The Show Must Go On... A Space Opera

Everyone told me it would be a once in a lifetime experience to travel. This just goes to show that you shouldn’t make life decisions based on other people’s opinions. Today was just another example of how utterly fouled up my life has become.

I just received a stellar-gram from my wife today. Commander Marsh told me to wait until after the party to read it. Did I listen? “NO!” My wife informs me that in my absence of eight months, three weeks, and four days ago; she has given birth to my bouncing baby boy. He has curly red hair (like mine), a birth mark on the tip of his nose (like mine), and very large feet (like mine). She says she was hoping he would look more like her. My family has such dominant genes. She says didn’t sign up for this kind of shenanigans and she’s had enough. She was done.
I thought maybe this might be just another one of those syndromes you read about when women go through a birth of a child. Post Partum depression or something. What can I do from all the way out here? She knew that this was what I went to school for. I couldn’t just leave my post. There was nothing that I could do. How do I explain to her that this job hasn’t been a bed of roses?

I spend most of my time trying to keep the women off my lap, removing their fingertips from my hair… isn’t that enough? I am constantly juggling between work and home. She doesn’t even consider how difficult my job can be here. Of course these are things I don’t dare mention to her. What about me? What about my feelings? I am constantly trying to satisfy the needs and keep up moral of my co-workers. I am certain she doesn’t realize how difficult it can be getting supplies out here. It is a logistical nightmare. When I get flustered and upset; I often find myself being laughed at …. NO ONE takes me seriously! What does she want me to do drop everything and just fly home? Like that is even an option.

Just last week, I was reviewing my program with one of the female staff members. She told me she just found out her fiancé changed his mind. He wasn’t going to get married to her. He was going to marry his sister. I gasped, she went on to tell me he had been living with her and his parents for the last eight years. With his fiancé being absent he has decided he didn’t want to wait for children and a family so the wedding was off. He is going to marry his sister. I was horrified, for her. Embarrassed even, she finally explained that the brother sister duo were only brother and sister legally. She was adopted by his family at the age of eleven years old. It was still awful in my eyes. I tried to console her; I told her I would show her a trick or two. She thought I was trying to make advancements toward her. What a horrible thought. I’m married I profusely explained. She said I waved about like Kermit the frog. She said she could never work on another program with me again.

Two weeks ago one of the senior staff nearly killed a crew member for removing his plate from the table before he was finished with his meal. He said that the crew member was only after his Winkie Cakes.

To make things worse yesterday, while running on the treadmill I was given a very graphic offer of an evening rendezvous with one of the grease monkeys of the motor pool. It gives new meaning to the Don’t Ask Don’t Tell policy.

This place is a nightmare. I don’t want to be here anymore than she wants me to be; but, I am under contract. I thought for the mega money offered with this job it would be a piece of cake. No one told me these people were so strange. No wonder the money was so good.
Here I am. All I can keep telling myself is that it is only a twelve month tour. I can survive. It’s almost over, but, what if they extend me for doing such a good job. What if they see I am the only sane one here? I have kept up some pretty good disguises. She’s mad at me because my son looks like me??!! What can I do about that?

That’s it! I exclaimed. I ran over to the escape hatch and just as I began to pull release arm. Commander Marsh placed a hand on my shoulder and said, “Son don’t, you’ll kill us all”. I let go of the handle and sat down where I once stood.

Commander Marsh took me aside and said that he could put me on the next shuttle out if I could pull myself together. He reminded me, “There was no one to blame and that seeing me again would bring my wife such great joy”. He said. “I had done my duty with dignity and pride.” I felt a surge of renewal. I knew I had my duty to perform; just one more program. The commander had renewed my sense of duty and he understood. I’ll do it! It will be the greatest show in space. No, I didn’t have any elephants, or cannons, or acrobats; but no one will ever perform as well as I will. Who could blame the first clown in space for being upset? I was proud; my newborns son destiny was the same as my own. We could be the first father son act in space. No matter what, there is no denying that bouncing baby boy is my son. From his curly red hair, his oversized feet, and the red dot on his bulbous little nose. I am proud to be his father, and I am going home. We are clowns and I know that my son and I will carry on the family legacy. From this moment forward just as my father’s father taught him; I will teach my son. We will perform with the same energy and pride as I do today. Everything will work out ok. She loves me and she will love our son. So here I go… I fluffed up my hair, gathered my balloon animals, grabbed my juggling balls and entered the room. "Folks," I hollered, “THE SHOW MUST GO ON!!”

Alisa Lucas - Aka. Max Lucas
"The Show Must Go On..."
[Space Opera-Short Story]
Copyright © 2008