Day 10,000

A story for my cousin, Monica. She saves me from floating away every time the phone rings. Thank you for always having the perfect words at the perfect times, for always listening, and for always showering me and others with unconditional love.  Your power is beyond inspirational.  It is an honor to be related to you, cuz. Love ALways, AL 

A steady beep from the device monitoring my heart rate echoes through the halls of this empty vessel.  ALmost empty, to be exact, empty of all life except me, AL, the sole living occupant of life ship #923.  A life ship is a spacecraft designed to house one single human for the entirety of their life.  The life ship is equipped with ALmost everything for my survival and the completion of my mission.

As a baby, the ship provided me with food, shelter, and lessons. I learned how to keep myself alive in space, how to manage and maintain the ship, along with the classics like math, art, science, six languages, engineering, etc.  

My mission is simple. Study the universe. Ejected from earth before taking my first breath, the project managers sent me to space before birth to maximize my time for exploration. Earth literature shows me that a life of solitude would seem a simple, yet unbearable, form of torture for many people; however, I love my life. I have seen worlds that most humans cannot imagine.

At the beginning of this journey, the launch sequence was altered by an unexpected lightning storm. The storm knocked out my ship’s communications and rockets. The result: the ship is still keeping me alive; however, it is not able to be driven. I am stuck. Floating. In space. As I have been since I was a developing embryo in the womb of my ship. I have now been alive, in space for 27 earth years.

How have I managed to stay sane for all of these years of directionless solitude? Short answer: I haven’t. Medium answer: a mixture of hope and acceptance. Long answer: daily exercise, space gardening, balanced diet, daily routines involving hygiene and ship maintenance, meditating, studying, reading, making music, and writing.

Alas, I write. What to write about today, on this day of days, the same as all days, and the only day that will ever be exactly like this day? I will continue this mission, I will study the universe today. There is no way to transmit my findings to anyone. I don’t care anymore. I have no way of controlling where in the universe I am being pulled. What freedom I have in having absolutely no control.

I pull up the north shade on the observation deck. My eyes are filled with starlight. The sight of radiant neighboring suns fill me with thanks as I feel blessed that I am the only human experiencing this corner of infinity.

I sit in the starlit cabin and begin to journal. “Day 9,999… What a beautiful number! A powerful string of digits for a powerful day.” CREEEEEEAAAAAAAAKKKKKK! The deafening predictability of only hearing sounds that come from me for the last 27 years is cut by a loud metallic moan from the ship. I fall to the floor as the ship lurches forward. Excitement of the newness of this situation fills me. Before I can make a plan, the source of the movement becomes apparent. I run to the north shade in the observation deck and rip it open.

Exactly as I thought. Pitch blackness is approaching, sucking up all the specs of light that filled the other window. Without control of the rockets, there is only one outcome of this scenario: I am being sucked into a black hole. At the speed the light is being consumed, I estimate that there is another three seconds until I am the first and only human to explore a black hole. Die in a black hole. 3. If I die, what would I like my last thoughts to be? 2. Alone, I have seen the stars, nameless colors, and countless planets full of life. Thank you universe for all of the experiences. Thank you for this vessel. Thank you for taking my ship’s communications and power. 1. Once I had no control over my direction, once there was no mirror to see my reflection, I became me. I will die free. 0.

All the light is gone. Time and space are collapsing on itself, the ship, and me. I try to open my eyes and look around. All darkness. I try to shout. No sound. I feel consumed with peace. There is no motion. There is no temperature. There is no you. There is no me. There just is.

I wonder… if this just is, then this is peace, and if I am here, then couldn’t… Wouldn’t my peace include… The phone rings… Yes, the phone rings. I am both surprised and not surprised.  Now understanding the make up of this blackness, I imagine the phone, then it appears. I imagine I have this black hand answering the ringing phone.

“Al… Al, this is your cousin, Monica. Are you there? You don’t have to say anything just… Just know that even though we have never met, I love you. And I am here for you. In fact, your ship is landing in Chicago right now and I am here to pick you up. I love you, and I can’t wait to meet you!” 

I imagine that I have eyes, to cry. When I blink, the blackness is replaced with the most magnificent colors I have ever seen. The ship, now full of life, dares me to test the rockets. I look at the switch and laugh. Heart pounding out of my chest. No rockets are needed. “Earth,” I imagine, “family!“ “love!“ and finally, “Chicago…”

I take a moment to savor one last gulp of alien air. Thankful for the past and ready for the future, I focus on the only time that is real. The present finds me closing my eyes. I open them and look down. At my hands, my belly, and my feet. I look up at my cousin. Holy shit! She looks just like me! I am me. Reflecting in her eyes.