Why are there so many stars in the universe? Sometimes, they’re brilliant, all aglow, while other times  hiding behind dark clouds or not out at all, leaving on any given night like preachers leaving churches, children running away, lovers parting, or folks passing on.

But, on nights when they shine, stars make you think. The moon makes you dream. Stars stir the  brain. They leave you in constant thought long after they’ve burned out. Look up in the sky. A shooting star. You know it’s doomed. Destined to die. And then there’s a million more to take its place. 

He’d look up in the sky every night from out in the garden. Boots sunk into wet dirt amongst tomato plants, squash, and peppers. No binoculars or microscope. Just the naked eye. 

John stayed out there for hours.  Never did he wish. The boy just thought a lot. Wondered if stories about his father were true;  curious as to why mom quit going to church on Sundays.

Maybe God left her, he thought. Just like the stars. Or maybe she left God. The young one wanted to know. He wanted to know a lot of things, but after Billy’s death, she quit talking. Other than arguing with William, the stern woman did not say a word. She just did her chores and remained silent.

Perhaps that’s why dad left, he told the stars.

No, the stars said. He left long before that.