The Telescope

by Dennis Gamblin

Marge was standing as motionless as a small statue when I arrived. Her arms were folded against her thin breasts and she stared at the evening  sky; a breath of October wind blew past her and she pulled her sweater tighter before brushing an auburn lock of hair from her face. When I got out of my car she gave me a distracted glance and a slight wave before turning her attention back towards the sky.

I stood next to her and said nothing.

“It seems like he’s been gone forever,” she said quietly. “It almost seems like he was never here.”

“A lot of us miss Tony,” I said. I dug two fingers in to my shirt pocket before remembering that I had quit smoking several years ago. “He was the best of us all. I just don’t understand why he accepted that mission. He could have just as easily retired. No more risks. No more flights to the Moon, or Mars, or anywhere. He could have stayed here. Earthbound. Safe.” Gravity seemed to let loose of me a bit; it felt like my body was empty and swaying in the breeze. “But, Marge, you have to remember, he is still listed as missing. We never confirmed that his ship broke-up. We just lost communication with him. That’s all. He could still be...”

“No. He’s not coming back. Besides, he belongs up there,” she said, her eyes glistened in the dusky light. “He always said that he could almost see Heaven when he was up there, between the stars.” She drew a deep breath then sighed a long sigh, and asked, “I wonder what it’s like up there? It looks lonely to me.”

“It’s...it’s different up there,” I said. I watched the stars as they began to yawn and blink and stir awake. “Up there, there is no sound. No smell. No up or down. Only calm. Everything moves as fast or as slow as you want it to until you forget who you are – where you are. You find yourself overwhelmed. There is so much to see – just one more galaxy, one more solar system. Part of you wants to go home and part of you wants to find another moon, another planet. Sometimes you wish you could just stay there and float forever, from star to star, in your little titanium and steel shell, and you probably would if the automatic pilot didn’t over ride your controls because you are low on food or water or fuel.” I exhaled a tired breath. “Of course, these days we have nuclear power to reach light speeds. And hundreds of planets that have plenty of food and water have been found. Everything else you need for a fifty year flight can be packed in a suitcase.”

It had turned dark. Stars were spread and shining like diamonds scattered on black velvet. It was getting late and I had my own life, my own realities to return to, so I asked, “If there is anything Sarah or I can do for you...”

“Oh, I’m just fine,” she said with a wave. “My daughter stops by now and then, helps me manage my bills. Tony was careful to make sure I was cared for. He always made sure of that. He kept on buying me all kinds of silly things.” She held out her hand with fingers spread. “He bought me a guitar right after we met because I had long fingers. And he bought a vacuum cleaner that buffed shoes and sharpened knives when all I needed was one that vacuumed floors.” She let out a tired but honest laugh, and said, “Why, just before he left he bought me a ...” Her eyes opened nearly as wide as her speechless mouth. She took a few tiny steps towards the house before begging me to wait just one more minute. Then she ran inside.

I heard a closet door open, a few boxes and possibly an umbrella hit the floor, until, finally, she came outside, dragging a very large and very long box behind her.

“He said this was the most powerful one made.” Breathlessly, she laid the box on the ground.

“A telescope,” I said.

“Yes. He was going to set it up before he left but he had to leave early. Something to do with the weather,” she said with a shrug as she opened the box.

The telescope lay there wrapped in plastic and surrounded by molded foam; it was indeed the most powerful one made – you could probably spot a golf ball on the Moon with it – but it was never made available to the general public. How did Tony manage to get it past security? It really did not matter because there it was and Marge was struggling to get the tube from the box.

“Will you help me put this together,” she asked.

“Sure, but can’t it wait until tomorrow? It is kind of late and ...”

“Oh no!” Her words were nearly panicked. “It may be cloudy tomorrow – even raining. Or the Earth may have rotated just enough so that I won’t be able to see. Who knows? But I can’t afford to waste another night.”

She pulled the legs of the tripod out along with a bag of nuts, bolts, and screws.

I checked my watch. “I guess I could run home and get some tools. I can be back in about an hour.”

Marge got to her feet as fast as her stiff joints would allow, and said, “Tony has plenty of tools in the basement you can use. Now run down there and get what you need and I’ll make some coffee. I’ll even call Sarah and tell her that you’ll be a little late.”

I did not argue with her as she hurried off, she was as happy as I had seen her in months.

It took me over an hour to finish because government telescopes do not come with instructions. But when I did finished, its polished, black tube was pointed to the sky and ready to capture Mars or Venus or Neptune in its giant eye and deliver their image to whoever cared to peek in the eyepiece. I was about to look when Marge let the screen door slam behind her; she moved slowly towards the telescope, which pointed to the far reaches of her wonder, of her imagination. Her fingers brushed its smooth surface lightly so as not to disturb its angle.
“Would you get a chair for me,” she asked as her eyes still studied the telescope.

I helped her into her chair, adjusted the telescope’s height and watched her peek into the eyepiece. She barely even waved as I wished her a good night; she only sighed, and said, “I can almost see Heaven.”

And I believed her.

THE END

“The Telescope” was previously published in the e-zine GrandReflections in January 2004.

Dennis Gamblin’s short stories have appeared in electronic and print format in publications such as The Threshold, EventsQuarterly, Grand Reflections and SuperDeformed. His non-fiction has appeared in HardCore Muscle.