As Victor made his way down the bridge towards the skyscraper vessel that would take him from Texas to the ISS, he could only think of his son. As a single father for the past eight years, Victor tried to spend whatever time he could when he wasn’t working with Sam. Clumsily playing catch in the yard, cheering on their losing team at the local stadium, or sharing a laugh over a meal of burgers and milkshakes. He found himself reminiscing of these times with each step towards the unknown.
Victor pulled the safety belts taut around his body until he was wrapped like a braciole, his helmet partially restricting his peripheral view of the cabin. Beads of sweat trickled down his forehead from the suit of armor to protect him from the elements. He was still remembering. Remembering not just the good times but the not-so-good ones as well. He thought of his ex-wife dragging her oversized luggage out the front door of their old home. He thought of Sam with tears in his eyes, his face scarlet with anger, because he had been late for picking him up from school again. He thought of the mountain of papers on his desk at home that he wished he could ignite into the night sky à la Fight Club, effectively ridding him of his financial responsibilities.
It’s unusual to find in this day and age, but being in this line of work was all Victor ever wanted to do with his life. As a kid, he would make little space sounds with his mouth from the cabin of his cardboard ship in his backyard. His room was ornate with glow-in-the-dark stars and planets. He had to be forcibly removed from the theater after the end of a show at the planetarium, his eyes hypnotized and his mind brimming with stories of the world outside of his own.
In high school, he probably saw Apollo 13 a dozen times. Wasted all his allowance on seeing that movie over and over again. And though It didn’t sway his feelings about going to space one day, he did become an enormous Tom Hanks fan. Not overly popular, he focused on his studies – math, physics, etc. Victor’s goal was to get into a good school so he could one day look down at the Earth and think about how small his peers were.
After flipping and pulling an array of different switches and levers, he heard the voice of the control room in his ear. He started to converse about his mission with the woman with the raspy voice on the other end and though he sounded ready, mentally he was ready, emotionally he couldn’t be sure.
On Sam’s tenth birthday, he had taken him to Disneyland, their first vacation together since the separation. Through all the Mickey Mouse waffles, souvenir hats, and miles of drudging through the California heat, Sam was beaming. Victor would never forget the look on his face that long weekend. That face was the battery that energized his ability to complete his mission. Everything he did was for that face.
Eighteen months wasn’t such a long time, was it? It would go by like a snap of the fingers. Sam would be thirteen when Victor returned home. A teenager already? Jesus, where does the time go? Victor was hopeful that Sam would still possess the same youthful glow, low-maintenance spirit, and admiration for his father when he returned. He hoped he understood that he couldn’t decline this mission for reasons he couldn’t yet understand and that what happened between his mother and Victor wasn’t his fault.
Victor worried Sam blamed himself for their separation. That somehow, he was the cause of the fighting, the adultery, and the spitefulness. In truth, Sam made the situation a world easier to deal with for Victor. Having a single source of honesty and truth in his life was the greatest gift he could ever receive.
What kind of a person would he be when he returned? Sure, Sam might change a bit just by staying in his Aunt’s home with her crazy four other kids and yappy dog, but how would the mission change Victor? He didn’t have a clue. From what he could ascertain from the others who had completed missions such as these before, he would feel somewhat alien upon returning, at least for a bit. It’s ironic that the ones born on Earth, full of distinctly human experiences only to leave for a short time, feel alien when they return home.
Victor thought of his sister, the future but hopefully temporary guardian of Sam and her rambunctious litter of adolescents running around her expansive mansion in the hills. They had money as her husband was a big-time hedge fund manager. They rarely sat down for dinner as a family, attended each other’s sporting events, and never shared the special moments Victor did with Sam, even with their more humble surroundings.
While the station counted down a number at a time in his ear, Victor mouthed the prayer he had left by Sam’s bedside before he left. Not a religious person by any stretch of the imagination, and not setting foot in a church in decades, the mission made Victor grab on to whatever semblance of hope he could find. The countdown ended – flames shot out from beneath the ship that rattled the entire place like a six-point-five magnitude quake. Victor opened his eyes, the memories still firm in place, as he began his ascent into the unknown.