The Other Option(s)

The Other Option(s)…..

By Frederick J. Blahnik

 

In the event of moon disaster:

Fate has ordained that the men who went to the moon to explore in peace will stay on the moon to rest in peace.

These brave men, Neil Armstrong and Edwin Aldrin, know that there is no hope for their recovery.  But they also know that there is hope for mankind in their sacrifice.

These two men are laying down their lives in mankind’s most noble goal:  the search for truth and understanding.

They will be mourned by their families and friends; they will be mourned by their nation; they will be mourned by the people of the world; they will be mourned by a Mother Earth that dared send two of her sons into the unknown.

In their exploration, they stirred the people of the world to feel as one; in their sacrifice, they bind more tightly the brotherhood of man.

In ancient days, men looked at stars and saw their heroes in the constellations.  In modern times, we do much the same, but our heroes are epic men of flesh and blood.

Others will follow, and surely find their way home.  Man’s search will not be denied.  But these men were the first, and they will remain the foremost in our hearts.

For every human being who looks up at the moon in the nights to come will know that there is some corner of another world that is forever mankind.[1]

 

“My fellow astronauts, my fellow Americans……my fellow Earth-dwellers……This is Neil Armstrong……“

“It is my distinct privilege to speak to you tonight under this unique set of circumstances–circumstances no fellow human being other than me and my close colleague Buzz Aldrin, who is sitting immediately to my right–have ever encountered in the past.”

“Yesterday afternoon, Buzz and I experienced the incredible good fortune of being the first two humans to land on the surface of another celestial body–our Earth’s moon–and then mere hours later we were able to get out of our spacecraft and walk around on that body’s extraterrestrial surface.  What an unbelievable privilege that was for us, and we two will forever feel fortunate for our sublime luck.  In a single day–in the span of but a few hours–I walked where no man has ever walked before, I stared up at the Earth in the nighttime sky much as I stared in wonder at the moon as a boy back home in northwestern Ohio, I spoke on the telephone with the president of the United States, and for a few shining moments……I was the undisputed focal point of all humankind.  How many other people can lay claim to these distinctions other than my trusted colleague Buzz?  This stirring confluence of circumstances was far more than a fresh-faced Boy Scout from tiny Wapakoneta, Ohio could ever have imagined……”

There followed a long, pregnant pause.

“But then……but then this morning when it came time to depart the lunar surface–to leave this desolate, enchanted world where no Homo Sapiens has ever tread before…….our luck abruptly changed for the worse…..”

There was an awkward five second interval of dead air while the whole earthly world held their breath and waited for more information.

“As you already know, the spacecraft that was to have returned Buzz and I to our mother ship malfunctioned…….and consequently–we will not be leaving the moon’s surface this morning.  Let me repeat that so as to be absolutely clear:  We WILL NOT be leaving the moon’s surface………….…….today….or ever……

Despite heroic efforts on the part of NASA personnel back home in Houston which went way beyond their standard call of duty, nothing more can be done for us here.  Buzz and I fully realize our fate……and the fact that we are destined to live out our remaining hours–however few or many they may be–on the surface of the moon.”

Armstrong stopped talking for a moment.

“Buzz and I have fully accepted this inevitability and are prepared to proceed accordingly………”

Again, there was a long uncomfortable pause, even longer than the preceding one, before the firm but melancholy voice began speaking again.

“However, the two of us would like to make one thing perfectly clear to all of you listening back on Earth:  Please do not take pity on us!!!  Buzz and I fully understood going into this enterprise the mighty risks we were facing.  We understood those risks…..and yet we were willing and even eager to embrace them.

Why???

Because astronauts are by nature serial adventurers, and just like Marco Polo and Christopher Columbus and Lewis and Clark and Charles Lindbergh and Amelia Earhart before us, we undertook this most extreme of all adventures knowing full well we might not be returning to our families and homes back on planet Earth.  And now this morning, that worst of all scenarios has suddenly devolved into a hard, immutable fact……”

There was more silence from the moon, lasting probably ten seconds this time, while the lunar commander stopped once more to gather his thoughts.

“So please do not pity us and rue our fate and shed tears over the dilemma we face, but rather join us in celebrating the magnificent events of yesterday.  Buzz and I felt extraordinarily honored to represent our families, our great country and all the citizens of the United States, and the whole of humankind in taking this giant stride forward into the future.  The fact that we will now not be returning home to celebrate with each one of you in person is not important in the big scheme of things.  No, rather we made it here, we walked on the surface of the moon, and the clock on this remarkable scientific and technological advance can never again be turned back to an earlier time and place.

We did it; we landed…..and Buzz and I subsequently tread on the surface of the moon!!

Truly amazing stuff that is!!!” 

There was another pause in the lunar transmission, this time shorter than before. 

“And I don’t mean just the two of us astronauts either; this monumental achievement could not have been possible without the assistance of all our hard-working associates back in Houston, as well as every taxpayer in America who contributed some of their hard-earned money–however large or small–to finance this supreme adventure.  Buzz and I congratulate you and thank you from the bottom of our hearts for your stupendous hard work and your surplus of great personal sacrifices on our behalf.”

Although his voice had held up well throughout the now-lengthy recitation, Armstrong’s emotionless monotone started to wobble and break apart at this juncture.

“The time has now come for Buzz and me to bid farewell to you, our fellow earthlings.  And as we do so, it is with a heavy heart but a joyful spirit.  I have led a life of nearly four decades replete with thrills and constant danger, but those erstwhile allies have–for reasons known only to God–experienced a sudden change of heart and turned their backs on me today.  But I do not beg for mercy and cower in fear before certain death in a matter of a few hours on the surface of a distant heavenly body.  Rather, I thank my Creator for everything I have been allowed to experience in my thirty eight years of life.  I am no whiz when it comes to remembering dates, my fellow Americans, but I think it was about the year 1940 when baseball great Lou Gehrig stood before an overflowing crowd at Yankee Stadium in New York City and uttered the immortal words, “Today I feel like the luckiest man on the face of the earth…….”

“Well…..I would like to second his opinion on this occasion, only with a unique twist:  Tonight–speaking to all of you on Earth from a bleak moribund celestial satellite 243,000 miles away, I feel like the luckiest man on the surface of the moon…….even taking into account the fact there are only two of us up here.  Do not worry about us, do not waste prayers on us, and surely do not cry over the predicament Buzz and I face; I promise you—we’ll be okay……..yes, we’ll be okay…..

When I finally quit speaking to you tonight, I intend to go back outside the lunar module, tend to our experiments, do a little more exploring, and enjoy the moon’s surface for as long as I possibly can….…until my finite supply of oxygen ultimately runs out.  Just like the noble American cowboys of yesteryear, I intend to perish with my boots on and a large smile lighting up my face, knowing that I died doing what I love doing by far the most…….”

“I would like to take this opportunity to wish each one of you back on Earth a good night, and to thank you once again for extending a distinctly ordinary boy from Wapakoneta, Ohio the extraordinary privilege of representing humanity on this historic lunar mission.  And the next time you step outside and gaze up at the moon–which you may in fact be doing this very instant as I finish speaking–smile up at me, wave a little wave, and know that I died doing what I love best—piloting an aircraft and exploring the unknown.”

Careful listeners later swore they could hear muffled crying in the background as Armstrong’s voice dropped to a barely audible whisper.

“From this point onward……I am the moon……..……and the moon is me……”

And next there followed dead silence on the other end of the quarter-of-a-million-mile transmission.

 

 

“Jesus Christ, I’m scared to fuckin’ death up here…… 

Neil…….Neil, are you afraid of dying?” 

The man’s voice was soft and plaintive.

“Of course I am, Buzz.  But what I feel doesn’t really make a bit of difference right now.  We’re going to die regardless; that issue has already been decided.”

His steady, implacable voice reflected the cold, calculating demeanor of an engineer, the career for which the demigod Neil Armstrong had trained at Purdue University decades before.

“I know that, Neil, but I’m still scared to death.  When I used to think about death–which wasn’t very often, mind you–it was occurring spontaneously back home on Earth when I was about eighty or ninety years old and a tottering old man.  I surely didn’t envision being a quarter of a million miles away from my family and sitting on a cold fuckin’ enormous chunk of rock–trapped inside a cock-a-mamey little space contraption and just waiting to die like some incorrigible death row inmate.  I always dreamt about being the first person to walk on the moon, Neil……not the first person to die on the moon, for Christ’s sake!  Ya know what I mean, Neil?  Do ya?!?!”

“Sure, Buzz…….suuuuuuuuuure.  But the fact remains we’re gonna die here on the moon irrespective of all your introspection, so you might as well get accustomed to that happening, okay??  I don’t wanna die any more than you do, but unless you believe in miracles and I personally sure the fuck don’t, our deaths are gonna transpire here on the moon’s surface……and fairly quickly too, I might add……”

“Dammit, Neil, why do you always have to be so level-headed about everything?!  Here we sit on the goddamned moon, waiting to die–243,000 fuckin’ miles away from the next nearest living human being–and you make it sound as though we’re waiting to catch a bus to the local library!  This is death we’re talking about here, Neil!!! 

WE’RE GOING TO DIE RIGHT HERE ON THIS GODFORESAKEN CELESTIAL ISLAND OF ROCK IN A MATTER OF A FEW HOURS, FOR GOD’S SAKE!!!  Don’t you realize that?!?!  Don’t you even fuckin’ realize that…….?!?!?!”

A pronounced change in tone and attitude originated from our next speaker…..

“Do you think I don’t know that, Buzz?!?!  Do you think I’m a fuckin’ idiot?!?!  You don’t have to keep reminding me of the hopeless situation we face, for Christ’s sake!!!  But what the hell do you want me do about it–start bawling and panicking and praying for eternal salvation like some goddamned abandoned baby???  I know we’re gonna die soon—That’s a fact, goddamnitall!!!—and therefore I’ve come to terms with the stark reality we face!!

And do you know what?!?!?!

SO SHOULD YOU, YOU BLABBERING, COWERING ASSHOLE………!!!!!”

 

 

“Is the mike off, Neil………is the mike turned off?!”

Neil Armstrong glanced over at the tiny light indicating a live microphone.  It was now red in color.

“Yeah, it’s off, Buzz.  Why do you ask?”

“Because now that we’re stuck up on this desolate piece of shit for all eternity, I just wanna make one thing perfectly clear to you, Neil:  I never could stand your guts, and you’re the biggest phony and glory-hogging son-of-a-bitch I ever met in my entire life!!” 

The final words frothed venomously out the side of the lunar co-pilot’s mouth.

“WHAT?!?!?!

Why, you worthless piece of cow manure!!!  I got stuck with you on this mission, Aldrin, you incompetent mound of dogshit–against my best wishes, I might add–and now you have the temerity to stab me in the back while we’re sitting her on this freezing fuckin’ moon waiting to die?!  I oughtta take you outside right now and ram your shitass smirking face into the nearest lunar boulder I can find!!!

What an ungrateful son-of-a-bitch you really are!!!”

“UNGRATEFUL!!!!! 

You have the balls to call me ungrateful, Armstrong, you pathetic, glory-hogging little cunt?!?!  I’ll tell you who’s ungrateful!!  In my capacity as lunar module pilot, I by all rights should have been the first one out of this capsule last night to walk on the moon.  But did I get to?? 

Well…..did I??? 

Huh?? 

HUH?!?!

NO, OF COURSE NOT!!!!! 

Your fuckin’ oversized ego wouldn’t stand for that!  Instead you had to butt in front of me and steal the spotlight all for yourself, Shit-for-brains!!  With your lame little ‘That’s one small step for man, one giant leap for mankind’ bromide.  What a colossal snore that turned out to be, for God’s sake!!  Couldn’t you have at least thought up something a little more profound and memorable?” 

The lunar module pilot stopped speaking then, but only for a split second.  Sarcasm next seized control over his voice and wouldn’t relinquish its grip. 

“No, probably not; I forgot that we’re dealing with a neutered, one-dimensional engineer here who possesses all the pizzazz of a garden slug!”

“FUCK YOU, BUZZ!!!!

Yeah, fuck you all over, you goddamned worthless, backstabbing son-of-a-bitch!!!  For Christ’s sake, I knew all along that you were a pathetic, incompetent asshole, but I realize now l still didn’t come close to giving you enough ‘credit’ for your overall uselessness; your jealousy and pettiness know no bounds!  Every average American teenager could brag of twice the maturity level of you, and would doubtless be a more skilled lunar module navigator as well!!!”

 

 

President Nixon had just finished speaking on national television while our two intrepid heroes sat alone in their lunar module–243,000 miles away from home–listening quietly to his address.  Maybe the gravity of their dilemma hadn’t really sunk in until they heard the leader of the free world describing to the remainder of Earth’s population the hopeless situation the astronauts faced.  In any event, the doomed pair was totally silent for a good five minutes after the President finished speaking.

“Neil……..? 

Neil…….? 

Do you believe there is a God overseeing everything?”

The celebrated explorer Neil Armstrong thought for thirty seconds before replying.

“I don’t know.  I suppose it’s possible………..

I guess I never even seriously considered the possibility before right now.  Do you think there exists an all-powerful God, Buzz?”

“I don’t know either……..but I’m starting to lean in that direction.  What is there really left to think?  We’re sitting here stranded on the moon–a quarter of a million miles away from any rescue mission–just waiting to die.  And when we do…….we eternally cease to exist. 

Or do we?!?! 

I just don’t know, Neil, I just don’t know.  It’s a question you obviously don’t think about when you’re sitting on top of the whole fuckin’world like we were yesterday…..but then when you abruptly get knocked from your perch……”

Armstrong remained speechless throughout.

“Let’s face the facts here:  At the most, we only have a few hours left to live….…and then we disappear off humanity’s radar screen forever.  I guess deep inside my heart I’d like to think there’s more to life than just that……”

Armstrong finally spoke up.

“I know where you’re headed with this line of thought, Buzz.  God and an abiding faith in a Supreme Being were the last things on my mind while we were preparing for this mission, but now–sitting here helpless, knowing there’s absolutely nothing we can do anymore to influence our outcome……..

And have you thought about what’ll happen to our bodies once we die?  Because there are no bacteria here on the moon’s surface, our bodies will be encased intact within this miserable spacecraft like a damned sterile mausoleum for all eternity, or at least until someone from Earth comes along in fifty or a hundred years to claim them and take them back to Earth for proper disposal.  We won’t even get the opportunity to fatten a few nightcrawlers back on Earth’s lush surface, Buzz……..”

Cue indignation married to impatience.

“Jesus, Neil, you don’t have to be so goddamned realistic about this whole thing!  I never wanted to be buried anyway–I always wanted to be cremated–but I did envision some kind of small ceremony where my loved ones could gather and celebrate my life…..something where the remains of my body would at least be present in close proximity to the people dearest to me.  But that obviously isn’t going to happen now……..”

“Y’know, I used to smirk at people who invested all their faith in the belief there was one omnipotent God, Buzz.  I thought they were dimwitted imbeciles who were too lazy to think for themselves.”

Armstrong paused for a moment then to re-order his thoughts.

“Not so much now, though.  You asked me earlier if I believed in the existence of a God, Buzz.  I guess I can offer no concrete proof to refute the possibility that there is a God…….”

“I know exactly what you mean, Neil.  Yeah, yeah, y’know I’ve always been a practicing Christian going through all the standard motions and all that other ritualistic bullshit the religious “leaders” preach like going to church every week and eating “bread” for Holy Communion and throwing money in the collection plates they pass around like they’re some sort of band of homeless vagabonds, but before today my personal relationship with God was an issue I never strongly considered or cared much about.  But now–sitting here on the surface of the moon waiting to die–it has suddenly become THE most important question I’ll ever face……”

“You’re absolutely right, Buzz.  For where there exists a God…….there also exists the possibility of eternal life and eternal redemption…….”

“Damned right those possibilities exist!!  Who knows–maybe they’re even PROBABILITIES!!! 

Neil……..Neil, let’s join hands and pray together.  Are you familiar with ‘The Lord’s Prayer’?”

Armstrong demurred a split second for introspection, but then nodded tentatively as he reached out both of his flesh-and-blood paws to his crewmate.

The two world-renowned astronauts next joined hands and gazed solemnly up at the ceiling of their diminutive space capsule as they began praying.

“Our Father, who art in Heaven, hallowed be thy name…….”

Back on Earth, millions more–no, billions more people–joined in the same prayer during that same seminal instant…….

 

 

“Whatta ya make of that fuckin’ Nixon?  We’re sitting here stranded on the face of the moon and he’s back home making dramatic speeches like he’s fuckin’ Abe Lincoln or somethin’.  Talk about rubbing salt in our wounds!  I never did like that sneaky son-of-a-bitch!!!  I don’t know what on Earth I was thinking last fall when I actually cast my vote for the crooked, long-nosed bastard……”

Aldrin:  “Don’t beat yourself up too badly, Neil.  Look who the only other option was:  That fuckin’ walking windbag, alias Hubert Horatio Humphrey!  No, every politician in Washington, DC is cut from the exact same cloth–just six of one and a half dozen of the other.  You mean to tell me you don’t think Humphrey wouldn’t have his ugly mug on national television, yapping just as much Nixon just did and exploiting our misfortune for personal gain if he was the individual running the big show right now?” 

Aldrin stopped talking for a split second to grin like a shyster.

“You and I both know the correct answer to that one, Neil!!!”

“Yeah, I suppose you’re right, Buzz.  It still doesn’t make it any easier to listen to, though…….

 I wish they’d all just shut the fuck up and allow us die in peace up here.  It’s hard enough–sitting  all by ourselves waiting for the grand executioner to finally flip the switch on our lives, without those glory hounds making such a big goddamned spectacle of it back on Earth just for their own self-aggrandizement.”

“Yeah, I know, I know……..but for Christ’s sake, that’s just human nature, Neil!  Why let someone else take the credit for something–however morbid it might be–if you can hog some of the glory for yourself?  I never did like politicians, Neil.  Never have.  The cocksuckers are only in it for themselves, couldn’t give a fuck about anyone else.  They’ve always been that way, and—much like the moon here–that’s one thing that’ll never change……

Y’know…….this useless, boulder-strewn shithole we’re sitting smack-dab in the middle of would actually be an ideal place to dump all of those lying, slimy bastards.” 

Aldrin quit speaking momentarily and motioned at the sepulchral, barren landscape surrounding their tiny capsule in every direction one looked. 

“Load ‘em all into a giant space capsule and then ship them to the moon on a one way ticket with enough food to last a week.  Get ‘em away from Earth where all they’re good for is fucking things up and starting wars and raising taxes and pointing fingers and creating untold mischief.”

Armstrong:  “And here I thought I was the one being cynical!!

Settle down, Buzz!! 

We’ve only got a few hours of oxygen left in our tanks; don’t waste it on hyperventilating over those worthless, motherfuckin’, phony speech-givers back home on Earth!  Think of positive things like your family and friends and the slew of things you were able to accomplish while you were alive.  Life has always been ineffably precious, of course, but never more so than these next six hours that we have left of it here on the moon.  So I implore you, Buzz:  Don’t waste even a second more worrying about scumbag politicians, for Christ’s sake!!!”

“Yeah, yeah….……I suppose you’re right, Neil, as usual.  That’s good advice!  Nothing worth getting all hot and bothered and totally worked up about.  Just think about all the good things that have happened in my life; that’s what I’ll do with the limited time I have left……..”

And with that final proclamation celebrating sanguinity, both astronauts fell silent and stared off into empty space—seemingly mesmerized……..

                         

 

President Nixon had been finished speaking now for approximately fifteen minutes.  The two American astronaut heroes had been sitting in stone silence since then.

Until…….

“Neil?  Neil…….do you think we’re alone up here?” 

The voice was somewhat plaintive.

Armstrong looked startled. 

“Of course we’re alone, Buzz.”

He stared for a second at his trusted compatriot. 

“What the hell are you getting at anyway?”

There was a hint of tremor in Aldrin’s voice when he spoke next. 

“Neil…….Neil…….it just feels like we’re being watched by something.  I don’t know what it is exactly, but I feel this big pair of eyes staring down at me…….”

Armstrong studied his lunar partner for five long seconds. 

“There’s nothing else up here with us, Buzz.  Nothing at all!!  Just you and me, Bud.  Just the two of us.  So stop worrying about this other nonsense.  That kind of hallucinating isn’t going to help matters at all.”

“I know, Neil, I know that.  But I just can’t stop thinking something else is up here with us…….and that it’s staring at us this very instant!  Can’t you feel it too, Neil? 

Well…..can’t you?!?!” 

There was an unmistakable element of terror–albeit tiny–in the lunar module pilot’s voice now.

Armstrong gritted his teeth and pursuantly rolled his eyes, although said was an involuntary gesture and he was wholly unaware that he even did it. 

“Stop talking crazy like this, Buzz!!  We’re sitting on the surface of the moon, for God’s sake!!!  The moon is a lifeless celestial body and has been for time immemorial!  We both know that!!!  Now let’s just stop talking this garbled nonsense and focus on what’s really important to us…..and let’s begin right now!

 Agreed?!?!?!”

“And what might that be, Neil, pray tell?  Just sitting here and slowly dying?  Is that the “important” matter you’re referring to?” 

Aldrin’s tone was not frankly sarcastic, although his message certainly came across that way.

Armstrong didn’t respond directly to the not-so-subtle jab.  He sat staring straight ahead, oblivious to the non-stop chatter coming from his left.  Yet his brain was still busily functioning and assessing the situation with an engineer’s acuity:  What if this fuckin’ kook Aldrin is going crazy on me up here on the moon?  Wouldn’t this just be a fuckin’ fantastic way to exit the mortal world?  With an insane idiot prattling away just two feet to my right with no way of getting rid of him??

“Neil…….do you think we should go outside and look around a little?  There’s something evil lurking out there—I know that now!!!  And maybe if we quietly sneak outside……..we can get the drop on it before it even knows what is happening!  Whatta ya think of my plan, Neil?!  Are you with me or not?!  Huh???  Well….ARE YOU?!?!?!”

JESUS CHRIST ALMIGHTY!!!!! 

Armstrong:  Is this surreal bullshit really happening to me……or am I just dreaming the whole thing up analogous to an end-of-life hallucination?!   

Storied astronaut and worldwide hero Neil Armstrong was befuddled and at a wholesale loss for words.  His background was in engineering–he had one of the most astute intellectual minds on the face of planet Earth–but he wasn’t on the face of the earth anymore, and his background in mental illness was decidedly nil.

Hence…. 

“Just shut the fuck up, Buzz!!!!!  I don’t wanna listen to your insane bullshit anymore!”

Aldrin’s eyes were glazed over by this juncture.  He turned and looked at Armstrong suspiciously, but didn’t say anything.  Yet he could subconsciously feel his hands furtively balling up into tight fists ready to strike out at a moment’s notice.

“Neil??? 

Did we…….did we bring any guns along with us up here to the moon?”

“Guns……???

GUNS?!?! 

Of course not!!! 

Why the hell would we need guns up here, Buzz?!”

He turned again and stared straight at Aldrin, this time more carefully than before.  

“Are you okay?  Are you sure you’re feeling your usual self, Buzz?”

Aldrin’s eyes were ablaze and his gaze was trained somewhere way off in the Mephistophelian distance.  He hesitated for a moment before replying. 

“Self-defense, Neal.  For self-defense, goddamned it all!  That much should be obvious!!  Can’t you feel it too?!  There’s something outside this lunar module waiting for us; I just know it!! 

And this thing is malevolent and it means to harm us–No question about that!!–I can feel it in my gut!!!” 

He peered frantically around the inside of the dimly-lit, Lilliputian space capsule. 

“Where do you think NASA might have stowed those guns for us, Neil?”

Armstrong was aghast. 

Of all the things in the world!!! 

He had only a few hours left in which to live–priceless time he wished to spend meditating with his Creator…….and now THIS!!!!!

Nonetheless, he instinctively recognized the delicacy of the situation facing him and his voice was therefore gentle and soothing. 

“Buzz, we don’t have any guns along on this expedition–I’m not lying to you about that.  But you have to settle down some, my friend!  You’re using up precious oxygen that we’ll badly need later on.  Just try to take a deep breath and relaxxxxxxxxx…….”

“Later on????? 

LATER ON?!?!?!?!” 

Aldrin was shrieking like a psychotic banshee now.

“What the fuck do we need more oxygen later on for, Neil?!  We’re stranded on the surface of the moon, for Christ’s sake!!!!  Haven’t you noticed by now?!?!  We’re both gonna die in a few hours anyway regardless of our oxygen consumption……..provided THEY don’t get us first!!!” 

He gesticulated wildly toward the escape hatch on the underside of the lunar capsule.

Armstrong’s patience finally ran out.  His face turned scarlet and he was livid.

“SHUT UP, BUZZ!!!!!!  JUST SHUT THE FUCK UP, DO YOU HEAR ME!!!!!!!  STICK A SOCK IN IT!!!!!!!!!!”

He paused for a split second to catch his breath.

“Y’know, I have more than enough to worry about up here without having to put up with some raving lunatic sitting right next to me fixated on alien monsters!!!!!  If you’re so goddamned concerned about  hideous creatures hanging out behind our lunar module, why don’t you just go outside and confront them face-to-face, Buzzy Boy?!?!”

Armstrong abruptly stopped talking then; he realized that he had gone too far, said too much.

An awkward silence blanketed the quiescence inside the tiny capsule for the next five minutes.  Aldrin eventually spoke up in a voice scarcely loud enough to be heard.

“Raving lunatic, huh?  A raving lunar lunatic.  I like that, Neil; it’s a cute play on words!  Here we sit hopelessly stranded on the face of the moon, so I guess that does inarguably make me a lunatic.  I had never thought of it in that manner before you described it in such poetic terms..……

And I probably have been raving over the last half hour; you’re doubtless right about that as well, just like you are about everything, Neil…..

 The second man to walk on the surface of the moon henceforth shook his head back and forth not unlike the pendulum on a grandfather clock, even as he repeated the same phrase over and over. 

“A raving lunar lunatic… 

A raving lunar lunatic……

A raving lunar lunatic……….  I like that, Neil, I really do!!! 

You’re dead-on with your description, as usual. 

A raving lunar lunatic……… 

A raving lunar lunatic I am, I am, I am!!!  That’s me, alright!  A raving lunar lunatic, that’s me, that’s me, that’s me!!!!!

A raving lunar lunatic…………..”

“Buzz, I didn’t mean it quite like that.  I just lost my temper for a second there, and I apologize for doing so and for using some hurtful words.  What I meant is that we have to try to stay calm and collected if we have any hope of making the best of this situation.” 

The tone of the mission commander’s voice was cloyingly sympathetic.

“A raving lunar lunatic……..”

“Buzz, I’m truly sorry!  I really didn’t mean you were a lunatic.  I just meant you were saying things that were a bit irrational……”

“A raving lunar lunatic………….”

“Buzz…….?????”

Armstrong never saw the fist coming.  It smacked into the side of his face before he had time to mount any sort of defense.  The tightly clenched hand stunned him too, toppling him over backwards onto the floor of the dingy cavity.  And before America’s newest demigod had time to regain his faculties and respond to the sucker punch, Aldrin was on top of him, pummeling his face repeatedly with powerful left jabs.

Armstrong fought back hard, struggled valiantly to protect himself against the vicious onslaught, but the force of the blows connecting with his face somehow seemed superhuman and otherworldly and totally disproportionate to the ordinary size of his assailant.

And as our ultimate hero Neil Armstrong gradually surrendered consciousness, the final two remembrances of his long tenure on Earth–the moon rather–were of a fiendishly grinning, deranged face hovering directly over his upper body, this forever linked with the oft-repeated mantra, “A raving lunar lunatic…….”

It wasn’t until many years later–many decades, in fact–that terrestrial investigators finally returned to the historic site where men first set foot on the surface of the moon.  No one knew of course the precise circumstances surrounding their unwitnessed deaths back in 1969, so global anticipation informing the historic recovery mission was unparalleled.  The general consensus was that the two space pioneers must have died peacefully within their lunar module, perhaps leaving behind a farewell note detailing their final thoughts before departing triumphantly into the ethereal world.

What those investigators found instead was ghoulish and breathtakingly unexpected.  The grotesquely bloodied body of superhero Neil Armstrong was found dumped immediately beneath the lunar module, apparently severely beaten to death.

And to add further spice to the mystery, his co-pilot–highly decorated astronaut Buzz Aldrin–was found half a mile away from the spacecraft, lying prostrate in the dusty lunar soil, his terror-stricken face splashed with random splotches of blood, aggressively clutching the sharp and stripped-down mission flagpole–which the trailblazing crew had brought along with them from the United States—little differently than a Neanderthal hunter would grip a primitive spear……

 

 

Nixon had been done speaking for at least ten minutes.  Our two larger-than-life astronauts sat alone in the dinky lunar module, not speaking.  In time, Neil Armstrong broke the solemn silence.

“So what d’ya think, Buzz?  We only have a few hours left to live.  How do you propose we should spend them?”

His expression was unrevealing.

“I really don’t know, Neil.  I guess I haven’t thought about that subject too much.  Pray for eternal redemption, maybe?”

Armstrong’s expression remained implacable and unrevealing.

“I had something else in mind besides that, Buzz.”

A cryptic smile began forming along the edges of his face.

“Oh, really!  And what would that be, Neil?” 

Aldrin glanced with only passing interest over at humankind’s most famous individual while he intertwined the fingers on both of his hands and began elevating his gaze heavenward.

                Armstrong was slow to speak this time, as though hunting for just the right words to say. 

“Buzz……you know I like you as a person, and I think you’re a helluva astronaut as well, and I really admire all the work you’ve done in preparation for this mission……..”

He stopped talking for a second, allowing just enough time for an awkward silence to form.  

“……..and I also think you’re pretty darned cute!!”

                “WHAT???  CUTE?!?!? 

Where the hell did that come from, Neil?! 

I’m sitting here waiting to die in the next few hours, and you’re telling me I’m cute?!” 

Aldrin’s countenance described mystified astonishment.

                “WHOAAAA!!!! 

Settle down, Buzz!!! 

I was just making an innocent, connaturally neutral statement; I didn’t mean anything personal by it.”

The first man to walk on the moon paused for a second before an unmistakable leer slowly crept across his face. 

“But if you DID choose to take it as a compliment…..”

                Buzz Aldrin stared directly at his more celebrated colleague.

And he continued staring intently for the next ten seconds too, until the fortress guarding his facial features began breaking down irreparably.  When next he spoke, Aldrin’s tone was unmistakably softer and more conciliatory than before.  

“What……what……what exactly did you have in mind for us, Neil……??”

                Armstrong gushered a huge sigh of relief.  This time when he opened his mouth, the words that shot forth from it were straightforward and unrestrained.

                “I’ve always been physically attracted to you, Buzz.  I’m truly amazed that natural chemistry should come as any sort of a surprise to you by now!  And I’m not one bit ashamed to admit this fact as well:  I’ve lain awake many a night dreaming about what it would be like making love to you and your tight, masculine body.

Well…….….what better time than now?!? 

We only have a couple of hours left to live, plus with the mikes and cameras turned off in this dark little shithole—well, we have complete privacy and license up here on the moon to do WHATEVER our little hearts desire!”

The mythical hero was grinning ear-to-ear like a shit-eating dog as he finished speaking, and his leer was even more pronounced than before. 

“Whatta y’say we give it a go, Buzz?!  Are ya up for it, my friend?!?!?!”

                Aldrin continued to look astonished over the unexpected direction of this conversation, yet the contours of his face had by now become soft and supple.  And when he opened his mouth to speak, the tone of his voice was undeniably conciliatory…..even flirtatious.

                “I’ve always admired you a lot too, Neil, and I’d be lying if I didn’t confess that I’ve found you physically attractive at times also.  Trim and handsome, absurdly intelligent, poised beyond reason, brooding and mysterious……yeah, there’s definitely a lot for a man to like there, Commander Armstrong!” 

The second-in-charge stopped talking for a moment and stared his superior straight in the eye. 

“So let’s do it then, Neil, ya horny ol’ rascal!  Let’s take this professional relationship of ours up several rungs to the next level of friendship!!!!!”

                And at that precise moment in time, Neil Armstrong looked just like a little boy who had been dropped unexpectedly into the middle of a ginormous candy store.  His next volley of words was loud and spontaneous, ironic—How very ironic!!–for an individual who prided himself on advance preparation for every teensy aspect of his life, including the ideograms he chose to communicate with. 

“ALL RIGHT THEN!!!! 

That’s the answer I was hoping to hear from you, Buzzy Sweet Britches!!!  Why don’t you just drop those bulky trousers down to your ankles and back that beautiful tight ass right up next to me here!!!”

The first man on the moon—remember, too, he was a happily married husband and a doting father of three–was busily unhitching his cumbersome belt as he spoke.

                Back on Earth–down in Houston, Texas, The United States of America–Mission Control personnel were understandably morose stemming from the awful, unforeseen turn of events; the men sat silently and impassively at their desks as they smoked cigarette after cigarette, while many of the women wept uncontrollably in muffled sobs. 

But in the backs of all their minds—way back there where facts are only ghostly apparitions and imaginations are allowed to run wild–the same question barged to the forefront, demanding conjecture on their part in the absence of an outright definitive answer:  How are our two superhuman lunar heroes spending their last few hours of mortality?

 

 

                As President Nixon spoke to the American people in conjunction with the rest of the world, our two supercilious heroes sat inside their darkened lunar module and listened impassively.  Both of their expressions were implacable and their body language was likewise unrevealing, and neither spoke as Nixon finished his emotional soliloquy.  In the immediate aftermath following the final syllable which emanated from the chief executive’s mouth, the quiescence within the bantam-sized capsule resting forlornly in the far-off Sea of Tranquility was overwhelming.

The two astronauts sat just like that—completely speechless and motionless–for the next ten minutes.  The only light within their picayune life-raft came from a few dozen stars sprinkled overhead, along with a cloister of lonesome rays originating from the glimmering Earth that was bashfully peeking into their solitary window from a quarter of a million miles away.

Armstrong finally spoke up.

“Well…….I guess this is it then, Buzz………”

Aldrin looked him squarely in the eye.

“Yes, I guess it is, Neil……”

The two stoic former fighter pilots stared at each other balefully for the next thirty seconds.  And……and was that the hint of a tear welling up in both of their eyes while they stared at one another, each contemplating their joint fate?

Armstrong moved to break the uncomfortable silence.

“It’s been a good ride, Buzz.”

He extended his right hand in Aldrin’s direction, even as he attempted a smile that nearly cracked his somber face in half.

“A damned good ride it’s been, but now I guess it’s all over for us……”

There could be no mistaking anymore; those were tears in Buzz Aldrin’s eyes.

“It’s been all my pleasure, Neil.”

He gratefully accepted Armstrong’s outstretched hand.

“I couldn’t have asked for any more in a crewmate…….or from a life spent on Earth, for that matter…….”

The second-in-command bit down hard on his lower lip before those aforementioned tears had an opportunity to claim victory over his ambivalent expression.

“Y’know, we did it, my friend.  We actually made it to the moon!!!  That was always my dream ever since I was a little boy..….and how many people actually get to live out their dreams for real?  Not very many, I would venture to guess…….”

He stopped talking briefly and bit down even harder on his tortured lip.

“Godspeed to you, Neil Armstrong!!  I guess our work here on Earth……errrrr, for the Earth rather–is now complete…….”

Armstrong smothered his crewmate in a massive bear hug.

“It’s been a real pleasure, Buzz.  You were the best lunar module pilot a crew chief could ever have asked for…….”

Neil Armstrong finally, and somewhat reluctantly, released the embrace he held on his close friend and stepped back a half-step.

“Now I don’t know about you, Cowboy, but I don’t plan on just sitting here inside this little prison cell waiting for death to come find me.  I plan on going out like a true astronaut with my boots on and with the earth shining like a beacon in the distance!!”

And with that, the first man to walk on the moon donned his cumbersome helmet, opened the escape hatch to the lunar module, and began descending down its small ladder to the moon’s dusty surface below……

[1] Original speech composed by William Safire in July of 1969 for President Nixon to deliver to the nation in the event the first two American astronauts to walk on the moon were somehow unable to return to Earth.