“That’s prejudice!” Debbie had shrilled. “Prejudice against motherhood.”
“Buffalo chips. The mission is dangerous. We’re not talking about a weekend camping trip. They’re going to Mars, for chrissake! I’m not going to be the one who killed some kid’s mother. Not me!”
She had railed and fumed at him for nearly half an hour.
Finally, her boss stopped her with, “Seems to me you ought to be caring more about your kid. Two and a half years is a long time for him to be without his mother—even if nothing goes wrong with the mission.”
Suddenly she had nothing left to say. She stomped out of his office before she broke into tears. She didn’t want him or anybody else to see her cry.
Pecking at her keyboard, Debbie pulled up the stinging memoranda she had fired off to Washington. She still felt some of the molten white heat that had boiled within her. Then she went through the lawyers’ briefs and the official disclaimer from the agency’s legal department: they denied prejudice against women who had children. The agency’s choice had been based on “prudent, well-established assessments of risks, performances, and capabilities.”
“Jeez, Deb, are you going to take this to the Supreme Court?” Doug had asked in the middle of the legal battle.
“If I have to,” she had snapped at him.
Doug merely shook his head. “I wonder how the rest of the crew would feel if the Supreme Court ruled you have to go with them on the mission.”
“I don’t care!”
“And little Douggie. He’d sure miss his mother. Two-and-a-half years is a long time. He won’t even be five yet when the mission takes off.”
She had no reply for that. Nothing except blind fury that masked a deeply hidden sense of guilt.
The Supreme Court refused to hear the case, although the news media splashed the story in lurid colors. Astronaut mother denied chance to be part of Mars crew. Space agency accused of anti-mother bias. Women’s groups came to Debbie’s aid. Other groups attacked her as an unfit mother who put her personal glory ahead of her son’s needs.
Her work deteriorated. Sitting in front of her computer screen, scanning through her performance appraisals over the three years since the Mars crew selection, Debbie saw that the agency wasn’t going to suffer grievously from her loss. She had gone into a tailspin, she had to admit.
They’ll be happy to see me go, she thought. No wonder they don’t even want me at mission control during the landing. They’re afraid I’ll screw up.
“Mommy?”
Douggie’s voice startled her. She spun on her little typist’s chair and saw her five-year-old standing uncertainly at the bedroom doorway.
“You know you’re not allowed to bother me while I’m working, Douggie,” she said coldly.
He’s the reason I’m stuck here, she raged to herself. If it weren’t for him I’d be on Mars right now, this instant, instead of looking at the wreckage of my career.
“I’m sorry, Mommy. Daddy said I should tell you.”
“Tell me what?” she said impatiently. The boy was a miniature of his father: same eyes, same sandy hair. He even had that same slow, engaging grin. But now he looked frightened, almost ready to break into tears.
“Daddy says they’re just about to land.”
“I’m busy,” she said. “You watch the landing with Daddy.”
The boy seemed to draw up all his courage. “But you said you would watch it with me and ’splain what they’re doing for me so I could tell all the kids in school all about it.”
A little more gently, Debbie said, “But I’m busy here, honey.”
“You promised.”
“But—”
“You promised, Mommy.”
Debbie didn’t remember making any promises. She looked into her son’s trusting eyes, though, and realized that he wasn’t the reason she wasn’t picked to go to Mars. It’s not his fault, she realized. How could it be? Whatever’s happened is my responsibility and nobody else’s.
Her anger dissolved. She was almost sorry to see it go; it had been a bulwark that had propped her up for the past three years.
With a reluctant sigh she shut down her computer and headed off to the living room, her son’s hand clasped in hers.
“Luis!” Mr. Ricardo called as the teenagers scrambled for the classroom door the instant the bell sounded.
Luis scooped up his books and made his way through the small stampede up to the front of the classroom. He walked slowly, reluctantly. Nobody wanted his friends to think that he liked talking to the teacher.
Mr. Ricardo watched Luis approaching him like a prizefighter watches the guy come out from the other corner. He looked tight around the mouth, like he was expecting trouble. Ricardo was only forty or so, but years of teaching high school had made an old man out of him. His wiry hair was all gray; there were wrinkles around his dark brown eyes.
But when Luis came up to him, the teacher broke into a friendly smile. “Have you made up your mind?” he asked.
Luis had been afraid that Ricardo would put him on the spot. He didn’t know what to say.
“I don’ know, Mr. R.”
“Don’t you want to do it?” Ricardo asked, sounding kind of disappointed; hurt, almost. “It’s the opportunity of a lifetime.”
“Yeah, I know. It’d be cool, but…”
Luis couldn’t tell him the rest, of course.
Ricardo’s demanding eyes shifted from Luis to Jorge, loitering at the classroom door, watching them intently.
“He’s going to get into a lot of trouble, you know,” the teacher said. He kept his voice low but there was steel in it.
Luis shifted his books, shuffled his feet.
“There are only ten rigs available at the planetarium. I’ve reserved one. If you don’t use it I’ll have to let some other student have it.”
“Why’s it gotta be now?” Luis complained.
“Because they’re landing now, muchacbo! They’re landing on Mars today! This afternoon!”
“Yeah…”
“Don’t you want to participate in it?”
“Yeah, sure. I’d like to.”
“Then let’s go. We’re wasting time.”
Luis shook his head. “I got other things to do, man.”
“Like running off with Jorge, eh?”
“Obligations,” Luis muttered.
Instead of getting angry, as Luis expected, Ricardo sat on the edge of his desk and spoke earnestly to him.
“Luis, you’re a very bright student. You have the brains to make something of yourself. But only if you use the brains God gave you in the right way. Going with Jorge is only going to get you into trouble. You know that, don’t you?”
“I guess so.”
“Then why don’t you come with me to the planetarium? It could be the turning point of your whole life.”
“Maybe,” Luis conceded reluctantly. He knew for certain that if he went to the planetarium, Jorge would be furious. Sooner or later there would be a beating. Jorge had sent more than one-kid to the hospital. Everybody knew that sooner or later Jorge was going to kill somebody; it was just a matter of time. He had no self-control once he started beating up on somebody.
“Are you afraid of Jorge?” Ricardo asked.
“No!” Luis said it automatically. It was a lie and they both knew it.
Ricardo smiled benignly. “Then there’s no reason for you not to come to the planetarium with me. Is there?”
Luis’s shoulders sagged. If I don’t go with him he’ll know I’m chicken. If I do go with him, Jorge’s gonna pound the shit outta me.
Ricardo got to his feet and put one hand on Luis’s shoulder. “Come on with me, Luis,” he commanded. “There’s a much bigger world out there and it’s time you started seeing it.”