Ian Sales - All That Outer Space Allows

It’s something that science fiction, now Ginny thinks about it, never really considers. Space travel is a literary device, it serves to get characters across interplanetary or interstellar distances from point A to point B, as the story requires… But in the real world such journeys are dangerous, space travel is dangerous, space is a hazardous environment, as Ginny has been learning—and science fiction all too often glosses over those facts. It’s an unlooked-for disconnect and it has slowly insinuated itself into her life over the past two years, and she’s not entirely sure how to deal with it.

But, at the moment, she’s mostly concerned with the Walden-shaped hole in her world. It feels like he should be here, editorialising for her, giving a running commentary on the mission. Ginny looks across to the typewriter sitting on the dining table, the pile of training manuals from Walden’s den she has “borrowed”, and she knows they are no real substitute. She’s happy, more so than she has been in previous years, but she is beginning to feel like she has gained her happiness at the expense of something she treasured.

The happiness doesn’t last, of course; it never could. As June rolls on and the Apollo 11 launch date grows nearer, the press attention becomes more intrusive. The streets of El Lago are thronged with reporters and television vans, and everyone hides indoors for fear of being photographed doing something which might reflect badly on their husbands and NASA. Those stories Ginny heard about the Mercury Seven seem all too plausible, and Ginny isn’t even the wife of a “Moonwalker”. Yet.

And then she hears rumours from Florida. She knows about the “Cape Cookies”, but she foolishly believes it was before Walden’s time, or that he at least would stay faithful, she thinks she knows him well enough for that. But there’s a story going round about some of the guys and some girls and one of the names Ginny hears is her husband’s—someone saw him in a bar with a young woman. The sacrifices Ginny has made, playing the “happy housewife”, though she is nothing of the sort, in order not to jeopardise his shot at the Moon. And then he goes and… But did he really? She doesn’t want to believe it but she needs to be sure, she can’t just ignore it like so many of the other wives do, pretend it’s not happening, pretend that it’s even okay because he’s an astronaut, because he’s a man .

So Ginny flies to Florida, a commercial flight, hires a car at Orlando Airport, and drives to the Holiday Inn in Cocoa Beach, where the guys stay when they’re at the Cape but don’t want to stay in astronaut quarters.

She gets out of the rental car and gazes across the parking lot at the entrance to the hotel, and she wonders if she’s doing the right thing. Perhaps she should just turn her back on it, ignore it, the way the other wives do. Togethersville has had its casualties over the years, actual deaths, but also those wives who have left their husbands, husbands who have left their wives, like Pam, who left Al in November last year, and Harriet, who divorced Donn. After all those years keeping it together in Togethersville, the cracks are starting to show, and Ginny, who has always felt secure with Walden, she doesn’t want her marriage to crash and burn like some others are doing.

Ginny clutches her purse to her bosom and the righteous anger which fuelled her dash across the country, there’s nothing left of it, it seems to have vapourised as she drove from the airport, evaporated in the Florida sunshine. She takes her bag from the trunk, and it’s a long walk across the lot to the hotel entrance, each step harder to take than the one before, each click of her heels on the asphalt like she’s stabbing herself with a knife. And then she reaches the doors and they swoosh apart and she walks into the air-conditioned interior, her footsteps now muffled by carpet.

She had the foresight to book a room before leaving Houston, though she wondered at the time if doing so might tip off her husband. And there he is, standing by the reception desk, clad in his pale blue flight jacket and flight suit, looking bemused, as she approaches. She sees his face and she knows she has done something wrong, but she’s not about to admit it, that her sudden dash to Florida might have been prompted by fears Walden has himself a Cape Cookie.

She tells him, I thought it was time to take you up on that offer of a tour of the Cape.

Jeez, Ginny, he says, check with me first.

From his expression, he has a shrewd idea of what has brought her to Cocoa Beach, but is he amused that she might think the worst of him? Should he not be insulted, she thinks—or does that smirk signify he has “cleared everything away” for her arrival? She’s over-thinking, she knows she is, life is not a short story, there’s no narrative, that’s what people impose on events in order to make sense of them. But that wide astronaut grin of his, it’s starting to annoy Ginny. Her concerns were valid, if only to herself… and perhaps she’s reading too much into this, there’s no plot, reversal, reveal, resolution, life doesn’t work like that. She knows her husband well and she considers herself a good judge of character—she’s a writer, after all, and even in science fiction knowing how people work is necessary—but she has to admit she’s no wiser now than she was when she left Houston.

We need to talk, says Walden once she has checked in.

He takes her bag and leads her through the lobby and out into the pool area. No peck on the cheek, no hand in the small of her back. She feels his disapproval like something physical has followed them out into the garden. He holds out his hand, she silently places her hotel room key in his palm, he grimaces as he peers at the number and then looks around at the blocks surrounding the garden and pool for her room. Ginny is determined to be unrepentant. She knows NASA is all about the super-family appearance, she has heard stories about the Original Seven and the New Nine, she is an Air Force wife… but if Walden is too dumb, and she has never thought he is, not to realise she has abdicated her life, her wishes and desires to his career, then he’s in for a rude awakening.

Once in her room, he puts down her bag and turns to her. I know what goes on, Ginny, he says, but you ought to have more damn faith in me.

They’ve had their ups and downs, she remembers his moment of foolishness with that fräulein when they were at Ramstein, but she knows Walden is the sort of man who expects no more, and takes no more, than he feels is his due—but he is also a stickler for remaining true to his promises. If she had taken the time to consider it dispassionately, she could guess Walden wouldn’t cheat on her. And certainly not with the astronaut groupies who hang around the Cape. And yet…

This is all so new. At Edwards, he was a nobody, now he’s in the public eye. Even Ginny has been interviewed on television, been written about in national magazines. She’s celebrated. Kind of. For being a wife. Ginny has her fans among the readers of science fiction magazines, but she’s still small fry compared to the likes of Catherine, Miriam, Margaret or Zenna. And even new writers like Ursula and Joanna seem to have more impact with their stories than anything Ginny has ever written.

She stands there just inside the door and she has to admit that seeing him in his flight suit—the NASA flight jacket is a bonus—still makes her heart take wing; her flyboy, with his blond hair and his aviator’s grin, she never regretted marrying him, even during the years abroad and the years of exile at Edwards. And she moves toward him and if this feels like a bad Hollywood movie, then she’s in the mood for bad Hollywood movie sentiments, and reaching him she puts her arms about her husband and pecks him about the mouth and then on the mouth; and he takes charge, as men do, and presses his lips to hers, he reaches up a hand to the back of her head, and the seduction, if that’s what it is, Walden is surprisingly ardent, insistent, pushing against what she’s willing to let him have, she remembers this from their days courting when she was a student at SDSU but this feels stronger…