Paul Gillebaard - USSR Hoax

Different from the Gemini flight where his main focus had been his spacewalk, Tom was essentially responsible for every aspect of Apollo 16, including two other lives. The gravity of this responsibility motivated him to study during any spare moment he could find. Consequently, he rarely saw his family. Whenever he was home, he was holed up in his office, working. Even with David and Joan patching things up, the nights of playing cards had long ago stopped. As a result, Tom had become a stranger in his own home. Out of necessity, Anne and Peter were forced to get along without him, basically developing their own routine. If a problem came up with the house, the car, or even Peter, Anne took care of it without consulting her husband. She understood he needed the freedom to focus only on his job.

Finally, Tom had set up an opportunity to spend some quality time with his family, even though the underlying reason was still the mission. He had invited Dusty and Jean over for a barbeque. Though Anne knew Dusty’s wife, Jean, from the regular gatherings of the astronaut wives, they weren’t very close. Tom hoped to change that with the get-together. He wanted the ladies to be friends so they could support each other during the moonwalks.

With Beatles music coming softly through the living room screen door, the couples were sitting around the patio table sharing laughs and sipping cold margaritas on the breezy March afternoon.

Jean moved her bangs away from her emerald eyes. “Can you believe it’s been over a year since the Beatles broke up?”

Tom looked at the young-looking woman. “It was only a matter of time. They were all musical geniuses. I betcha each one goes on to have his own successful solo career.”

Anne chimed in. “I remember when their first album came out. I was in college.”

“Me too.” Jean took a sip of her cocktail as she looked across at Anne. “So where did you go to school?”

“University of Texas.”

Jean raised an eyebrow as she set her drink down. “How does a UT girl end up with a boy from Texas A&M?”

Jean obviously knew Texas A&M was the rival to Texas. Tom lifted his hands as if presenting himself. “Could you have turned this down?”

Jean answered jokingly, “Yes, I could have.”

All chuckled as Tom brushed off his ego. “Good. Then I would have still ended up with Anne.”

Jean smiled. “So how did you two meet?”

A sensuous smile brightened Anne’s face as she swept her gaze over to Tom. “Tom was my knight in shining armor, coming to my rescue.”

Dusty piped up, “Did he ride in on a white horse?”

Anne turned. “Not exactly. It was a yellow VW bug. During my freshman year some girlfriends and I were visiting College Station for the Texas game. Afterward we wandered over to a local bar. Some UT guys were being obnoxious and started to hit on us. We decided that we had to get out of there. Some of the boys followed us out of the bar. One of them started harassing me. Tom was sitting in his car at a red light and saw what was going on. He leaned over the empty passenger seat and yelled out his side window for the guy to stop. The boy started getting all macho and told Tom to mind his own business. Tom immediately jumped out of his car, leaving the engine running. He strolled over calmly and got right into the boy’s face. Before doing anything, he looked to me and asked, ‘Sally, are you okay?’”

Dusty chimed in, “Sally?”

Anne smiled and continued, “Yeah. At the time I had no idea where he was going with that, but I played along and nodded yes. Then Tom turned back to the boy and said I was his cousin, and if he messes with me, he messes with him. After a few intense seconds, the boy laughed it off, pretending nothing had happened. Then he told his friends it wasn’t worth it, and they left.”

Dusty said to Tom, “Good thing that guy didn’t know Anne’s name.” He lifted his drink. “Gutsy call, buddy.”

Tom raised his glass in a toast.

Jean licked salt off the rim of her glass and looked over at Tom. “Wow, good for you. After a stunt like that, you would be tough to turn down.”

Tom extended his arms, teasingly presenting himself for a second time.

Anne pushed Tom playfully. “He offered us a ride, but our car was around the corner. The traffic was starting to build up behind his VW, and he said he’d better get going. I could see in his eyes that we had made a connection. Even though he didn’t ask, I quickly wrote my name and number on a piece of paper and handed it to him before he left.”

Tom called out victoriously, “And the rest is history.”

Still looking at Tom, Jean set her glass down. “That’s a great story. By the way, my dad graduated from A&M and speaks very highly of you. He brags about you all the time, proud you’re an Aggie. He was impressed you flew that jet pack, showing up those Commies.”

Tom exchanged a look with Anne. Only they knew the real danger he had been in during that EVA. “That’s nice to hear, especially with all the problems on that mission.” Tom rubbed his finger along the side of his glass, leaving a trail in the condensation. “Actually, I learned a lot from that flight, specifically, to know your limits.” He looked at his wife. “Now that I’m commander, I have to make smart decisions.” He turned back to Joan. “I have two other men and their families to consider.”

“I appreciate you saying that.” Jean reached across the table and patted Tom’s hand. “I’m confident Dusty is in good hands.”

Tom nodded. “He is.” He grasped the pitcher of margaritas and started topping off everyone’s glass. “You know, since your dad sounds like a fan and is a fellow alumnus, I’d be more than happy to give him one of the American flags I carried in my spacesuit during my EVA.”

“Wow! No, you don’t have to do that.”

“It’s no big deal. They’re just sitting up in our closet gathering dust.”

“That would be wonderful. I know he’d love it.”

“Great, I’ll go get one and sign it.” Tom got up. “Does anyone need anything while I’m inside?”

Anne asked, “Can you please make some more margaritas?”

“My pleasure.” Tom grabbed the empty pitcher.

“And check on Peter.”

“Will do.”

As Tom approached the sliding screen door he was able to make out his son’s silhouette on the living room floor. The Robinsons had left their two young children at home with a babysitter, leaving Peter on his own. When Tom slid open the door, he saw little green army men all over the carpet, some on their sides. In the middle of all the action was his seven-year-old son, moving the men around. Dino was off the battlefield, lying on the couch behind Peter.

Over the music, Tom asked, “What’s ya doing, Son?”

“Playing war.”

Like all kids his age, Peter had grown up with the Vietnam War as a major backdrop of his life. “Who’s winning?”

“The Americans.”

“Go Americans.” Tom left the screen door open since he’d be coming back with his hands full. He decided to go retrieve the flag first. He made sure not to disturb any of the army men, carefully walking over to the coffee table and setting down the margarita pitcher. He turned and gave his son a loving pat on his head. “Don’t kill all the enemy soldiers. I don’t want green blood all over the place.”

The boy smiled.

When Tom left the room, Dino leaped off the couch and followed. The dog shot straight past Tom after he opened his bedroom door. Dino jumped onto the bed and did a couple of tight circles, patting down the bedcover before laying down on the flattened spot. With his tongue hanging out and his paws dangling over the backend of the bed, the dog intently stared at Tom.