Sea of Stars
Sea of Stars
"You'll never find her. You're crazy to even try."
The coyote sighed as he talked to the chief of police. He would never understand.
"I know. I have to though."
The skunk behind the small desk rolled his eyes as he sat in his leather chair. The city stood behind him in the window. All the buildings were peering in and passing judgment on them. He never had any hope. All his life was only for the easy cases, not the impossible ones.
"She's dead. You know that, right?"
"We don't know that yet..."
"It doesn't matter whether we know it or not! She's dead! They are all dead by this time!"
"Then I'll find her killer!" the coyote shot back, "I don't need to be paid to find out what I need to know!"
The chief of police blinked his eyes and the insubordination. He had never seen his lead detective so animate about a case. He couldn't see the hope.
"You need to take some time off for a while. Really," he suggested, "You're getting a bit too... in to it."
"I'm going to find her."
"You'll find her in a garbage can. It's over already."
"It hasn't even started."
The windows in the office silently shattered filling the room with slowly falling shards of glass. They hung suspended in the air as if painted there. Every window was its own waterfall. The chief didn't notice. He just dumbly stared through the detective with a frozen, doll-like gaze.
The detective caught some glass in his hand. All of the little edges were so sharp, but they could never cut him. Everything was as quiet like a forgotten graveyard. The whole world was holding its breath to see what would happen. He was running out of air. He started to fall forward from exhaustion; opening his eyes just in time to see the telephone pole.
He awoke behind the wheel of his truck. His canine ears slowly became aware of the blaring of the horn, which was quickly fixed by sitting up straight again. The highway patrolman opened the driver's side door and helped the tawny coyote out of his truck.
"Are you alright? You're bleeding like a sonofabitch," said the patrolman.
"I'm okay."
"Did you just pull out of that trailer park?"
"No."
"How many drinks have you had tonight?"
"None, I fell asleep," he answered.
The patrolman said "uh-huh" while he nodded his head with the wide-brimmed hat. His cougar whiskers silhouetted against his face by the headlights, twitched a little out of annoyance, though it would be hardly noticed by anyone else.
"No really, I did," said the coyote as soon as he saw the patrolman's disbelief, "I haven't been sleeping well officer."
"Let me see your license."
The cougar became even more disbelieving when he saw the badge.
"John Moreno," he said, "7th Precinct Detective. Chicago, Illinois. Birthday is August 12, 1932. Well, happy birthday Detective Moreno. Is a late night drive how you want to spend your thirtieth birthday? I find it hard to believe that a man doesn't drink on his birthday."
"I haven't been drinking," said John in an exhausted tone.
The cougar raised his paws in defense and said, "Not a lot goes on around here. Now, since it's your birthday, and also because you're a big time detective from a big city, and since you seem pretty sober to me, I'll take your word that you haven't been drinking. I'm not letting you just drive away though. There is a motel down this road here. I'll take you there in my car, you can catch some sleep, and then you can check up on your truck in the morning."
"Sounds good. What about a hospital?"
"Are you serious? Just where do you think we'll find a hospital out here in Wyoming? I think your best bet would be Colorado or Nevada and hell if I'm going to drive you there. This motel I'm taking you to is part of a small store. I'm sure you can pick up some alcohol and cotton swabs there."
The coyote just nodded his head. He really was in the middle of nowhere and he knew it.
"That will work. Thanks officer."
The older fox looked through the powerful telescope on Sequoia Mountain. He found it calming to study the night sky. Everything in the night sky is right where it should be as the stars are never placed by chance. But, there are always discoveries to be made. He knew the patch of sky well, but he found it unsettling that night. Somehow, it was darker, not quite right. It just wasn't as he remembered it.
"Are you sure this is in the right spot, Cepheus?" he asked his graduate assistant.
The black-footed ferret looked up from his studies. It was his job to align the telescope and although the consequences would be almost non-existent, he still didn't want to mess it up.
"I'm certain Dr. Sable," he assured him, "It's right where it should be. I'm positive it's the Romeo Gamma Cluster."
"Well, we'll just see about that," said Dr. Sable, "This can't be it, so let's just find what your mistake is, then you won't make the same one again."
Cepheus looked away and bowed his head a little. Though the fox's tone was pleasant, the last thing the ferret wanted was for the smartest professor at the college to think he was a fool, but he knew he was right. After forty years of studying the movement of the stars, those little specks of light were more familiar to Dr. Sable than anything. Even the ticking of the doomsday clock couldn't distract him when it came to astronomy.
But, Cepheus wasn't wrong. The telescope was aligned correctly for the time of the year. It was pointing right where it should. The cluster of stars just wasn't all there. Dr. Sable frantically pulled out a still photograph he had taken of the star system two years earlier to compare.
"Cepheus, I want you to look through the scope and compare what you see to this photograph. I have to be sure of something," ordered the fox.
The graduate assistant did as he was told. He got himself into the reclined chair and peered through the scope, then at the photo, then back again.
"That's the Romeo Gamma Cluster Dr. Sable. No doubt about it. The main stars are there, but all the others are gone," he said.
Dr. Sable shook his rusty colored head. "Gone," he said, "I can't believe it. How can stars disappear? You would think that with the day and age we're in, we could tell when stars go missing. If one of them had a supernova, it wouldn't reach the others and we'd be able to observe it..."
Just then the phone at the observatory rang. In the dome shaped room, the little bell was a cacophony of sound. Luckily, Dr. Sable is not the kind of man who waits for a third ring.
"Hello? This is he... I'm sorry, can you say that again, I can't quite make out your accent... Oh. Oh yes, yes. I agree... I have noticed that as well... Yours too you say? Really? Where is your observatory? Have any others called you? I see... I say we examine other systems and compare them to earlier photographs... Of course, how can I reach you? Very well, adios to you too."
Dr. Sable turned to his young assistant. "That was Dr. Simarro of the Big Sur Observatory. He says that all of their watched star systems have been looking a little funny too. As if the stars are disappearing," he thought for a moment, "Let's monitor this and see if we can track it, but only in the Romeo Gamma Cluster, let's not get overwhelmed."
The room wasn't the best in the world, but it certainly wasn't dirty. A comfortable bed was all Frank really wanted. That way, he might get to sleep. He knew he was kidding himself though. The coyote could count the hours he spent sleeping in the past few days on two hands. Regardless, he threw himself onto the bed and attempted to calm down.
In his lonely motel room, Frank concentrated on a spot on the ceiling. He let his eyes glaze over in the dark so that everything started to move except for that single spot, but even in his relaxed state, he couldn't fall asleep. Nothing helped. He was tired and enveloped in total silence. At 2:30 in the morning he could only dream without sleeping.
Whenever he had one of his little episodes, he would only be more confused than he was before, but he knew it all had to do with that girl. He had to find her. It all led to 9-year old Jamie Lewis. She had been kidnapped in his district, and even though she was long gone by now, Frank had to find her. He had an unexplainable fear that something terrible was happening. He had even taken an entire week off because he couldn't sleep. He knew that Jamie's disappearance had something to do with it.
The dreams were about her, but not about her. They only showed the way. Everything else was lost on him. The diamonds fell from the sky again and burst upon his fur like dew drops, setting it shimmering with slender, perfect fragments. Everything smelled like it was burning. The bed and cheap furniture was turning to charcoal, but he remained drenched in luminous rain. He tried to raise his hand to stop them from falling, but he was stuck still. He couldn't control the sky as it came crashing down in a cold and mighty torrent.
He tried not to be afraid, but he found that he didn't have to. Frank just accepted it. He closed his eyes and opened his mouth. It tasted like gunfire and it stung his tongue like cheap booze, making him dizzy. The coyote swallowed and opened his eyes.
Frank was able to turn his head to see that he wasn't on his bed anymore, but in a desert. He could feel the sand working its way into his ear. A light was rising in the distance even though it was night. It blinded him and ruffled his fur. He could only hear thousands of clicking insects as our closest star descended onto the earth for a final sunset.
The coyote choked as he awoke. It was 3:47. He had been asleep for over an hour. It was torturous. Just enough so that he could recover a tiny bit, but not nearly enough to be satisfied. He had to find that girl before he would ever know peace again. He couldn't even ask for help or explain to that cop why he was all the way in the Southwest.
What would he say? Only a very small amount of his life actually made sense to him in the past few days and it certainly wouldn't make sense to someone else. All of his actions revolved around dreamscapes that only he could see, and only he could follow. It was at its worst when he crashed the truck near the trailer park. He never wanted to live through that again. It was too much like real life and the memory of it still plagued him.
Though he couldn't sleep, he could still dimly think about his latest dream. There were only a few rock formations that he could tell, though he obviously had no knowledge of them. He had lived in Chicago for all of his life. It was his mother and father who could trace their family lineage to the coyotes of the desert, not him.
It was 4:02 the next time Frank checked; a perfect time to get an early, early start on the day. By the time he made it back to his truck, he would surely be awake enough to drive, or if needed, push it to the nearest service station. With his mind made up, and no more dreams to be had, Frank drearily got himself into the shower.
He rinsed in the tinny water and marveled at how it reminded him of the taste from his dream. It was spicy, if water could be spicy, and so filled with minerals that it was like blood. Once he finished, it was a reasonable time to get dressed and walk back. Of course, this was all after drinking several cups of coffee. He had to stay awake somehow, even if the motel's particular brand of coffee was horrifying to behold as it was brewed from the same water.
Once he had made his way back, Frank could see that the truck had apparently coasted to where it met the pole. There was no damage to the engine and it started right up. The bumper however, looked like hell.
"That's the most hick thing I've ever seen. I really need to get that replaced," said Frank as his finger ran over the damage done. He recalled the vision he had seen before the crash and how much the diamond rain reminded him of the glass filled office. "Later," he said, "After I do this."
The road started to draw him in, so he had no choice but to follow it for the rest of the day. Though he had certainly had worse days, it wasn't too horrible just to drive out in the desert stopping only for gas and meals. By dinner he was thoroughly tired and his eyes were sore from looking at the big rust spot named Nevada. It made it easy to drown himself in his meal at a diner, though he was afraid that he might fall off the stool.
"Can I get you something?"
Frank looked up to see an older wolf behind the counter in front of him. She seemed nice enough, and he felt a little guilty for ignoring her the whole time. There was no one else around, so he was really obligated to talk to her. He looked at the glass stands sitting next to him on the counter. There were three of them, all with delightful looking pies. The one closet to him didn't have any pieces cut out of it. It was a jovially yellow, lemon meringue.
"A small piece of that pie would be great."
The wolf served the pie and watched as the weary coyote took his first bite.
"How is it?" she asked.
"As good as it looks," assured Frank.
"That's my recipe you know. I cook it up every morning, but you're the only person to ever try any."
"But it's so good."
"I know it's good but no one wants any. Maybe it's too pretty and people don't want to ruin it, or maybe they're worried that it won't live up to their expectations."
"You still make it even though no one eats any?" asked Frank.
"That's right," she said, "I like cooking sometimes. You know with all that's going on today with the atomic bombs hovering over our heads, it's really relaxing to just do a routine. You seem like you're out of your usual routine. Where are you from?"
"Chicago," croaked Frank.
"Seems like you just got done driving non-stop. There's about a hundred miles of bad road out there and you look like it."
"I'll bet."
"Are you out here to gamble?"
Frank shook his head.
"No. No," he said, "not for me really. I'm out here for business."
"And what would that be?" asked the wolf with an inquisitive stare.
Frank produced his wallet and showed his badge. He hated doing that. He would much rather just keep it to himself sometimes.
"I'm a detective, not the private kind. I'm looking for someone who was kidnapped," with this he showed Jamie Lewis' smiling photo, "Seen this girl?"
"No," was the wolf's answer as soon as she saw the picture.
Frank shrugged and put it away.
"Well, there you go," he wearily said, "that's what my life has been like for the last few days."
"I hope you get some leads," said the wolf optimistically, "I'll bet her parents miss her very much."
The ferret rubbed his eyes with his black paws as he made his way in the darkness to the computer room. A military plane passed overhead, making him jump. He had been looking through the telescope for the majority of the night and he was doing nothing but counting stars. Cephus would have certainly fallen asleep, but it was exciting times and he was very concerned.
He felt a little rush as he opened the door to the room which held ORDAC. He had never seen a computer before and it absolutely stunned him. It filled the room with warmth like the breath of a mighty beast. Cephus had thought it was going to glow with the mystical light of a hundred slot machines, but it was silent and powerfully dark. He decided it was the most incredible machine he had ever seen. However, the novelty had worn off on the fox who was keeping watch.
"Is this your first time using ORDAC?" he asked between pants in the oppressively hot room.
"Yes."
"Sign in please," said the fox, "You'll find it easy enough to use, just be gentle alright? There's not many of these things."
Once Cephus had his name down, he got to work picking out the magnetic tape that the astronomy lab used to store their information and carefully put it into the machine. ORDAC started up and Cephus was able to do some simple calculations once he figured out how to enter the numbers. He could easily do it on paper, but who doesn't like to play with a new toy?
"1,295 stars in the photograph," he said out loud, "minus 208 in two days... so that's an average of 104 a day... divide by the original is..."
8.03 PERCENT STAR REDUCTION PER DAY.
"But it wasn't all at once. It accelerated over time. So let me just plug that in..."
TOTAL SKY DARKNESS IN 2.32 DAYS.
Though Cephus nearly jumped out of his seat, he tried to keep a calm head. "Maybe it's just our little patch of sky?" he wondered, "Anyway, there's no point in worrying about the sun disappearing. All I'm seeing is an afterimage. Whatever is happening went on millions of years ago. It already happened, and we're still here. No need to panic."
He slowly got out of the chair and removed the tape to store back on the shelves. He shivered a little as he put it back. Cephus still wasn't calm enough. It would only take a little more for him to have a panic attack, but some deep breaths staved it off. He knew that it would be the last night that only telescopes could see the difference. People had to be noticing this. And when they did, he hoped they would keep calm.
Frank had his back stuck to the ceiling. It was as if he had been sleeping on his stomach when someone dropped the room and watched as it slowly falls down a well. The world was a quarter and someone was using it to make a wish. He decided it was an unnerving position, but one he could tolerate. There was crying, but he felt oddly happy about it. Outside the window, he could see a large red and white, breadbox of an ambulance pull up. The lights were still flashing as the paramedics ran to the door. Even though he was stuck still, he could see out of the corner of his eye that the sun was slowly fading away.
Without warning, everything was much darker. He was staring at the sky again in the desert, but there was another coyote there with him. She was beautiful. Dusty and not as well kept as the city girls, but full of much more experience. She reached her hand into the sky and closed it into a tight fist. There was a patch in the night when she brought it back down. The desert coyote quietly walked over to Frank's immobilized body and crushed the stars in her hand.
Now that she was closer, he could tell that she had been living a hard life. She whispered, "Jackpot," with a muzzle flash breath.
For a moment, Frank though she was going to kiss him. Instead, he saw a glint of mischief in her yellow eyes before she opened her hand and blew the stardust into his face. Instead of sticking to his eyes like sand and burning like he expected, it was oddly soothing.
Frank blinked and coughed, but he soon realized that he was back in his motel room. One look at the clock showed that he had been asleep for ten hours. He had never been so relieved in his life. This is what getting out of prison must feel like.
He noticed with glee that the sun was already up. It was actually a reasonable time for people to be walking around. He got in his truck, feeling very refreshed, and started to drive. Since he was relaxed, Frank was even enjoying the scenery. The desert spread out before him like an endless ocean of sand. It looked different depending on the time of the day. In the morning it was shimmering with pastels and warm shadows, but near dusk it was dark red and mysterious.
He was only half an hour away from the hotel, but he stopped right in the middle of the road. Frank's hackles rose as soon as he saw the sign for the Jackpot Diner. He thought it was fate that the woman in his dream had told him where to eat a late breakfast.
The coyote walked right in and ordered. He was expecting the woman to be there, staring at him from a booth. However, there were no prying eyes. Frank felt so stupid once he was done with it. He had been looking for clues in the menu and trying to taste hints in his coffee, but he had nothing. None of the patrons or employees even resembled the woman from his dream.
Frank took another sad look at his ravaged front bumper out in the parking lot, but as soon as his sensitive paw pads ran over the cracks again, the blue payphone at the edge of the lot started to ring. He was the only one there, and the diner didn't have a telephone; it was meant for him.
Franks heart beat fast as he made his way across the gravel to the payphone with every shrill ring making him even more nervous as it silently rattled the change inside. By the time he had his hand on the receiver, the coyote was chilled. He felt as if the black chunk of plastic was going to bite his face off like a little monster.
"Hello?"
"You should come meet me at the test site," said the pleasant, female voice.
"Who is this?"
"Exactly who you think it is, city boy."
And with that she hung up.
"She couldn't have meant the test site for the A-bomb. No way. It's condemned!" he thought.
It had to be true though. It certainly wasn't policed at all. No one would want to go in and there were almost no roads that lead there. It all made sense now. Frank didn't see the sun crashing into the Earth in his dream. He saw a sun being created. It was a war ending sun and he was heading right into the center of it.
Dr. Sable looked at the frantic paper headlines while he was sitting at the observatory's desk. He just couldn't believe that the media would stoop so low. They were trying to scare people out of their wits with front pages declaring "COMMIE EXPERIMENT GOES RAMPANT" or even "RUSSIAN H-BOMB DESTROYS SPACE".
"What do you think of these Cephus?" he asked.
The younger ferret shook his head slightly at the crudeness of it all. "It's how they make their money Dr. Sable. I guess they have to sensationalize it, or no one reads it."
"This is scaring people. What could they be thinking? Their bombers circle American airspace at all times and we do the same to them. Saying a ridiculous lie like this could make it all come to a head!"
Dr. Sable's ranting about the Cold War was making Cephus nervous. He thought about all of those planes circling the earth and how a single hydrogen bomb would doom the world. Every time the nearby airbase practiced a drill, those sirens would ring out and reach him in his dormitory. He thought that he was going to die that morning when they did another drill.
"Please Dr. Sable, let's not worry about that right now. We should talk about something else."
The fox shook his head. "No," he said "Now is a perfect time to talk about this. You remember when you were in school seeing the P.S.A.s? Burt the Turtle and whatnot? All those little kids hiding under their desks? That's all just to make you more comfortable before you turn to ash. That's bull and you shouldn't believe a bit of it."
Cephus tried to hide a tear. He couldn't take a deep breath, all he managed was a gasp. His small outburst just made Dr. Sable growl and his voice rang out in the dome.
"We are right next to a high-profile target with that airbase you know! You shouldn't be a pantywaist about this boy! When you see that flash, I want you too look away from it Cephus. I want you to look away and keep your mouth open. When the shock passes, all of your fur might be singed off from the heat and light, but I need you to stay calm. Take a shirt or a mask or anything you can find and cover your mouth. Keep your back to a building made out of brick or concrete and you might not receive a lethal dose of radiation."
"Stop-" squeaked Cephus.
"Shut up!" barked the fox as he bared his teeth, "they are going to run triage Cephus. A black tag means that you are dead or expectant. When this happens, I do not want to see a young man like you with a black tag! Do you understand?"
By then, Cephus couldn't talk. He was gasping for air as his heart raced. He had to sit on the floor to keep from falling over. All he could think about was footage he had seen of a Japanese man who had all of his fur blown away. His skin had been scorched and scarred so that it clung to his ribs. You could see his heart beat in his thin and sickly chest. Cephus didn't want to be like that, but he didn't want to die either. He wanted it to all just go away and be forgotten about.
Dr. Sable finally saw what he was doing to his assistant, so he took a different tone. "Are you alright?" he softly asked, "I... I really didn't mean to scare you like that Cephus. I think you're a good kid and I just don't want to see you hurt."
"Just be quiet for a second," Cephus managed to say. He looked up to see Dr. Sable look away in shame. Once he had gotten his breathing down he was little better, though he still had a pit in his stomach. The ferret stood up and brushed himself off. He was feeling well enough, though he was embarrassed about his breakdown.
"I'm sorry," said Cephus, "It's just that I can get really scared by things that I can't control."
Dr. Sable looked back with a shamed face. "It's okay," he said, "I really shouldn't have done that. I'm no better than the papers. I know how you feel sometimes though. I'm not afraid of the dark Cephus. I'm afraid of not being able to see."
As Frank reached the end of the dusty access road, he could see the remains of a campfire and some papers on the ground, which were sure to have traces of LSD on them. He decided that it was probably the work of some hippies that never made it all the way to Hate-Ashbury.
At the end of the road next to a weak and rusted barbed wire fence, stood the coyote from his dream. The hints of brown in her fur were just as gnarled and twisted as the fence, but it only made her more lovely. She was dressed very well and probably lived in Las Vegas or Reno. One look at her opulent jewelry and perfectly manicured claws told Frank that she either owned an establishment there, or was really friendly with someone who did.
The female coyote didn't look anything like what he was expecting. She was supposed to be and Indian or something, not some smoky casino girl. But, as soon as he got close and she first spoke, he knew it was her he had seen in the dream.
"You're my man," she said as she raised a claw to point.
"You're not who I thought I would see," said Frank.
"Aren't you lucky?" she cooed.
"I haven't been very lucky the past few days, but things are looking up."
She grabbed Frank's hand and led him to the fence with its rusty warning signs. She had a cigarette touch. It was so light and smooth that he wouldn't be surprised if he was dreaming again.
"I know a thing or two about luck you know," she bragged, "your roulette wheel has been spinning for the past few days making you dizzy, but ball's about to stop on your number. So tell me city boy, what's your number?"
"Three, red," he offered.
"Then I think you just might live."
They stopped beside the fence and the woman continued.
"Don't worry, the radiation has worn off. People in Hiroshima and Nagasaki still have trouble with their water, but you won't be finding any out there."
"What am I supposed to do?"
The other coyote smiled. "Just sleep," she said, "You're close enough now."
"That's it?"
"That's it," she assured.
Frank turned his back on his fellow coyote and looked out onto the vastness of the desert. It was noon and he would bake for sure. He at least knew that much. Every shimmering wave of heat would find its way under his fur and roast him.
"Do you have any water or food for me?" he asked.
"No."
"But I'll be dead by sundown in this heat!"
"No you won't," she said, "you don't have to take another step on this journey. Even if you don't believe me, you're still going. Am I right?"
Frank thought for a moment, but she was right. He was going to sleep in a radioactive desert. He just couldn't believe it. Nothing made sense anymore. It had to end and he saw only one way to do it.
"Sometimes, you just aren't supposed to understand things," she said.
A single tear rolled down Frank's face, around the side of his muzzle. He didn't know if it was because he was frightened about what was ahead, or sad that it was finally about to end. After a moment, he quietly asked, "Can you read my mind?" even though he was terrified of the answer.
"Only what you want to show. Now, close your eyes," she whispered. It was so soft, like someone blowing cigar smoke into his ear, but the words themselves carried so much weight. He had no choice but to shut out the sight of the lonely and flickering desert waiting behind the twisted fence.
"I can make you forget," she said.
"I'd like that."
There was a shudder in his body. Frank exhaled and let himself drift off, but not before saying the silent prayer that dreamers do. He wanted to wake up after it was done.
"Go to sleep, that's the only way to find it."
Frank opened his eyes for one last look. He was only barely conscious, but he saw the last of the sun setting before the darkest night. No stars but the brightest one. It was easy to just accept it and let it happen.
He took a thousand journeys in his mind; finding every moment of his life. He had to make the stars again just as other coyotes had done before. Everything was open to him. His memories were free to find their places in the heavens. Every breath, every heartbeat, found a point in the sky. They burst open to burn forever.
They made maps of his mind. Nothing would ever end because there was a perfect copy; even better than the original. All of the stars, all of the constellations told a story that no one else could read. He went through and saw, star by star, how the tale was written. The enormity of the plot would drive anyone mad. All of it just made him want for an end. Years were spent in his cold and unfeeling prison of memories until he finally saw it.
There was one last star still burning, a hold-over from the last story and all of the ones previous. Not the biggest, not the brightest, but it had such an important job. It guarded a little blue and green planet that he could hardly remember the name of. The last star held the secret of the end of his story.
Without any hesitation, he leapt into it, his body burning away before he even reached the surface and he was glad to be gone with it. He found his way to the center and saw the answer. It was the very last piece, the one thing no one could change. It had been made at the beginning of time and it consisted of a single, perfect point in time.
Just by knowing of its existence, Frank knew what he had to do and was filled with an unstoppable courage that would corrode his mind until there was nothing left. Everything fit together. It was possible to do it again. He could have his moment.
Once he awoke, all of those years of experience washed away. He had been an old man, but now he was refreshed. He had forgotten all of the pain. Frank turned his head and heard the clicking of insects as he stood up from where he had been sleeping by a gnarled, barbed wire fence. He remembered the smile of a woman in a fancy dress, and how that smile now had a star.
There was still one last thing that he had to do and the will to make it happen burned in his soul. It exploded out of his body like a mighty ocean wave; making anything he wanted as certain as the setting sun. He would have gotten back in his truck, but he didn't have to. The second the idea graced his mind he was already were he wanted to be and more ready than ever to experience the defining seconds of his life.
Detective Frank Moreno stood facing the door of the trailer he had traveled so far to find. All of his days of unrest were about to end.
As he pulled out his revolver and kicked in the door, the roulette wheel slowed its spinning and the ball bounced undecidedly. The tiny kitchen was filled with a hail of gunfire and Frank was barely aware of the flames jumping out the sides of his gun which lightly scorched his fur.
The man at the other end of the room slowly slumped to the floor once the shooting stopped. Frank noticed that the fire in his chest was dying down. Just as he looked, the wheel stopped turning and finally settled on a number. Three red dots were slowly expanding through his shirt.
The bullets inside of him had started to cool off and hurt. He fell to the floor in pain and tried to pull himself across the dirty linoleum to the other side, pushing beer bottles and trash aside.
"Jamie!" Frank called, "Jamie, are you okay?"
He could only hear crying from the other room. Frank rolled onto his back and propped himself up against the cupboards.
"Jamie! Call the police!"
He stayed there for a few minutes. It was getting harder and harder to stay awake. He cried again as a fire in his chest still smoldered, but he couldn't tell whether it was the bullets or something wonderful. As he sat there, Frank could see out the ruined front door.
First a sheriff arrived and told him to drop his gun. The cougar had the same surprised look in his eyes that Frank had seen before. Frank easily let go of the handle since he didn't have a very good grip anymore. The sheriff kicked it away and went into the other room.
"Oh my god," he choked, "Oh my god. Are you all right darlin'? It's all over."
Frank could only take one shuddering breath with the strength he had left. The girl was safe and there was comfort in that knowledge. He had just witnessed his own moment of perfection. If he could remake the night sky again, that single instant could save any soul, right any wrong, and cement a single thought in the stars forever which would burn brighter than a million suns.
It was the release he had needed for days, centuries even. He could see a large, red and white, breadbox of an ambulance pull up. The lights were still flashing as the paramedics ran to help him.