Entry #1
Entry #1
The ball dribbles nicely as my fee t carry me across the driveway. Dashing past my opponent, I leap into the air with one hand on the ball and slam home my third dunk of the game! Then, all of a sudden, the hovering basketball hoop short-circuits and a few sparks fly out the top while it wobbles like a spinning top about to lose its balance. I watch as if in slow motion the hoop shuts down and falls ten feet, crashing on the concrete.
Patrick, my best friend, walks around the broken hoop, the inner guts exposed with wires and the hovering mechanism shattered, just like a pane of glass was dropped. He smirks as if this was bound to happen.
“Two years of building this and you’re the one to break it! Sad, the creator destroys his masterpiece…”
Still standing in my spot, I pick up the basketball and throw it at Patrick, but his reflexes are too fast, and he moves out of the way. The ball collides with the right coach light next to the garage door, knocking it off the stucco wall. Great, now Mom is going to notice and she’ll kick my ass. Most 27 year olds move out of their parent’s house, but I was saving money so Patrick, Sofia, and I can all have a place together in the city. However, that dream was shattered by the news of the Earth being destroyed by a meteor, which is happening next month. So won’t be able to enjoy independence for very long.
Ah, Sofia, the third musketeer. A brilliant, beautiful and spontaneous woman who knows her place in this world and does not take crap from anyone, especially the sexists who think women only belong in the kitchen. Too bad she couldn’t join us tonight. The three of us have never missed a game night since the first grade.
As Patrick and I are cleaning up the driveway, a faint distant hum catches my attention. I look up into the sky to witness my mom flying home, her bright blue Precision hovering, waiting for our neighbor to step on the accelerator. There’s a honk, Mr. Night flies away, and Mom flies in, touching down on the street. She pulls into the garage, and Patrick gestures to me as he notices my younger sister Rachael in the passenger seat.
I keep telling him she’s too young. Okay, she’s twenty-four and he’s twenty-six, but I will never stop being protective. Patrick is an awesome dude, but Rachael is not his type. He’s all video games and action movies, while my sister is more into chick flicks and romance novels.
My mom and my sister disembark. Something is wrong, because they are always cracking jokes and enjoying each other’s company. But now, both have worried expressions on their faces, as if they have received devastating news.
“Mom, Rachael, what’s going on? You have the same look as when we learned Dad was diagnosed with cancer four years ago,” I ask, walking up to them.
My mother looks directly into my eyes, trying very hard to hold back the tears. “We must leave Earth sooner than expected, but there is only room for your sister and you.” She gives me a long hug and walks inside the house.
Patrick drops the coach light in shock. I feel like grabbing a baseball bat and smashing everything in sight. The transportation ships are supposed to have room for every household member. The last ships are scheduled to depart on the thirtieth, since the meteorite will strike the planet the following day. But now I guess scientists have gotten new information. I run up to my room and hop on my computer.
Scrolling through the Internet on the NEWS feed, the latest article in the meteorite is at number one. There is only one paragraph.
The meteorite that will destroy Earth and wiping out all signs of life in the galaxy as we know it will be colliding ten days sooner than previously calculated. Transportation ships that are next in line for departure only have room for two household members. These ships are half commercial and half cargo, since the full commercial ships still have not left Space City. More updates to come.
I think, Damnit, NASA, you had one job! Now because of their miscalculations, Rachael and I must say goodbye to Mom, since there is no other way for her to travel to Space City. Domestic vehicles are not built for such a long trek, and there are only four cargo and commercial ships left. They can only accommodate four thousand passengers; the full commercial ships can carry ten thousand.
“I know what you’re thinking, bro.” Patrick startles me from behind. “My parents won’t be coming either. Just got off the phone with them. I’m going to head home and be with them. Talk tomorrow.”
Shutting off the screen, I lean back in my chair, letting out a sigh of frustration and sorrow. My mother means everything, and starting a new life in a bioship without her will not suffice. There must be a way to get her onboard. It may not be legal, but my family will be together.
***
Rachael slams the dry plate on the towel spread across the counter and stares at me for a long five seconds. My proposal to smuggle our mother onto the ships isn’t “flying” with her. Gosh, I love puns. I smirk a little, and she whips me with her drying cloth. When it comes to delivering puns, the opportune moment is usually during bad times. Like when I was fourteen years old, my family attended our great-aunt’s funeral, and as the coffin was being lowered into the ground, I said, “And yet she still remains unseen,” and for the next twenty minutes my father made me apologize to every family member who was there.
“Spencer, this is dang serious! We cannot smuggle our sixty-year-old mother onto a cargo ship! We’ll get caught and thrown in jail. Some new life that will be,” Rachael yells. She has never been comfortable cussing.
I rinse off the last dinner plate and hand it to her. While grabbing a water glass, I realize something. Of course, Dad’s brother can help us! He’s a special agent for the FBI — they must have a secret spaceship to transport our family!
“That’s it,” I say, dropping the glass in the sink, “Uncle Ben can help for sure!”
Rachael pauses, pondering my suggestion. Our uncle is one of those “hoarders,” and it won’t surprise anyone if he has built a spaceship with the help of his buddies who were fired from NASA a year ago. The exact cause of the termination is unknown to the public, and I have a gut feeling Uncle Ben knows the truth.
“Okay, we can give him a call, but don’t get your hopes up,” Rachael says.
And with that, I give my sister a big kiss on the forehead and we finish the dishes.
