The sky had turned to gold. His companion paused, staring intently into the sun as it hung just above the vast horizon. Idly, he wondered if the man would be at risk of solar retinopathy.
His own steps slowed as he contemplated the view that stretched before them. It was so picturesque, he could almost believe the claim that this flat patch of nothing-for-miles was "God's country". He turned to the man beside him. "Do you believe in God?"
The taller man looked at him, his expression perplexed. "Believe in God?"
He waited to see if an explanation was required, but none was requested. Instead, keen eyes stared up at the sky again. After a long silence, his friend spoke. "Everything is old, and big, and…strange." There was a hum and a head-tilt. "I think…we only know if we see handcuffs."
He blinked. "Um…what?"
The man frowned at him. "Sorry, I don't know how you make these words in English." The frown deepened, and for a while, the only sound was from crickets and a light breeze stirring the grass. "Reckon you have a friend. But, is this really your friend, or is this a police who wants he listen to you? If you—how is it here— take handcuffs? You know this is a police. But if you don't take handcuffs, you don't know. For all your life, you don't know. What is the English words from this?"
A number of decidedly lower-class words tumbled through his head. "We don't have a saying like that because that kind of thing doesn't happen here. Why is it that the more you talk about your home, the less I want to ever go there?!"
His friend gave a rueful smile. "You can't ever go there."
"Oh, I wouldn't be so sure." He scratched at the new beard and wondered, again, if it was worth the irritation of keeping. "We finally figured out how to get to the moon. It could happen."
"No." The man shook his head and returned his gaze to the sinking band of gold. "Home is…gone."
He left the beard alone. "Gone?"
His friend nodded grimly and gestured with his hands. "Gone. Break." There was another silent pause. "I see it. I see it and I tell the…the big men. The old men. I tell she break and we all go here! The old men…" His friend waved vaguely in frustration, then looked at him. "Pull the other one, it's got bells on."
"Ah." He nodded his understanding. "They didn't believe you?"
"They didn't believe you," the man echoed. "They didn't believe…me. I tell my wife they didn't believe me. I make…"—another frustrated wave—"car. Car in sky."
"Spaceship?" he supplied.
His friend seemed to consider this, then nodded. "I make spaceship. All day, all night. No sleep. No food. Just…work." A scowl stole over his features, and a fist clenched and unclenched. "My wife work with me. She has a youngin'...now…a new youngin'...and she work with me!"
He winced.
"We have small spaceship. I go in, and my wife go in, with youngin', on me. My wife sleep. My youngin' sleep. I don't sleep. I watch spaceship, in dark."
He felt his jaw drop. "And here I thought flying in coach was too cramped and miserable! Were you even getting enough circulation, packed in that way? What about keeping nourished and hydrated? That whole trip must have been brutal!"
His friend took a deep breath and returned his attention to the distant horizon. "We come here. Alive."
Some of those lower-class words escaped his mouth.
After a moment or two spent studying the amber waves of grain, his friend looked at him again. "Do you believe in God?"
He sighed, forcing his mind away from airborne sardine cans. "I…" He paused. "I'm not sure. When I married Ma—my wife, I did. When we had to come here, I certainly didn't anymore. Then our son was born, and I think I did again. I don't know." He shrugged. "Like you said: we're alive."
**********
The light was finally starting to fade when he stepped through the door of the little house. His wife looked up from the newspaper sprawled all over the table, scissors still poised in her hand. "Oh, there you are, Dear! Your dinner's warming in the oven. Did someone have an emergency?"
"Nothing like that, Darling." He dropped a kiss onto her waiting cheek and went to investigate the oven. "I only had a visit with a friend."
"Oh." A coupon for canned peas joined the growing pile at her elbow. "So, is everything alright, then?"
For a while, he stared into nothing. "We'll know if we see handcuffs."
-End-
