SHOOTING STAR

by

Eddie French

It's cold and dark out here on this hill. I wish I hadn't come. Mum is wearing her winter coat. Even little Carly seems to feel the cold; I can see she's shivering. I put my arm around Mum and Carly grasps it at the elbow. We're both supporting her now.

There's a television news crew over to our left. They're busy sorting out cables and connections, doing all the things busy news crews do at a time like this. Behind us six men with rifles stand, relaxed now, waiting for orders. I wait too; I'm waiting for my father to show himself one last time. I'm not sure if I can stand it, I want to run away, just like I did that day at the school four years ago.

Suddenly it's too late to run; one of the controllers walks over to speak to us.

"About two minutes, Mrs Brannon." He whispers gently to Mum and I know I'm trapped. Mum tries to answer but manages only a quick nod of her head. We huddle closer together.

It's been four years but seems like yesterday to me. I recall every detail. The lunch bell had just rung, my best friend Mike Delaney and I headed to the canteen, when I spotted a soldier at the end of the corridor, just a silhouette really, framed by the noon light of the schoolyard behind him. There was something about the way he stood, as if hesitating, that sent a warning through me, a shiver of expectation. As he got closer, his face told me why he'd come. I knew what had happened. I ran out the door behind him, and to tell the truth, I think I've been running ever since.

"Fall in". The barked order brings the military to attention.

The Padre begins the eulogy. "Four years ago the world lost one of its finest sons to the heavens..."

His voice seems to fade into the background as I look to the stars above. It begins with a warning shout from one of the news crew. My eyes follow the lead of the outstretched arms pointed skyward until I see it. A light in the sky, a dot at first, moving slowly, trailing heaven behind. It gets brighter, faster, a fiery dragon blazing across the sky.

My thudding heart goes silent under my jacket, it's as if time has stopped.

Mum stiffens in my arms as we gaze, eyes transfixed on the beautiful arc being traced against the dusky firmament. Tears roll freely down my cheeks; I can hardly breathe for the savage lump in my chest. I hear the soldier's rifles cock and fire, cock and fire. I can't help it, I cry out. "Dad!"

I raise my fist and punch the air. For the first time in years I can see his face in my mind. Mum and Carly, their faces wet and shiny, lock eyes with me-- we're all smiling and crying and holding on tightly so the earth doesn't move one inch. It's over. After four long years dad has come home. Four years since that line snapped and he spun away from the Shuttle. Four years orbiting the Earth--alone, cold, frozen.

It's over. He's back.

§ § §

Born in Garston, a sub district of Liverpool England, Eddie French began writing at the age of nine. After walking out of school, at fifteen, he found work in a local factory then joined the British Army. His five years of duty included a tour of the far east and a two-year tour of Northern Ireland, then he took up life as a civilian.

After catching up on a lost education by attending college and then a HNC course at Liverpool University, he picked up his writing career where he had left it so long ago.

He now works as a manager for a civil engineering company and is in the process of gaining his Visual Basic Computer Programming qualifications at Mid Cheshire College, England.

You can contact him via eddie@efrench.freeserve.co.uk .

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