Oddfellow's Orphanage (12 page)

A STAR WITH A TAIL

H
AIL
clattered on the windows of the dining room. The cooks had surprised the children with mugs of hot chocolate capped with small clouds of whipped cream to go along with their breakfast. Everyone was very happy to be cozy and dry inside, rather than wet outside (and with no toast and jam).

“Hot chocolate for breakfast!” Ava said, nudging Delia happily.

Delia drank it slowly, feeling it warm her up as it went down.

Hugo sat next to them at the breakfast table. He took an enormous sip of cocoa and set down his mug, wiping the moustache of cream from his lip. He was in the middle of asking for another mug when the headmaster strolled to the front of the dining room.

The room grew quiet except for the hail clicking on the windows.

“Everyone!” called Headmaster Bluebeard. “Professor Stella has something important to tell us!”

The professor sat at the teachers’ table with her nose in a big blue book inlaid with gold stars. Upon hearing the headmaster’s announcement, she peered over the book to see every eye in the room on her. She closed her book and walked to the end of the long table.

“Good morning, everyone,” the professor said. She cleared her throat. “I have something exciting to tell you—something that hasn’t happened for seven hundred years but is about to happen again this very night!”

The room filled with murmurs. The children looked at each other, wondering what this seven-hundred-year-old thing could be.

“What is it, Professor?” Imogen called.

“A comet!” announced the professor. “The Great Comet will be seen in the sky tonight. That is, if the sky clears up.”

THAT
day, their Astronomy class, which was usually calm, was very lively. Professor Stella glided about the room, smiling as she answered the children’s questions about the Great Comet.

“Is a comet made from the same things as a star?” asked Felix.

“Yes and no,” said the professor. “One of the ingredients that make a star and make a comet is the same: gas. But stars and comets are very different, because a star is created from a collapsing cloud of gas. A comet is more like a great big dirty snowball, made of ice and rocks. Plus, a comet has a tail.”

“A tail?” the children asked. “Like the tail of a cat?”

Professor Stella laughed. “Maybe a giant cat! The tail of a comet can grow to be many millions of miles long. That’s longer than any road in the world. Can you imagine?”

The professor showed them big drawings that she had to unroll on the floor and told them stories about the Great Comets through history. Before the students knew it, class was over!

When the children left for the afternoon, the professor went to the window. The hail was still falling and the sky was
still cloudy. Professor Stella’s eyes were filled with worry. She frowned and turned to dusting her collection of miniature solar systems to distract herself from the disheartening weather.

Later that afternoon, the hail turned to an icy drizzle and finally slowed to a stop, but the clouds stayed stubbornly right where they were. The orphans played in the living room, warmed by a crackling fire, with frequent glances out at the dreary day.

Lucy and Daniel played checkers at a table, and beside them, Lucy’s twin, Louise, was in a fierce chess match with Felix. Tom and Ollie were both reading on a couch—Tom a big clothbound volume from the library, and Ollie a comic book. Hugo, Delia, and Imogen lay on the floor drawing pictures, pencils and crayons scattered all around them. Nurse Effie sat alongside them, mending things and teaching Ava simple sewing stitches until dinnertime came.

At dinner, they had chicken potpies filled with carrots and potatoes. The pies were so good that, for a while, they kept everybody from looking out the windows. After dinner, the children stacked their plates up for the cooks.

The windows showed sooty rectangles of sky, so it came as
a surprise when Professor Stella appeared, bundled in her coat and holding her telescope. She asked everyone, including the grown-ups, to put on their coats and get ready to go out into the chilly night air. “You never know,” she said.

Everyone gathered in front of the house, bundled in coats and scarves and mittens. It was windy, and the clouds moved quickly in the sky, showing occasional flashes of a white crescent moon.

With her telescope, Professor Stella searched for a break in the clouds big enough to spot the comet, but they were too knitted together to see anything. The children and grown-ups craned their necks skyward. The wind rustled through the dark trees, and Delia put her mittened hands in her coat pockets.

After a while, people began to talk and give their necks a break from staring at the cloudy sky.

Suddenly, the twins called out in unison: “I see it! Professor, I see it!”

Every head looked up. The clouds were breaking apart at their seams. Between the wisps of cloud was a glowing tail joined to a bright spot. It looked like something dashing across the sky, but it didn’t move!

“It’s like a big shooting star that’s not shooting at all, but kind of creeping along,” Lucy said, squinting.

“Or a dirty snowball,” Ava whispered.

Delia nodded.

“I’ve never seen a snowball that looks anything like that,” Felix replied, shaking his head. “I think it’s really a great big star with a tail.”

Professor Stella’s face glowed as she gazed at the sky. “I’ve been waiting to see you for so long! I knew you’d come,” she said contentedly. Everyone stared and stared for what seemed like hours, watching the clouds drift over and around the bright dash.

At last, the group scattered, and they all slowly made their way back to the house. Everyone went to bed very quietly that night. They washed their faces and climbed into bed, hushed with wonder at the sight of something new and marvelous in something as old and familiar as the night sky.

A WINTER FLURRY

A
week before Christmas, a special feeling spread through the orphanage. Classes were canceled for the holidays, so during the day, the children practiced their Christmas play. Ava, Delia, Imogen, and Hugo paced the library rehearsing their parts. The twins practiced the piano accompaniment. Felix and Daniel helped Hank ready the stage, and Ollie and Tom painted backdrops and gathered props.

The children enlisted Nurse Effie (whose mending stitches graced many of their trousers and dresses) and the headmaster himself (also handy with a needle and thread) to help with the costumes.

In the evenings, Delia and Ava worked on making special presents for each other. This was tricky as it is very hard to
make presents for people you are with all day long! The girls solved this problem by stringing a sheet between their two beds so they each had a makeshift workshop. The only sounds that could be heard (other than Ava’s finches) were mysterious scissor snips and the rustling of paper.

For all the long days of preparations and excitement, Christmas Eve arrived rather suddenly. It announced itself with fresh snow flurries, and after breakfast everyone joined Hank on his search for the perfect Christmas tree.

As they all tromped through the woods, the cold air froze Delia’s nose. Daniel pointed out two spotted deer, their bodies warmly brown against all the wintry white. The deer watched the procession of woolen winter coats as the children and grown-ups made their way to the grove of Christmas trees, the snow muffling all sounds.

Inside the grove, towering above the other trees, stood a magnificent fir tree. It was clothed in proud green branches, and everyone agreed it was the one that belonged at Oddfellow’s. Hank made one swift cut with his ax, and he and the headmaster hoisted the giant fir onto their shoulders.

Delia remembered her papa carrying a Christmas tree, smaller and more modest, of course. Delia pinched a sprig of needles, breaking them between her fingers, and the sweet piney smell filled her with warmth.