Fiction

May

Being Your Walls

Jay Heath

Wherever you are…I hope this reaches you. Though the space between us is farther than we can ever imagine, this message is sent with the promise of you receiving it.

It’s cold here. Cold and lonely. I check and recheck all the panels. The gauges are eyed closely. The computer controls it all, but I have nothing better to do. I have to fill up my time somehow. Without these pointless tasks and chores, my mind would have left me a long time ago.

Are you out there?

The ring on my finger reminds me of that night. Angel wings fluttered behind you, showering me in a storm of feathers. The moon hung and froze, perfectly placed to cast the most faultless reflection on the water. Though heaven may be an abstract word, an attempt to explain that which cannot be described, as the moon slowed its orbit until it was directly behind your head, forming a halo that surrounded your face, framing it in absolute beauty, I knew that if I died and went to heaven, it would be this picture, this moment, this instant, frozen and displayed for me to gaze upon for an eternity, never blinking, never looking away. This ring, that night.

Can anyone here me? Anyone?

Even though that moment and that night seemed to pause, time halted just for us, bending science just to fit our desire and our wishes, it was not permanent. Time resumed its customary march, taking the moon with it, and that night, never to be returned, only able to be revisited in our memories, filed away in a faulty mind that can distort the truth, hide the facts, and encourage the imagination. Though time may have influenced my perception on that night, deep down I know it’s accurate.

Houston, do you read me? Houston, do you copy?

The morning came, as it always does, and the alarm clock sounded, though no sleep was interrupted, for we both lie there awake, unspeaking, our lips closed and locked, but our thoughts drifting back in forth in a private communication with each other. The alarm clock rang, reminding me of what I must do, reminding me to leave you behind, reminding me of my obligations.

Why did I listen to the alarm clock instead of my heart? Instead of staying there in bed with you forever, your body always only a reach away, just an arm and finger away, instead of staying in bed with you forever, I got dressed. I kissed you goodbye. I whispered I loved you. You didn’t respond.

Could that be the last moment of us? The defining moment, and it passed with no words, just a whisper and silence. You didn’t want me to go. It strained us. I told you I had to. But I didn’t. I didn’t have to do this, I had to stay with you, and I didn’t.

It’s cold where I am. It’s gone beyond just the normal shivers. I feel icicles in my bones, my blood slowing to a molasses like flow, a crawl of sorts, moving slowly throughout my veins. It’s almost as if I have to remind my heart to keep beating, and sleep comes uneasy for fear that if I’m not awake, moving, keeping the blood moving, reminding my heart to not give up, if I’m not doing these things, I’ll never get back.

An answer…please…from anyone…help…

I went farther than anyone had ever gone before. We knew the risks. The promise of death, slow or quick, was always lurking behind every unknown noise, every flashing button, every check up call. Every time base came on the radio, my heart stopped, waiting for them to deliver the news. Something is malfunctioning. It can’t be repaired. You have twenty minutes. Do you have any last requests? Would you like to say goodbye to your wife? Would you like to speak to a priest? And the man in the back of the room, furiously recording notes, how our faces looked when the news was told, how we took the bombshell, any sort of important detail that could be written down, later to be used in a book on the latest space failure.

But that message never came. Our last will and testaments were never dug up and executed. And everyday that passed without a catastrophic event was viewed as a success and one step closer to home.

Where is everyone?

Then one day the message never came. The scheduled time came and went. We waited. Hours past. We waited. We thought maybe there were minor communication errors. We waited. Then days. Then a week. We changed our course, cut our mission short, consequences be damned, and we headed back for Earth. We turned around, our aborting the objectives to come back.

I was scared. I kept waiting for a hole to rip open, tearing away at the walls until we were sucked out, where I would float aimlessly until I died, and it scared me more than death, that feeling of being alone, millions of miles of nothing, but me and I’m alone. The darkness unwraps itself, slowly descending from its perch, stretching out its cold dead hands and enveloping them around me, covering me with nothing but its emptiness and doubt, its vacant and blank eyes staring at me, lulling me into a state where I give up. Yet no matter if I give up, I’ll still be there, the vacuum my coffin, the loneliness forever.

But my fear for myself faded the day we saw the fires. Through the telescope, smoke and fire, throughout the world was visible. Maybe it was just the weather. Maybe just clouds. Maybe we were just getting excitable due to our situation. Maybe the lack of sleep was starting to take its toll. Maybe this was the answer to the lack of contact.

My fear for myself faded, and my thoughts are with you. I am pushing this ship as fast as it can go. They tell me to slow down, to wait, to keep everything within the normal limits, but I don’t listen. My thoughts are with you, but that’s not enough, I’m not there with you. Whatever is going on there, just hold on, a bit longer.

I hope you’ll wait for me there. I hope your eyes are the first thing mine meet, the sun stinging my eyes, filling with tears from the sudden brightness and from you. Your perfume, the same as always, the scent that stays with me even when I’m alone, locked in the corner of my mind, it's there, and I go there when I need peace. In my arms, my God, we are perfect, two pieces of the puzzle, perfectly locked together. And every tear, every choice, every breath, we have to let go of them, and then all that’s left is us, the stage is set.

Answer me…please…someone…anyone…what’s going on…why did you abandon us…

Baby…hold on.

I’m almost there.