That night her son was thefirst star.
She stood motionless in thegarden, one hand pressed againsther heart, watching him riseabove the fields where he hadplayed as a boy, where he hadworked as a young man; and shewondered whether he was thinkingof those fields now, whetherhe was thinking of her standingalone in the April night with hermemories; whether he wasthinking of the verandahedhouse behind her, with its emptyrooms and silent halls, that onceupon a time had been his birthplace.
Higher still and higher herose in the southern sky, andthen, when he had reached hiszenith, he dropped swiftly downpast the dark edge of the Earthand disappeared from sight. Aboy grown up too soon, ridinground and round the world ona celestial carousel, encased inan airtight metal capsule in anairtight metal chariot ...
Why don't they leave the starsalone? she thought. Why don'tthey leave the stars to God?
The general's second telegramcame early the next morning:Explorer XII doing splendidly.Expect to bring your son downsometime tomorrow.
She went about her work asusual, collecting the eggs andallocating them in their cardboardboxes, then setting off inthe station wagon on her Tuesdaymorning run. She had expecteda deluge of questionsfrom her customers. She was notdisappointed. "Is Terry reallyway up there all alone, Martha?""Aren't you scared, Martha?" "Ido hope they can get him backdown all right, Martha." Shesupposed it must have giventhem quite a turn to have theiregg woman change into a starmother overnight.
She hadn't expected the TV interview,though, and she wouldhave avoided it if it had beenpolitely possible. But what couldshe do when the line of cars andtrucks pulled into the drive andthe technicians got out and startedsetting up their equipment inthe backyard? What could shesay when the suave young mancame up to her and said, "Wewant you to know that we're allvery proud of your boy up there,ma'am, and we hope you'll do usthe honor of answering a fewquestions."
Most of the questions concernedTerry, as was fitting.From the way the suave youngman asked them, though, she gotthe impression that he was tryingto prove that her son wasjust like any other averageAmerican boy, and such justdidn't happen to be the case. Butwhenever she opened her mouthto mention, say, how he used tostudy till all hours of the night,or how difficult it had been forhim to make friends because ofhis shyness, or the fact that hehad never gone out for football—whenevershe started to mentionany of these things, thesuave young man was in greathaste to interrupt her and totwist her words, by requestioning,into a different meaningaltogether, till Terry's behaviorpattern seemed to coincide withthe behavior pattern which thesuave young man apparently consideredthe norm, but which, iffollowed, Martha was sure,would produce not young menbent on exploring space butyoung men bent on exploringtrivia.
A few of the questions concernedherself: Was Terry heronly child? ("Yes.") What hadhappened to her husband? ("Hewas killed in the Korean War.")What did she think of the newlaw granting star mothers toppriority on any and all informationrelating to their sons? ("Ithink it's a fine law ... It's toobad they couldn't have shownsimilar humanity toward thewar mothers of World War II.")
It was late in the afternoonby the time the TV crew goteverything repacked into theircars and trucks and made theirdeparture. Martha fixed herselfa light sup