Ten Beeps

Nobody can hear a scream in the vacuum of space, or so they say. Funny to think that George had taken part in this argument just under 16 hours ago. If he had known then what now knew he would have bite his tongue and let Lee have the win. He could now, without any doubt, confirm that no one, not a single organism can here you scream in the vacuum of space. George had put it to the test, had ripped his throat raw screaming. He suppose it didn’t matter as he wouldn’t need it anymore. When your grasping for life you can stand to lose an ability or two, better to be a mute then a corpse with a perfectly intact voice box. So he had screamed, kicked and thrashed burning through oxygen at an alarming rate before finally bringing himself under control and succumbing to his drifting.

A faint tone greeted his ear and he looked down to see the current oxygen tank notifying him that it had reached 10 percent remaining.

The tone being his only companion these last 16 hours. He had grown to dread the sound like a husband coming home to a nagging wife.

“Did you get the eggs?” She would ask and without pausing for an answer she would state. “I needed eggs George, what did you do after work”?

Then he would reply “Just got distracted” in a meek voice and she would storm off.

After that he would dream that he was someplace far from people, alone with his thoughts. Far from her constant need to judge him. He shook off the image of her that floated across his mind.

How would she react now. Did she get the news yet? Would she be sad? Would anyone be sad?

Surely some of the folks lost had loved ones but where on the memorial would his name land. He pictured a stone with names engraved and his own near the bottom barely visible through grass that had grown to high.

Once every few years they would think of the day, maybe 20 years from now a documentary would be made exploring the life of those lost. Like the famous picture of lunch on a skyscraper some zealous film student would try to tract down the story of everyone who stayed at the hotel.

Would they find his family? What would they say? “Well he always wanted to get away” or “He was always adrift in his thoughts”. How ironic given the current circumstances. George began to chuckle, felt a stab of pain rip through his throat and refrained.

“Beep”.

George look down to see that his oxygen had reach 9 percent.

Unable to tell if he was right side up George began pin wheeling his arms and rotated in a 360, taking in the vista around him. A pinprick in the distance might be earth. Somewhere in that direction was the floating debris of what was once a hotel. Turning further the beauty of the sun came across his face and he imagined he could feel the warmth from its loving rays. As the sun left his view George went back to staring into darkness. It seemed this was the direction he was meant to look as he always came back to this view. The vastness no longer astounded him, in fact he no longer cared much for space. He suspected if he ever found a way home he would lock in himself inside a closet and never come out. Anything to feel the pressure of something nearby.

“Beep”

The tone this time was accompanied by a rumble in George stomach, he had last eaten over 20 hours before at the hotel diner and was beginning to feel the effects.

His mouth was dry, his last drink had been the red wine with his meal. His last meal, a dry piece of chicken and red wine. He didn’t think at the time that would be the last. He was thinking of expenses and that was the cheapest item on the hotel menu. Had he known he would have sprung for the lobster bisque and the finest wine. Instead he had scanned the list and chosen the cheapest wine without reading its name or description. Now his last meal was a generic red wine and overcooked chicken breast.

He used to wonder about how those on deaths row selected food. Would they select something sentimental or expensive?

He figured he would rather have his grandma’s fruit salad one last time instead of caviar. After all he had never had caviar and what if he didn’t like it. Now not only are you going to die, you’re going to die with the thought of knowing you didn’t even like the food you ordered. Then your last thought is bound to be about how great the kitchen at grandma’s house smelled on Christmas eve and you should have requested the chef make Christmas dinner. There is a reason grandma didn’t serve you caviar. She already knew it wasn’t great and if you had just asked her she would have told you. She also would have told you she’d prefer if the last thing going through your head besides those electric volts be the thought of Christmas with family and not fish eggs.

“Beep”

Turning once again George peered toward to sun. Using his legs he began swimming back toward the hotel. He had tried to stay in the vicinity, imagining a rescue crew would arrive. Hoping they would arrive soon.

Was there an emergency plan?

He imagined the hotel attendant saying “In case of asteroid impact you should be sure to put your own suit on before helping others”.

After showing everyone how to fasten on their space helmet she would follow up with “If you find yourself drifting endlessly in the vacuum of space scream a lot, and once that’s complete flair your arms and legs about a bit and try to stay near the hotel”.

So that’s what he had been doing, hopelessly it seemed but when it’s all you can do, do it even in vain.

Earlier on into his drifting he had imagined finding a satellite. Maybe putting the camera into his face and hoping some far off scientist would see it and signaled the authorities.

After shaking off the excitement he would radio control with a shaky voice and say “Umm Houston, we have an alien wearing a space suit and mouthing save me coming through out satellite feed.”

After a brief pause he would continue ” Whats our protocol”?

A overweight corporate suit would then pick up a phone and say “Get me the president, we need a special meeting of congress to determine who should make first contact”!

After weeks of bickering and late night meetings they would determine Oprah is our best human and send her up to make the words with alien life but all she would find is a cold husk clinging lifelessly to a SpaceX satellite with the words help me still on his lips.

“Beep”

George glanced down to see the needle resting at 5 percent.

He wasn’t the kind to lose hope, never really had any to begin with but he believed that if he had hope it was just about gone.

He pictured those fanatics running through the streets screaming “it’s all over, no one can save us”.

Then they would loot a large screen TV. He could never grasp why they wanted a television when the world was ending. Why spend the last moments of their life watching someone else live their own life.

He felt an overwhelming urge to apply this to his own existence, if he ever got back and if when he got back he felt like leaving the closet, he would never watch the television again. Unless it was for something important he decided to add, water cooler discussions still need subject matter, but no frivolous watching. With this he nodded his head in resolution to no one in particular and felt the matter settled.

He would still go the theaters though, that was different he decided. That was a social event. Even if you go alone you are sharing emotions with someone, unless you go in the afternoon but afternoons are good if you need some space.

Looking around him George had an epiphany, even with all the space in the universe he still wanted a seat at the theater away from all of the others. He was momentarily glad some things hadn’t been changed by his current whereabouts.

Feeling at last that the matter was settled he decided to at long last finally decide on a favorite film. He had been putting it off long enough and there was no time like the present. He played out the thoughts he had strung together into a coherent statement.

I will no longer watch frivolous television unless I am with company, it would be rude to make them shut the television off. I will watch some programs for conversational purposes. If I happen to be entertained then that’s a byproduct of creating future social fodder and I can’t be faulted. I will go to the movies but cut down on my afternoon visits by say reducing them to once or twice a year, whatever is reasonable. If it’s raining maybe I’ll make an exception. Ill definitely use the nice days to be outside and my favorite movie is….

“Beep”

Feeling this line of reasoning interrupted by the tone George decided to move on and leave the big decisions for later in life.

Taking in his surrounding and having rotated back into the blackness George decided to try and take stock of the situation. He didn’t know why but it felt important to replay the events.

Maybe so he wouldn’t repeat them in the future. That had to be it, if by chance he won a random lottery for a free vacation at the newly built space hotel next time he would promptly turn down the offer and take the cash payout. You can’t get me twice, he thought and shook his fist in the air at no one in particular.

Continuing his slow spin he wondered what the chances were an asteroid would appear unnoticed. He was willing to bet, hell he would go down to the casino right now and put money on it, that if he had stayed on earth the asteroid would have whizzed right by without the slightest notice. This was his luck, he had once been shat on by a bird while walking through an empty parking lot.

He didn’t aim to attract disaster but perhaps it was evitable. Who knows what kind of doom he would have brought on the planet had he stayed. The asteroid could have hit his house, had it been aiming for him, then he would wish his was up here as the waters rose and folks looted televisions.

He envisioned himself as a superhero. George “the asteroid magnet” Galapagos saving the world from cataclysmic annihilation by leading the space rocks away from earth with no regard for his own safety.

He smiled as he looked out into the vastness of space and saw himself being welcomed back. He watched himself being carried in a parade down Broadway, flowers and chocolates being thrown from pretty ladies. A medal of freedom was pinned upon his chest. His wife beamed while surrounded by her friends, who were swooning over her in jealously.

He walked to a microphone tapped it with a chuckle “this thing on” and paused for the laughter.

“Your welcome earth, no need to thank me” he’d say with a big smile filled with white teeth. “Im just doing my”.

“Beep”

The vision of George waving to legions of cheering fans faded away and in front of him was the infinite darkness once more.

George decided to stick out his thumb and began swinging his legs positioning his thumb in various directions. Worth a shot he concluded as he completed his first full rotation.

He was willing to take his chances on a being picked up by any passing ship at this point even if it was a Vogon destructor.

Staring wide eyed out in the void hoping someone was scanning for hitchhikers a brief flicker of red greeted his eyes.

Was it! Could it really be, he thought!

Feeling he would look silly out here in space with his thumb sticking out he put his arm down and tried to strike a cool I’m just relaxing pose. This being rather difficult given his current location he only managed to look rather confused and lost.

Peering out once more and bringing one hand up instinctually to his brow George squinted and glared hard out into the vastness. Not seeing the flash again he once more held out his thumb and began rotating.

Almost immediately or as immediately as things can happen with no real sense of time he saw the flash again. George straightened his legs and began kicking, moving toward the faint flash with both thumbs leading the way. He found that with his thumb out he could see the flicker and not wanting to chance it he had decided that come what may his thumbs would lead the….

“Beep”

Kicking his legs rhythmically George continued his paddle toward the distance light.

He imagined the shape it was connected too. He thirsted for interaction. He felt for the first time in a long time that he wanted to share his story with another. He would do the talk shows circuits and write a book. They would ask him questions and make a movie. James Franco with portray him and it would be called “16 Hours”.

The story of one man’s fight to survive the hostile darkness of space. They might need to embellish a bit for ticket sales but he didn’t think that would bother him. One man’s fight to the survive in space after escaping an alien ship that picked him up while he was hitchhiking.

He dreamed as he continued kicking, they would make a franchise. The film version of him would find that he had entire space family. After being home for a few years he would long to meet his alien son. After extensive training he would enlist on a starship crew and set off back into space in search of his lost love and the son they had made together.

Smiling at the image of a family he never had George suddenly decided he would have children. He made a mental note to make this a priority once he was back on earth and continued swimming to the red flicker.

“Beep”

Glancing down George saw 1 percent flash on the digital display and he pushed a little harder toward the light. In his mind he heard the theme for the final countdown play through his head and was driven by the melody to dig deeper than he ever had before. Both thumbs jutting out in front, feet kicking in the darkness he swam on into the void of space.

Across space and time a sound drifted out.

“Beeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeepppppppppppppppppppppppppppppppppppppp”