Short Story Sunday: The Compass Star (For Mothers and Daughters Everywhere)

Every night, before she went to bed, Laura looked out of her window at the sky. Her mother, recognising the routine, would fall into the pattern of their conversation.

“What are you looking for, darling?”

“My Compass Star.”

“Any luck tonight?”

“No. But it’s out there.”

“Turn out the light when you’re done looking. Sleep well.”

“Night, Mom.”

When she was older, and Laura’s mother was no longer around to put her to bed, her habit persisted. At university, no matter where she was – or how raucous the party had been – she continued her study of the skyscape. Her varsity boyfriend, Impatient Brian, who specialised in marketing, tried to encourage her to study astronomy so that she would know what she was seeing. Laura declined. There was Orion’s belt and the Southern Cross and the rest was just a mystery – which was completely OK by her. When she found what she was looking for, she’d know. It was that simple. Some nights, when she felt like giving up, she’d see a glimmer of light and her heart would pound expectantly, restoring her hope and her belief in the Compass Star. Perching on the bed, planting her elbows on the sill and resting her chin on her palms, Laura would find herself sighing. It always seemed so close and yet so far away.

The man she married, Lovely Ben, found her search quirky and gave her the time she needed to gaze at the sky before joining him in the cocoon of their bed. During the late nights and early mornings of their child-rearing days, Laura took comfort in the sparkles that dragged the earth back to morning. 

On their daughter’s fifth birthday, Laura was confronted with a question she didn’t expect.

“Mummy?”

“Yes, love?”

“How do you know the Compass Star is in the sky?”

Laura looked up from where she was tidying the kitchen. Her mind imploded, shattering the belief she’d held for as long as she could remember. She walked around the counter, gathered her daughter in her arms and sank into the couch.

“What do you mean, Lizzy?”

“You keep looking for it every night and you don’t find it. Maybe it’s not out there.”
“It has to be, love. Where else could it be?”

Lizzy placed a hand on Laura’s chest, sure of her stance. “In here, Mummy. The only place you didn’t look.”

With a touch of lips to Laura’s cheek, Lizzy slipped off her lap, picked up her doll, Fairy Sarah, and went to her bedroom. Laura could not bring herself to move or end the moment. From the kitchen window, the night beckoned her, whispering promises that this would be the occasion when she’d find her heart’s desire. But her enthusiasm was gone. Her daughter was right. Everything she’d ever needed, ever looked for, she already had. It suddenly seemed so obvious. She stood up, and walked down the passage to Lizzy’s room. Lizzy was talking to Fairy Sarah about Cinderella, which she’d watched earlier.

“Must I go to sleep, Mummy?”

“Not yet.” Laura’s eyes brimmed. “I came to tell you something.” She perched on the bed. “I think you were right about my Compass Star.”

“Ok.”

“But I think I have finally found it. Right under my nose.”

“Where?”

Laura stroked Lizzy’s cheek. “In you. You give my life meaning. When I was a girl, looking for my star, I think I was waiting to meet you. And I think that, one day, when you have a daughter, you’ll find your star in her too.”

“Ok, Mummy.” Her brow wrinkled. “Fairy Sarah is sleepy now, so we have to stop talking.”

“Yes, you’re right.” She kissed her temple. “Goodnight Lizzy. Goodnight Fairy Sarah.” She turned on the nightlight, which cast galaxies on the wall, and walked to the door. Laura watched Lizzy snuggle her doll and whispered: “Goodnight, Compass Star.”