The Great Perhaps (24 page)
“Well, sure. I get it. You need any help with what you’re working on?” Henry asks.
“Nope.”
“Well, if you do, all you have to do is ask.”
“Okay.”
“Jonathan?”
“Yes?”
“Never mind, kiddo. You just do your schoolwork.”
“Okay.”
Henry watches his son for another moment or two and then whispers:
“Do you understand why I had to quit my job?”
“Dad?” His son’s face is small and confused.
“Do you know why I haven’t gone to work in so long?”
Jonathan shakes his head, embarrassed for some reason, and looks down at his schoolwork. “No. I guess not.”
“It’s only that sometimes…sometimes it takes courage to do something, and other times it takes courage to not do something. Does that make sense to you?”
Jonathan nods, still unsure, wanting to please his dad. His father reads this in the boy’s bright eyes.
“You’re a good boy. You know that, don’t you?”
Jonathan, his face red from hearing his father’s words, does not turn. He only shrugs, staring down at his schoolwork.
“You’re the best thing I ever did,” Henry whispers. “The best,” and then, feeling the boy’s embarrassment, he nods and stares off at whatever’s playing on the television.
O
NE EVENING,
after a particularly good episode of
Batman
, feeling unusually happy—the televised image of the burning village only a distant, foggy dream—Henry hurries out to the garage, his son secretly following. Jonathan, hiding at the edge of his father’s yellow Cougar, sees his father struggling to pull down a large cardboard box from a high shelf, marked with a great painted X. Jonathan blinks, watching as his dad tears open the taped cardboard flaps, fumbling through its contents, some old magazines, a few record albums, some photographs, a fraying black suit.
“This was a suit your grandfather made,” Henry says. “It doesn’t look like much but it’s all I’ve got left of him.”
Jonathan nods silently. From within the suit jacket’s lining, a brown spider emerges, narrowly escaping. Henry and his son watch the tiny creature hurry off, disappearing into the shadows of the gloomy garage. Henry’s eyes do not leave the spider, not for a long time, and then, with a thoughtful turn in his eyes, he looks down at his son and murmurs, “Jonathan?”
“Yeah?”
“I hope you forgive me someday.”
The boy’s face goes white, as he’s unsure of how to respond.
“For what, Dad?”
“For what? For quitting my job. For leaving us in the lurch. For being a coward. Will you forgive me someday?”
“Oh.” Then, without thinking, the boy mutters, “Sure, Dad.”
“We always have to try to forgive the people we love. I think it’s the bravest thing we can do. When the time comes, I hope you will.”
Jonathan is silent for a few moments and then whispers, “Okay, Dad.”
“Okay,” says Henry, smiling. He begins to rummage through the box again and seems to find what he’s looking for.
“What’s that?” Jonathan asks.
“Comic books.”
“Wow,” Jonathan whispers, astonished. On the covers are spacemen, werewolves, superheroes, some he recognizes, like
Superman
and
Batman
, some he doesn’t,
The Airship Brigade, The Flash, The Green Lantern, Hourman
. They are struck in valiant, noble poses, fighting it out with cruel-looking villains, performing incredible feats of strength.
“
The Airship Brigade
,” Henry mutters, handing an issue to his son. “Now this one was always my favorite.” He taps the cover twice, then goes on searching through his childhood belongings. Jonathan flips through the miraculous stories, Alexander Lightning piloting his zeppelin bravely through the sky, rescuing a silver-skinned princess. Henry lets out a low whistle and lifts something from the box. It is a tattered record album, red and black and yellow, a great golden zeppelin crossing a silver moon. Henry is grinning, staring down at it, elbowing his son lightly.
“What do you think of this?” he asks, but Jonathan just shrugs.
“It looks okay.”
“Okay? Do you know what this is?” His father turns the record sleeve over and taps it with his forefinger twice. “It’s a V-Disc. From during the war.”
“Oh.”
“It was a radio program from when I was a kid. I used to listen to it all the time.”
“Oh.”
“They used to play the stories on the radio. They’d record it on records, you know, some of their best adventures. That’s what we got here:
Mysterious Islands in the Sky
.”
“That’s cool.”
“Cool? Kiddo, you don’t know what you’re missing. Come on, let’s go check it out. Grab those other records there. Good. Okay, let’s go.”
Jonathan, holding the comic books and records to his small chest, looks up, and for the first time since he can remember, he notices his father is beaming.
F
ATHER AND SON
are sitting in the front parlor beside the outdated Sears stereo. The needle makes contact with the rough grooves of the old record and instantly produces a sound. It is like a magnificent storm has suddenly swept itself into the room, lightning and wind echoing from the hi-fi’s speakers. Then there is the theme music, horns and strings announcing, “
The Continuing Adventures of Alexander Lightning, teen commander of the undefeatable Airship Brigade!
” A thunderbolt hisses with fiery electricity through the speakers. “
Episode One Hundred:
Mysterious Islands in the Sky,” the announcer Pierre Andre shouts with flair and dramatic promise. Jonathan smiles at his father, who winks, turning the treble down on the hi-fi, then hurrying back to his seat.
ANNOUNCER:
WGN Chicago and the Pennsylvania Coal Company are proud to bring you the continuing adventures of the Airship Brigade. Pennsylvania Coal Company, the one with the blue flame. Episode One Hundred:
Mysterious Islands in the Sky.
Young Alexander Lightning, teenage boy and supreme commander of the Airship Brigade, has found himself captured, along with his closest companions—his best friend, Hugo, Tor the Man-Ape, the intelligent Doctor Jupiter, and his darling daughter Darla—all held hostage on the strange floating cloud city of Xenon. Their miraculous airship, the X-1, has suffered incredible damage, seemingly beyond repair. Young Alexander, terrified for his life, finds himself trapped, his wrists harshly bound, as he is forced to face the Evil Cloud Emperor’s unimaginable wrath.EMPEROR:
Your puny world has caused me turmoil for much too long. After I am done disposing of you, Alexander Lightning, I will turn my Inviso-ray machine on your helpless planet.ALEXANDER:
As soon as I get myself free, you’ll pay for what you’ve done. Earth will never fall victim to your cruel plans.EMPEROR:
Brave words, Alexander Lightning. Without you to protect it, your world will soon be decimated. For one precise blast from my Inviso-ray will leave your planet in absolute panic, rendering all things on your puny earth completely invisible. Chaos will reign supreme, and soon, with my cloud army, I will easily conquer what remains, plundering what I please.ALEXANDER:
Do what you must with me, but leave our planet alone!EMPEROR:
Kidnapped scientists of earth, prepare the Inviso-ray.SCIENTISTS:
Yes, Emperor Xenon. We will do as you command.ALEXANDER:
Why do those scientists obey your commands?EMPEROR:
It is mind control, dear boy. Using this telepathic helmet, I can command anyone I wish to do my bidding.DARLA:
Do you really think he has the power of mind control, Father?DOCTOR JUPITER:
It’s possible, my dear. You saw how easy his cloud-army did away with our airship using their powerful ray cannons. I’m afraid their technology is much more advanced than ours.TOR:
Tor frightened. Tor no want to see jungle destroyed.ALEXANDER:
Mind control or not, friends, Tor is right. We can’t let the emperor go through with his evil scheme. I think I have a plan.EMPEROR:
Guards! Escort our prisoners to the Coliseum of the Unfathomable.GUARD:
Yes, Your Majesty.EMPEROR:
Now you will see what we do with uninvited guests, my dear boy.HUGO:
Where do you think they’re taking us, Alexander?ALEXANDER:
I’m not sure. I don’t think it’s for ice-cream sundaes. Look, they’re bringing us into a coliseum.
(The roar of an angry crowd erupts from the record.)
DARLA:
Yes, look, look at all of the people. Who are they?DOCTOR JUPITER:
I’m afraid they’re not here to cheer us on, my dear.HUGO:
This is all my fault. If I hadn’t been trying that stunt with the X-1…ALEXANDER:
Nobody blames you for what happened, Hugo. It was an honest mistake. Who knew what was going to happen when we followed that mysterious air current?DOCTOR JUPITER:
It now seems it was just a trap to bring us here all along.
(A terrible shriek echoes from the distance.)
DARLA:
Gosh, Alexander, what was that?ALEXANDER:
I don’t know. We mustn’t be afraid. We’ve faced worse before, I’m sure of it.DOCTOR JUPITER:
Yes. Just remember the Enchanted Sands of the Mad Sultan.DARLA:
And the Blind Bandits of the Himalayas.ALEXANDER:
And the Air Pirates of Monrovia.EMPEROR:
Prepare the Unfathomable!ALEXANDER:
That doesn’t sound very encouraging. Doctor Jupiter. Do you have any ideas?DOCTOR JUPITER:
I’m afraid not, Alexander.ALEXANDER:
Tor, do you think you can free yourself from these terrible cloud manacles?TOR:
Tor not think so. Too strong for Tor.ALEXANDER:
Well, if we can’t use our brains, and we can’t use our brawn, all we have left is our bravery.DARLA:
What are you going to do, Alexander?ALEXANDER:
Just use a little earth gumption, that’s all. Tor, as soon as they open that monster’s cage, I want you to try and distract it. Doctor Jupiter and Darla, see if you can find a way out of here. Hugo and I will do our best to put a stop to that Inviso-ray machine.DOCTOR JUPITER:
I will do all I can, Alexander.ALEXANDER:
We’ll see how terrible this Unfathomable creature really is.
(The Unfathomable howls, drawing closer still, as a thematic swell of violins marks the end of the episode.)
ANNOUNCER:
Will Alexander Lightning face the Unfathomable and survive? Will the Evil Emperor of Cloud City complete his terrible scheme? Will the Airship Brigade free themselves and save the earth in time? Tune in tomorrow night for the exciting conclusion to
Mysterious Islands in the Sky.
Tomorrow’s episode brought to you by Ovaltine.
F
ATHER AND SON,
sitting on the sofa together. Father and son, listening to the needle slide through the final silent groove, skipping for a second, before the record arm abruptly retracts. The fifteen-minute episode is now over. Father and son with a secret between them, still imagining the world above, the mysterious islands in the sky, the Unfathomable. Jonathan leaps to his feet and flips the record over, replacing the arm, and, sitting there staring at the spinning shellac, both of them silent. They manage a kind of stillness, a dreamy quiet where their thoughts of their own individual futures—as clear as the voices from the radio program—beam as bright and undamaged as rays from any distant galaxy. Father and son listen to the radio show, listening to each other think.
“Dad, will people ever live on the moon?” the son asks.
“I think so,” the father says. “I’m quite sure of it. Would you like to go visit there one day?”
The boy nods, without having to think. “As long as I don’t have to go alone,” he says.
“No,” the father says. “One day, you and I’ll go. We’ll make a regular trip out of it. How does that sound?”
To Whom It May Concern,
There is no such thing as a Good War.
To Whom It May Concern,
You loved your son too much to tell him how much you loved him.
To Whom It May Concern,
You did not fly to the moon. It was a dream you were too afraid to ever pursue.