Paper stars

A good day

Little Bibi Bené couldn’t sleep.

She tossed and turned in her pod. Tiny paper stars hung above her, swaying gently. Bibi had drawn a face on each one. Most smiled, those were for the happy days, but some frowned, too.

Every day Bibi was awake, she made a new star and Mumi always hung it up for her. This made Bibi happy, even on sad days when the rusty old ship was scary and creaked extra loud.

Bibi could remember the day for each and every star. Days running in empty greenhouses, her giggles and footsteps bouncing off dusty glass. Days climbing through empty cargo pods, pretending they were metal mountains. Days shouting at the ship’s shaky hull, yelling at the Big Empty outside, but it was always too scared to come in and fight her. And days splashing in the cooling ponds, imagining they were vast oceans like in the crinkly old books. Sometimes she fell in and got wet, but she always kept trying.

“I’m good at not giving up,” Bibi whispered. Mumi always said so, and Mumi knew everything.

Something below clanged and red lights blinked up through the floor. Bibi peeked down and saw Mumi working with wires and pipes. Mumi’s long body moved smoothly, her hands a blur.

“Mumi?” Bibi called softly.

“Yes, child.” Mumi’s voice click-click-clicked more than usual tonight. She stopped working and tilted her head to listen.

“I can’t sleep,” said Bibi. She twisted a small knot into her covers. “I’m hungry.”

Mumi laughed, a sound like tiny kisses. “Surely you’re tired, Bibi Bené. In a few days it’ll be time for a Big Sleep. Tonight is just a little one. Say the words, and sleep will come.”

Bibi yawned. “Yes, Mumi.” But she wondered about the Big Sleep. Mumi said she made food during the Big Sleeps. Bibi didn’t know how, but whenever she woke up, there was food.

Bibi tried to sleep, but couldn’t. A soft cry came from below. Bibi slipped out of her pod and tiptoed downstairs. The metal floor was cold on her feet.

Mumi stood by the blinking lights. A single flower sat in a pot next to her. Mumi said it was the last one. Bibi had never seen Mumi so still before. She looked like a tall flower herself with a dress full of holes. Red light blinked and blipped through the holes, making funny shapes on the walls and wires and pipes.

“Are your stars sad today?” Bibi asked, touching Mumi’s dress. It hummed softly in her fingers.

“Bibi Bené, you’re not asleep,” said Mumi.

Bibi giggled. Her fingers found a hole in Mumi’s dress.

“They are …” Mumi’s voice click-click-clicked, “happy stars.”

Bibi thought red lights meant something was wrong. She was glad it didn’t.

“This pretty star means you get a surprise. Tonight is a Big Sleep, after all.”

Well, that didn’t sound like fun. Air rustled her hair, tugging it.

“And when you wake up, there will be more surprises.”

“What kind?” Bibi couldn’t imagine.

“Well,” Mumi clicked, “flowers and food and people, too.”

Bibi gasped. She spun around with her arms out wide. “People! Like me?”

“Quickly now.”

She ran back to her pod and jumped in, squeezing her eyes shut so tight the red light leaked through. She had to say the words right away.

Now I lay me down to sleep. I pray the stars my soul to keep. And if I should forget to wake …

But Bibi couldn’t stop thinking about people. Outside, dust tapped on the ship, louder and louder, and air rustled the paper stars above her pod like crazy.

Mumi was by her side very fast, her long arms reaching up to the paper stars to keep them from blowing away. Their shadows moved across Bibi’s face.

Bibi felt warmth through the holes in Mumi’s dress.

“Oh!” said Mumi, looking at the red flashing lights through the floor. “We can’t forget the most important part of the day, but you have to hurry.”

Bibi got her paper and made a new star. It had the biggest smile ever. One more Big Sleep and when she woke up there would be people.

Mumi hung the star higher than all the rest. “It’s time, Bibi Bené.”