A Journey Beyond the Stars

Nobody at NASA cared about the weather in Connecticut. That was obvious. But my Aunt Margaret couldn’t help herself, pacing around the house all morning and pressing her face to the front window, anxiously searching for thunderstorms. My mom had snapped at her for leaving smudges of lipstick on the glass, and, of course, Margaret yelled right back. And before long, it turned into one of those family arguments that never seemed to end.

It was the day of my brother Lucas’s wedding, the same day as the moon landing. And rain meant something big. It could be a sign of good luck for the new couple, a shower of blessings from the heavens. But it also meant the astronauts, including one of our own—Tommy Donnelly from our town—might be struck by lightning, plummeting back down into the ocean. They were already so far from us, though, that nothing here could touch them. Still, Margaret insisted: they were doomed, and we’d lose the race to the moon.

But it didn’t rain. Instead, the air was thick and muggy, just enough to make the colorful streamers on the back of Lucas and Sophie’s limo start to melt. But no rain.

Later, I stepped out into the parking lot of the restaurant to light a cigarette, far from the fading reception inside. The place was quiet now, the guests rushing home to catch the moon landing on TV. The back room, where we’d had the reception, was hardly anything to write home about—it was rented by Sophie’s father, and he was known to be frugal. But even though most of the party had cleared out, I could still hear voices, muffled through the door.

I struck a match from the book I had grabbed from the counter, the tiny flame flickering before settling, and watched the smoke curl toward the sky. They were up there now, flying through the vacuum of space. It was insane to think about. They were up there, and I was down here, with just the thin trail of smoke connecting us, maybe, just maybe, across the miles. It seemed like a good way to feel close to them, in a world where so few people really saw you.

"You better hurry up!" Margaret's voice echoed from the front door. "You need to get to the church before Sophie does!" Her words, of course, were frantic. "If she gets there first in her dress, it’s bad luck. Curse on the whole family. You’ll never have kids, and it'll break my heart!”

And so we did what Margaret warned against. That afternoon, me, Lucas, and the other three groomsmen squeezed into the back of a limo. They were all shouting for the radio. I was stuck in the back corner, watching as they leaned forward like statues of gargoyles in a hurry to get to the ceremony.

The chauffeur—a guy in one of those silly little caps—had the broadcast of the moon landing running. We sat there, waiting, listening as the countdown ticked away. And when the Eagle finally landed—without any explosions—the car erupted into cheers. The driver floored the gas pedal, swerving the limo with excitement as it sped away from the curb, nearly taking out a lamppost in the process. I clutched the door handle, watching the streets pass by like a dream, so familiar yet, in that moment, so alien. This was one of those moments that changes everything. From now on, there would be everything before this moment and everything after it.

We had to take a detour around the block because of road closures, and when we arrived, Sophie and her bridesmaids had already made it to the church. A woman in a pink dress—Sophie’s sister—was waving at us from the sidewalk. I later found out she’d had to lock Sophie in the church basement, on account of bad luck and all.

I took a deep drag of my cigarette and let my eyes flutter closed, when suddenly the back door to the hall swung open. The sharp click of shoes on pavement followed, and I looked up to see a waiter—a tall guy in a green vest, sweat dripping from his forehead—coming toward me. He was freckled, like little flames on his neck and arms. He nearly bumped into me, flustered, his face as red as his freckles.

“Oh! Sorry, man! Wasn’t looking,” he stammered, running a hand through his messy hair, offering a smile that didn’t quite cover his awkwardness.

“No worries. You good?” I said, offering a lazy smile.

“Yeah, yeah. Just needed a smoke break. You got a light?” he asked, pulling out a pack of cigarettes from his pocket.

I passed him my matches, and he lit one. “Thanks a ton,” he said, taking a quick puff. “You know, you can smoke inside. Guests can. Not me, though. Gotta come out here for my fix.”

“Yeah, well, my mom doesn’t know I smoke,” I chuckled, a bit embarrassed, but also amused. “And she doesn’t know I know she does, either. Out the bathroom window, like a sneak.”

He laughed—big and hearty—like something out of a movie, then blew out a cloud of smoke. "Looks like a nice wedding," he said. "You with the bride or groom?"

“The groom’s my brother,” I said. Feeling I should say something more, I added, “Name’s Alex. Alex Finley. People call me Al.”

"People call me Jack,” he grinned, eyeing me a bit before adding, “I saw you dancing earlier. Really cutting a rug, huh?"

"No one even knows I’m gone,” I shrugged, glancing back at the party. I could see Nan, one of the bridesmaids, a pretty, bored-looking woman, dancing alone. I’d been paired with her, and though she didn’t really seem into it, we still danced together. The whole thing felt a little out of place.

“They landed on the moon, you know. We heard it on the radio,” I tried to make conversation.

"Uh-huh," Nan hummed, her eyes scanning the room. "Have you seen Joey? I was supposed to save a dance for him, but Marie paired him with Rita—because they're both so tall. Ugh, I hate being short.”

“I haven’t seen him,” I said.

“Well, whatever,” Nan sighed. “Maybe he’ll see us having a good time and come over.”

"Yeah, maybe." I nodded but couldn’t shake the feeling that something was off about all of this.

"How old are you, Al?" she asked, still glancing around. “You’re Lucas’s younger brother, right?"

"Nineteen. Today, actually. My birthday."

“Ah. Teenager." She didn't seem impressed.

I crushed my cigarette under my foot and gave a tight grin. "I don’t really know her, by the way. Nan. I just danced with her to be nice," I added, hoping to explain the situation.

Jack laughed again, and I found myself feeling a little envious of how carefree he was. I couldn’t remember the last time I’d laughed like that. "You should be nice to me," I said quickly. "I’m a customer. And it's my birthday.”

His eyes widened. “Wait, what? Your brother picked your birthday to get married? That’s cold, man. Now it’ll always be his anniversary, not your birthday. That's rough.”

“I’m not bitter about it,” I said. "Weddings are a big deal."

“Well, happy birthday, Al." Jack met my gaze, holding it for a second before letting out another laugh, smoke curling up from his lips.

“Thanks, Jack,” I said, feeling a bit lighter.

"Turns out, you’re the only one to say it to me today," I mumbled.

“I know how that feels.” Jack’s voice softened. "You know, I’ve always wanted to go see that Loch Ness Monster in Scotland. Saw a photo of it in a magazine once. That’s what I want to do. Explore. Bring it back to Connecticut, show everyone."

I blinked at him, taken aback by how much he seemed to believe in that crazy idea. He lit another cigarette, his face glowing with a strange enthusiasm, like he could reach for something impossible. “You could, you know. Go find it.”

“And you,” he said, “You should go back inside and tell everyone it’s your birthday.”

I had no real response to that, so I just shrugged. He reached out and clapped me on the shoulder, a friendly, reassuring gesture.

"You know, sometimes I think I was born just in case Lucas didn’t make it. Not that he was ever in any danger, but… well, just as a backup,” I laughed, though I was only half-joking.

Jack gave me a knowing look. “Backup. Smart.” Then, his face dropped. “Me? I don’t know what tomorrow brings. But I bet when I go back in there, I’m getting fired. I broke a dish, told him to kiss my ass for good luck.”

I nodded. I understood.

Before I could say anything more, Jack grabbed my arm and pulled me toward the sky, laughing and pointing.

"I see ‘em, Al! I see them up there! They’re waving back at me!"

I looked up, and for a second, I thought I could see them too. Maybe Neil, or Buzz—maybe all of them.

We laughed, jumping and waving at the sky, forgetting where we were. Everything felt possible for the first time in forever.

But then, Aunt Margaret barreled through the door, huffing and puffing.

“There you are, Al! What are you doing out here? Today of all days! Come on, let’s go watch the television.”

“Coming, Margaret,” I said, turning back to Jack. “Hey, maybe one day you’ll find that monster.”

“Maybe I will, Al. You’ve got a good head on your shoulders.” He gave me a wink. “Happy birthday, spaceman.”