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St. Gabriel's church - 198x
Mark had been an altar boy for a couple of months now, and despite all the complaints from his mom about not overworking himself, Mark kind of liked it. It felt... important, in a way. Like he was part of something that wasn’t just for kids his age.
When the priests talked to him, they didn’t treat him like a kid, and Mark felt so cool. But in exchange, he couldn’t hang out with Cesar during the services and was late to the park afterward, leaving only an hour to play before they had to go home. Plus, Sarah made sure to tell him he looked stupid in his white robe.
But when he stood at the altar, watching the ends of the congregation, it felt like all the work he done was outweighed the means. It made him feel responsible, and he really liked that feeling!
This Sunday he was given a special duty. He had to make rounds around the church and get rid of any stragglers. He shuffled towards the courtyard, the last of the stragglers—that he politely reminded that it was time to go home—filing out as the final hymns echoed.
He wiped his forehead with the back of his hand, already feeling the burn of a long, draining day. He looked up, his eyes narrowing when he spotted a short figure on the church rooftop, using the cross thingy on the roof as a support. Someone hadn’t gotten the message that it was time to leave, or that only the adults were allowed to work on the rooftop.
Mark skipped towards the ladder to go to the rooftop, preparing his rehearsed message to this certain straggler: 'Hi! You're probably not allowed on the rooftop, and it's time to go home. So please do. God bless you!'
He huffed as he hoisted himself onto the roof, his legs aching with the pulse of yearning to go home. The sun long gone in the night horizon was evidence his bedtime was soon.
It wasn’t one of the stragglers, though. It was Cesar, sitting cross-legged like it was the most natural thing in the world. But, something about him looked sad; Mark didn't talk much, but he made up for it with empathy. Convenient for this exact situation, among others!
Cesar was looking up to the sky, his face tilted sharply upward like he saw something else entirely. Or maybe the answers to their math homework. He seemed to flinch as he noticed Mark, but quickly softened, but he was silent. Weird for him.
Mark snapped his head upwards. He didn't see anything but a bunch of stars.
“Cesar!” Mark called out. “What are you doing up here? You’re not supposed to be on the roof!” Cesar turned his head slowly, his usual lopsided smile forming. “Oh, hey Mark. Didn’t see you there!”
“You’ve got to stop doing this,” Mark said with his hands on his hips in mock superiority, though it didn’t sound all that serious. That act earned him an empty chuckle. He wasn’t really mad—just surprised that Cesar of all people was here at this time.
Mark balanced himself as he stood behind Cesar— there wasn't enough room on the flat roof for the both of them, most of it being pointed upwards. Cesar told Mark that part of the roof was called the steeple, and it was used back in the old days for telling the time by watching the sun's position.
Mark crossed his arms and raised an eyebrow. “So… you're just sitting up here and... staring at the sky?”
“Yeah. But it’s not just the sky, it’s what’s in it,” Cesar said, pointing up. “You see that big one? Ursa Major?” Mark sat on his knees so he could see the sky from behind Cesar, "I thought that was the Big Dipper."
"It's kinda like the Big Dipper," Cesar says, his voice a bit quieter, as he gestures toward the sky. "The Big Dipper's just part of Ursa Major. Ursa Major has a lot of cool stars. Like, it has the North Star—not only the coolest star ever!" He pauses, catching himself. "But, uh... I'm rambling."
"No, you’re not rambling!" Mark says, flashing a smile. He didn't know why the other kids thought Cesar was a chatterbox, Mark just thought Cesar was really smart. Mark didn't even know if he was looking at the Ursa Major or what. "This sounds really cool! Tell me more."
Cesar hesitates for a moment, his composure slipping slightly. "Well... another one I like is Gemini. I saw it up here last summer! It means 'twins,' because in Greek myths, the constellation is made up of two brothers."
"Made up of?" Mark tilts his head, curiosity replacing his uncertainty.
Cesar looks at the sky for a moment, then back to Mark with a smile that felt like the calm after a storm. "Yeah, the stars form these two brothers. Castor and Pollux. They were always together," Mark notices a slight shift in Cesar's tone, as though he’s recalling something personal.
Mark watches him closely. "Are they... still together? In the sky, I mean?"
"Sort of." Cesar shrugs, but his eyes seem distant, lingering on something far beyond the stars. "In the myth, they weren't always together. One of them... Castor died, so Pollux prayed to make him immortal, like him. But Castor couldn't live without him. So, they made a deal with the gods, and they got to be stars together."
Mark doesn’t say anything right away, he wonders, for a moment, if Cesar sees something of himself in that myth.
"Anyway," Cesar adds, his tone lightening again, "now you know Gemini, Ursa Major, and the big dipper. I'll make sure to test you, if you actually come to the park this week," Cesar smirks. "Oh no, I'm not good at tests… " Mark whines playfully, "but I'll see you there!"
A thought tugs at Mark's mind. "Do you think if we stay friends forever, we can be stars in the sky?"
Cesar pauses for a moment, his smirk faltering just slightly, as though the question caught him off guard. He looks up at the sky, as if considering the weight of Mark's words. The stars twinkle above, distant and untouchable, like something out of reach.
"I don't know," Cesar replies softly, a strange note in his voice. "But if we did, I’d want us to be right next to each other, like Castor and Pollux."
Mark's heart gives a small, almost imperceptible leap, the sincerity in Cesar's voice settling in like a quiet promise. "Yeah," he says after a pause, "me too. But lets figure out how to put Sarah in the constellation too, so she doesn't feel left out."
Cesar looks at him then, and the smile returns, though it’s a little more guarded than before. "Well, you better start studying, because I’m not going easy on you when it comes to star facts!"
Mark giggles, both to fill the silence and because thinking about him and Cesar being together forever made him happy. "I’ll study hard, I promise."
Cesar smiles, but it’s fainter now, like he’s still holding back on something. "We should probably walk home. My mom told me not to but… I don't really think she meant it."
Mark raises an eyebrow. Mrs. Torres told him not to go home? Mark’s mom always gets on edge if he’s even ten minutes late. "Okay," he says, "I’ll need to give the robe back to the priest anyway."
He’s seen the way Cesar’s mom looks at him sometimes, like she’s trying to read him, or maybe trying to keep him from slipping away. It’s strange, because it’s not like Cesar is difficult or anything. But Mark doesn’t say anything about it.
They climb down the ladder, Mark landing on his back in the process. They give back the robe to the priest, and speed-walk home.
They start down the path, their footsteps weightless on the pavement. Mark catches a glimpse of Cesar’s profile—his eyes distant, lips pressed tight—Mark wants to ask, but instead he just lets the night fall around them.
Finally, after a long stretch of walking, Mark asks quietly, "You think we’ll always be friends?" Cesar’s answer comes slower than usual. "Yeah. I hope so."
Even though it's a little silly: next Sunday, Mark prays that when he and Cesar die, they become stars. Sarah too. He even draws in the sand box what he thinks their constellation would look like, but Sarah steps on it and scuffs it up which… might be a good sign.