I can be reached at therealmeagh [at] gmail.com


Stardust in the Wind

Most stars travel in pairs, orbiting one another—they’re called binary stars, and some of them travel so closely together that their gases and dust flow from one to the other, so you might not even know who is who. That’s how Manny and I are. It’s how we’ve always been.

Our night swimming spot is about a mile from my house on Highway 22, past the graffiti-filled rock walls that line that part of the highway. There’s Kenny luvs Shayna, and Ricky 4Eva RIP and some that are just scribbles or symbols. It’s just after the TONY THE DRUNK IS A THIEF, when the wall breaks up and opens to Lake Champlain, where there’s a sheltered area that's perfect for swimming without being seen.

The humidity clings like Velcro on the night everything starts to change. We climb to the top of the end of the cliff wall just off the shoulder of the highway—it isn’t that tall there, maybe five feet high—and it's pretty flat, so we can lie across it. It's pitch black out so we don't have to worry about being seen.

"27," Manny says.

"23."

That's how many cars we guess will pass in the next hour. Whoever is closest without going over wins and the loser has to jump in the water first. It doesn’t make much sense because we're both going to swim anyway but what the hell else are we going to do?

I turn over on my back to look at the stars.

"They announce the winner next week," I say. "The Teacher-in-Space thing."

"Oh, really?"

A car passes. That's one.

"Yep."

"That's rad."

"Yeah. You wanna come over and watch it?"

Two more cars.

"Three," Manny says. Then, "Sure."

"That's gonna be me some day you know, going up there."

"That's news to me. I've never heard you say anything like that before.”

He's being sarcastic. I say it a lot. But now it’s different. Now some regular person is going to get picked to go.

"Ha. Ha. Not funny.”

We're quiet for a minute.

"I can’t help talking about it a lot. This place is suffocating." “This place” being, Whitehall, New York. Population 1,976. A grocery store, a hardware store, a Stewart's. Oh, and a bowling alley.

"Guess I'll have to find myself some new friends.”


The indomitable Spirit

of Bennie Hayes

Bennie Hayes felt as if she might burst with anticipation. (Patience never had been one of her virtues. Come to think of it, she wasn’t sure whether she could claim any of the virtues. Kindness! There was one. She did have a big heart. And she supposed if one possessed a single virtue, kindness was probably the most important of all.)

She paced in her bedroom, envelope in hand, as Billie Holiday’s voice lifted from the radio like chiffon rustling in the breeze. She went to the window, leaning over the window seat, and peered down Grosvenor Street, all the way on the other side of Azalea Drive.

No Georgie to be found.

With an exasperated sigh she went back to pacing.

For the past three days, she had sat vigil at the window for the postman so that she could intercept the mail before her mother would get her hands on it.

 Well her persistence had finally paid off. The letter from the Women’s Auxiliary Army Corp, the first women's division in the US armed forces, had just arrived that afternoon. But she couldn’t stand to open it until Georgie was there. Where was she?

After another several minutes of pacing, and two more long stares out the window, she finally saw her cousin in the distance. Though still well down the street, Georgie was easily recognizable— she wore her light golden-brown hair closely cropped, revealing high cheekbones and an angular jaw, and her long limbs moved with ease and purpose in the world.

When Georgie crossed the road, Bennie tossed the unopened envelope onto her vanity and dashed down the stairs.

“Finally,” she said breathlessly, as she flung the door open before Georgie had the chance to grab hold of the knocker.

“Hello to you too.”

“The letter came,” Bennie said in a low voice, her eyes twinkling.

The cousins couldn’t have looked more different; Bennie had inherited her mother’s and aunt’s dark hair and short stature, while Georgie and her twin brother, Paul looked just like Georgie’s father, tall and slim, with light hair. The one common characteristic they all shared was their mothers’ hazel eyes.

“What does it say?”

Bennie put her finger to her lips and pulled Georgie inside.