The Spaceman
I gazed up at the stars. If there was ever a concrete definition for beauty, this would be it. The sight of the night sky in a rural area was enough to bring a tear to my eye. My parents only allowed the television on for an hour a day after dinner, so I spent most of my time outside.
Then, in 1969, I watched Neil Armstrong become the first person to walk on the moon. I watched wide-eyed and open-mouthed as he took that first step and uttered his famous lines, “that’s one small step for man, one giant leap for mankind.” That day cemented my destiny: I was going to be an astronaut. I remember the next day cutting enough room in the milk carton so it would fit my head. I was one small step from becoming an astronaut.
I think the underlying reason for me wanting to be an astronaut came from the idea of the unknown. Starring up at those stars as a child, I was filled with the warmth of their glow, yet chilled by the unknown. What was I looking at? Is there some other boy, on another planet who is barred from watching television starring back at me?
And then, Neil Armstrong became the first to touch space. How did Buzz Aldrin feel, knowing that he was the second person? He was there, he could have been first, but he wasn’t. That opportunity vanished in front of his very eyes in a flash. The moon was just the beginning. I dreamed of touching the next frontier.
The day they told me I’d be on the next mission to space was the happiest day of my life. And even better: I’d be going to Mars. It was the opportunity of a lifetime. Here, I could become the first man on Mars; I could step onto the red cloud of dust, and speak the words that would inspire the next generation. This wasn’t just my dream: it was my destiny, my duty.
In an instant the Earth faded into outer space. A tear fell down my face as I saw the beauty of the thin line between space and the Earth. It wasn’t space, but it wasn’t Earth. It was an entirely different world, separate from the others. And then there was black. I saw the Earth for what it really was: nothing. It was tiny. Faint. A ball of blue. In the void that surrounds, the Earth was just a speck of dust on a slightly larger speck of dust.
The time it took for us to arrive was used to become acclimated to the weightlessness of space. I won’t lie, it was fun. Floating away from the troubles that weigh us down. Space was everything I imagined it to be. The dream of my childhood was now the reality of my adulthood.
As Mars came in to view I began to think about what I was going to say when I take that historic first step. Maybe I would repeat what Neil Armstrong said, but update it a little: “One small step for man, an even gianter leap for mankind”. Wait, was gianter even a word? When I said it aloud, it didn’t sound as good as it did in my head so I scrapped it. Still, I was going to say something, something that would rally a nation. I would say something in the heat of moment. That’s how I work best.
The ship landed with a soft thud. We put on our suits. The door opened. I stood in the doorway, gazing at the red uncharted landscape that lay before me. This wasn’t just a small step; this was a plunge into the unknown, into the future. I took a deep breathe. I jumped down and landed onto the red planet. I could feel it: the world was watching me. Even though I could not see them, they could see me. “I can see the future.” I said. “And the future is red.” This is what I was going to be remembered by. These words. Were they lame? Would they inspire a generation or laughter? I smiled. It did not matter anymore. I had made history, and whatever I said would go down in history as words of wisdom and insight. Textbooks would have my quote under a heroic portrait of me.
We took a few samples of rocks and some dust before it was time to go. Yes, the moment I had spent an entire life to achieve was over in the blink of an eye. But I didn’t care. I had done it. Dreams do come true. I took an extra-long look at my history before closing the door and ultimately blasting off back to Earth. My world grew smaller and smaller until it no longer existed. I longed for it like it was my home. It was a world without the error of humanity. It was a world untouched my impurity. Such is paradise. I wanted to go back.
The homecoming was more extravagant than I had imagined: we were heroes. I was the hero among heroes. I showered with heartening praise instead of warm water. This was the history that I knew I had created. But this praise was short lived. I could feel their stares. Looking right through me. And then it hit me: my words. Those words that should have inspired a generation for achievement now inspired a generation for ridicule. Everywhere I went, people would address me as “Mr. Astronaut” or “The Martian” or “The Spaceman”, words of endearment laced in spite. They did not mean the praise they sang of. No, they were mocking me. What was once my home had now become a prison of misery. I didn’t want this anymore.
The news stations were playing the video again and again. They were playing my words again and again. I could not turn on a television and not see my face or hear my voice anywhere. And they would play it with Neil Armstrong’s moon landing. What should have been an honor was now disrespect to Neil, which sickened me. His history should not be blackened by mine. No, the two should have remained separate. I could not stand the comparisons to my hero. I wanted to be like Neil, but I knew that I was not on the same level. I knew that I would never be considered as great as he was. Yet, here they were saying that my feat was greater. That I was a bigger pioneer for future space exploration than he was. But he was first. How could they forget that?
Then they asked me to come on their shows. And I did. I had an obligation to this country to do so, but that didn’t mean I had to like it. The more the spotlight was shined on me the more I wanted to step out of it. The more the spotlight was shined on me the blinder I became. Not that it mattered. I did not want to see the fame monster I had become. It was too much. I realized now why people wanted to explore space so much: they wanted to escape from Earth. When people die they will roam the Earth because it is hell. I had found a world, so pure, so innocent, and I wanted to go back. To escape the taint that is the Earth and start anew on Mars. That was where I belonged, not here constantly in the spotlight. There were more important people to worry about; I was just doing my job. I never wanted to be a celebrity, just a man of history. Mars. There, there was no gossip; there was no tabloids, no exploitation, no lies. I could live the rest of my days in peace. In escape from what I had become against my will. On Mars, I would have the freest of will. I was going to go back.
I heard of another mission to Mars. I wanted to go, and with my repertoire they had no choice to take me. In the time before the mission, I amassed a collection of food for my travels. And then we left. I was still left in wonderment as I entered space for the second time. Mars was still had the warmth of a burning fire on a cold winter’s night. I was home. As the second team prepared to return to Earth, I made my move. In one of the detachable pods I stored all the food I had brought with me. I determined it was enough to last me a few years: two or even three if I rationed correctly. I informed one of my co-pilots my plan, and against his protests I went through with it. He wished me luck, and said that the next mission would bring me more food or bring me back. “The food would be very much appreciated” I said.
I waved goodbye to my fellow men and gazed back at my new home. Sure, it was barren, but I would fill it with love and belonging. Things I never felt on Earth. This was the dawn of a new life for me. I gazed at the void that surrounded me. My promising smile soon turned to a frown. The winking sky I once stared up at as a child was actually empty and soulless. Still, it beat the empty and soulless gazes of those judging liars. Here, I would be appreciated for what I truly was: I pioneer to the future. When the next group arrived, they would see the first colony on Mars. Not only was I the first man to walk on Mars, but I was also the first man to live on Mars.
I waited for what felt like eons for the next team to arrive. I was almost out of food when the shuttle landed with a soft thump. The saw my trash in the hole from which I had designated for it. They searched for something, I couldn’t tell what. I called out to them, but they didn’t hear me. But I could hear them. I could hear their cackles, mocking me.
“Do you think he left?”
“No. His ship is still here. We could search for years and never find his body in this barren wasteland.”
The ship left as soon as it came. Those bastards. They come and mock me and don’t bring any food. I’m glad I left those people behind on Earth. Those people don’t know what home means. Here, I am home.
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