Sunshine

In the parlor of her family’s Victorian home, Ophelia was kneeling in a wing-backed armchair, her elbows folded and resting on its back. Looking out the large parlor windows, she squinted just enough so that she could look at the noonday sun without hurting her eyes. Every so often, she would fling her lids wide and gaze upon the great orange ball in all its burning splendor. Able to bear it for only seconds, she would quickly look away, blinking furiously. To her delight thereafter, whether she closed her eyes or simply stared at the floor, she could still see the image of the round sun as clearly as if its shape were burnt into her pupils. When the sun’s likeness had faded, she would start at the beginning, squinting to give her eyes a rest, then capturing the sun all over again.

“Father,” she said, sitting up quite suddenly after nearly half an hour of her game. The mustached and be-monocled  Mr. Chester was dozing in another armchair nearby. “Father, have you ever looked up at the sun?” She could scarcely imagine that her father had ever done so, or that he had ever had a childhood for that matter, stuffy and boorish as he was.

“Eh?” he grunted, cracking an eye and giving her a sideways glance. “The sun, what’s that?”

“Have you ever looked up at the sun?” she persisted.

“Oh,” he yawned, “that’s a silly question, my girl. Of course I have.”

“You have?” she said, a note of surprise in her voice.

Both his eyes were open now. Mr. Chester stretched, then scooted his armchair around to face his daughter. “Ophelia,” he began, “I once looked at the sun through a telescope! It nearly blinded my left eye!”

“Oh father!” she said in mock horror. “But you got better, didn’t you?”

“Of course I did, my dear,” he chuckled. “Of course. But you have to be careful, you know. Too much staring at the sun, and who knows, you might not be so lucky as me.”

“Hmm,” said Ophelia thoughtfully, looking outside again and watching the sun glitter on a small pond in the gardens. “You know, Father, I think that if the sun came any closer to the earth, we might all be blinded! It’s just lucky that the sun keeps far enough away to give us light, but not too much.”

“Ho ho,” her father chuckled. “Ophelia, I don’t think the sun will be moving any time soon. It’s quite happy where it is, I do believe.”

“But father,” Ophelia turned to him, annoyed. “The sun moves every day. It goes all the away around the earth, round and round. I read about it in a book.”

“Well, I hate to argue, but I think you’ve been reading the wrong books Ophelia. The sun doesn’t move – the earth does. We’re on an orbit, you see, and – oh, but I suppose you wouldn’t understand all that.”

“No, father!” Ophelia jumped up in her chair. “You're wrong! If the earth were moving, we would feel it. We’d be stumbling and nothing would sit on the shelves properly. Stop playing,” she fumed, jumping down from the chair. She ran over to the couch across the room and flung herself upon it.

“Be reasonable, Ophelia,” her father began in an exasperated tone.

“No, you be reasonable Father!” she called back. “I know what I know, and I see what I see. The sun runs around the earth like a big chariot, and it’s beautiful, and I would watch it run all day long if my eyes could stand it! Hmph!” With a final sigh, she snuggled her face into a pillow and lay still.

“Well, Ophelia,” her father said carefully, “I suppose you can decide for yourself which way is the right way. But maybe you’ll change your mind some day – you should be open to that, you know.” He fumbled in his pocket for a cigarette. Clenching one between his lips, he struck a match and tried to light it – the small flame from the match crept closer and closer to his fingertips. As he finally puffed the cigarette to life, the match came to its end. “Ouch!” he said, and dropped the spent match onto his lap. “Blast it all,” he muttered, sticking his burnt finger in his mouth.

“Serves you right,” Ophelia whispered into her pillow. “If the sun were any closer, it’d do the same thing.”


------


This post is part of a synchroblog, where people post at the same time every two weeks on the same topic. This week's topic is: 'The Earth around the Sun or the Sun around the Earth: Centers of Gravity.' To read the other posts (which are quite good), follow this link:


Synchrobloggers