July 20, 1969

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Historical Fiction  |  House: Booksie Classic
It's really short! Sorry...it doesn't deserve to be called a short stroy, it's too short STILL...

Submitted: March 15, 2009

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Submitted: March 15, 2009

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Like heaven-sent tears, droplets of the early dew from the morning were dripping down the windowpane.
A boy with thick, bowl-cut honey hair in an orange jumper watches them intently.
He is mainly looking at two, one of which he thinks will reach the bottom first.
I think I’ll name them, he says to himself. I think they want names.
Cake? Lolly? Chocolate?
“Mam! Mam, do you think that Cake is a good name for a raindrop?” Hi voice is a little stifled, as he has a cold.
His mother looks up from her ironing. She is ironing the boy’s sister’s dress. “Cake? Why cake?”
“Because.”, he says, absentmindedly. Cake does not win, instead the other raindrop does.
A girl with similar hair, but in two messy ponytails runs, thump-thump-click down the stairs.
“Whatcha doing, Ben?” She is changed out of her school uniform, only wearing her favourite shorts and a top with a smiling ragdoll on it.
“I’m racing raindrops.” Ben starts to get up and wanders to the television set.
The girl stands, and watches the crackling screen whilst twirling a piece of her hair in her fingers.
It’s “Sugar Sugar” by The Archie’s.
The doorbell is ringing at the Caules household.
Ben runs to get it, but his Doc Marten’s skid on the carpet runner, and he falls. Luckily, the guests have a key.
“Home early, eh, Sharky?” says a pot-bellied man with a comb over. Behind him is a woman with a sweeping feathered hairstyle of carrot orange.
Ben nods, his fringe flapping in his eyes. “Mrs. Darbon said that we could leave at twelve-o-clock so that we could watch the rocket.”
The man laughs.
“Hi, Uncle Darcy…!”, the boy says, leaping enthusiastically onto the man’s back like he always does.
“Hey, easy off, Shark-boy! You’re gonna snap my back in two, just like that!” With a laid-back smile, he swaggers into the living room while the music from “Top Hits” plays on.
You are my candy girls
And you got me wanting you

I just can't believe the lov-e-liness of loving you,
(I just can't believe it's true)
I just can't believe the one to love this feeling to
(I just can't believe it's true)
Ben’s listening when he feels a bony hand on his shoulder.
“No kiss for your old Aunty, Benjamin?” she says, hugging him. “Am I getting too old for you?”
Ben shakes his head, blushing, when his father comes into the room. He is wearing a tie with little purple fishes on it.
“G’day, Darce. Glad to have you here! Where’s Donna?”
After a brotherly hug, Ben’s father comes to Aunt Donna and gives her a sharp kiss on the cheek.
“Lovely house, Ron. Have you got a new couch?”
“Oh, no, we just got a throw-rug. Actually, it’s…”
All chatter slips away from Ben as he walks to his room, picking up a cricket ball. In some parts, it has little white marks where it has skidded on the park’s cricket pitch too hard. Ben tries to count them…one…two…three…four…Oh, he counted that one twice…
There’s a knock on the door, and his sister stand there. She has a Ginger Bear™ biscuit in her hand, and crumbs down her front.
“Come on, Ben, it’s starting!”
They both race down the stairs, hearts pumping as their shoes fall heavily on the white shag carpet.
Patriotic music is playing. The picture isn’t great, but the feeling is.
Ben’s heart sinks.
“Dad, the rocket isn’t very big! How can they fit everything in?”
His father simply placed his thick hands upon his son’s shoulders, and shushed him.
There was a peculiar man with a white, puffy suit on, His helmet reflected all around him, a blended whorl of stars and raven-blue skies.
A fuzzy, unclear voice came through.
“The…uh, Eagle…has landed. We’re approaching the door, now…Here. Right here. We’re on the moon.”
Ben looked, unblinking, as the thick silver door to the shuttle thudded to the intergalactic floor.
A man stepped out.
“But he’s so small!” said his sister, irritated.
This time it was Ben who shushed her.
“That’s one small step for man…and one…giant…leap for mankind.”
No one cheered. But everyone smiled.
Uncle Darcy’s mouth was hanging open on a hinge, and no breath came out of his mouth.
Aunt Donna was clenching Ben’s sister’s hand.
She was clenching it back.
His mother and father were standing, their eyes wide open, and their Adam’s apples moving rapidly.
Man and woman were molten, running into one in a celebration of life, learning and everything that made the sun rise.
There was dancing, laughing, drinking, yelling, clapping, kissing, smoking, hugging, and happiness.
It was a new day that would trigger hope, faith and belief in human ability. If they could touch the moon, so high, like a lost balloon, then they could do anything.
Man had landed on the moon. It was July 20th, 1969.


© Copyright 2020 122333MexicanPeanut122333. All rights reserved.

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