As Peter frantically searched for one of Britain’s black cabs, he realized he wasn’t sure exactly where he was. He took a quick glance at his watch. Damn, it’s already after four. His flight out of Heathrow was scheduled to lift off at 6:25 am and he still had to stop by his apartment to pick up his bags. He had no idea how long that would take. His co-workers had given him a sendoff party at a local pub the night before, and as a “farewell” gift to himself he ended up escorting a raving beauty to her flat. They were all over each other during the cab ride and he wasn’t paying attention to where they were going. He hoped he wasn’t going to pay the price for indulging in one last fling before flying back to the States.
Peter let out a big yawn as he struggled to wake up. He found locating a cab in the dark difficult. He tried to avoid the many puddles as he continued searching. Finally, he spotted one coming down the street and aggressively waved his arm. The driver made a daring move, cutting across two lanes and came to a sliding halt right in front of him. Peter stepped back to avoid the splashing water. Yes! My kind of driver. He quickly opened the door, throwing in his wet coat before jumping in behind it. “Thanks for stopping. I’m in a hurry to get to Heathrow, but I need to stop by my flat first at 2665 East Nightingale Street. There’s an extra 20 pounds if you can get me to the airport before 5 a.m.”
“Got it,” said the driver as he clicked the meter, quickly shifting the car into gear, and racing off.
Peter had to grab the handle over his head to prevent himself from sliding on the now wet seat. As he held on, his cell phone rang. The display read Dmitri Alexandrov. A grin came to his face as he thought of his long time Russian friend who he hadn’t spoken to in over a year. He quickly pushed the answer button on his phone. “Hello, Dmitri, how are you, ole buddy?”
“Hey, Peter, I’m good. How are you?” asked Dmitri from the other end.
“Great! In fact I’m on my way to catch a plane for the States. I’ve been in England for the last year on assignment,” said Peter.
“Oh, sorry. It must be early there.”
“No worries. I’m awake.”
“Well I’m in D.C. on business for a couple of days and was checking to see if you were in the area. I know you get out here a lot. I was hoping to get together and reminisce about old times?”
Peter smiled at the thought of seeing his friend. They had a long history together. Plus as the assistant director in the Russian Federal Space Agency, his friend might even have some insight on China. “Perfect, that’s where I’m flying to. I get in early morning your time and have meetings most of the day, but I should be available for dinner. How’s that sound?”
Dmitri readily agreed and the two worked out a time and place to meet.
PETER LAY MOTIONLESS in the tight quarters trying to convince himself he was comfortable enough to fall asleep. He always had a hard time sleeping on airplanes. He pulled the blanket tighter around his body trying to make his own little cocoon. He hoped to catch up on needed sleep over the remaining seven hours of flight time if he wanted to be refreshed for his late morning meeting with Gavin. He purposely faced the window, trying to avoid seeing any activity going on around him. Outside the window, the wing extended into a sea of darkness. At the end, a single flickering red light lit up the fragile wing every time it flickered.
The light mesmerized Peter as he thought back on the past year’s assignment. Though he was proud of what he had accomplished and learned, he was still shocked by China’s crazy claim, and disappointed in himself for not seeing it coming. With all my dealings with China, I should have suspected something! He wondered who actually knew at CNSA. Everyone he talked with was openly envious of America’s success and talked about how they hoped to duplicate it, becoming only the second country to put a man on the moon.
Peter slowly gravitated over to one side of his seat as the plane began to roll into a turn. Though the sky was completely dark outside with no reference points, he knew from his movements the wing was rising. Soon his body was pulled down into his seat, indicating the plane was now in a tighter turn. When the plane began to level off, the moon rose over the wing, as if it came out of nowhere. It was like watching a fast-forwarding moon rise. Once the plane did level off, the moon seemed to be balancing on the end of the wing as if it were a soccer ball, tempting Peter to come out and kick it. The sight was ironic since everything going on in his life seemed to revolve around that big rock. He pulled his hand from underneath the blanket and extended his thumb to cover the moon. Moving his thumb back and forth, he covered and uncovered the moon just as his dad had done almost forty years earlier with the earth when he stood on the moon. As Peter continued, it took him back to that magical day. Absorbing the jet engines’ humming, he closed his eyes.
PETER WAS TOO HOT and excited to have his Snoopy covers over him and had kicked them off long ago. His room was dark except for the light that shone through the slightly cracked door, casting long shadows that scared him as he lay in bed. He did everything he could not to be frightened, feeling his father would be disappointed in his seven-year-old boy if he knew. He so wanted to be strong like his father, especially on this special night, a night he would remember for the rest of his life. This was the night his dad, Commander Tom Novak, was going to walk on the moon.
Muffled noises of people laughing and talking drifted up from downstairs. His mom had promised him she would wake him as soon as his dad was about to disembark from his spacecraft, so he could witness the historical event. All kinds of people had gathered at their house; grandparents, uncles, aunts, friends of his parents and even some astronauts. To get his mind off the scary shadows, Peter remembered the many times his dad had sat him down and excitedly described exactly what he would be doing on the moon. This calmed him as he recalled his favorite part, his dad promising to write his initials, PDN, in the lunar surface dust just before he would board the spacecraft for home, where they would stay undisturbed forever.
The noise began to get louder downstairs and Peter hoped this was a sign his mom would soon be coming. Sure enough, his door slowly opened and his mother’s silhouette appeared. Knowing he was supposed to be asleep, he simply couldn’t control himself and yelled out, “Is it time, Mom?”
“Sweetheart, you were supposed to be asleep,” his mom remarked as she turned on the light.
“I can’t sleep, Mom, I’m too excited.” Peter sat up.
She crossed to the bed and sat next to him. With her soft hand she lightly brushed his hair out of his eyes. “I understand, dear, I’m excited too. Well… it’s time. Your dad will soon be walking on the moon. So let’s get you out of bed and downstairs with the others.”
Peter hopped out of bed in his Bugs Bunny pajamas, raring to go. His mom smiled as she stood and grabbed his hand before escorting him out the door. Peter skipped all the way down the stairs as he held her hand. Most everyone was crowded around the single black and white TV in the den. The only person not in front of the tube was his grandfather, his father’s dad, Opa. He was waiting all alone at the bottom of the staircase looking up. When he saw Peter, a big smile came to his face.
“Peter, are you ready to see your dad walk on the moon?” Opa extended his hand. Peter took his grandfather’s hand and with a big smile nodded “yes” proudly. “Well, let’s get our little astronaut the best seat in the house.” He winked at Mom. “I’ve got him, Anne.” Anne Novak smiled, and Peter skipped away tightly holding Opa’s hand. Opa placed Peter front and center of the TV.