Paul Gillebaard - Space Hoax

The father started to speak in detail. The elderly couple participated in the discussion as the father used various hand gestures. Peter stood patiently, unable to decipher what was being said. The voices seemed to be rising in intensity.

Finally, Ying turned with a serious look. “You okay hide here until safe for travel. Then we get you to border, on one condition.”

“What’s that?”

Ying looked to the ground for a second before her father put his arm around her in a consoling manner. She slowly lifted her head. “He wish you take me and son.”

Peter took a step back. “Why?”

“So I can have baby. My cousin be force with abortion. She almost die. He not want lose his grandchild or daughter.”

Peter could see the love in the father’s eyes. The same look Anya’s seventy-five year old father, Viktor Alexandrov, gave his daughter before he joined Peter on the suicide mission to the moon. “How will we get to the border?”

Ying looked at the elderly gentleman as she pointed. “My Yeye.” She turned with an apologetic look. “Sorry, Yeye be grandfather.” She put her hands together. “Yeye often take harvest to market in our horse pulled wagon. We hide in wagon. He get us close to border.”

Peter wasn’t worried about Ying; she already proved her agility running through the woods. He questioned bringing along a one-year-old baby. A slight tear began to appear in her eye. How could he say no to this sweet girl who saved him? How could he let her unborn child be killed? Though the idea sounded risky, he thought of Anya and his own unborn child. He would want someone to do the same for him. He reassuringly nodded yes.

A big smile appeared on the father’s face before he bowed in appreciation.

LEANING AGAINST THE women’s bathroom door, face forward with his hands above his head, Dmitri mourned deeply for his sister. For the last ten minutes he had been trying to console her, hoping to get her to come out. Throughout the ordeal he heard her getting sick multiple times. Finally, he couldn’t take it anymore and knocked on the door as he opened it.

Dmitri called out, “Anya, are you okay?” His words echoed off the tiled walls. With only one stall with a closed door, he knew exactly where she was. He couldn’t hear a sound. He walked up to the door and knocked. “Anya, are you okay?”

Again silence. Finally, Anya’s voice cracked in despair. “I need to go to the hospital.”

The wooden wheels of the rickety horse drawn wagon rolled slowly along the bumpy dirt road, jostling Peter around as he sat on a patch of straw. A slight aroma of manure started to mix in with the stale mildew smell he had been inhaling over the last few hours in the tight, enclosed area. He thought at first the smell was coming from the horse pulling them, but soon realized it was instead coming from Ying’s baby next to him. A slight grin crossed his face. Just last week he was over 200,000 miles away in lunar orbit watching the majestic sight of his home planet slowly rising above the lunar surface. Now here he was, hiding like an outlaw in this muggy old wagon with a mother and her now crying baby in a dirty diaper. He had to laugh.

Unexpectedly, Ying’s grandfather, who was driving the wagon, anxiously yelled out something in Chinese. Ying’s eyes widened as she started to rock her baby, trying to calm him. “Soldiers come.”

Peter quickly peeked ahead through one of the narrow slits between the wooden planks that made up the wagon, just above the old man’s shoulder. He saw two Chinese soldiers stationed at a makeshift roadblock they were approaching. Shit. What am I going to do? Ying was having no luck quieting the baby. He was positive they would check inside. He was doomed.

Peter’s heart began to race as he shimmied toward the back end of the wagon where the flimsy access door was. Though it was locked, the wobbly wooden entryway could easily be pried opened. His mind started racing, trying to figure his plan of attack. His only hope was to surprise the guards as they opened the small door and overpower them. Peter looked back through the thin cracks to see they were almost upon the guards. His heart dropped when he noticed they had guns drawn. Fortunately, Ying had calmed her child. Soon the jostling ended as the wagon came to a halt. One of the soldiers shouted out a question. The grandfather timidly answered. Peter held his breath as the other soldier started to walk slowly along the side of the wagon, his gun pointed at it. Neither Ying nor Peter moved.

As the guard approached the back end, Peter’s adrenaline began pumping, his whole body prepared for attack. Suddenly the baby let out a cry and instantly Peter’s muscles tensed. He kept his eye on the soldier’s hands, waiting for him to attempt to pry open the door. The soldier instead yelled out a question as Ying quieted her baby. The wagon wobbled as the grandfather got out and gradually walked toward the back. The guard stepped back as the grandfather approached the door. Peter was convinced he was going to unlock it. The grandfather paused for a moment before he turned and began to plead with the young man. Thinking this might be his only opportunity to catch the soldier off guard, Peter lifted his leg, getting ready to crash open the flimsy door. Ying grabbed his shoulder. He briefly took his eye off the guard to look her way. She slightly shook her head no. Peter turned back to see the man move her grandfather to the side and stare at the wagon. Peter was convinced the bright morning sunshine made it difficult for the guard to see through the small slits into the dark wagon. The man shouted a question in their direction. Peter didn’t move nor say a word. Ying immediately spoke up as her baby began to cry. Peter was totally confused and stayed ready to kick. Ying briefly conversed with the Chinese man through the thin planks in their native language until the other guard called out. Peter was astounded to see the soldier say something to the grandfather before walking back to his post, surprisingly giving them clearance to pass.

Peter couldn’t believe his luck, escaping certain capture. After they had passed through the checkpoint and were far enough away, he whispered to Ying, “How did we get through that?”

Ying was patting her baby on the back. “Yeye say he have granddaughter. She nine months pregnant with second child. We flee family officials.”

Peter tilted his head. “So why didn’t they open the door to check?”

Ying shrugged her shoulders. “I not know. Guard ask me if I okay. I say I think baby come soon. Other guard call out to him. He say to Yeye this not his concern.” She smiled. “He say watch for bad American. He danger.”

Peter shook his head, assuming that the soldiers didn’t want to get involved with the possibility of delivering a child. “Damn, that was close. I was sure he was going to open the door.”

Ying raised her eyebrows and leaned into him. “Since you be to moon, maybe Ching’e save you.”

Peter chuckled. “Or maybe that bunny.”

ANNE NOVAK WAS a wreck. She had been driving her sister-in-law crazy over the last hour pacing nervously back and forth in her kitchen waiting for a phone call from NASA. As the wife of a moonwalker, she had access to the top brass in the organization. She had a call in to the NASA administrator requesting an update on her son. She was assured she would get a call back within the hour.

In a relaxed tone, Virginia said, “Don’t worry. I’m sure Peter’s okay.”

Anne stopped pacing and darted her brown eyes directly at her sister-in-law. “How can you say that? Supposedly he landed three days ago, but yet we haven’t heard a thing. You know Peter would have called me by now if he could. I know something’s wrong.”