“Oops!” cried Neville. His heart leapt into his throat. He leaned forward and tapped escape. Nothing changed. He tapped backspace several times. “Oh dear,” he said.
Rochelle adjusted her underwire and turned to Neville. Her eyes flicked between Neville and the keyboard. She wrinkled her brow. “Whassamatter?”
Neville ignored Rochelle. He wiggled the mouse, then banged it on the desk. Still nothing. Neville said, “I think I just…” He puffed out his cheeks. Air escaped his lips as if from a pricked balloon. “Yeah.”
Rochelle put down her copy of Celebrity Hairstyles and followed Neville’s eyes to the overhead screen. The screen showing the moon flashed bright white, then went black. The steady chatter that had been pumping through from Lunar Lander 7 crackled, then became white noise.
“Oh, honey!” said Rochelle, pointing to the now moon-less screen that had gone black. She glanced at the other screens that still had images of orbital trajectories and other complicated spacey things, trying to puzzle out what she was no longer seeing. After a moment, she said “Honey, was that the moon?”
Neville rubbed his receding hairline with a thumb and forefinger. “Yeah.”
The phone on Neville’s desk lit up.
Rochelle glanced from Neville to the phone and back to Neville. “You better answer,” she said.
The phone rang and rang. Neville made no move to answer.
Rochelle blinked, then reached for Neville’s phone, mumbling about how she don’t play like that. She punched the speaker button.
“Neville?!” came General Nassar’s voice.
“Yeah,” said Neville, eyes shut.
“What happened to the moon?”
“Well,” said Neville. Eyes closed, Neville tapped his forehead with his middle finger. “I might have just destroyed it.”
Rochelle leaned back in her chair. She put both hands atop her head and puffed out her cheeks. Her eyes bugged out. She whistled one of those whistles that starts high and then falls in pitch.
From the speaker: silence.
Then: “What do you mean might have?”
“I’m pretty sure it’s not there anymore,” said Neville. “Out there in space, I mean.”
Rochelle rapped her fingertips on the desk, and whispered, “Ho leee sshhhit.”
A nearby door opened. Boots clomped on the floor behind Neville and a pair of strong hands planted themselves on the back of his chair, rocking it backwards. Neville put his arms out for balance and found himself staring up at the broad chest and fat, upside-down face of General Nassar.
“Neville, where is my moon?” he spat.
“I think I blew it up,” said Neville.
The back of General Nassar’s hand struck Neville’s cheek, turning Neville’s head sidewise. “Whadda you mean you think you blew it up? You blow it up or not?”
“I did,” said Neville.
The General frowned. He glanced up at the screen that was black, then back down at Neville.
“Can you fix it?”
Neville shook his head. “It’s gone, sir,” said Neville.
“Whadda you mean gone? You mean like that planet in Star Wars?” said Nassar. “Alderwhatsit?”
“I think so,” said Neville.
“Oh honey!” said Rochelle, unwrapping a stick of gum and popping it in her mouth and laughing until she bounced. “That is seriously gonna mess some shit up.”
Derrick was standing nearby. No one liked Derrick – he was weird – but he had been at mission control longer than either Rochelle or Neville. He pushed his glasses up his nose with his thumb and said, “It’s okay. We don’t need it.”
“Planets need moons,” said General Nassar.
“It’s just a rock that orbits,” said Derrick. “It serves no purpose.”
“The hell it don’t,” said Rochelle.
“Tides,” said Washburn. Washburn was new, and no one knew much about him. He set down his coffee mug and flapped a pack of sugar. He tore the pack open and poured it into his coffee. He stirred his coffee with his middle finger, then popped his finger between his lips. He noticed everyone staring at him. “No moon, no tides,” he said. He didn’t realize his finger was thrusting up at everyone.
Derrick shook his head and pushed his glasses up again. “We don’t need tides.”
“The hell we don’t,” said the General, nodding to Rochelle for approval.
“Who don’t need tides?” said Rochelle.
“What I’m saying,” said Washburn, “is there are intertidal ecosystems that exist between low and high water lines, and that organisms live in them.”
“We don’t need those organisms,” said Derrick.
Washburn said, “Listen, I’m a space guy, so I don’t know. But there are intertidal ecosystems. And the biological rhythms of certain creatures correspond to a tidal cycle. So like, gestation, or egg hatching might be affected. Or the female period.”
Everyone stared at Washburn. Rochelle chortled and said, “Are you shittin’ me?”
“I would never shit on you,” said Washburn. “The menstrual cycle occurs about once per lunar month and just about corresponds to the tidal period. No pun intended.”
Rochelle laughed and rocked in her chair and fanned herself with her Celebrity Hairstyles and said, “Oh hell no!” Her ‘hell’ sounded like hail. “Somebody better put that moon back where it go, Neville.”
Neville glanced at the screen where the moon used to be. He glanced down at his lap. He picked at his fingernails. He jumped out of his chair and ran for the door.
“Oh hail no!” said Rochelle, as Neville’s chair rolled past.
The necks and heads of Washburn, Derrick, and General Nassar turned in unison, watching Neville go.
“Why ain’t y’all stoppin’ him?” said Rochelle. Neville’s chair bounced off the far wall and rolled back.
A voice crackled over the speakers as the connection with Lunar Lander 7 was reestablished. “Uh…Houston?” it said.
“Yeah,” said General Nassar.
“It’s Steve. From space?”
“Yeah,” said General Nassar.
“So, we were going to land on the moon, but uh…”
Rochelle shook her head and laughed. “Good work, y’all,” she said. “I’m going on break.”
__________________
inspired by a prompt from Sandpaper Blues
Hahaha! That is awesome! I was laughing the whole way through!
“It’s Steve, from space…”
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Glad you liked it. I was a little afraid it would be not at all what you would have wanted to read. Thanks for the prompt! It was a fun one!
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It was great! Excellent job with characterization! It’s so hard to create such realized characters at all, especially in so short a space.
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Great yarn, and I learned that women’s periods may be tied to the tides. Hmm.
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Well, I got that off Wikipedia, and as we all know, everything on Wikipedia is rock solid fact, right? 😉
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Wikipedia: the source of all knowledge in the 21st century.
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So, at the end of the day, who got mooned?
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Either everyone or no one, I’m not sure which.
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You need to keep track of that stuff. For when you are famous.
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Oh my. Keeping track of things is not a strength of mine.
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Poor, Neville. Is it the end for us all, or is there a part 2?
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Well, I would think we would be able to pull through, but who knows. Part 2 won’t be coming from me, I’m afraid, but anyone else is welcome to have a go at it. The premise was Ms. Rajala’s to begin with.
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I may get the Doctor to take a look, just in case.
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The Doctor?
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Sorry, yes I meant my very good friend Dr.Who who we’ve mentioned a few times in passing comments. I think this could be a very good case for him.
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Ah yes, of course!! That’s a good idea. He’s the man for the job!
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Really fun and lively writing here, well done! And still a bit pink on the insides, perfect.
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Many thanks, good sir. I had a blast with this one. Pink on the insides…interesting! I’m not sure I know what that means, but it sounds like a good thing!
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Sorry about that- bad reference to cooking meat. Pork loin on my mind still from last night. I like the image of the guy stirring his coffee with his finger and then flipping them off; it’s also a really great intro, pulls you right in and dunnt let go.
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Thanks! Yes, in this day of short attention spans and infinite distractions, I find myself moving on pretty quick if a piece isn’t doing it for me.
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Infinite distractions and infinite jest. You’ve got mail.
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Rochelle is an interest. I’d like to know if she knows Dick.
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Oh no, they haven’t met. But she would like him I think. He might be a bit scared of her, though.
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That’s what I thought. It might be good for her. Maybe she can be involved in our story coming up here…
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That could be risky. She is foul of tongue.
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I did notice that…I think we should give her a soap.
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She might eat it. (I didn’t say so in the story, but she’s a bit…well, she’s larger than the average bear.)
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*laughs* Goodness. That is an interest. A severe one.
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This is very good. Well done 😀
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Many thanks!
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Loved the story. Also loved the characters. Thanks. I love reading stories with surprise endings. You would be welcome to visit my short fiction stories on https://humboldtbayhome.wordpress.com/
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Thank you for reading and commenting. Yes, endings are important to me, too. Whether with a surprise, or a bang, or a confluence, the job of the ending is to give you something to take away. I’ve never cared for stories that just stop. I will pop by your site to have a look!
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Splendid tale here. There is a certain Philip Dick feeling to it. Love the responses of Rochelle too. Please do have a look at my works too at http://www.lifefailsblog.com/category/fiction/
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Thank you! I will take a look.
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