They see him at one of the class tables, bent over a puzzle, wrapped in silence. If only they knew what he was thinking. If only he could tell them. Mrs. Crow settles into the rocking chair and opens the book. Her students sit before her in a circle, their faces turned upward, their mouths open as they gaze at the pages before them.
Some stars are bigger than our sun.
They're called red giants. Some stars are smaller than our sun. They hold still, absorbing every word, each illustration. They are so rapt, they do not even notice as Mrs. St. Clair moves around the room, making sure that all their shoes are tied. Some stars get very old, and they explode, boom, like a firecracker.