When a Rake Falls by Sally Orr Page A

visualize himself standing on a dais, his audience hanging upon his every word, an unseen laurel crown held high above his head. “If I give the speech, you can tell me the important scientific bits, and I can give the speech for you. All with your approval, of course.”
    â€œI don’t know what my father will say about that.”
    â€œHe must agree. I have seen the sun dogs in person, and he hasn’t.”
    â€œFirsthand observation is an important point.”
    â€œThis calls for a celebration.” He took both of her hands and pulled her forward to dance a little jig.
    She watched him perform a few steps, then she too joined in with a couple of hesitant steps.
    The balloon swayed more dramatically than ever before, so they immediately stopped dancing. “We’ll dance a jig when we land,” he said. “Or maybe now, but not so vigorously?”
    She grinned before returning to her instruments. “Please excuse me from further celebrations. I must immediately record the conditions when the suns were observed.” After she finished jotting down her notes in the Results book, she reached into her coat pocket and withdrew a few feathers. These were tossed into the air, then studied as they sailed up and over the edge of the balloon. The wind had dropped off, so she made a note. When finished, she moved to stand beside him.
    His spirits became uncommonly light, and together they watched the two extra suns shrink and fade, their tails of light fading with the approach of sunset. The day’s end gave him a new sense of joyous calm. All was right with the world, and tomorrow could only be better. He slipped his arm around her shoulder and was mildly surprised when she did not pull away.
    They stood and witnessed the sky change from blue, to orange, and finally to gray. They remained side by side until nightfall, when the stars began to reveal their presence.
    He sighed. For one of the few times in his life, a song would only interrupt his feeling of calm bliss. “Have you ever seen anything so fine? The stars are like living sparks tossed upon an inky vault.”
    Her nose gained a few wrinkles on the top. “Stars appear a bright white in rarefied air, and the atmosphere appears a darker black.”
    â€œWhite, black? No, no, you’re wrong.” He swung his free arm in a wide arc. “Living sparks floating upward to heaven through the abyss of an inky vault.”
    â€œI believe my statement contained factual information—white stars, black sky.”
    He gave her a one-arm hug. “You need to learn how to sing.”
    â€œI can sing, thank you.” Pulling free from his embrace, she rummaged in one of the wooden boxes, and lifted out a patent safety lamp and a thick oilcloth lined with wool. She tossed him the oilcloth, then lit the lamp.
    â€œReally,” he said, “I am not cold. Well, I am cold, but dash it all, the blanket goes to the lady.”
    She sat and the finger-pointing returned. “Listen. Our chances of survival improve if we keep warm. If your hands get cold, you will not be able to hold on to a rope thrown by your rescuers. And if your whole body gets too cold, you will expire.”
    â€œExpire.” He exhaled. “Right, but I still refuse. The blanket goes to the lady first.”
    This time she let out a loud and protracted sigh. “Do you know how to huddle?”
    After their shared experience of that lovely sunset, he had become so fond of his plucky miss, he would enjoy the chance to embrace her in a huddle. “Yes, yes, I can huddle, snuggle, cuddle, and nuzzle. Indeed, I am particularly good at all of those.”
    â€œI don’t need you to do all of those—especially nuzzle. Just a simple huddle will be satisfactory.” She sat on the floor of the basket and arranged the oilcloth around her shoulders.
    He pulled a wool hunting cap from his sack, covered his head, and sat next to her.