Waltz

Waltz spun gently in space. Waltz was a graceful little creature. Waltz wore a flowing astronaut suit. The suit was soft purple. It shimmered when Waltz turned. Waltz loved to twirl. Waltz held a small spinning toy. It was two beads on a loop. Waltz called it a pair-tracker.

Waltz taught a surprising thing. "Most stars are not alone," Waltz often said. "They circle a partner." Up in the sky, a star can look like one tiny dot. But look closer. Very often, it is really two stars. Two stars, bound together. Two stars, turning around each other. A slow, endless dance.

A young stargazer pointed up. "That's one star. Just one little dot." "Look closer," Waltz said. Waltz held up the pair-tracker. The two beads spun around each other. "Many of those dots are really two stars. They are too close together for your eyes to split apart. But they are a pair. Each one pulls on the other with gravity. So they circle. Around and around, forever." The stargazer stared. "So a lonely-looking star might not be lonely at all?" "Often it is not," Waltz said softly. "It has a partner. They have been dancing for a very, very long time."

The academy asked Waltz to teach a class. "Our students think every star stands alone," they said. "Will you show them the pairs?" Waltz spun happily. "Yes!"

Waltz teaches one rule. "Do not assume a star is alone. Look for the dance." Waltz spun the pair-tracker. "Two stars circle a spot in between them. The heavier one stays closer to the middle. The lighter one swings wider. But they hold each other in place with gravity. They do not crash. They do not fly apart. They balance." A student watched the two beads circle. "They keep each other steady," the student said. "Yes," Waltz said. "Each one pulls. Each one is pulled. And the pulling makes a steady circle. That is the waltz. Two stars, balanced, dancing."

After class, Waltz floated quietly. Waltz watched a pair of stars far away. They turned slowly around each other. Around and around.