Harold had opened the ship up a little more, and according to him, they
were now moving eighteen thousand miles per hour or so, approximately.
Orville had tried to drink some water from a milk bottle, but the sight
of the water, bouncing in rhythm to the invisible circles in his
stomach, had given him nausea.
Harold knelt on the floor, smoothing out a soiled sheet of paper. In the
center was a small circle, labeled in Harold's sloppy handwriting
"Earth." An arrow showed the direction of the Earth's motion around the
Sun. Outside this was a larger circle labeled "Orbit of Moon." A spiral
reached out from the Earth to intersect the Moon's orbit.
"Had the darnedest time drawing this," Harold said. "Got it out of an
astronomy book. _Let's Look at the Stars_ by someone. Thirty-five cents.
Let's see now."
He wet the point of the pencil and made a mark. He scratched his head
and erased the mark and made another.
"Harold, another thing," said Orville. "I weigh around one ninety-five.
Won't that take a lot of extra gas?"
"Nope. Doesn't matter if you weigh a ton. According to my counter-grav
principle--"
"Won't it get stuffy in here with two of us?"
"Why, I have some oxygen. That welding place in back of the garage where
I work--got a tank off them. Had to pay cash, but I can turn in the
empty when we get back."
"You sure one tank'll be enough?"
[Illustration]
"Well--" Harold flushed guiltily. "You won't say anything about this? I
took along several extra tanks, just to make sure. I wasn't stealing.
You see, I figure I might make some money out of this thing."
"Say!" Orville hadn't thought of this angle before. "You really could."
"And there should be plenty of food. Let me see now." He fished in his
pocket and brought out a piece of brown wrapping paper. "I'll run over
the list and make sure I didn't forget something." He glanced up
sharply. "Relax! Make yourself to home. And the little boy's room is
down there." He squinted at the paper. "Water. There's plenty. Six
family-size cans pork and beans. Charged 'em." He ran through the list,
mumbling, then looked up brightly. "Yep. Looks all right. Nope, there's
one thing I forgot. Stickum plaster! Doggone. Never go anywhere without
my first aid kit. Never know what's liable to happen."
"Y'know, Harold," Orville said, "I'm beginning to see some possibilities
in this trip. First man on the Moon. Think of the fuss they made over
Lindy and Wrong-way Corrigan. The guys who climbed Mount Everest. Why,
that was nothing!"
"Course, I'm not doing this for fame. Or money, either."
"Then why are you doing it?"
Harold stared vaguely toward where the Moon would be if they could see
it. "I guess ... because it's there."
"Huh! Well, don't forget I'm in on it, too."
* * * * *
Some time later, when the Moon first appeared on the scope, about the
size of a basketball, Harold indulged in a mild spree. He opened some
pineapple juice. Orville did not feel like drinking any. In fact, he
felt ill.
"Space sickness," Harold said. "Lot of bread is good for that. Stuff
yourself with it. Just think--back there on Earth, they're going about
their business and no one knows that we're out here heading for the
Moon. Just think--if I'd call them on the radio and report making first
contact with the Moon--"
"Harold, one thing. How're you going to get her down?"
"Naval observatory would be the people to call, I guess. They'd notify
the President and they'd interrupt the TV programs--I thought of putting
a radio in here, but I'd already gone way over my budget."
"How do you plan to land her?"
"And wouldn't those guys at the Atomic Energy Commission have red faces!
You know, I wrote them, asking to use some of their energy and--darn
these government bureaus!--they never even had the courtesy to answer my
letter!"
"Listen--"
"And the birds at the college! When I took that navigation chart to the
astronomy department to see if they'd check it for me, they blew up!
Acted like I had no business flying to the Moon. Acted like they owned
the thing. Bunch of smart-alecs! With their double-talk! Knew less than
I did when I went there."
He looked at his watch. "I'm going to have a snack and then I'll get
some sleep. That's one good thing about having you along. Now I can
sleep and not have to worry."
As Harold sawed at the top of a can of beans with the can-opener.
Orville closed his eyes. Instantly, he saw the ship, heading for the
Moon, and then there was a blinding flash. He opened his eyes. Harold
was digging into the can with a spoon, munching away.
"Just brought one." Harold waved the spoon. "But I'm not poison. Better
have some of these beans. They'll stick to your ribs."
Orville crawled to the door leading to the other compartment, flung it
open and leaned there a while. He sat up, rubbing his eyes. Harold was
wiping the spoon on a piece of brown paper.
"Last call!" Harold giggled and pushed the can to Orville. Orville
pushed it away and closed his eyes and sat, holding his middle. When he
opened them, Harold was sleeping.
Orville crawled over and shook him. "How soon do you want me to wake you
up?"
Harold sat up. "Oh, my gosh! I forgot! Why, don't let me sleep more than
four hours."
* * * * *
He went to sleep again. Orville sat back. He could see it. Harold,
watching the Moon grow bigger and bigger on that scope, until they were
right on it, then turning with a surprised look: Oh, my gosh! I forgot
something! Then he'd give that giggle and there'd be that crash....
Orville's watch said two hours, but he wasn't sure. Maybe he'd slept and
the hand had gone clear around. He kept seeing that flash. Some amateur
astronomer, looking at the Moon right then, might see it. He'd be a
bungler, like Harold, and it wouldn't be much of a telescope. He was
always seeing flashes in the thing, from cars or lightning bugs or from
the kitchen door, because his wife was there yelling at him, just like
Rosie yelling at Harold. For they always married women like Rosie, or
they made women turn that way. Polly, now, she nagged all the time, but
that was different!
Orville drank some water and ate some bread, and when he swallowed, he
felt that circular bump-bump grab the bread and chop away at it, just
like Polly feeding stale bread into the meat chopper to make stuffing.