The Star Sweeper

In the small village of Millbrook, at the foot of a tall mountain called Mount Aldin, there lived a boy named Tobin.

He was eleven years old, with messy brown hair and grey eyes that were always looking up at the sky.

Millbrook was a quiet place, with one school, one bakery, and a long green meadow that stretched all the way to the dark trees at the bottom of the mountain.

Tobin lived with his mother in a white house at the very edge of that meadow.

His father, a sailor, had left home in the spring to work on a large ship that carried wood and cloth to countries on the other side of the sea.

He had promised that he would be back before the first snow of winter.

That was a long time away, and Tobin missed him every single day.

Since his father had left, Tobin had not been able to sleep well.

Every night he lay in bed and listened to the clock in the kitchen.

He thought about the wide, dark sea, and about storms and high waves.

He wondered whether his father was safe, and whether he ever thought about the family he had left behind.

"You must try to sleep, Tobin," his mother said one evening, as she pulled the blanket up to his chin.

Her name was Anna, and she worked at the village bakery.

"Your father is a strong man and a good sailor.

He has crossed that sea many times before."

"I know," said Tobin.

"But I still worry."

His mother smiled and kissed his forehead.

"Worrying never helped anyone sleep," she said softly.

"Close your eyes and think of something nice."

After she had gone downstairs, Tobin closed his eyes and tried to think of the summer holidays, which had just begun.

But after a few minutes, his eyes opened again by themselves.

He got out of bed, as he did every night, and sat by the window.

From his window, Tobin could see the whole meadow, silver in the moonlight, and above it, the enormous night sky.

He loved the stars.

His father had taught him their names before he left, and his favorite was the North Star, which never moved at all.

"When I am at sea, I will look at the North Star every night," his father had told him.

"If you look at it too, it will be as if we are looking at each other."

Tobin was looking at the North Star now, and thinking about his father, when something strange happened.

A small light fell out of the sky.

It was not like the shooting stars he had seen before, which disappeared in a second.

This one fell slowly, like a leaf falling from a tree, and it was glowing a soft gold.

It floated down, down, down, and landed in the long grass in the middle of the meadow.

For a moment, Tobin did not move.

Then he pulled on his coat over his pyjamas, put on his boots, and went quietly down the stairs and out of the back door.

The night air was cool and smelled of grass.

Tobin walked carefully across the meadow towards the gold light, and when he reached it, he knelt down and looked.

It was a small stone, about the size of an egg.

It was glowing with a warm, gentle light, and when Tobin held his hand above it, he could feel heat rising from it, like the heat from a cup of tea.

He had never seen anything so beautiful in his life.

"Please do not touch it with your bare hands," said a voice behind him.

"It will not hurt you, but it is very tired, and it does not like to be held by strangers."

Tobin jumped up and turned around.

Standing a few steps away was a tall, thin old man.

He had a long white beard and a long grey coat that reached almost to the ground.

On his head was a soft, wide hat, and in his hand he held a very large broom, taller than he was, with a handle made of pale, shining wood.

On his shoulder sat a big grey owl with round yellow eyes.

But the strangest thing of all was not the old man, or his broom, or his owl.

It was what was behind him.

Floating just above the grass, about as high as a garden wall, was a small white cloud.

It was flat on the top, like a boat, and it moved gently up and down in the air, as if it were breathing.

"Who are you?" asked Tobin, in a very small voice.

"My name is Elias," said the old man, and he took off his hat politely.

"And this is Oskar."

The owl opened his beak and said, "Good evening," in a deep, clear voice.

Tobin's mouth fell open.

"Your owl can talk!"

"Only at night, and only when he has something useful to say," said Elias, with a small smile.

"Which is not very often."

Elias took a soft blue cloth out of his pocket, bent down, and lifted the little golden stone.

He wrapped it in the cloth as gently as if it were a baby bird.

"This is a star," he explained.

"Or it was, until about ten minutes ago.

Stars get tired, you see, just like people.

Sometimes, when they have been shining for too long, they fall out of the sky to rest.

If nobody picks them up and puts them back before the sun rises, their light goes out forever."

"And you pick them up?" asked Tobin.

"I do," said Elias.

"I sweep the sky.

I have done it every night for sixty years.

I am the Star Sweeper."

Tobin looked at the broom, then at the cloud, then at the old man's kind, tired face.

He knew that he should be frightened, but he was not.

He felt more awake and more alive than he had felt since the day his father had left.

"Can I help you?" he asked.

Elias looked at him for a long moment.

Then he looked at Oskar.

The owl moved his head from one side to the other, the way owls do when they are thinking.

"The boy has been sitting at that window every night for weeks," Oskar said at last.

"I have seen him.

He watches the stars more carefully than anyone in the village."

"Is that true?" asked Elias.

Tobin nodded.

"I cannot sleep," he said.

"My father is at sea."

The old man's face became softer.

He held out his long, thin hand.

"Then come with me," he said.

"Just for tonight.

The sky is a good place for people who cannot sleep."

Tobin climbed onto the cloud.

He had expected it to feel wet and cold, like fog on an autumn morning, but it was soft and dry, like a thick wool blanket.

Elias stepped up beside him, and Oskar flew to the front of the cloud and sat there like the head of a ship.

"Hold on to my coat," said Elias.

Then he touched the cloud twice with the end of his broom, and it began to rise.

They went up slowly at first, past the roof of Tobin's house and the tops of the tall trees, and then faster and faster.

Below them, the village of Millbrook became smaller and smaller, until the houses looked like toys and the lights in their windows looked like tiny yellow flowers.

Tobin could see the river shining like a silver ribbon, and far away in the east, he could see the dark line of the sea.

"Somewhere out there is my father's ship," he said quietly.

"Then we will make sure that he has good stars to guide him tonight," said Elias.

Soon they were so high that the air became thin and cool.

The stars were all around them, bright and near, shining in every color that Tobin could imagine.

Some were white, some were gold, some were pale blue, and a few were soft and pink, like the inside of a shell.

Across the middle of the sky ran a wide river of light, made of millions of tiny stars.

"We call that the Silver Road," said Oskar, turning his head to look at Tobin.

"It is the easiest way to cross the sky."

The cloud moved along the Silver Road, and Elias showed Tobin how the work was done.

Whenever they saw an empty, dark place in the sky, Elias looked down towards the earth for a small gold light, lying on a hill or in a field or on the roof of a sleeping town.

Then he steered the cloud down and gently swept the fallen star into a soft blue bag that hung from his belt.

When the bag was full, they went back up into the sky.

Elias sat down in the middle of the cloud and took out the stars one by one.

He polished each of them slowly with his soft blue cloth, and as he did this, he sang a quiet song.

It had no words, only a low, gentle tune, like the sound of the wind in the trees.

As he sang and polished, each star grew brighter and brighter, until it shone as strongly as it had shone before.

Then Elias held the star up high, and it floated out of his hand and back into its own place in the sky.

"Would you like to try?" he asked, and he gave Tobin a small, pale star and a cloth.

Tobin polished the star as gently as he could.

He did not know the song, so he hummed an old lullaby that his mother used to sing.

Slowly, slowly, the star began to glow.

When it was bright, he held it up, and he felt it leave his fingers and rise into the dark sky like a bubble in water.

"Well done," said Elias.

"It likes you."

They worked all night.

Tobin polished eleven stars.

When the sky in the east began to turn pale grey, Elias brought the cloud down to the meadow behind Tobin's house.

"Go to bed now," said the old man.

"And thank you for your help."

Tobin climbed the stairs, lay down in his bed, and for the first time in many weeks, he fell asleep immediately.

He slept deeply and peacefully, and he did not wake up until his mother called him for lunch.

The next night, just after midnight, there was a soft knock at Tobin's window.

It was Oskar, sitting on the window frame.

"Elias wonders if you are free this evening," said the owl politely.

From that night on, Tobin went with Elias every night.

His mother was always fast asleep by ten o'clock, so she noticed nothing, except that her son seemed happier.

Night after night, Tobin learned more about the work of the Star Sweeper.

He learned that small stars were light and easy to carry, but that big stars were so heavy that it took two people to lift them.

He learned that every star had its own name, and that Elias knew all of them.

There was Old Harriet, a huge orange star who complained whenever she was polished.

There were the Twins, two small white stars who always fell together and could never be separated.

And there was a tiny, shy green star called Button, who hid under leaves whenever she fell.

Tobin also learned the old man's song.

After a week, he could sing it almost as well as Elias, and the stars he polished shone just as brightly.

One night, as they were sitting on the cloud and resting, Tobin told Elias about his father.

"He works on a ship called the Morning Gull," he said.

"He left in April.

He said that he would look at the North Star every night, and that if I looked at it too, it would be as if we were looking at each other."

Elias smiled.

"Your father is a wise man," he said.

"Sailors have used the stars to find their way for thousands of years.

When there are no lights and no land, the stars are the only friends a sailor has."

He pointed to the North Star, shining high above them.

"Would you like to polish it tonight?"

Tobin's eyes grew wide. "Can I?"

They flew up to the North Star, and Tobin polished it with his cloth while he sang the Sweeper's song.

He polished it more carefully than he had ever polished anything.

When he had finished, it was shining so brightly that it made the stars around it look pale.

"Now your father will see it clearly, wherever he is," said Elias.

As they flew back along the Silver Road that night, Tobin noticed something that he had seen before but had never asked about.

Every night, before they went home, Elias flew to one particular star on the far eastern side of the sky.

It was not the biggest or the brightest star, but it was a beautiful deep, clear blue, like the sea on a summer afternoon.

Elias always polished it himself, and he never let anyone else touch it.

While he polished it, he did not sing.

He just looked at it quietly, with a sad, faraway expression on his face.

"What is the name of that star?" asked Tobin.

Elias did not answer.

He put the blue star back in its place and turned the cloud towards home without a word.

Tobin did not ask again.

He understood that some things were too heavy to talk about.

But about two weeks later, Elias told him himself.

It was a warm night without any wind, and very few stars had fallen.

Tobin and Elias had finished their work early, and they were lying on their backs on the cloud, looking up at the sky.

Oskar was asleep at the front of the cloud with his head under his wing.

"Her name was Rosa," said Elias suddenly.

Tobin turned his head. "Who?"

"My sister," said the old man.

"You asked me about the blue star.

It is Rosa's star.

Or rather, it is our star."

And then, slowly, as the cloud moved gently through the dark, he told Tobin the story.

When Elias was a boy, he had lived in a small fishing village by the sea, a long way to the south of Millbrook.

Their house had been tiny, but it had a flat roof, and on summer nights, Elias and his younger sister had often climbed up onto that roof to look at the stars.

Rosa had loved the blue star most of all.

She had said that it was the color of the sea on the day she was born, and she had called it her own.

When Rosa was nineteen, she had fallen in love with a young man from a country on the other side of the sea.

They had married, and she had gone to live with him in his country.

On the night before her ship left, Elias and Rosa had climbed up onto the roof for the last time.

"She told me that she was afraid," said Elias.

"She said that she would miss our home and our family, and me most of all.

So we made a promise.

We promised that every night, wherever we were, we would both look up at the blue star.

That way, she said, we would never really be apart."

"Like my father and the North Star," said Tobin softly.

"Yes," said Elias.

"Just like that."

For the first few months, the promise had worked.

Every night, Elias had looked at the blue star and thought of his sister, and he had known that she was looking at it too.

But then, one winter, something terrible had happened.

The blue star had begun to fade.

Every night it had become a little weaker and a little paler, until it was hardly shining at all.

Elias had been desperate.

He had asked everyone in his village what was happening, but nobody had known.

At last, an old fisherman had told him about a legend.

He had said that a Star Sweeper lived at the top of a mountain in the north, and that the Sweeper took care of all the stars in the sky.

"So I left home," said Elias, "and I walked north for three weeks.

When I finally found the mountain and climbed to the top, there was an old woman there called Marta.

She was the Star Sweeper, and she was very, very old.

She told me that she could no longer do the work alone.

Many stars had fallen that winter, and she had not been able to save them all.

The blue star had fallen into a forest, and she had not found it in time to polish it properly."

"What did you do?" asked Tobin.

"I asked her to teach me," said Elias.

"She said that the sky did not need someone who was clever or strong.

It needed someone who loved it.

I told her that I loved one star more than anything in the world, and that I would learn to love all the others too."

He looked up at the blue star, which was shining clearly above them.

"That was sixty years ago," he said.

"Marta taught me everything, and when she died, I became the Star Sweeper.

I have polished the blue star every night since then."

"And Rosa?" asked Tobin.

"Have you seen her again?"

Elias shook his head slowly.

"Never," he said.

"Her country is six days away by ship.

A Star Sweeper cannot leave the sky for two whole weeks.

If I did, hundreds of stars would fall, and nobody would pick them up.

So I stayed.

For many years we wrote letters to each other.

I told her that I was taking good care of our star, but I do not think she ever understood what I meant."

He reached inside his long coat and took out an envelope.

The paper was thin and old, and the writing on the front was small and shaky.

"This came a month ago," he said.

"It is the first letter that I have had from her in almost ten years.

Her husband died last winter.

She is eighty years old now, and she is not well.

She wrote that she would like to see me once more, before it is too late.

She said that she still looks at the blue star every night, and that it is the only thing that has never changed in her whole life."

Tobin sat up.

"Then you must go and see her!"

"I cannot," said Elias sadly.

"I have told you why.

Who would sweep the sky?"

Tobin thought for a moment.

Then he said the words that had been growing in his mind while Elias was telling his story.

"I will," he said.

The old man stared at him.

Oskar, who had woken up, took his head out from under his wing.

"You are eleven years old," said Elias.

"I know," said Tobin.

"But you told me that the sky does not need someone who is clever or strong.

It needs someone who loves it.

I love it, Elias.

And I know all the stars now.

I know Old Harriet and the Twins and Button.

I know the song.

You have told me many times that the stars like me."

"It is dangerous work," said Elias.

"There are storms.

There are nights when fifty stars fall at once."

"Then Oskar can help me," said Tobin.

"Can you, Oskar?"

The owl looked at the boy, and then at the old man.

"He is right, Elias," he said quietly.

"He is the best student I have ever seen.

And you have been waiting for sixty years."

For a long time, Elias said nothing.

Then he looked up at the blue star, and Tobin saw that there were tears in his eyes.

"Let me think about it," he said at last.

The next morning, Tobin did something that he had been afraid to do.

He told his mother everything.

He expected her to laugh, or to be angry, or to think that he had been dreaming.

Instead, his mother sat down slowly at the kitchen table.

"When I was a little girl," she said, "my grandmother told me that there was an old man who swept the sky with a broom.

She said that she had seen him once, when she was young, flying across the moon on a cloud.

Everybody thought that she was a little bit crazy."

She looked at Tobin for a long time.

"Is he a good man, this Elias?"

"He is the kindest man I have ever met," said Tobin.

His mother was quiet for a long moment.

Then she said, "I would like to meet him."

That evening, Elias came down from the sky and sat in Anna's kitchen, with his big hat on his knees and a cup of tea in his thin hands.

He looked a little uncomfortable, as if he had not sat in a kitchen for a very long time.

They talked for two hours, and Elias answered all of Anna's questions honestly.

At the end, Anna turned to her son.

"Elias says that you have a real gift," she said.

"He says that he has never seen anyone learn so quickly, not even himself."

She took a deep breath.

"You may do it.

But you must promise me that you will come home before sunrise every morning, and that you will always listen to Oskar."

"I promise," said Tobin.

Elias left three days later, on a ship that sailed from the port at the mouth of the river.

Tobin and his mother went to say goodbye.

The old man looked strange in the daylight, standing on the busy wooden dock with a small brown suitcase in his hand.

He shook Tobin's hand very seriously.

"Remember," he said.

"Polish them slowly.

Sing to them.

And most of all, if the blue star ever falls, you must find it before sunrise, whatever happens.

It has fallen once before, long ago, and it was very weak afterwards.

If it falls again and nobody saves it in time, its light will go out forever."

"I will remember," said Tobin.

For the first five nights, everything went well.

Tobin flew the cloud along the Silver Road with Oskar sitting at the front, and they found every fallen star and put it back in its place.

It was hard work, much harder than it had been with Elias, and Tobin was so tired in the mornings that he slept until the afternoon.

But every night, before he went home, he flew to the blue star and polished it carefully, just as Elias had done.

And every night, he polished the North Star too, and thought of his father.

On the sixth night, the weather changed.

All day the air had been hot and heavy.

By evening, dark clouds had begun to gather over the sea, and by midnight, a great storm was coming towards the land.

Lightning flashed across the sky, and the thunder was so loud that it shook the windows of Tobin's house.

"We should not go out tonight," said Oskar, when he arrived at the window.

His feathers were wet and untidy from the wind.

"But we must.

In storms like this, the stars fall like rain."

Tobin put on his coat and his boots and climbed onto the cloud.

It was difficult to control in the strong wind.

It went up and down like a small boat on high waves, and twice Tobin almost fell off.

But he held tightly to the broom and kept going.

Oskar was right.

Everywhere they looked, stars were falling.

Tobin and Oskar worked as fast as they could.

They swept up star after star, and they filled the blue bag again and again.

Tobin's arms ached, and his hands were cold and wet, but he did not stop.

Then, just after three o'clock in the morning, Oskar gave a sharp cry.

"Tobin! Look!"

Tobin looked up.

In the far eastern part of the sky, a deep blue light was falling.

It fell quickly, much more quickly than the other stars, and it disappeared behind the black trees at the bottom of the mountain.

It was Rosa's star.

For a moment, Tobin could not breathe.

Then he turned the cloud towards the mountain and flew as fast as the wind would let him.

"It fell near Mirror Lake," shouted Oskar, over the noise of the storm. "I saw it!"

Mirror Lake was a small, deep lake in the forest at the foot of Mount Aldin.

In the daytime, its water was as still and clear as a mirror.

But tonight, when the cloud came down through the rain and the wind, the lake was black and rough, and there was no light anywhere on its surface.

Tobin jumped off the cloud onto the muddy shore.

He searched among the rocks and under the bushes, but there was nothing.

"Where is it?" he cried.

"Oskar, where is it?"

The owl flew low over the water, turning his head from side to side.

Then he stopped in the air.

"There," he said quietly.

"Under the water."

Tobin ran to the edge of the lake and looked down.

Deep below the surface, far beyond the reach of his arms, he could see a faint blue light.

It was very small and very weak, like a candle at the end of a long, dark hall.

As he watched, it seemed to grow even weaker.

"It is dying," said Oskar.

"The cold water is putting out its light."

Tobin pushed the end of the broom into the lake, but the handle was far too short.

He thought about jumping in, but the water was dark and cold and deep, and he remembered the promise that he had made to his mother.

He sat down on a rock with the rain running down his face, and for a moment, he felt completely hopeless.

Then he remembered something that Elias had told him on one of their first nights together.

They had been looking for Button, the shy green star, who had hidden under a pile of leaves.

"Never chase a star," Elias had said.

"A star always wants to go home.

You only have to remind it where home is."

Tobin stood up.

He walked to the very edge of the water, and he began to sing.

He sang the Sweeper's song, the low, gentle song without words that Elias had taught him.

At first his voice was shaky, and the wind almost carried it away.

But he kept singing, louder and more steadily.

He thought about the sky, and the Silver Road, and an old woman in a faraway country who was looking up at the clouds and waiting for her star to come back.

He thought about his father, too, on a small ship somewhere on the wide, dark sea.

Slowly, very slowly, the blue light began to rise.

It came up through the dark water, a little at a time, until at last it floated on the surface just in front of Tobin's boots.

He picked it up with his blue cloth.

It was cold, and it was hardly glowing at all.

Tobin climbed back onto the cloud with the star held against his chest, and he and Oskar rose up through the storm.

By now the rain was stopping, and the wind was getting weaker.

In the east, the sky was already beginning to turn grey.

There was very little time left.

Tobin sat in the middle of the cloud and polished the blue star.

He polished it more gently and more carefully than he had ever polished anything, and he sang to it the whole time.

For a long while, nothing happened.

Then, at last, a small blue glow appeared in the center of the star.

It grew, and it grew, until the whole star was shining a deep, clear blue, like the sea on a summer afternoon.

Tobin held it up high.

The star rose out of his hands and flew back to its place in the eastern sky, just as the first pink light of sunrise appeared over the sea.

Tobin did not remember how he got home that morning.

He only remembered falling into bed with his wet boots still on, and his mother pulling them off and covering him with a warm blanket.

He slept until the evening of the next day.

The storm had passed, and the rest of the two weeks were calm and peaceful.

Tobin swept the sky every night with Oskar, and every night, the blue star shone more brightly than ever.

On the fourteenth day, two things happened.

The first was a letter from Tobin's father.

It had been written almost three weeks before, and it had travelled a long way.

In it, his father wrote that the Morning Gull had been caught in a terrible storm in the middle of the sea.

For a whole night, the sailors had not been able to see anything but black clouds and high waves, and they had lost their way completely.

Then, just before morning, the clouds had opened for a few minutes, and the North Star had appeared.

"I have never seen it shine so brightly," his father had written.

"It was as if somebody had polished it just for us.

We found our way again because of it.

I thought of you, Tobin, and I knew that you were looking at it too."

Tobin read the letter three times.

At the top of the page was the date.

It was the morning after the night when he had polished the North Star for the first time.

He folded the letter carefully and put it under his pillow.

The second thing that happened was that Elias came home.

He came walking up the road from the port in the late afternoon, with his small brown suitcase in his hand.

He looked younger, somehow, and much less tired.

Tobin ran all the way down the meadow to meet him.

That night, the three of them sat on the cloud together, Tobin, Elias, and Oskar, and Elias told them about his journey.

He had found Rosa living in a small white house on a hill above the sea.

She had been sitting in her garden when he arrived, and at first she had not recognized him.

Then she had looked into his eyes, and she had started to cry and laugh at the same time.

They had talked for two whole days about their parents, their village, and the flat roof where they had watched the stars as children.

"She told me something strange," said Elias, and he looked at Tobin with a smile.

"She said that on the night of the great storm, she had gone outside to look for our star, and it had not been there.

She had been frightened.

She had thought that this time, it had gone forever.

But just before sunrise, it had come back.

She said that it had been brighter than she had ever seen it, even when we were children."

He laughed softly.

"She asked me who was taking care of it now.

I told her that it was a young friend of mine, who loved the sky as much as I did."

Tobin felt his face grow warm, and he did not know what to say.

"I am getting old, Tobin," said Elias gently.

"I cannot sweep the sky forever.

One day, someone will have to take my place, just as I took Marta's place a long time ago.

Would you like to be my student?

You would only come on weekends and holidays, of course, until you are older.

Your mother has already said yes."

Tobin looked up at the sky, at the Silver Road and Old Harriet and the Twins and the North Star and, far in the east, the deep, clear blue of Rosa's star.

"Yes," he said.

"I would like that more than anything."

In the autumn, when the leaves on the trees had turned gold, Tobin's father came home.

That night, the whole family sat together at the window and looked up at the stars.

And when Tobin finally went to bed, he closed his eyes and fell asleep at once, deeply and peacefully, because he knew that somewhere high above him, an old man and a grey owl were quietly sweeping the sky, and every star was safe in its place.