Page 50 of Murder

I’m almost to it when I notice the left sheet of glass seems to have a hole at the bottom, near the seat’s padding.

Another step and I can it’s not a hole; it’s a little electronic panel of some kind, looking at first glance like a smaller version of the black Wii U box. One more step, and the low lamplight reveals the box to be a giant, T-Rex-sized pair of goggles. I climb up onto the seat’s padding and pull them out of the window—or rather, off a little shelf I can now see they’re sitting on—and watch, confused, as they trail a small, plastic-looking tube in from outside the window.

“It’s some kind of fiber optics,” Barrett says, coming up to stand behind me. “He had it set up so the telescope is on the roof and sends the image through that little tube that runs from telescope to goggles.”

I blink down at the goggles. “How random. And cool. I want to see.”

I turn them over, but I have no clue how to make them work, so when Barrett climbs up onto the padded cushion beside me, I hand them to him.

I watch his brows notch as he looks down at them, pressing a few buttons. He brings them up over his eyes, and I see his lips twitch.

“Nice,” he says, passing them to me. “Tell me what you see.”

I pull the goggles to my eyes and almost gasp.

“Is that— It looks like…the Milky Way? Like, the whole of it, right?”

It’s disconcerting to see such a vast view of the sky while sitting cross-legged on a padded seat. I blink a few times, awe-struck by the lovely spread of stars and soft light against the black of space. Maybe I wobble a little, because I feel Barrett’s hands on my shoulders, and I’m aware of being laid down. I pull the goggles off my face and see my head is on a long pillow that lines the bottom of glass pane that juts farthest out.

“I think you’re meant to lie down like that.” He’s right; there’s plenty of room for me to rest my head up against the top window pane, my legs out with the knees bent, so my shoes are against the cushion.

My eyes fly from the space beside me to Barrett, and then I put the goggles back over my eyes.

“There’s a manual downstairs that I’ve been thumbing through. When you want to see a different view, just let me know.”

I pull the goggles down. “What are my options?”

He takes them from me, punches a few buttons, and passes them back with a funny little smile.

I bring them to my eyes and find a molten-looking image that, though stained dark amber, I am sure must be the sun.

“Please tell me I don’t see that thing…moving.” I swallow hard, and Barrett laughs.

“You mean the surface of it?”

I struggle not to shudder. “Yes.”

I’m tempted to pull the goggles away from my face, because something about seeing the sun’s shifting surface makes me want to hurl.

“I think that’s supposed to be the fun part.” Barrett laughs.

“It’s…creepish. It looks kind of like… What are those little lines? It almost looks like geysers shooting up.”

“Sun spots? Or solar flares? Haywood had a long monologue written out on cue cards.” He laughs again. “Kind of like a tour of space. I guess he would go through it while guests looked through the goggles like you’re doing.”

I peek out from behind the goggles. “Do you remember any of it?”

“Some.”

Or maybe all. I remember how he didn’t have to write my phone number down on the porch that night as Barrett gives me what I’m sure must be Haywood’s geeky guided solar system tour, verbatim. The wording doesn’t sound like his, and sometimes after dropping a hardcore nerdy fact on me, I think I can hear him smirking.

I find myself giggling around Jupiter. A second later, I feel Barrett’s big hand on my knee. I draw the goggles away from my eyes and find him looking at me with arched brows and a shaming look.

“Are you laughing at your celestial tour guide?”

I wrap my hand around his. “Maybe.”

I’m hoping he’ll lie down beside me. Instead he moves his hand and changes my view again, zooming out so I can see the big dipper. About which he knows all the things.

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