#quartz-candles

Mom pointed to the large hawk soaring above the cottage. “Look, Kit. Isn’t it beautiful?"

Kit glanced skyward.

"So what?" she said sullenly. "It's just a bird." She turned her back and began to walk away.

"Kit? Where are you going?"

"Nowhere." Kit kept walking.

"Hold on, Kit. It's nearly lunch time. I want you to stay close to the cottage for now."

Kit took two more steps, then stopped as her little brother, Eugene, dashed out of the bushes beside the cottage. He came straight at her, arms outstretched.

"Hey, Kit, look what I found."

Carefully, he uncupped his hands. But not carefully enough. A bumpy brown toad leapt out just as Kit bent down to look.

"You brat," she hissed, jumping back.

"But, Kit, I never did it on purpose. Come on. Help me catch it again, will you?"

"You wish. Catch your own stupid toads--and keep them far away from me." Kit turned on her heel and stomped away.

"You're no fun anymore," Eugene yelled as he headed back behind the cottage, hot on the trail of the escaping amphibian.

His words pierced Kit with a guilt that nearly stopped her in her tracks. She knew she was acting like a jerk, but this knowledge just made her angrier- -with herself and everybody else.

She hadn't asked to be included in the family's vacation at the cottage. In fact, she'd begged to stay behind in town, where she could watch TV, hang out with her friends and have some fun.

Kit kept walking. She wanted a space of her own, away from the rest of the family. She started to jog, then broke into a run.

"Kit, wait." she heard her mother call. Kit ignored her and kept running until she reached the cover of a nearby willow grove.

From her vantage point under the drooping branches, Kit watched her parents walk back to the picnic table and sit down. Eugene was already seated, getting a head start on the sandwiches.

"Guess who's missing from the happy holiday picture?" Kit muttered angrily. They're just fine, she thought. They can have lots of fun without me.

Turning away, she began to work her way through the willow branches. When she broke through to the other side of the grove, she took a deep breath and took off across the vast expanse of meadow that lay before her.

Kit ran and ran. She ran until her breathing was so harsh and shallow that she could run no more. She slowed to a jog, but finally had to stop. Gasping, she bent over, hands on her knees, and tried to catch her breath.

Gradually, the pounding in her chest lessened, and the pain in her side eased. She straightened up slowly and looked back the way she'd come. Far off, to the right, she could still see the dark outline of the woods ringing the lake, but she could barely pick out the cottage and the willow grove beside it.

Not far enough. I can still see it, Kit thought, and decided to keep going. "Until I don't have to see anyone or anything," she said aloud as she set off once more, this time at an easy jog.

She had no idea how long she'd been running when she started to pay attention to her surroundings again. The first thing she noticed was that the sun was no longer directly overhead. She could still feel its powerful rays on the back of her neck and shoulders, but it was definitely lower in the sky. Her lengthening shadow told her that.

Glancing down, she realized that the ground had changed, too. The soft meadow grasses were gone and, underfoot, dried weeds and withering wild strawberry plants crunched and crackled.

The sun's cooking you too, she mused, looking at the brown and red leaves clinging to a sandy patch of ground before her. Suddenly, a quick shadow streaked across her path. Kit turned and squinted over her shoulder into the sky.

Oh, it's you, she thought as she picked the large black hawk out of the sun's glare. Who invited you along? Go back to my mother. She's the bird lover, not me. Aloud she added, "This is my spot. Mine, you hear."

The realization that she had actually shouted these words left Kit feeling more than a little foolish.

Thank goodness no one is around to hear, she thought. But the words had struck a memory chord. Kit stopped walking and looked around again. Hey, maybe this really is my place, she thought, recalling the game she'd invented when she was little. She flopped onto the ground, thinking that she might finally be able to win it here.

Kit stretched out, her hands clasped under her neck, and began to move her eyes in every direction while keeping her head perfectly still.

"Nearly," she said, sitting up and yanking at a tall clump of chicory that had managed to survive the heat and sand. "Sorry, but you have to go." she announced. Then she lay back down and looked around again.

That's better, she thought. This place has definite possibilities. Then she saw the hawk again.

"Go away," she ordered. "This is my place. You're wrecking the game."

The hawk lingered briefly, suddenly swooped lower, then soared high and faded into the cloudless sky.

Finally, Kit thought. Nobody and nothing. I've finally found my empty place.

Her thoughts drifted back to the summer six years ago when she'd started her search for this place. That year, her family had spent their vacation at her uncle's farm. One day, lying on the roof of the cowshed with her cousins, Kit had found herself staring into an empty, clear blue sky. She had lain outside many times before flat on her back on the apartment balcony, in the wading pool at the park, and even in the schoolyard. But this time was different.

This time, nothing, absolutely nothing had broken her view of the sky-no birds, no branches, no awnings, not even a hydro pole or telephone line. Suddenly, she'd been overwhelmed by the vast emptiness.

This is fun, she'd thought. It's like being all alone in the middle of nowhere, even though I'm really not. It felt good, being in the empty place she'd just discovered.

Keeping her head still, she'd let her eyes wander to the left. Still nothing. Once again, all she could see was blue. When she'd looked to the right, though, a tall tree had intruded into the blueness. Then two crows had risen squawking from the garden, flying directly into view, and the spell had been broken.

But the excitement of that moment had lingered. Several times that summer, she'd searched for a place where she could lie down, look up and around and see nothing but sky. It became a kind of game for her. She'd flop down, cushion her head with her hands, and try out a new place. But, no matter where she tried out the view, something a tree or a bird or a single power line always got in the way.

There was no point even trying on cloudy days. She would not allow the smallest wisp of white to drift by. That was against the rules, rules she'd come up with after that time on the cowshed roof. Only the sun was allowed. She couldn't look right at it anyway, so it didn't count. But anything else would break the spell cast by the emptiness.

When her cousins began to tease her about Iying around all the time, just staring at the sky, she quickly learned to seek out her empty place only when she was alone. She came close sometimes, but she never did find it that summer.

When she returned to the city, thoughts of her summer quest faded. Once, in the winter, she had tried again at the park, after an unusually heavy snowfall. The sun was shining brightly and the park was blanketed in white. She lay down in the snow and looked all around but, try as she might, she could never eliminate the nearby highrises from the picture. No matter where she went in the park, she could still see at least one.

The next summer Kit gave up her search. She was lying with two of her friends on the teeter-tot-ters in the park. The three of them were just lying there saying nothing, staring up at the sky.

When she asked them if they ever tried to find a place where they could see absolutely nothing but the sky, they looked at her as if she had grown antennae. "You're nuts, Kit," one of them had said.

Embarrassed, Kit had vowed never to think about the stupid game again.

But here she was, two years later, absolutely spellbound because there was nothing, absolutely nothing, in sight. This is amazing, she thought Nothing and nobody. Just what I wanted. I wonder how long it will last.

Now that she knew it was possible to find such a place, a new rule began to take shape in her mind. Once I find it, I can't move until something invades it, she thought.

"But that won't take long," she added aloud. "Something always comes along."

Kit lay still, staring upward at the seamless blue canopy, waiting for that something— a plane, a cloud, a bee buzzing by. She waited and waited, but nothing intruded into her empty place.

"Amazing," she repeated softly, relishing the moment.

Then her neck began to itch. Bet I've got a sunburn, she found herself thinking. Hope Mom brought the Noxzema. Don't be silly. Mom always remembers to bring the Noxzema. And the sun block...

Mom always remembers the air mattress, too. And a brand new jigsaw puzzle. Always a new puzzle. Wonder how many pieces this one will have? And the new game? What'll it be? Balder-dash? I'll bet that's it. Have to wait to find out, though. It has to be a surprise...

KIt realized she was looking forward to finding out which games Mom had brought along. Okay, so maybe doing puzzles and playing games with the family isn't so bad, she thought. Maybe I won't be bored totally out of my mind.

Kit scanned the empty sky again. Her neck was getting stiff and she wanted to stand up and brush away the sand that was starting to make her skin itch. Okay, I've had enough. Time for something to break into the emptiness. Time to go home.

"Come out, come out, wherever you are," she called.

Maybe I goofed. Maybe I can see something, she thought, and forced her eyes from side to side as far as they could go. But she'd picked her spot well. Without turning her head, she couldn't see past the sandy patch where she had flopped down.

How long have I been here? she wondered. A long time. Shouldn't have pulled out that plant. Then I could have seen it—and I could have got up. Maybe I'lI cheat. Turn my head a bit. I'm sure there was some tall grass just past the strawberry leaves. I remember that.

She checked the sky one last time. Empty.

That's it, then. Time's up, she decided, and turned her head to the side. No tall grass there. She turned the other way. There was nothing there either.

“That's weird." Kit said softly. I was sure it was there she thought. Oh well, I moved my head so the game's over anyway. I may as well get up.

Kit sat up and looked around. She rubbed her eyes and looked again. Impossible, she thought, and scrambled to her feet.

She stared in disbelief. For as far as she could see, there was absolutely nothing, nothing but the occasional wild strawberry runner clinging to the dry brown ground. It was as if the spot had spread around her until it met the sky. The sweat trickling down her neck felt suddenly cold. It sent stiver up her spine.

For a long time, Kit stood transfixed. Then she began to turn slowly, desperately scanning the horizon for anything that would help her get her bearings. She became frantic, looking—and looking again--for a familiar landmark. All she could see was acres of sand meeting the endless blue of the empty sky.

Feeling dizzy, she stopped turning and looked up again. The sun still shone, but it was much lower in the sky. Still, it couldn't help her. She had no idea whether the cottage lay north, south, east or west.

She wanted to run again. But she didn't know which way to go. For the second time that day, Kit began to cry. Sobbing, she felt very lost and alone.

She had no idea how much time had passed when she began to notice the breeze brushing against her tears. Gentle at first, it grew stronger with each gust. Thick white clouds edged with gray began to roll in, gobbling up the blue. Kit's heart raced. She could smell the approaching storm. Run, her mind screamed. Run. Run. Run.

Kit started to run, then turned and began to run in the opposite direction. "Which way? Which way?" she yelled into the terrible emptiness. Despairing, she stopped again, choking back her sobs.

It was then that she saw it. It was only a speck at first, a pinpoint of black in one of the last remaining patches of blue. When it disappeared behind a cloud, Kit thought she'd imagined it. But, seconds later, it was back, soaring and diving, its widespread wings riding the wind. Closer and closer it came, until it was directly overhead. It hovered for a moment, suspended in space. Then, with a mighty flap of its wings, it veered sharply back into the wind, struggling to return the way it had come.

Suddenly Kit realized where it had come from-and she knew where it was going. The voice inside her head became a chorus. Run. Run. Run. Kit began to run again, this time after the hawk.