Page 35 of Chasing Stardust

I scoop a magazine from the front passenger seat and climb in, unloading the drinks into the car’s cup holders before setting the empty carrier in the back seat. Taking extra care not to scuff the white leather upholstery, I slide my tote between my feet. While Dash buckles himself in, I flip through the magazine’s wrinkled pages. From what I can tell, Tattle Tale is a little bit Rolling Stone and a whole lot National Enquirer, leaning heavily on salacious rock and roll news. Basically, the same tabloid garbage found in grocery checkout lines.

I recite the first heading that draws my attention. “Which heavy metal guitarist has the biggest—”

Face flaming the same bright red as the car, Dash snatches the magazine from my fingers and flings it into the back.

I bite back a grin. “A little trashy for a guy who reads On the Road for fun, don’t you think?”

“It’s not . . . I wasn’t—”

“It’s not . . . you weren’t . . . what?”

He shifts his gaze skyward and blows out a breath. “Would you believe me if I said it’s my mother’s?”

I snicker. “Definitely not.”

“Yeah, I figured.” Dash rolls his eyes and punches the ignition button. The car whirs to life, sounding more like a spaceship than a car, and we ease out of the lot.

After a quick pit stop at Mack’s for my charger, we hop on the highway and head toward Memphis with the most glorious, ice-cold AC pouring from the vents.

10

Starman

With my iPhone finally up and running, I set out to retake control of my destiny. After gaining access to my bank account—though, sadly neither my debit nor credit card—I manage to track down Ernie and my backpack, thanks to a nice lady at the dairy company. But with my clothes officially en route to Mack’s Garage, fate swoops in like an evil harpy and rips the rug right out from under me again.

“Damn it.” A wave of sadness rolls over me as I scroll the Wiki page for Memphis.

“What’s wrong?” Dash snickers. “Battery die already, or did you lose signal again?”

“No, smart-ass.” I release a defeated sigh. “They demolished Ellis Auditorium in 1999. Where am I supposed to take the picture now?”

Dash leans in and reads over my shoulder, surrounding me with his rosemary-and-clean-laundry scent. “That sucks. It was practically a historical landmark.”

Hot breath fans across my neck, sending a delicious tingle down my spine. “Eyes on the road, Dash.”

“We’re good. The Tesla has autonomous driving.” He says autonomous as if it’s synonymous with magic.

With visions of ninja armadillos dancing through my head, I shoot him an icy glare. “I don’t know what that means.”

“It’s basically autopilot.” He turns his attention back to the road, dramatically gripping the wheel at ten and two. “Happy?”

“Yes. Thank you.” Flashing him an obnoxious smile, I continue my frustrating search.

He shakes his head and circles back to the original topic. “Did they replace it or just tear down the old one?”

“There’s a shiny new auditorium in its place, but that’s not where Mom had her picture taken.”

Just like with Cleveland, Mom documented all the places she went and things she did while in Memphis. All but one of those is still there—the place from her photo. And as far as I can tell, nothing of the old auditorium remains. “How am I supposed to re-create a photo in a place that doesn’t exist anymore?”

“We’ll figure it out.” Dash hovers, studying the picture of Mom. “She was beautiful.”

“She was.” I trace the lines of her neck and shoulder with my finger. My head used to fit in that spot. From as far back as I can remember, after every bad dream or any time I was sick, I’d snuggle into the crook of Mom’s neck to fall asleep. Even after she got sick, she did her best to be a shoulder for me whenever I needed one. Near the end, she was simply too frail. “My sister looks just like her.”

Dash clears his throat, and I catch him staring at me.

“I think you look like her,” he says.

A shiver runs through me, and I tug my hair forward like a shield. “We have—had—the same hair.” I coil a thick lock around my finger. “But Jeanie’s her clone in every other way.”