Here is a Flash Fiction story I wrote that was recently rejected by a Flash Fiction contest. I hope you enjoy it. ---
Gerald cried as he stepped from the
space capsule. He was 93 years old and he made it to the moon. To die.
All his life, Gerald stared up at
the night sky; wishing he could be an astronaut. He dreamed of weightlessness
and being lost among the vastness of space. He drooled over every star chart
and astronomy book he could find; every interview with an astronaut, every TV
show about space travel. He wanted more than anything to be someone who walked
on the moon.
He wasn’t a great school student.
“He’s too much of a day-dreamer,” said his teachers to his disappointed
parents. His friends called him a nerd, girls pointed and giggled at him and
shame coagulated inside. He stopped looking up at the night sky with desire,
replacing it with disdain for his own foolish wants. He ended his outer space
quest, like prize fighter dropping his arms in the 1st round, knowing there was
no way he could defeat his opponent.
The space suit was lighter on the
moon. He was able to move freely as he turned to step down the capsule ladder.
He felt the lightness one feels when they see the love of their life for the
first time, rather than the lightness of atmosphere. He turned and reached into
the doorway of the capsule and grabbed his ragged aluminum chair. He fought
hard with the Space Administration to let him take his old folding patio chair
with him. It was where he wanted to sit when he took his final breath.
In college he met a woman. Beth had the stars
in her eyes. The same stars Gerald had abandoned in his lowered self-esteem.
Beth’s eyes sparkled with dreams of space and math. She was so much better at
Math than Gerald. He knew that he had to be a part of her life. He felt that if
he could just be with this woman his life would come into focus and all the
torments of his youth would disappear into those sparkling, radiant eyes. He
convinced her to be his math tutor. She reluctantly agreed.
They were shy with each other at
first, awkward and bound by the social values of their times. It was when she
spoke of Space, did their passions get the better of them. Nights were spent
under the blanket of the twinkling sky as they whiled away the hours discussing
otherworldly fascinations. Gerald, lying on his side, resting his head in his
hand, listened to Beth talk excitedly about the potential for life on other
worlds, about the incomprehensibleness of the universe, and how very small Earth
really was.
He used her line about how truly
small the Earth was in their wedding vows and that being a small planet, they
should make the most of it together. She practically leapt into his arms when
she said, “I do.”
Gerald stepped onto the lunar surface.
He was trying not to breath so heavily but it was hard to contain his
excitement. His Moon boot kicked up a small cloud of regolith as he stepped
forward. Gerald stood on the surface of the Moon and looked up towards the
glittering stars. “Oh Beth, we made it honey,” he said out loud. He reached up
to wipe the tears from his cheeks but his big space-suit glove clonked on his
helmet visor. He chuckled at himself.
He laughed at all the years he
spent denying himself the simple joy of looking up at the night sky because he
was too busy or too tired. Beth became a nurse. Gerald became an insurance
agent after college. They both needed good jobs to support their growing
family. The telescope was hidden away in a box in their first apartment, then
regulated to the attic once they got the house.
They tried to kindle their love of
astronomy in their children but they didn’t seem to care too much. There was no
novelty in it for the kids it seemed. They grew into a happy family however.
They never wanted for much and felt that after their long, hard busy days, they
had each other to sooth the rough edges life can sharpen.
Gerald walked on the surface of the
moon. He giggled with glee as he bounded along in great leaps. He didn’t feel
at all like a 93-year-old man. He felt like that little boy jumping on his bed,
pretending to be Neil Armstrong. His heart monitor started beeping and a
warning appeared on the visor about his exertion levels. He didn’t have much
time to get to the spot he’d picked out. The spot where he could look back at
the small Earth and think about his beloved Beth.
Beth was 82 when she died. Gerald
was holding her hand, promising her that he’d take her to the Moon when she let
out her last Earthly breath. He felt her body go cold. He felt as if he’d been
clubbed on the head and a thief was making off with his most treasured
possession. He wept for days. He wept at her funeral, at her grave and in the
bed they shared. He entered the Moon Travel contest on a whim, something he did
while so deeply mourning for his wife that he was genuinely surprised when he
won the contest.
Gerald unfolded the old chair and
placed it carefully. He gingerly lowered himself into the seat and looked up
into the universe. He opened the pocket of his spacesuit and pulled out Beth’s
ashes. He held them in a clenched hand. Remembering the love he had. Still had.
He opened the vial of ashes and shook them, mixing with the moon’s surface.
“Good-by love,” he said. Beth’s ashes drifted weightlessly into Space. Gerald
turned his oxygen off. He turned the vitals monitor off. He leaned back in the
folding chair and looked up.
Gerald died on the moon. Just as he
planned. Like he dreamed.
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