The meteorite kept hurtling towards Earth, and Cam watched as her vision darkened PART I: A NEW MISSION Dallas took his last breath of fresh air and put on his helmet. It was as hot as an oven in his space suit. In about thirty seconds he was sodden with sweat; nevertheless, Dallas and Cam took a spirited step into the elevator. “Say your goodbyes to the ground,” said Dallas. “You won’t be seeing it for a while.” Dallas caught a sullen look in Cam’s eyes; something was plaguing her. “Something has been seriously scraping at my instincts.” Dallas looked bewildered. “Like what?” Dallas goaded. Silence. The drone of the elevator scaling up the ship was the only thing disrupting the awkward silence between the two astronauts. “I don’t know,” said Cam, eradicating the silence. “I’m just getting some foretaste of a bad thing, like a preview of a movie.” The elevator was almost at the top of the ship, and Cam stared out the transparent window. They were at the top finally, and the elevator doors opened. “Bzzzzzt.” The interstellar mission was to repair the broken lunar module on one of Jupiter’s moons; as simple as breathing. It would be a breeze. The two astronauts stepped onto their space shuttle, which was in the middle of nowhere. “All systems are go!” said Cam. Unresponsive, Dallas just stared into the bright blue sky. Although it would be a piece of cake, Cam hesitated to start the spaceship. She didn’t feet right about the mission. “Hey,” Dallas said calmly. “Don’t worry about it! It’ll be fine.” Despite her instincts, Cam started the spaceship and blasted into space. Blasted into danger’s way. After the jostling of the atmosphere, Dallas could think clearly and was back on track. They were now passing the moon. “All right. Prepare for hyper-jump!” Dallas started pulling the lever and listening to the ultra-powerful engine get ready for light speed. But Commander Jenkins showed up on the monitor in the middle of his controls. Dallas and Cam snapped to attention and saluted. “At ease, astronauts.” “What’s the problem, sir?” asked Dallas. “Well, it seems our satellite has picked up a giant meteorite, on the trail for Earth.” Cam’s face turned chalk pale. “How much longer until impact?” “About twelve hours. You better get some rest because when you wake up, you’re gonna stop this thing.” “What?” Dallas yelled. “With all due respect, sir, how are we possibly going to stop a giant meteorite?” “That is for you to figure out, Mr. Graham.” “But what about Cam? She’s got a family at home.” “All the more reason to make it home. I’m done here. You have exactly eleven hours forty-seven minutes. Good luck, astronauts.” The monitor turned black, leaving Dallas Graham and Cam Donston praying for their deaths to be quick and painless. Cam stared blankly into space. Literally. “I was right,” Cam said, with no emotion. It was like she was in a trance. “I knew there was something wrong, but I went anyway. And now we’re going to die here in the middle of the void of space.” “But we’ll die with pride, honor, and patriotism. Now let’s go to bed and wake up early, so we can plan how we’re going to stop this big rock!” So Cam mindlessly slumped into bed and lay there, silently crying and saying goodbye to everyone she loved. * * * PART II: FALLING INTO EARTH “Wake up, Cam. Wake up.” Dallas stood over Cam and gently shook her awake. “How much time left?” Dallas looked at the time on the monitor. “Three hours and 54 minutes,” said Dallas. “We better get started,” Cam said somberly. “No need, Cam. I got no sleep last night. Spent the whole time devising a plan. I know how we’re going to stop this thing.” Cam looked at the several bags under Dallas’s eyes and the completely slumped way he held his shoulders. “That’s great!” said Cam. “We’d better start preparing!” The plan was simple. The ship had mining lasers on it in case they needed to cut through rock. They would fly closer to the meteorite, try cutting it into the smallest pieces possible, and turn it into space dust. They contemplated that they would cut it into fractions, until it was so small, the impact would be no more destructive than dropping a bowling ball from a building. As long as people go to underground shelters, they will be fine. “Thirty minutes left. We should be seeing it in about three… two… one!” Sure enough, they could see the meteorite, coming in way faster than expected. “Uhoh. Start mining lasers now!” “Zzzzzzz!” the lasers heated up. Cam grabbed the controls and started the ship going in reverse. “We’re not fast enough!” “Then we’ll just have to let the meteorite hit.” Dallas looked at Cam. She was silently crying. “OK.” Dallas grabbed the controls and veered right. But it wasn’t enough. * * * The meteorite smashed into the engine part of the ship, with a terrible screech of metal ripping. The ship was totally exposed to the void of space. The shock wave threw Cam and Dallas against the side of the ship, and Cam knocked her head bad, even in her space suit. The meteorite kept hurtling towards Earth, and Cam watched as her vision darkened. Before she went unconscious, she saw the impact of the meteorite and the end of Earth. And then everything went black. Cam and Dallas were unconscious, falling into Earth. * * * FINAL PART: ALONE Cam… Cam… Cam! Wake up!” Cam Donston slowly let the light flood into her eyes. Immediately, dust covered her vision, but when she wiped her eyes, she saw Dallas Graham, standing over her, looking casual as ever. “Geez, you took quite a nap there, Cam!” Cam was confused. Was she dead? Did she somehow make it? Or was it all a dream, from beginning to end? No, she thought.
November/December 2011
Look
An unseen hand painstakingly covers the bare trees with white snow An unseen hand painstakingly covers the bare trees with white snow. It doesn’t leave a square inch of land untouched, filling the brown earth with clean white. The snow forms a blanket, worn like a comfortable sweater by every tree and every foot of ground. Slowly the hand encases each pine needle with clear ice, adds a slick layer of black ice to every driveway. For the final touch, it sweeps the sky with pale gray, bleaching the blue to a boring charcoal. A young boy excitedly watches this, staring out of his brightly lit house at the snow settling on the big oak tree. To an adult, the old wood and the frail, thin branches look abandoned and gross, as if they’ve been forgotten by Mother Nature. To a child, the squirrels running around its base, the cardinal nesting in the branches, and the chipmunk curled up underneath its cover are plainly visible. They see how majestic the tree is, standing tall and proud. This boy is no different, staring in awe as the flakes tumble from the sky and onto the branches. His father, dressed in bulky layers, joins him at the window. He sees none of the beauty only young eyes can catch. Instead, he angrily mutters about how awful the view is and makes a mental note to chop down that oak tree in the spring. The boy’s dad goes out to shovel snow, but the little boy curls up on his chair and gazes at the scene. As the air grows colder and the drifts of snow pile up, a young chipmunk is amazed at the white fluff falling down. He can’t catch it, and it doesn’t taste good, and it doesn’t smell at all. All it does is lie there on the ground, like a trap for him to sink into. Instead of daring to move and get stuck, he shelters himself under the oak and waits for the stuff to go away. Suddenly, a snowflake falls through the canopy of branches and settles on his furry nose. Shocked, he tries as hard as he can to get a glimpse of this invader. It tickles his forehead, is cool on his fur, and really smells pure and sweet. Its beauty makes him think about things that weren’t snow at all, like courage and love. Happy with his new friend, he runs in a circle. Only after he misses catching a snowflake does he realize that his guest has melted, leaving only wet fur behind. * * * In a forest like this one, food is scarce. She knows it. Why else would she work nonstop in the summer months storing food? Why else would she guard her tree ferociously to make sure nothing is stolen? In a way, it’s ironic that the one time she leaves her oak tree, half her supply is stolen. So now, being a lousy squirrel at the bottom of the food chain, she’s only got one chance to get her food back. After tracking down the skinniest male squirrel that has her precious red berries, she begins to chase him. Chattering furiously, the two animals streak through the snowy forest and around tall pine trees. As the snow falls faster and the day grows colder, she can’t help wondering if she should just give up. After all, he probably ate half the food anyway. On the other hand, if she runs fast enough, she can get to his stash. Pivoting nimbly, she darts through the woods. Sure enough, in a few minutes, a squirrel is eating juicy berries with what seems like a smug expression. The old man obeys no rules of the forest. Daily, he plunders the stock of the other animals there. He is lazy, but smart enough to know that he can be. Why should he work, when there is bountiful food to be had just three feet away? Today, the old cardinal gazes out at what he likes to call his territory. Rightfully, at least in his mind, he’s earned that forest. Ever since he was a young bird, he’s made his home there. He battled the elements, and now he gets to relax. No more hoarding food, freezing to death, being scared of the forest animals. He’s done it all. Foolishly, he thinks he can do whatever he wants now. As if proving his point, he flies lazily to the birch tree where two young squirrels store food. Within seconds, the proud cardinal is soaring through the gray sky, carrying a heaping mouthful of food. Who says you have to work to survive? The little boy watches all this and writes it down in big block letters. Then he closes his favorite rust-colored notebook, full now with all his observations. Carefully, he ties a green string around it and wraps Kleenex around this treasure. Prying open a loose floorboard, he places it gently inside the dark hole. Then, he walks out of the study and flicks off the light. * * * Fifty years later, the study has been transformed into the room of a little girl. Pink flowers decorate pink walls, and a white fluffy rug covers old wood floorboards. It’s one of the many renovations that have transformed the ancient house into a modern house for a modern family. Barely six years old, she’s twirling around and singing. At that moment, she stumbles over the edge of the rug and falls. Her hand hits the ground, and a snap echoes throughout the tiny room. Cautiously, she pushes the rug aside and sees a dark space where a floorboard used to be. Inside there is a package tied in gross green string and wrapped in yellow paper. She tears off the tissue and unknots the thread. A look of disappointment spreads across her face. Nothing important, nothing except a book. The book has yellowed pages and is full of writing that
Go Back to Asia
“Go back to Asia!” He says and sneers and snarls. He lacks imagination. He is so predictable. Sometimes he spreads his pain and says, “Go back to Egypt!” “Go back to Mexico!” “Go back to Africa!” He must be a travel agent Waiting to book a flight. Maybe he’s right. Maybe we should all go back And thank the Native Americans For their hospitality, For their generosity. But where would we go When our home is here? I was born here and raised here Just like you. My parents were born and bred here too Just like you. My grandparents’ souls left for the sky but were buried here Too. I’m staying right here. With you. Jason Fong, 11Manhattan Beach, California
