Taking Off by Jenny Moss

Author:Jenny Moss
Language: eng
Format: mobi, epub
Publisher: Bloomsbury Publishing Plc
Published: 0100-12-31T22:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER 29

The pink sunrise leisurely stretched along the horizon. We were drinking hot coffee and sitting on a concrete table on the beach, quietly watching.

“I can’t believe they didn’t launch,” Tommy said, opening the sack of doughnuts. “It’s a beautiful morning.”

“Beautiful.”

And the rich colors in the sky, the soothing rush of the waves, the fine sand, was only part of it. Tommy was the other part. I swung my feet back and forth and munched on doughnuts. I watched a crab crawl by and remembered how Mark and I used to capture them and try to keep them in castles of sand.

I hadn’t called Mark yet. I knew he was probably mad about it. In the last two years, I’d never gone three days without talking to him. I rarely left Clear Lake, but Mark did, to go surfing or to see his mother’s family in west Texas. And he’d call me every day.

Tommy and I sat on the table, just enjoying the morning as it warmed up. Like Tommy, I couldn’t believe they didn’t launch. It was so nice out. Christa must be anxious, ready to go, tired of the emotional roller coaster of delays.

Some tourists walked by wearing Teacher-in-Space T-shirts.

“Hey, I want one of those!” I said, knowing I didn’t have the money.

“Really?”

“Too dorky?” I asked.

“Not if you want it,” he said, jiggling my arm.

I lost my words. If every time he touched me I forgot how to talk, it was going to get really weird between us.

More people were out now, moms and dads, kids and teenagers, young couples and older people. Some dared to venture out into the waves, but most were walking, throwing Frisbees, enjoying the day—waiting for the launch. Christa flying was like one of us flying. The newspaper said the renewed interest in NASA and the space program was all because of her.

The seagulls squawked overhead, taking dives to snatch up something from the water or the junk food on the shore. I laughed when one swooped down to steal a cinnamon roll from a nearby table. The owner of the breakfast threw his arms up in the air, but was laughing in disbelief.

Seagulls, hunger, desire, white wings, blue sky, soar, Christa, soar.

“That guy looks like my dad,” Tommy said, pointing to the man who’d been ripped off by a seagull, “except for the part where he’s laughing.”

“Your dad never laughs?”

“He doesn’t stay still long enough. No vacations. No hobbies. No interests but business. Not like your dad. My dad works all the time. He didn’t go on one summer trip or spring vacation with my mom and sister and me. Can you imagine that? Not wanting to go anywhere.”

“Maybe he likes where he is,” I said.

“All he cares about is work. Not a surprise he thinks I’m a total washout.”

“Tommy,” I said, “he can’t think that.”

“Oh yes, he does. We have the traditional father-son relationship, where the son disappoints the father for not living up to his potential. It’s an old story.”

“He thinks that because you want to be a teacher?” I asked.

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