place the package so gently into the shadow of the bush next to the house. She watched him step back and look at the package. She watched him look to the sky and say something, and then point to the package under the tree. Then, she watched him disappear around the side of the house, legs pumping in the sunlight.

“Stupid boy,” she said. “Believes in aliens.”

The next day, a Saturday, a cloudy day so gray and fogged that the world looked like it was a black and white movie, Roman woke up and ran past Millicent’s room and went outside. Millicent turned in her bed and slipped back into sleep, dreaming that Roman’s thundering feet were an army of bird wings throttling the sides of the walls.

In a moment, Roman ran back inside and burst open Millicent’s door.

“It’s gone! It’s gone! The aliens took it! I told you!”

Millicent jerked awake, the dream birds disappearing in a flurry of feathers.

“What?” she said, her eyes half-open.

“It’s gone! The Neptunians came!”

Millicent fell back to the pillow. “Yeah, right.”

“Come look! Come look!” he said

“You’re going to wake up mom and dad,” she said.

“Come look!”

“No,” she said. “I’m sleeping.”

“Please? Come on! It’s cool!

“Get out,” she said.

“Millicent …” he said, his voice now lower, and wavering.

“Oh, God,” she said, slapping her pillow.

She got up and went outside with him. The package was definitely gone

She shrugged and went back in.

She walked down the hall toward her room, yawning. She looked behind her to see if Roman had followed. He hadn’t.

She stepped into her room, shut the door, and slid back in bed. She heard Roman rambling past her door, to their parent’s bedroom, thoughts of Neptunians surely spinning in his head.

She waited for a moment, then got out of bed and reached under it under her bed, the smell of her mother’s perfume stinging her nose. She pulled Roman’s package to Neptune from under a pile of her dirty clothes. She smelled it and smiled a little

Roman’s not old enough to not believe imaginary creatures could come to his door, she thought to herself. He’s just not old enough to not believe. Because, she thought, maybe, just maybe they can.