To the Moon and Back
Fueling our mission with peanuts
“Close all hatches,” I instructed. “Prepare for launch.” The crew settled in for what was sure to be a long journey into space.
“CAPCOM, we are prepared for liftoff,” I said, speaking into a makeshift microphone—the silver arm of a Victrola that had once held a stylus for playing records.
I looked over at my little sister, Jen. She was sitting, clutching our cat, Ronald, petting him more to calm herself than to help poor Ronald. Who knew if we’d have a successful voyage? After all, it was quite a long way to the moon.
We were perched in a long, knotty pine cupboard running across the top of my bedroom wall, reached by climbing a wooden ladder bolted inside the closet below.
The spaceship-cupboard was usually our cramped clubhouse, the Peanut Club, named for our favorite snack: Spanish peanuts.
“Liftoff in 5-4-3-2-1.” My voice rose higher as the numbers descended. Quickly, I reached down to flip the knobs on a disconnected single-burner hotplate we used for spaceship controls. The ship shuddered with the tremendous thrust of the booster rocket.
Jen pulled a blanket up over her shoulders, with Ronald in her lap.
Then all was silent as our craft rose slowly toward the horizon. Our spacecraft was windowless, so we could only imagine the vast darkness of space.
What surprised us was how quickly we reached the moon. I told my sister that when we landed I’d be climbing down the ladder to explore the lunar surface. Would she want to come along?
“No. I’m staying here with Ronald,” she said, holding the cat more tightly.
Gradually, I opened the cupboard door and inched my way down the ladder. As my left foot first touched the surface of the moon, I heard applause from the crew.
I assumed it was Jen.
Or was it Ronald, too?
The landscape was desolate and unwelcoming—a wide debris field, littered with pock marks and small boulders. With each step, my moon boots sank into the dusty soil. But time was running out, so I gathered a few small rock samples, preparing for departure.
“I’m coming back aboard,” I called up to the crew. Our brief lunar landing had been successful, that much was certain. Jen smiled as I handed her a souvenir moon rock—actually, an agate we found at the beach.
Soon after settling back at the controls, I did a quick scan of the cabin to make sure gear was stowed and our peanuts were secured.
I twisted the knobs, and we were soon flying back to Earth.
“OK, Jen,” I said. “Let’s have a snack before landing.” I handed her a cellophane bag of Spanish peanuts, with their thin, red skins.
“I’m done,” Jen said, munching her snack. “I want to go outside and play in the backyard.”
The cat yawned.
With a sigh, I told CAPCOM we were coming in for a landing. The mission was over.
Besides, it was almost time for Ronald’s dinner.
Coming tomorrow: A backyard bomb shelter. A garden-hose intercom. My little sister running Command Central from underground. We had a fun clubhouse during the Cold War with Russia.