Space Oddity

by Christopher Edge

  ‘And how about you?’ he asks, doing a sudden double-take as he glances across at my dad. ‘Do you want an ordinary dad or a dad who’s out of this world?’

  I shake my head as I turn to look at the embarrassment sitting next to me. Everybody else’s dad is wearing a sensible fleece or a waterproof jacket – the perfect gear for a camping weekend – but my dad seems to be dressed in a spacesuit. Well, it’s not exactly a spacesuit, but a one-piece ski suit made out of the same shiny silver material. Dad says this reflects the heat inside, keeping him toasty and warm. I think it makes him look like a jacket potato. The shiny foil rustles as Dad turns towards me with a hopeful smile.

  I just want an ordinary dad, but how can I say this now?

  ‘Out of this world,’ I finally sigh.

  ‘OK then,’ Flip grins as he claps his hands together. ‘It’s time for some close encounters of the fun kind. Dadventurers and Kidsplorers, it’s time to reach for the stars.’

  GRAVITY ISN’T ANYTHING TO BE SCARED OF

  I don’t dare look down as I stand on the swaying platform.

  Flip said this was going to be fun, but as I cling to a rope dangling from a metal hook that’s holding me twenty-five metres above the forest floor, fun’s the last thing I’m thinking of. I shuffle forward to the edge of the platform, the harness that’s keeping me safe digging into some particularly uncomfortable places.

  Ahead of me I can see the obstacles that are slung between the treetops: narrow beams and swaying rope bridges, tightrope walks and Tarzan swings. A large rope net is stretched between the tallest of the trees, like some giant spider’s web, and above this I glimpse the final platform that leads to the double zip wire down.

  It didn’t look this high when we were on the ground.

  That’s where Flip showed us the ropes, training us how to use the safety cables and pulleys that attach to our harnesses, each one colour-coded so we know exactly where to clip them. It all seemed so easy down there, but that was before I climbed the rope ladder that led up to this obstacle course in the sky. My hands shake as I unclip the carabiner, the metal hook clacking as I hook it to the red safety line that’s stretched alongside the obstacles.

  ‘Come on, Jake,’ Amba calls out from across the abyss. ‘You can do it!’

  All the others are already back down on the ground. I’ve watched them wobbling across the obstacles, two by two, each dad and kid taking it in turns to lead the way, just like Flip showed us to. Now there’s just Dad and me left on this first wooden platform and I don’t think I can go any further.

  I hear the outdoor instructor’s voice float up from the forest floor.

  ‘Now for the last two,’ he shouts. ‘Take it easy, guys, and you’ll beat the treetop challenge in no time.’

  At the sound of this shout, I make the mistake of glancing down and feel my stomach flip. The ground seems to swim into view and I glimpse the outdoor instructor’s upturned face staring up at me from so far away. I freeze, my fingers tightening around the safety line. We’re even higher than I thought.

  Then Dad taps me on the shoulder, the shock of this almost launching me off the edge.

  ‘Are you ready?’

  I shake my head, fear thumping in my chest as I slowly back away from the edge.

  ‘I – I can’t do it.’

  Standing next to me, Dad looks surprised, the lines around his blue-green eyes creasing in concern.

  ‘What’s the matter, Jake?’ he asks, and his gaze flicks from my face to the obstacle course ahead. He gives a tug on the safety line, making my stomach lurch. ‘You don’t need to worry. It’s completely safe.’

  I shake my head again, barely able to get my words out in reply.

  ‘It’s . . . too . . . high,’ I stutter. ‘What if I fall?’

  Dad rests his arm on my shoulder, the gently reassuring weight of this helping me to take a breath.

  ‘The only reason things fall is because of gravity,’ Dad explains, plucking a leaf from an overhanging branch and letting this flutter to the ground. ‘And gravity isn’t anything to be scared of. It’s just the bending of space and time. It can help you to speed up or slow down and even change direction. And if you use it cleverly, it can even make it seem like you can fly.’

  Lifting his arm from my shoulder, Dad clips his carabiner on to the safety line ahead of mine.

  ‘Watch.’

  Then my heart leaps in my chest as Dad takes a flying leap from the edge of the platform.

  ‘Dad!’

  The safety line whirrs as Dad lands in the middle of the narrow beam, his darting footsteps catapulting him forward so it looks like he’s skimming the trees. Everyone else took ages to cross this first obstacle, but my dad’s cleared it in seconds flat.

  Using his momentum, he swings round the platform that rings the next tree trunk, launching himself on to the swaying rope bridge that climbs to the next. I hear the shocked gasps coming from those watching down below as Dad uses this to bounce even higher. His springing steps make it look like he’s dancing in mid-air.

  ‘Come on, Jake!’ he shouts over his shoulder. ‘It’s just like gymnastics.’

  With a beckoning wave to encourage me on, Dad grabs hold of the Tarzan swing at the end of the rope bridge and then jumps into the unknown. I watch open-mouthed as he soars through the empty air. For a second it looks like he is flying, his hands letting go of the swing as it reaches the crest of its arc. Gravity takes him the rest of the way – a relieved cheer erupting from all those down below as Dad lands safely in the middle of the cargo net that’s stretched between the trees.

  He made it look easy, but as Dad scrambles up the rope net to reach the zip wire at the top, I still don’t know if I can follow him.

  My throat feels dry as I pace out the obstacles in my mind. Gravity isn’t anything to be scared of, Dad said. It’s just like gymnastics.

  And that’s one thing I’m good at.

  Carefully checking that the metal loop of my carabiner is still fastened to the red safety line, I take a deep breath and then launch myself straight off the edge.

  For a second I’m flying, then I feel the safety line tugging me back as I land slap bang on the spot I was aiming for – right in the middle of the beam. It’s slippery from the rain but, as my feet adjust to keep my balance, I realize that it’s actually three times as wide as the beam I practise on at Gym Stars. And this means I can really show off some of my tricks.

  Adrenalin racing, I launch myself forward in a tumbling run, somersaulting head over heels as I soar through the treetops. I can hear the whirr of the safety line ringing in my ear as I reach the end of the beam. I’m not looking down, my gaze still firmly fixed on the obstacles ahead.

  Following Dad’s lead, I swing round the platform and land with a boing on the bouncing rope bridge. Trampolining forward, I can hear the others ‘oohing’ and ‘aahing’ as each bounce takes me higher still. Dad was right. Gravity’s just the bending of space and time and, as I twist to grab hold of the Tarzan swing, it’s making me feel like I can do anything.

  ‘Go on, Jake!’ Amba calls out from the ground below.

  With a grin, I swing out across the abyss, the rope net racing up to meet me as I grasp hold of the webbing. Everyone’s cheering me on as I scramble to the top.

  Dad’s waiting for me there, holding out his hand to help me up as I clamber on to the final platform.

  ‘Well done, Jake,’ he says, greeting me with a grin. ‘I knew you could do it.’

  Dad still looks ridiculous in his silver ski suit, but I can’t stop myself from grinning back at him.

  ‘Ready for the final challenge?’ he asks.

  I nod my head.

  ‘You bet,’ I reply. ‘All we’ve got left now is the easy part.’

  It’s time to fly.

  Looping myself on to the zip wire, I look at the ground below. It’s a long way down, but somehow I don’t feel scared any more. Dad showed me the way to beat my fear and, as he loops hi
mself on to the zip wire parallel to mine, I start to think that maybe this weekend was a good idea after all.

  ‘On the count of three,’ Dad says, the two of us holding on to our zip wire straps as we stand on the platform edge. ‘One, two, wheeeeeeeeee!’

  Gravity whips his words away as I step into thin air and feel myself fall. The cable buzzes with a quickening whine as I hurtle through the trees. I feel my skin tingling with excitement as I fly through the air, the world rushing towards me at what feels like super-speed. I can’t stop myself from joining in with Dad’s whoops of triumph as we race towards the landing site. I can see the rest of the dads and kids waiting for us there, everyone clapping wildly as the zip wire brakes kick in and we hit the ground in a shower of wood chips.

  I can’t stop myself from smiling as I pick myself up off the ground. My skin is still tingling as I turn towards my dad with a grin, but then I see the look of surprise on his face as the clapping quickly fades away.

  I look around.

  Everyone is staring at me. Flip Foxley has turned as white as a sheet, whilst Damon and Amba just look really worried.

  ‘What’s the matter?’ I ask, brushing the wood chips from my clothes. Then I catch a glimpse of my hands and stare at them in surprise.

  They seem to have turned bright green.

  THE MIDDLEWICH INCIDENT

  It wasn’t just my hands that turned green, but the skin on my face too. That’s why everyone was staring at me. At first I panicked, thinking I was turning into the Incredible Hulk, but Dad managed to calm me down. He told everyone I was having an allergic reaction. He reckoned the broccoli and stilton cup-a-soup that we’d had for lunch must’ve turned my skin a bright shade of green. Dad says I must be chlorophyll-intolerant, just like him.

  My skin’s turned back to normal now. It only lasted for a few minutes, but I’m never eating broccoli again. So that’s a positive, I suppose.

  The negative is all the jokes about little green men I’ve had to listen to as we gather round this flying saucer that’s still parked in the middle of the woods. Flip has brought us here for the final challenge of the day, the sun setting behind the trees casting a strange golden glow across the fake spaceship.

  ‘Don’t worry,’ Flip says as Amba pokes it with a pointy stick. ‘This flying saucer is just a sculpture. It marks the spot where a UFO was spotted here in Middlewich Forest, twelve years ago.’

  One of the dads starts humming under his breath.

  Doo-doo-DOO-doo, doo-doo-DOO-doo.

  Flip just ignores this.

  ‘Was it aliens?’ Amba asks, keeping a tight grip on her stick.

  ‘Some people say it was just a shooting star,’ Flip replies mysteriously as the darkness in the forest grows. ‘Several eyewitnesses saw strange glowing spheres falling into the forest that evening but when the police went to investigate, all they found was a trail of phosphorescent footsteps leading from this clearing.’

  Flip pauses, a spooky silence hanging over the woods as night creeps across the sky.

  ‘As the police followed the glowing trail, one of the officers claimed that she glimpsed the figure of a spaceman running through the trees. When she shouted for him to stop, the figure just vanished into thin air but, before he disappeared, the policewoman says she caught a glimpse of an alien face.’

  As the shadows lengthen, Flip turns his gaze in my direction.

  ‘She says that it looked bright green.’

  Some people start to giggle, thinking that Flip is making fun of me. I feel myself start to blush. I wish I hadn’t drunk that cup-a-soup . . .

  ‘So for your final challenge this evening,’ Flip continues, ignoring the giggles as Dad shuffles his feet next to me. ‘I’m going to send you on an alien hunt.’

  A sudden flash of light makes everyone jump.

  ‘Sorry,’ Dad says as he waves his torch around. ‘Actually, don’t you think it’s getting rather dark? I’m not sure any kind of alien hunt is a good idea right now. There are a lot of trip hazards out there in the woods.’

  ‘And that’s why I gave you these torches,’ Flip replies, raising his hand to block out the torchlight’s glare. ‘Don’t worry, Mr Jones, the only danger you’ll face on this alien hunt is the possibility of missing out on a campfire treat.’

  Flip gestures in the direction of the main campsite.

  ‘I’ve hidden some unidentified flying goodies on the trail through the trees. Bring any you find back to the yurt and we’ll have a feast there under the stars.’

  Everyone else lights up their torches, the flashing beams showing which way to go.

  ‘Remember to keep your eyes peeled,’ Flip calls out, as we set off down the path. ‘The treasure is out there somewhere.’

  Dad tries to put his arm around my shoulder, but I quickly shake it off.

  ‘I’m going to walk with my friends,’ I say, hurrying to catch up with Damon and Amba. The rest of the Dadventurers and Kidsplorers are already racing ahead, everyone eager to be first to find any extraterrestrial treats.

  ‘Hey, Jake,’ Amba says as I fall into step beside them. ‘Are you feeling better now?’

  ‘I’m fine,’ I say. ‘It was just some stupid allergy.’

  ‘It didn’t stop you showing off your Gym Star skills,’ she grins. ‘I thought you were going to end up in orbit when you started somersaulting across that obstacle course. Weren’t you scared?’

  ‘I was a bit at first,’ I reply, glancing back over my shoulder as Dad hangs back in a sulk. ‘But I couldn’t let my dad leave me in the shade again. Not after the school concert.’

  ‘It was out of this world,’ Amba says. ‘It almost looked like the two of you were flying.’

  I grin, but before I can say anything else Damon chips in. ‘Do you think Flip was making up that story about a spaceman landing in the woods?’ he says, peering nervously into the trees. ‘Aliens don’t exist, do they?’

  ‘What about Roswell?’ Amba replies, flipping her torch up so it rests beneath her chin. The bright-white beam gives her face an unearthly glow. ‘A UFO crash-landed there years ago. Apparently they captured the aliens and took them to a top-secret military base at Area 51 to dissect them. Maybe the alien who landed here was a friend of theirs and came looking for revenge.’

  ‘Stop it, Amba,’ Damon scowls. ‘You’re spooking me out.’

  Up ahead, the trail starts to twist and I watch the waving torch beams of the others slowly disappear from view. It’s getting darker and, as I glance up into the night sky, I see the stars are starting to come out. I think about the campfire feast that Flip has promised us and my stomach starts to rumble. That broccoli and stilton cup-a-soup now seems a long time ago.

  ‘Come on,’ I say. ‘We need to catch them up.’

  ‘Wait a second,’ Amba says, stopping dead in her tracks. ‘What’s that?’

  At first I think Amba’s joking, still trying to give Damon a fright. But when I look through the trees in the direction that she’s pointing, I see a faint orange glow, almost hidden by the undergrowth.

  The others must have missed this.

  ‘It must be an unidentified flying goodie,’ I grin. ‘An alien treat and I’m going to get it.’

  Taking care not to slip, I head off the path in the direction of the light.

  ‘Be careful,’ Damon shouts.

  The ground is muddy underfoot, soggy puddles hiding beneath the branches as I pick my way through the trees. The eerie glow gets brighter as I peel back the leaves, revealing a luminous Sainsbury’s bag that’s been left hanging from a low branch.

  ‘What is it?’ Amba calls out.

  Reaching up to unhook the glowing bag, I open it up to take a look inside. I just hope it’s not a radioactive dog poo.

  It isn’t.

  The shining glow is coming from a bicycle lamp that’s been left inside along with an intergalactic surprise.

  FUN-SIZE FLYING SAUCER MARSHMALLOWS, the packet says, a picture of a friendly green alien
staring out of the front. THEY TASTE OUT OF THIS WORLD!

  ‘It’s definitely alien,’ I shout, reaching inside the bag to grab hold of the party pack of marshmallows.

  And that’s when Dad comes running through the trees.

  ‘Get down, Jake!’ he shouts, pushing me to one side as he rips the glowing bag from my hands. I feel the packet split as it’s torn from my fingers, flying saucers soaring through the air as I slip and land face down in the mud.

  SPLAT!

  Spluttering in surprise, I lift my head to see a fleet of marshmallow spaceships floating in front of me in the muddy puddle. I’m soaking wet, slime clinging to my clothes as I scramble to my feet.

  ‘You – you pushed me!’

  Dad shakes his head grimly as he keeps his gaze fixed on the glowing bag in his hand.

  ‘I saved you, Jake,’ he says, his silvery ski suit shimmering in the unearthly light. ‘Inside this bag is a piece of alien technology that could turn you into a pile of smouldering atoms.’

  Cautiously reaching inside the bag, he pulls out the bicycle lamp. Its shining beam illuminates the look of surprise now spreading across Dad’s face.

  ‘Oh.’

  His gaze swivels towards me, realization slowly dawning as he sees the mud-splattered marshmallows scattered around my feet. My clothes drip soggily on to this feast of flying saucers as my anger quickly grows.

  ‘Oh no.’

  I JUST WANT TO GO HOME

  I squat inside the pop-up tent, stuffing my ruined clothes into a rucksack. Dad’s not back yet and in the distance I can hear the rest of them laughing around the campfire.

  Laughing at me.

  Shaking my head, I pull the drawstring of my rucksack tight. I’ve packed all my stuff and now I just want to go home.

  It was bad enough being pushed into the mud, but what made it worse was Damon and Amba’s reaction. At first my friends looked so worried when they raced to my side, but then, as their gazes flicked from my dad to me and back again, Amba couldn’t stop herself from giggling.