Over the Moon for You

Chapter 9

"Are you sure about this?" I heard Kabirah say over the phone. 

"Yeah, I think so." I said breathlessly. In all honesty I was not sure about it at all, but I wanted to make a decision before I could psych myself out of it. "When do we leave?"

"If everything goes as planned, it should be in two weeks." 

"Wow, that soon?" I bit my lip, feeling the sting of cold feet for just a second before shaking it off. 

I was going to do this. I had to do this. I mean, this was a once in a lifetime opportunity. I would be stupid to pass it up, right? I was going to be a part of history!

Like the Challenger? A small voice in the back of my head whispered.

"Too soon bro," I whispered back, trying to fight my anxiety with humor. 

It worked. At least for now. 

I said goodbye to my boss and took a deep breath, looking at the reflection in my phone. My hair was getting longer, transitioning from a cute mess of curls to a frizzy afro. 

I sighed and pulled out a pad of paper and a pen. 

Dear Kjetil,

I frowned at the words on the page before crumpling up the sheet and dropping it into the bin by my desk. 

My dear brother,

I bit the cap of the pen, looking at my greeting before deciding that it was satisfactory and continuing with the letter. It was brief, mostly just me explaining the situation and that I wouldn't be sending any letters for awhile. I honestly had no idea how long the trip was supposed to last (something I definitely should have asked Kabirah considering that I needed to pack), but I couldn't imagine it would be more than a week or two. I finished by asking him not to mention it to Mom. 

After he went to rehab, Kjetil and Mom had started to talk again. Well, exchange letters at least. This was good progress considering that she had threatened to disown him after the incident had happened. He never gave me much detail about what exactly they talked about, but he said that he felt closer to her now than he ever had. I couldn't deny that this made me a small bit jealous. 

My plan was to just go to space and not tell her. If everything went well, she would be none the wiser and I wouldn't have to deal with her nagging. If I died, well, she'd find out in the news I'm sure just like everybody else. And at that point I wouldn't have to deal with her. 

My thoughts were interrupted by a knocking at the door. I swiveled around in my desk chair (super fancy, I know) and turned to face the door. 

"Yes?" I called, and Willow poked her head in. 

Willow was the first person I had ever hired, or even interviewed. She was a trans woman fresh out of college, with lots of creativity and enthusiasm to go around. I loved being around her because she always had something interesting to say. 

"I was just wondering if you had made your decision yet. About your leave?" She asked me politely. I smiled back, feeling the contagious effects of her presence. 

I had told her that I might need her to take over at the branch for a bit, but that I wasn't sure. 

"Yes, I have. I will be leaving in around two weeks. In between now and then, I will get you trained on all of the main duties so that you are adequately prepared."

A nervous look appeared on her face for a split second before it was replaced by her usual warm smile. "Of course. Would you like me to look into hiring anyone else before your departure?"

 I pondered this for a second before shaking my head. "I don't think so. Unless we see a big rise in donations or demand in the next week, you should be fine with just the three of you."

She nodded then saw herself out of the room, leaving me alone with my thoughts again. Was I doing the right thing? Images of news headlines flashed before my eyes. Young woman killed in disastrous MoonFlight maiden voyage! 

I shook my head, banishing the thought. After all, what were my anxiety meds good for if I just spent all my time worrying anyways? 

I stood up, tired of wallowing in my thoughts and decided to walk around the building to get my blood flowing. Things were going quite nicely here, with more donations coming in and spirits running high. 

"Hey Safara?" I heard a voice behind me ask, and I turned to see John standing there sheepishly, a small box in his hand. "Could I get some help?"

"Of course John." I beamed at him, walking over. "What's up?"

"Well, we received this in the donation box and I just..." He trailed off, avoiding my eyes. "Just take a look at it."

I gave him a quizzical look before taking the box. As soon as it had left his hands John practically ran away, leaving me standing alone in the hallway. 

I looked down at the cardboard box as I walked it back to my desk, curious what had John so flustered. It became immediately clear, however, when removing the lid revealed a large phallic shape with realistic veins and a scrotum. I took a minute to process what I was looking at before noticing that it came with a note. 

Dear QWF,

I know this may seem very strange, and honestly I'm not sure why I decided to do this, but I promise there's a semi-good explanation for this. 

This is a STP packer. You wear it with a harness or packing boxers, and it lets you pass at urinals. Yes, STP is "stand to pee". It gives you a bulge in your pants and lets you use urinals in public without being clocked. It also comes with a "pleasure rod" for having sex with. 

Now the first thing I would like to say is THIS HAS NEVER BEEN USED. The item enclosed is brand new out-of-the-box quality, and I would never have sent it if it had been used. What happened is that my ex-boyfriend was always talking about how he wanted one, so I bought one for him for Christmas last year, but we broke up before I could give it to him. So I've had this sitting in my closet for almost a year now and it has done nothing but creep me out. So, I wanted to send it somewhere where it might find a new home, where somebody might really need one and it could get some use. Totally understand if you guys just throw it in the trash, but I thought it was worth a try. 

Thanks, 

Jeanne

I stared at the note for a few minutes longer before carefully setting it back in the box and replacing the lid. Nobody had ever requested a packer before, but that didn't mean a demand didn't exist. 

I scribbled a little note out for myself and taped it onto the box before setting it aside. 

"I think I can find someone who wants you." I told the box. 

The box had no reply. 

Edited. Published 12/18/2020. 1224 Words.