Paul Gillebaard: Space Hoax

Peter cleared his throat as he looked around. “So where am I?”

“You’re in the infirmary of the LaGrange, the Navy ship that picked you two up. You’ve been out for awhile.”

Peter’s head was clearing by the minute. He assumed SpaceQuest couldn’t get their recovery ship to their location. He tried to sit up before the doctor put his hand on his shoulder. “Son, you don’t want to do too much. Remember you just had surgery.”

Peter relaxed as he let his head fall back on the pillow.

A slow grin began to emerge on the doctor’s face. “I have someone here who would love to see you.”

“Who?”

The doctor stepped back and motioned for someone to approach. All the pain miraculously disappeared when Anya stepped into the light, her face beaming with a joyous smile. She looked like an enchanted angel floating toward him. He thanked God once again for another chance at life as she leaned down toward him. The familiar scent of her coconut body lotion empowered him to slightly raise his head to kiss her soft lips. She cooed, “Thanks for sticking around.”

Peter dropped his head as he remembered his promise to God. “Baby, I don’t plan on going anywhere. You mean too much to me. In fact, I’ve decided to make some changes. I don’t want you worrying about me anymore.”

Anya rose with a twinkle in her eye. She caressed his hand. “I appreciate that, but we don’t need to make any hasty decisions.”

EVER SINCE THE small infirmary had cleared out, Anya had been holding Peter’s hand. It was one of those simple moments in life he was pleased to be experiencing. He was savoring every minute as he stared at his soul mate. He had no opportunity to mull over Blake’s death; Anya consistently kept steering their conversation toward easier ground. Though he was still groggy and tired, he appreciated the light talk.

One subject she talked passionately about was their wedding plans. She was giddy with excitement when describing the latest details. He was delighted to see her happy, and more importantly, glad he was going to be around to participate.

During a lull in the conversation, he stared up at the ceiling. In his mind, the mission had still been a failure. His heart ached for Suzy knowing she had probably been informed of her husband’s death. He wished he could have been there when she was told, comforting her with Blake’s last words before the hatch was closed. He convinced himself the first thing he needed to do when he returned to Houston was to visit her.

Peter’s concentration was broken by the sound of the door opening. “How’s the astronaut doing?”

Peter turned to see the doctor entering with a small, blue duffle bag in his hand. “Hanging in there.”

The doctor did a quick scan of the monitors before stationing himself on the opposite side from Anya. “Good. How’s the pain?”

“Bearable.”

“Let the nurse know if it becomes unbearable.” The doctor then passed the duffle bag over to Anya as he kept his eye on Peter. “I was asked to give this to you. It’s your personal items found in the spacecraft.”

Peter was curious what exactly was in the bag as he watched Anya set it in her lap. “Thanks.”

The doctor patted him on the shoulder. “Make sure you take it easy. If you need anything, just push the call button.”

“Thanks, Doc.”

As the doctor left, Peter turned to see Anya pulling out her picture from the bag.

She wore a blushing grin as she eyed the photo. “So you took me along?”

Peter tenderly responded, “You’ve been with me on every space flight. You’re my good luck charm.”

Her smile grew larger. She then reached in and pulled out Matthew’s toy plane. “What’s this?”

Peter’s heart sank at the sight of the toy. Though it reminded him of Blake’s death, it also reminded him of the smile on the father’s face when he received it. “Is there a spacesuit glove in there?”

Anya searched through the bag. “I don’t see it, why?”

“When I went to the spacecraft after the explosion, I found his glove floating with that toy attached.” Peter took a deep breath as he looked back up at the ceiling. He took a moment before turning back toward her. “That was the final confirmation Blake was dead. That toy is Matthew’s. I gave it to Blake as we were strapping him in prior to launch.”

Her voice trembled with sadness. “Oh.”

“I want to make sure Suzy gets both.”

Anya’s voice rose. “Oh, she’s here. You can give this to her now if you want.”

Shocked by the news, Peter jerked his head up painfully. “She’s here?”

Anya nodded as she compressed her lips. “Yeah, in fact that’s why I’m here. After I learned about the explosion from Dmitri, I went over to her house to offer support. When she got the call to fly to the ship, she asked if I’d accompany her.”

Peter assumed Allen flew her out. “Where is she now?”

Anya gave a modest shrug. “Not sure. I was with her in the ship’s chapel when I learned you were starting to wake. She could still be there. You want me to go check?”

“So she knows Blake didn’t survive?”

“Yes, I was there when she was told.” Anya looked to the floor as she shook her head. “It was devastating. I held her in my arms as she cried.”

Peter fought through the pain as he forced himself up, yanking out the wires and tubes connected to his arm. Instantly the sound of alarms filled the small room.

Anya frantically raised her eyes as she cried out over the screeching noise, “What are you doing? You know the doctor told you to stay in bed.”

Peter was determined. “I’ve got to see her. Those men were my responsibility.”

Anya put her hand on him. “Stay here, I can go get her.”

Peter was not wavering. “No, I want to go to her.”

A nurse came running in. She quickly determined the cause of the alarms and growled, “What are you doing?” She quickly flipped a couple of switches, cutting off the obnoxious sounds before pushing Peter back down onto his pillow.

Not having the strength to fight, he gripped her hand and looked her directly in the eyes. “Sorry, but I just learned the wife of my friend who I was unable to save is on this ship. I must see her.”

The nurse grabbed at the loose wires, preparing to reattach them. She answered in a frank tone, “You need to stay here. We can bring her to you.”

Anya stepped between the two and gently put her hand on the nurse’s shoulder. Her voice was surprisingly fierce. “Clair, this is very important to Peter. I know he should have contacted you before disconnecting himself; we’re very sorry about that. But a man died on his watch and he wants to personally give his condolences to his wife.” She leaned in, whispering loud enough so Peter could hear. “I’m sure you can understand why he would want to go to her, and not have her come to him.” She straightened back up and resumed her original tone. “She is in the chapel. I can wheel him over in a wheelchair and have him back in a jiffy.”

The nurse looked down at Peter. He flashed a pleading expression as she studied his face. “I couldn’t do this if we were on land.” She turned to Anya. “I’ll give you five minutes.”

Anya soon had Peter wheeled up to the small chapel’s entrance. Suzy was sitting alone in the front pew in the dim room.

Anya whispered. “Do you want me to push you in?”

In a hushed but direct tone he answered, “No, I need to do this alone. Please help me up. I want to walk in.”

“Honey, you should stay in the chair.”

Peter gave her that look.

Anya positioned the chair and locked the wheels so he could get up. “Okay, but you sure are being stubborn.”

With her help, Peter used all of his strength to get out of the chair. He had an extra tough time moving his left leg, feeling the pain shoot throughout his body with each change in its position. Once he was standing, he reached for the open door handle to steady himself. He leaned over and gave her a kiss. “I’ll be okay.”