Dave Eggers - Your Fathers, Where Are They? And the Prophets, Do They Live Forever?

— I don’t know about that.

— Well, whatever. It worked. And now we kill it all, and we pay the Russians for a backseat on their rockets. You couldn’t write a sicker ending to the whole story. How do the Russians have money for rockets and we don’t?

— They’ve prioritized differently.

— They’ve prioritized correctly.

— What do you want me to say?

— I want you to be pissed.

— I can’t do anything about it. And I’m not about to trash NASA for you, chained up like this.

— I don’t expect you to trash NASA. But look at us, on this vast land worth a billion dollars. You can’t see it, but the views here are incredible. This is thirty thousand acres on the Pacific coast. You sell some of this land and we could pay for a lunar colony.

— You couldn’t buy an outhouse on the moon.

— But you could get a start.

— Not likely.

— You know what? Hold on a second. What time is it?

—

— I guess it’s hard for you to check. I think I have time. I have an idea. Hold on a sec. Actually, you’ll have to hold on a while. Maybe seven hours or so. I think I can do this. And here’s some food. It’s all I brought. And some milk. You like milk?

— Where are you going?

— I know you like milk. You drank it in class. You remember? Jesus, you were so pure, like some fucking unicorn.

— Where are you going?

— I have an idea. You gave me an idea.

— First of all, sir, I want to apologize. I didn’t want to bring you here, but I really couldn’t think of any way around it.

— Who are you?

— We’ve met once, but I don’t know if you’d remember. But it doesn’t matter so much who I am. I just want to apologize for bringing you here. I didn’t have any intention of doing this, but then circumstances conspired to make it necessary. I have this astronaut next door, and he was talking about what happened to him and the Shuttle, and we were talking about the moon, and colonies there, and about government priorities, and then I had this idea that someone like you would have some of the answers that we needed. And I knew you’d retired out this way, so I had to go and get you and bring you here.

— Holy Christ on a cracker.

— Again, I’m really sorry.

— You planning to harm me?

— I’m glad you asked that, sir. The good news is I’m not planning to harm you. The shackles are just a formality. It’s not like I think you’re dangerous or anything, given your disability. But I had to shackle the astronaut, because he could kill me if he wanted to, and then it seemed like the safest bet to shackle you, too, and the posts are here in every building, and I had a boxful of handcuffs, so it was all pretty convenient.

— I don’t understand any of this.

— Well, the chloroform will keep your head a little cloudy for a while. But I just want to say I’m very honored to have you here. I respect your service to the country, both as a soldier and as a congressman. That’s why I gave you the couch. There are couches all over the place out here, just dumped in the street like the place got looted. Is it comfortable enough?

— How the hell did you get me here?

— Sir, I don’t mean any disrespect to you, but a man your age, and with your, you know, missing limbs, you were a lot easier than the astronaut.

— Wait, what, son? You have an astronaut out here?

— Yes sir. I mentioned that before. He’s fine. I haven’t harmed the astronaut and I won’t harm you.

— Kid, you look like a pretty clean-cut guy. Do you have any idea how serious this is?

— I do, sir. I really do. I don’t take it lightly. But like I said, I didn’t think I had much choice but to bring the astronaut here, and when I was talking to him, all these questions came up and so many of them had answers only someone like you could provide.

— How’s that, son? Questions?

— Well, as a congressman …

— I’m no longer in office, you realize.

— I know that, sir. But you were in office a good long while, and I’m sure that you’ve had expertise with some of the questions I have.

— And you brought me out here to answer them? You ever hear of a telephone or e-mail or whatnot?

— Well, sure, but that might have taken a long time. And after I took the astronaut, I figured I only have a certain window before I’m caught or found or something else happens to me, so I thought I might as well get it all figured out in one fell swoop.

— And why me again?

— Yes, sir, that’s a fair question. But again, once the astronaut and I started talking, in the back of my mind I thought, Well, I bet Congressman Dickinson would have something to say about this. I knew you’d retired around here, and given you’re retired, I figured you wouldn’t have a security detail anymore.

— So you could kidnap me.

— Well, yes. Again, I’m so sorry. I really don’t like the word kidnap .

— You were the guy who came to the house to rewire the phones?

— Yeah, I just needed a way into the house, and, you know, it worked. I figured it might not be very difficult, given you’re in a wheelchair. I was hoping no one else was home. I waited a bit until— Was that your daughter?

— My wife.

— Oh, sorry. She was very young. Okay, good. Congratulations. That’s very good. That’s nice. So I had to wait until she left. How long have you been together?

— Son, you are batshit crazy.

— I’m really not.

— Of course you are. But when you showed up that day, you looked like a nice clean-cut guy. We talked about the 49ers.

— They’re really having a good year, aren’t they? And I really am a clean-cut guy. I’m just stuck in a tight spot right now. These headaches are messing with my life, and the ceiling just seems to be lowering on me every day. But just yesterday, with the astronaut, I felt like I was on the verge of something. I was breathing better. And I know you’ll help me even more. So can we start?

— Start what, son?

— I just have some questions. Once I ask them, you’re free. Especially if you answer them honestly. And I know you will; I’ve admired your candor and integrity since the beginning. And again, I’m very humbled by your service to this country. I know it must have been quite a sacrifice to lose two limbs in Vietnam.

— Son, I know that you’re a confused young man, and I want to help you. I saw a lot of people like you back in the day, especially when I rotated back to the States, so I know where you’re coming from. I really do. If anyone understands the mind of a young man whose skull is fastened one turn too tight, it’s me. But I want to say for the record that I think you doing it this way is deplorable and bizarre, and you would be best off cutting your losses and calling this quits.

— Nah, I’d rather not.

— If you left right now, and told the authorities where we are, I would personally see to it that you were treated with some compassion. That you got some help.

— See, but you’re the help I need. If you cooperate, I will be helped. I don’t need medicine or therapy. I need my questions answered.

— What kind of questions, son?

— Not all that difficult. Basic stuff. You’ll know the answers.

—

— So we’re ready?

— Hell.

— Great.

— For the sake of getting this over with.

— Okay. Okay. My first question — and the main one — is, Why isn’t my buddy Kev Paciorek in space?

— Pardon?

— He’s an astronaut. The guy next door.

— You kidnapped your buddy?

— It’s all worked out now. He gets it.

— What’s that?

— I’ve known him fifteen years. We understand each other. And back when we were in college he looked me in the eye and he said, Someday I’m going up in the Shuttle. At the time, I thought, Bullshit, no way. But then he kept getting closer to it. He cleared every hurdle. He was fucking Jesus. He walked on water, water into wine, everything. He did everything they told him to. Joined the Navy. MIT, grad degrees. He speaks Urdu for fuck’s sake. And all because he wanted to go up in the Shuttle or maybe to a lunar colony. And then twelve years later he becomes an astronaut, and a few months later, they kill the Shuttle, and they defund everything NASA does, and so instead he’s waiting in line to maybe get a ride on some shit-ass Russian rocket to some piece-of-shit Space Station full of pussies.