My grandson’s up there.

Up where?

Right there. You see him? I can’t.

I can’t see where you’re pointing, Mr. Ewell. The sky? Do you mean heaven?

No, Jen, no, he ain’t dead. Hah. He ain’t headed to the Lord
yet. He’s up on the moon.

Oh, he is?

Yes, been up there
seven years now, I think it is. He works at NASA,
you knew that?

Yes, you told me that. Here, six pills today. Drink your water. Swallow.

Thank you Jan. Yes, he told me back in o'six or o'seven he’d be goin up on the moon that next year.

Mr. Ewell

He said he’d be in a sea of tranquility. You see that silver spot
on the left there? That’s where he is. I remember him
telling me. You remember Sammy?

Of course I do. He used to visit every Sunday. He loved talking with you about the space shuttles. But Mr. Ewell

When I look up there, when the night air’s thin
and thick clouds ain't there, I’m lookin right at him.
And when he’s lookin down at Sarasota he’s lookin right
at me. You believe that? I’m here and he’s there in space
and our eyes are meetin. But I need a telescope so I can see him.

Mr. Ewell
Sam passed away. Do you remember?

He’s up there all right. Keep your eye on the moon
and tell me if you spot him. I hope I see him soon.
10

You might also like…

Poetry

The Blue Lady

Susan Ayotte

Melody jostled a dust-coated box into the backseat of her car. The box had remained untouched for the three years she'd been at Harvard. Why had she insisted on bringing it to law school? She'd just ...  [+]

Poetry

Pinhole

Ria Hill

Hattie didn't mind the children. They were about the only people on earth she didn't mind. She heard the parents telling them to leave her alone, but her seemingly bottomless tin of cookies, which ...  [+]

Poetry