Free Secret Star by Nancy Springer

blew out the candle and stood in the dark thinking, trying to figure out how much to believe. She wanted to believe whatever Daddy said—but how could she anymore? There was too much he wasn’t telling her.
    That night after she finally got to sleep she had the nightmare again and tried to see it through. But it got all mixed up with Butch somehow and she woke up knowing nothing except that she wanted Kam, she needed to see Kam, he was the only one she could really talk with, she had to see him, and how could she? She was grounded.
    In the morning things went both better and worse than Tess expected. Better because Daddy had French toast ready when she got up, with syrup made from brown sugar. Tess knew what this meant: she was forgiven. “I was crabby last night when you came in,” he said as she sat down to eat, which meant she wasn’t grounded after all and was about as close as he ever got to apologizing.
    â€œIt’s all right,” Tess said, and for a moment it was.
    â€œHad a bad day yesterday,” Daddy explained. “And it seems like you’re never around anymore to help me out.”
    She looked at him with her mouth full of French toast and grew aware that French toast was nothing but soggy flabby bread sweetened with sugar water. “What kind of bad day?”
    â€œMy chest hurt. I had to push on over to Millers’ for help, and for a couple minutes I felt like me and Ernestine weren’t going to make it.”
    Tess stopped chewing and sat there staring at him.
    â€œJust angina, the doc says. But now we got doc bills, and a whiz-bang emergency room bill, and a new kind of pill bill, and you wouldn’t believe how much them suckers cost. And the Medicare don’t cover all of it.”
    Chewing again, she didn’t taste the food, and her stomach felt like something heavy had just landed in it: all the things Daddy hadn’t said.
    Like, there was never going to be enough money for anything, no matter how much she worked at the IGA.
    Like, the more she grew up and got herself a life, the more he was going to be alone.
    Like, he was afraid of dying. He was feeling old and afraid.
    He said, “I’m starting to think we’re going to have to unload this place after all, Tess. Get an apartment in town someplace where there’ll be people around and I can get to the doctors’ offices and the welfare offices and maybe I can find some kind of job.”
    Welfare? Apartment? Move in town? But—this was home. There were trees out back, hills, room to breathe. Deer, wildcats, hawks, red foxes in the rocks. Anyhow, they had just cleaned the cistern. Her voice came out a whisper when she said to Daddy, “You’re giving up. Don’t give up.”
    Move in town? You could barely even see the stars at night in town.
    â€œGot to, Tess. I’m getting up there, I gotta be realistic. But you’re young, you shouldn’t be worrying about an old poop like me, you should be going to school—”
    â€œOh, right.” She got up and headed outside and walked into the woods so she wouldn’t have to hear any more of this.
    It had rained overnight. Little white starflowers, so dainty they were practically see-through, were coming up from the black mossy ground like a promise. They didn’t help. She tried playing “Secret Star” in her mind.
    In this dirty world
    you can’t see far
but you gotta believe
    there’s a secret star
    But she couldn’t believe anymore. There was no secret star for people like Daddy and her. They were dug into a hole so deep she couldn’t see a twinkle of light. There was no way out. They would never get the electricity back, or the phone. No amount of working at a minimum-wage job would ever pay the bills. Next the house would go. They were just sliding down, down, like in a coal chute. Might as well give it up and live in a cowshed like Kam.

8
    It was her day off, Sunday,