by Chad Josey
“Back to your earlier question about plans to destroy it.”
“Yes, because after knowing about this thing for so long, surely there must be a plan in place?” Joe asked.
“From our readings, CIE.57.20 is composed of ninety-percent iron and nickel. It is traveling at an estimated speed of seventy-five thousand miles per hour.”
Joe attempted a rough-cut estimate in his head of his own calculations.
“It is four-thousand miles in diameter, twice the size of our Moon. And, it is on a direct collision course. Now, you’re a scientist, just by those statistics alone, I am sure you can imagine the outcome?”
Joe shifted his eyes to the upper-right performing calculations in his head. After a few seconds, his gaze fell back to the screen. Joe stood and slowly walked toward the image touching the newer image. He turned his head toward Gabriel who stood beside him.
“The energy of this impact will…” Joe paused for a moment not believing what he was about to say next, “cause the Earth to explode on impact.”
“Yes, explode. We have ran the simulations many times, and we get the same results. CIE.57.20 is just too big, too fast, and too dense to destroy. Even if we detonated every nuclear weapon ever built, CIE.57.20 is still coming toward us.”
“And exploding nuclear bombs near it won’t nudge its orbit so it misses us? I mean, given the distance, nudging it even an inch would cause it to miss Earth entirely given the geometry.”
“From our calculations, the gravitational pull from the planets as CIE.57.20 enters our solar system keeps it in-line with impacting Earth.”
“But, so that’s it. Simulations say this, and we won’t try?”
“That’s just it, Joe. We have tried. Entities in our governments have been building and testing larger nuclear bombs for decades for this purpose.”
“What? You’re telling me all the nuclear bomb testing is part of this too?”
Gabriel grasped Joe’s shoulder. “The Cold War… we staged this. It was our cloak-and-dagger way to confuse the Public, because of all the nuclear testing we needed.”
Joe stepped away from Gabriel in disbelief pushing Gabriel’s hand off his shoulder and returned to his chair.
“We even sent missions to intercept other known meteors with similar characteristics to test our detonations. The results were all the same... our weapons will be useless.”
Joe sat in silence. His eyes darted between the screen and Gabriel.
“So, you’re telling me that all the nuclear testing and scare tactics of the Cold War were nothing more than an excuse to test weapons to blow this thing away?”
“Exactly… I know it is hard to understand. This isn’t some science-fiction movie where we have a powerful laser that can blow this thing up. We have only the weapons we have been able to develop so far.”
“So, even if all this is true, and I’m not saying I believe any of this… then, why in the hell are you telling me this? Why am I here?”
“Joe, your research holds the key to helping the human race survive—”
Joe stood from his chair and interrupted Gabriel. “Survive? How the hell does my genetic biological research for cancer treatments go about trying to stop this son-of-a-bitch?”
“It won’t… your research will help us to sustain human life on Mars.”
Disbelief and rage overcame Joe. He leaned forward placing his head into his hands with his elbows on his knees. After a few seconds, Joe leapt from the chair and grabbed his backpack from the table. “Okay, that’s it, I am out of here. I entertained your crazy shit out of respect. But, you, my friend, are officially nuts.”
He turned from Gabriel to leave the room and grabbed the doorknob. Gabriel advanced the picture on the television.
“Joe, what you see here is our facility on Mars. We call it Salvation. This is where we are moving a selected sector of the population. Salvation is our only chance for the human race to survive.”
Joe stopped. His curiosity increased. He released his grip on the doorknob and turned back toward the screen.
“So, you're telling me this place will be built and people will go there to live?”
“Joe… we have already built Salvation… it’s operational now.”
Joe inched his way down in the chair. His mouth was open in disbelief. “This place is on Mars… that means we have already landed on—”
“Yes, Joe, we have been going to Mars since the mid-‘80s.”
“But… why me? Why my research?”
A ping of excitement aroused Joe with the possibilities of Mars. Gabriel’s voice murmured in Joe’s brain as childhood memories rushed back to Joe from the first time he had watched the Moon landing as a child.
2-Rachel
July 24, 1989
Pasadena, Texas
“HOUSTON. You’re ‘Go’ for landing. Over.”
Voices cracked over the television speakers in the corner of the living room. They had belonged to Ed Aldrin, the Lunar Module pilot on Apollo 11, and Mission Control from 1969 on the twentieth anniversary of the Moon landing.
“Roger. Understand. Go for landing… Kicking up some dust… Drifting to the right a little… Contact light… Okay, engine stop.”
“We copy you down Eagle.”
“Houston. Tranquility Base, here. The Eagle has landed.”
A faint cheer erupted from Joseph. He sat on the floor, his face a foot away from the television screen, the smell of warm dust seeping from inside the gigantic Zenith wafted through the faux-wood, plastic cabinet. Grainy, black-and-white images filled his eyes from the old television standing on four, short metal legs. The twenty-year-old events captured his imagination blocking the sadness around him.
“Bless his heart. Liz, look at Joseph sitting on the floor watching that program,” Martha said.
Liz Bishop and Martha Unger stood under the archway separating the kitchen from the living room. They had been best friends since Liz and her husband, Eli, had moved to the Houston suburb of Pasadena, Texas in 1961. Their closeness was obvious based on their matching black dresses and bouffant hairstyles.
“It’s so sad to think about it. I asked Joseph why he was sitting so close to the screen. And, do you know what he said?” Liz asked.
“Uh-huh.” Martha’s response echoed from her glass as she sipped the last drops of her southern sweet tea.
“He said he turned the sound down not to disturb anybody.” Liz held her empty glass with its clanging ice by her side.
“Disturb anyone. Oh, my. It’s us who are disturbing him. When my mama died, I didn’t want anyone around me at all. Heck, I was twenty then. With Rachel gone, I can’t imagine what it must be like for him being only ten-years-old.” Martha finished her tea and took Liz’s empty glass to the sink. “And, not to mention an orphan now with Jacob passing just before Joseph was born.”
“It hurt me when my son was killed, but, now with Rachel…” Liz’s thoughts lingered as she watched her grandson. “Huh, Joseph is closer to his parents watching that program about the Moon landing than sitting out there with a bunch of strangers,” Liz said.
Piercing handclaps interrupted their conversation. This happiness contrasted against the somber mood of the twenty people inside Joseph’s house for his mama’s wake. A house now left to him and his grandma, Liz.
“What are you watching?” a young girl asked. She had walked over to Joseph from the front door after hearing his excitement. She was the same age as Joseph.
“We’re landing on the Moon.” Joseph sat his bowl of macaroni-and-cheese beside him on the floor. “You wanna watch?”
“Okay.” She knelt and joined Joseph making sure not to step on the bottom of her black skirt. Joseph’s bowl sat between them. Both stared at the images on the television screen. After a long quiet moment, she whispered, “I’m sorry about your mama.”
“Thanks.” Joseph stole a quick glance over to her and back to the television. Her wavy, auburn hair hid her light-green eyes. “
What’s your name?”
“Mary.”
Joseph smiled and hummed; Mary had a little lamb.
“Is this happening now on the Moon?”
“Nope, this is like old or something.” Black-and-white images flickered off their faces as they continued watching the television.
Martha had left Liz to wash the overflowing kitchen sink of dirty dishes after meals of ham, green beans, and cornbread. From behind her, Liz whispered into her ear, “Martha, you have to come see this.”
Martha rinsed her hands in the lukewarm water from the faucet and placed the clean, wet glasses into the holder beside the sink. She followed Liz back to the archway.
“Awe, that’s so cute. Who is she?” Martha asked, clasping her hands together under her chin.
“I think her name is, Mary. She’s Bob’s new foster kid.” They smiled watching Mary and Joseph.
The two kids sat in amazement on the floor sharing the same bowl of macaroni-and-cheese. It was a surreal sight given the sadness-filled living room as others shared their memories of Rachel.
“What happened to the little boy Bob used to foster?” Martha asked.
“I’m not sure. I heard he takes in foster kids so he can get money from the State,” Liz said. The pleasant sight of Mary and Joseph broke through their shared disdain for Bob Warner. “Don’t they look so cute together?”
“Liz, I can see it now, Mary and Joseph. Those will be the roles they will play in the church Christmas play.”
“Yes!” A scream came in unison from the living room.
“Excuse me, Martha. I should go tell them to be quiet.” Liz gave Martha a quick touch on her shoulder, leaving her standing under the archway.
“Why are y’all so excited?” Liz asked.
“Look, we did it. We stepped on the Moon,” Joseph said. Bob had joined the three of them from the opposite corner of the living room upon hearing Mary scream.
“Liz, it was such a beautiful service.” Bob took her hand in his. His rough callouses rubbed against her as if she held a piece of sandpaper.
“Thanks. Minister Greene gave a lovely service don’t you think?”
As Liz spoke, Bob knelt behind Joseph and Mary. “Joseph, I’m so sorry about your mama.” Bob paused for a moment. “If you ever need anything, you let us know, Son.” Joseph shook his head to acknowledge Bob; his eyes never leaving the screen.
“Well, Mary, we should go.”
“Mary, thank you for coming. I hope to see you at church.” Liz hugged her as Mary stood beside Joseph.
“Thanks.” Mary’s voice was no louder than a whisper, smiling as she walked away with Bob.
Liz prepared to kneel behind Joseph when Mary returned. A smudge of yellow-powered cheese remained in the corner of her lips. Mary placed her arms around Joseph’s shoulders.
“Sorry again about your mama,” Mary said.
Liz sighed watching Mary hug her grandson. She released Joseph and rejoined Bob who had been waiting by the front door to leave. Liz sat beside Joseph on the hideously upholstered footstool her daughter-in-law had adored.
“So, people will leave soon. Do you want to tell anyone good-bye?”
“That’s okay. I don’t wanna miss anything… this is so amazing—”
“The Moon landing was amazing when it happened.” A proud smile cracked through the layers of her makeup, while runny-mascara tracks streaked from her eyes.
Liz placed her arm around Joseph and whispered in his ear. “In fact, I bet your daddy and mama are watching you right now.”
Joseph’s earlier excitement of watching the landing escaped his body. His shoulders slumped closer to the floor.
“Your mama loved you. And, she’ll always be with you.”
“Just like Daddy was supposed to be?” Joseph focused his attention away from the television and stared at his grandma.
“Your daddy will always be with you. My son would have loved to have seen you when you were born. He was taken away from us so young. You know what?”
“What?”
“He gave your mama and the rest of the world a miracle gift in you before he died.” She hugged Joseph tight.
“But, I pray every night to see Daddy. He never appears. Now, I need to pray to see Mama. That ain’t fair.”
Large tears formed in his eyes, barely clinging on to the edge of his eyelashes. As soon as he glanced up at his grandma, the teardrops could no longer hold on as they fell to his shirt.
“It’s not fair. When we got the call about your daddy’s accident, your mama was so brave. And, when the doctors told her about the brain cancer, she was so strong. Now, you need to be brave and strong too.”
“It’s still ain’t fair.” He turned his attention back toward the images of the Moon.
Her grandson’s breathing had become shallow. The flickering images on the screen from Mission Control broadcasted across the world in July 1969 caught her attention.
“Look. Maybe your prayers are being answered,” Liz said with a higher pitched voice.
“Huh?”
She grabbed his tear-soaked hand and placed it on the television screen. “You see all those people there?”
“Yeah?”
“Well, I remember watching this same broadcast with your daddy twenty-years ago. Jacob sat in the same spot you’re sitting in now. He was touching the screen at this point… did you know Grandpa Eli was in that room?”
“Grandpa used to work on rockets, right?” he responded.
“Not exactly. He worked with NASA and was on the Mission Control Team. And, I remember your daddy wanted to be with your grandpa so much. Back then we hardly ever saw him.”
She rubbed the back of Joseph’s shoulders as she continued. “Your daddy was about the same age as you are now. I remember him touching the screen and saying, ‘I miss you, Daddy.’ So, see, you’re connecting with your daddy now by watching this program.”
Pride overwhelmed Joseph. He felt the swelling within him, lifting his shoulders upward.
“Wow, Daddy was watching this too, just like me?” he replied with amazement.
“Yeah, we tried to find your grandpa, Eli. But, we never saw him on TV.”
Joseph turned away from his grandma. His eyes darted around the screen attempting to find a familiar face.
“But, that’s just it. Now, with your mama, you must find these same kinds of moments to be with her too.”
With some effort, Liz stood. Her knees cracked and pins pricked the bottom of her left foot. “I’ll let you sit here and watch more. If you need anything, just let me know.” She kissed the top of his head and hobbled to the kitchen.
Joseph remained fixated on the broadcast. Walter Cronkite’s voice from that day in 1969 narrated.
“Since the earliest time, Man has imagined this moment… the moment when his fellow Man would make the first journey to the Moon. Now the time had come. In the sixth decade of the Twentieth Century, the ancient dream was to become a reality.”
The voice from the television describing the amazing events twenty-years ago drew Joseph closer to the images. He blocked out the conversations happening around him in the room where Rachel’s friends remained. Their conversations provided color commentary of the earlier funeral service.
“It was a lovely funeral.”
“Her dress looked so beautiful.”
“Did you see how her hair looked? She never wore curls like that?”
“I know. She looked like a totally different person lying there.”
“What will happen with Joseph now that his parents have died?”
Hours had passed. Various people, strangers to Joseph, had leaned over to hug and offer their condolences. He whispered thank you each time someone told him good-bye.
He remained entrapped by the images of the Moon, his eyes transfixed by grainy image projections. This was his way to escape his sadness, his opportunity to connect with his daddy in this moment.
After everyone had left, Liz came back
to Joseph, who had fallen asleep. She lifted his lifeless body off the carpeted floor and walked him upstairs to his bedroom.
He got into his blue pajamas covered with yellow stars and the planets of the Milky Way. Joseph scanned his bedroom and placed a toy car, a picture of his mama, and a belt on a table beside his bed.
“Why did you put those things there just now?” Liz brushed his hair from his eyes as his head lay on his pillow.
Joseph smiled. “These were the last few things Mama gave me. And, I wanna connect with her like I did with Daddy, today.”
With a gulp under her breath, she patted the top of his head. “That’s so sweet. You get some sleep, and I will see you in the morning.”
Her knees cracked as she stood from his bedside and stepped to his bedroom door, turning off the lights. She closed the door behind her leaning against it. Tears rolled down her cheeks.
She whispered, “Oh Rachel, I miss you so much. Lord, give me the strength to take care of Joseph.”
After composing herself, she stood back up, reached and turned off the hall lights. The hardwood floor creaked as she walked through the hallway to Rachel’s bedroom.
The light coming from underneath the door disappeared stealing Joe’s sight of the items he had placed on his bedside table. He rolled onto his back staring at the black ceiling overhead. Memories of his mama when she was last healthy flashed into his dreams as he fell asleep.
March 26, 1989
Pasadena, Texas, Easter Sunday
THE DARK-GREEN OLDSMOBILE glistened in the bright sunlight. Reflections of white, billowing clouds passed over the hood as the car toured through the neighborhood on its way to Middle Creek Baptist Church of Pasadena a few miles from Joseph’s house. It was a glorious morning for a drive in southeast Texas; but the afternoon forecast was calling for approaching storms.
Joseph sat in the expansive backseat on the white upholstered leather. In his unbuckled seat, he leaned forward and propped up his arms and head on the middle of the front, high-back bench seat. He could not help but notice how pretty his mama looked as she drove him and Grandma Liz to church.
Sunday mornings were Joseph’s favorite. This was the only day Rachel allowed him to wear his nice clothes. He liked the attention from the older church women his pressed black pants and white, long-sleeved dress shirt brought.
