The Old Man and the Rocketship

The Choice Made

The flame that spurted out of the tale of the rocket was a bright blue. Flowing about the launch shield of the old bolted metal structure, it seemed for a second to almost consume the rigging, which had cradled the rocket for so many years. Then with a great roar, the ship lifted from the pad and shot into the dark night sky.

Within the control chamber, the two aliens glared through the viewport and then at one another. When they spoke it was in guttural language both harsh and grating to the human ear. Most humans, hearing the talk, would believe themselves in the presence of a terrible menace. And while a basic science fiction truth is that it is wrong to judge something sinister just because it is different from what one is used to, in this case, "most humans" would be right. Roughly translated, here is what followed:

"Damn Him! Damn Him!"

"Be silent; wishful thinking won't help us now and the Master does not like his feeding habits spoken of casually."

"Well, the Master won't know," the creature eyed his companion warily, "Unless you tell him."

"Unless I find some reason to hope for a personal reprieve, I can see no way reporting you will help me. Either way, we face strong censure for not securing the old monkey. I'll be too busy screaming to care whether you are screaming a bit more"

"Yes, you will," The first slumped deeper into the pilot chair. "I suppose it's certain; he dies tonight?"

"It's certain. We lost him although I'm going to remind Zudergut of the infernal assignment board that a review of the old man's file shows that he was making choices against us for years. This was a last-ditch effort at best."

"Maybe, but I think we're still in for it. So what should we do with this tin torpedo?"

"Aim it at Area 51: give 'em a thrill. It will at least increase the local suspicion level." With a turn of the rudder, the sleek craft on its maiden flight veered away from the stars and dove toward the state of Nevada. Inside the heat spawned by air friction caused the cabin walls to glow and the leather of the chairs to burst into flames.

"We better go."

"Must we? It's just getting comfortable in here." The two figures suddenly burst into flames. For a moment their alien shapes altered to beings with horns and glowing eyes all alarmingly familiar, and then they were gone leaving behind the stench of fire and brimstone.

Back at the launch pad, the old man stood in the swirling clouds made by the unearthly jet engine. Then shrugging he made his way as he had done for years back to the old wooden framed house. It seemed, however, an unusually long walk tonight. Jed wearily climbed the stairs that led to his and Eddy's bedroom. There he could hear her breathing gently. Straining to move as slow as possible he lay down beside her, but the old springs creaked.

"What keeps you up so late tonight?" she murmured.

"Oh nothing much; just thinking and reviewing about things. It's been a strange evening." He looked over at her. The harvest moon illuminated her face gazing at him. Grey hair and withered features did not hide the girl who had given herself fully to him and had thus fully filled his heart." "I love you Eddy."

"What?"

"I love you and I want you to know...I'd never leave you."

"I know that."

"I'm not saying it right. You know, darlin', one day one of us will be left behind. It's always been possible, but now it's growing to a real probability. But I want you to know that I'd never go anywhere that I thought you couldn't follow, and if I go, I'll wait for you." Eddy reached over and patted her husband's cheek.

"Get some sleep."

He tried but couldn't. And so he, straining to move slowly so not to disturb Eddy, got up, and wondered about the house. He touched the walls and the knickknacks. He looked over all the things that Eddy had added to the house which had gradually transformed it from the home of his parents to his and hers. Finally, he made his way to Edward's room. It looked pretty much the same as it had when his son had lived there. In fact, it looked pretty much the same as it had when it was his room. He sat down on the bed and looked through the window out at the stars that shone down on the old porch roof. Carefully he stepped through the window and laid himself down. The scratchy old shingles, retaining the warmth of the day, felt comfortable and familiar under his back. Looking towards the horizon Jedediah saw something shine and then streak across the heavens.

He'd made the right choice: she'd follow. Even when the spasm hit him in the chest he smiled, and that was how they found him the next day--All Saints Day—still smiling although his soul had departed to ports unknown.