Kansas, She Says, Is the Name of the Star

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Amy stared out her bedroom window as the summer sun settled into the flat cornfields, spreading gold fire over the green sea of leaves. Her red hair caught the slanting light, giving her a fiery orange halo. Alert brown eyes searched for the first evening star. Amy ached to make a wish. Tonight she was twelve for the last time. Tomorrow was her birthday, and tomorrow evening would be her wedding night. Leaning farther out the second floor window, straining to see a star, Amy rehearsed her wish. She wanted to be eleven again, or even ten, with her wedding day years away. Amy was not in the least ready for marriage. Especially to some stranger three times her age—if she was lucky. What a ghastly thought. She would much rather shovel manure with a spoon.

But no one gave her that choice. Fat chance. Everyone acted like marrying some strange man was totally natural. No one saw it her way, not Mom, not Lilith, not Delilah, or Dot. Tuck and Nathan were boys, and naturally no help. And Dad had two teenage brides himself—one of them from Amy’s grade. So she appealed to the evening star, since no one else would listen.

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