Jamie and Helen were lying on a blanket in the spot in the Jamie’s back garden that was not obscured by tree branches.
“Do you think our ancestors looked to the stars and thought of traveling there some day?” Helen asks, quickly followed by “There – right there – the ISS” her finger begins to trace an arc and she handed Jamie the binoculars.
“I don’t know. Maybe recent ancestors, but the ancients? I don’t think they understood the stars, or the planets, or the sun and moon for that matter. You saw the 1799 astronomy book in my dad’s collection, right? Did you read some of the preposterous postulations about the moon’s composition?”
“Someone is studying for their vocabulary!”
“No, seriously.” Jamie turned toward Helen hitching himself on one elbow. “I think the ancients worshiped what they didn’t understand to put it into some kind of context. I think the elders – a couple hundred years ago – tried to master what they didn’t understand to put it under some kind of control.”
“What about our recent ancestors, a couple generations or so?” Helen encouraged.
“I think they brought back the awe of the ancients, and the curiosity of the elders. They harnessed the minds of the modern age and produced people like Ted Taylor wanted to put men on Mars and Venus. And my uncle Jerry who helped make the theory reality. They would have done it too. I believe they would have done it.”
“Well, if not for the nuclear test ban treaty.”
“Details, Hellen! Why are we always at war, why is it we are always trying to destroy that which is other than us?” Jamie turned over onto his back.
Helen noticed it getting cold. “Let’s go sit on the swing.” She suggested.
They sat on a two-seater wooden swing that Grandpa George built when Jamie's parents were newlyweds. When Jamie and Helen were children, the swing was Jamie and Helen’s Pirate Ship, and their Spaceship. They’d spent many hours playing. Tonight, they sat quietly, and Jamie noticed Helen shivered. He went and grabbed the blanket off the grass – fortunately still dry. He draped one end over Helen’s shoulders, giving her enough to cover her legs. He sat next to her and brought the other end around his shoulders. It reminded him of when they were kids and made blanket forts. It was nothing like that at the same time.
They swung gently.
“Would you travel to space?” Helen asked.
“I don’t know. What about you?”
“On a mission like the Orion Project? I think it would take someone really brave to go off, all alone, with the near certainty that they would never return to Earth. Never return to their families, to anything familiar. In a way, your Uncle Jerry went off into the unknown.”
They were quiet, listening to the squeak of the swing, the wind in the trees, the music of the spheres. Helen laid her head on his shoulder. Their hands rested on the bench of the seat, their pinkies aligned, Jamie was certain he felt energy passing between them.
— Lkai
“Do you think our ancestors looked to the stars and thought of traveling there some day?” Helen asks, quickly followed by “There – right there – the ISS” her finger begins to trace an arc and she handed Jamie the binoculars.
“I don’t know. Maybe recent ancestors, but the ancients? I don’t think they understood the stars, or the planets, or the sun and moon for that matter. You saw the 1799 astronomy book in my dad’s collection, right? Did you read some of the preposterous postulations about the moon’s composition?”
“Someone is studying for their vocabulary!”
“No, seriously.” Jamie turned toward Helen hitching himself on one elbow. “I think the ancients worshiped what they didn’t understand to put it into some kind of context. I think the elders – a couple hundred years ago – tried to master what they didn’t understand to put it under some kind of control.”
“What about our recent ancestors, a couple generations or so?” Helen encouraged.
“I think they brought back the awe of the ancients, and the curiosity of the elders. They harnessed the minds of the modern age and produced people like Ted Taylor wanted to put men on Mars and Venus. And my uncle Jerry who helped make the theory reality. They would have done it too. I believe they would have done it.”
“Well, if not for the nuclear test ban treaty.”
“Details, Hellen! Why are we always at war, why is it we are always trying to destroy that which is other than us?” Jamie turned over onto his back.
Helen noticed it getting cold. “Let’s go sit on the swing.” She suggested.
They sat on a two-seater wooden swing that Grandpa George built when Jamie's parents were newlyweds. When Jamie and Helen were children, the swing was Jamie and Helen’s Pirate Ship, and their Spaceship. They’d spent many hours playing. Tonight, they sat quietly, and Jamie noticed Helen shivered. He went and grabbed the blanket off the grass – fortunately still dry. He draped one end over Helen’s shoulders, giving her enough to cover her legs. He sat next to her and brought the other end around his shoulders. It reminded him of when they were kids and made blanket forts. It was nothing like that at the same time.
They swung gently.
“Would you travel to space?” Helen asked.
“I don’t know. What about you?”
“On a mission like the Orion Project? I think it would take someone really brave to go off, all alone, with the near certainty that they would never return to Earth. Never return to their families, to anything familiar. In a way, your Uncle Jerry went off into the unknown.”
They were quiet, listening to the squeak of the swing, the wind in the trees, the music of the spheres. Helen laid her head on his shoulder. Their hands rested on the bench of the seat, their pinkies aligned, Jamie was certain he felt energy passing between them.
— Lkai
Nice interlude. Gentle possible development with Jamie and Helen. Very nice.
ReplyDeleteWell, of COURSE there was "energy passing between them"! So sweet. And...so innocent. These two have a capacity for wonder and curiosity and deep thought. Where are their cell phones? Where is their dissatisfaction or disillusionment? They are pretty special, and they have found each other. Really nice. (Macoff)
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