Taking Off (6 page)

CHAPTER 12

A
re those deer?” I asked, seeing brown forms in among the trees.

Lea looked in the direction I was pointing. “Dad said there were deer out here. One night, when he was working late, he almost walked into one on a sidewalk close to his building.”

The employees’ recreational center was made up of baseball fields, a large grassy area with trees, a nice-sized pavilion, and one building with a gymnasium and locker rooms. People in sweats, some in shorts, were running alongside the road in front of the building.

“Armand Bayou Nature Center backs up to here,” Christa told us. “Joggers hit a dirt road right behind those trees,” she said, pointing. “The road borders the nature center.” She laughed. “But you probably already knew that.”

I shook my head. “I’ve never been on-site before. I mostly hang out on my side of the lake.”

Christa had to change, so she went into the locker room. Lea and I waited in the gymnasium, which looked just like any other gymnasium.

We sat on the floor, leaning against the wall, watching some of the engineers playing around with the volleyball. The net was already set up. One of the guys went up for a ball and spiked it over the net.

I was getting nervous.

“Mind if I join them?” asked Lea.

“No, go, go,” I said, waving her on.

She jumped up and walked over to the three guys warming up. “Hi, I’m Lea,” I heard her say. “Christa invited us.”

I smiled. Meeting new people was easy for Lea. I’d always wished some of it would rub off on me.

Lea started playing. She wasn’t as good as the guys, but she got in some good hits. Her serve was pretty decent too. She threw the ball up in the air and came down on it hard, most of the time getting it over the net on the first try.

Christa came out of the locker room. A group of three others—two women and a guy—walked through the door. They all called out to one another. It was obvious they’d known each other awhile, either through this volleyball league or through working together at the space center.

Christa came over to me. “Did you want to play, Annie?”

Other people walked up, throwing bags and purses on the sidelines. “You’ve got enough on your team. I’ll just watch.”

“We can rotate you in.”

“Maybe later.”

She smiled and went back out to the court. The game started.

Each team had extra players, so they rotated people into the game between points. Some of them were pretty good, some very good. A girl with frizzy brown hair couldn’t play well, but the others didn’t seem to mind—except for a guy with glasses. He fussed at her once for missing an easy shot. She just laughed. I figured out later they were dating.

Everyone was having fun, and no one more than Christa. She seemed to have a new surge of energy, leaping up to shoot the ball over the net. I realized she didn’t know very many of these people, but she was laughing, and congratulating them when they made a good play. Like Lea did.

I wondered what it must be like to be so comfortable in your own skin that you could just blend in seamlessly with others. Christa excelled at that. She was so natural and sure of herself. It must be so freeing: to be able to always be yourself. You wouldn’t have to hide anything away, out of fear that others might not like what they see.

I stood and leaned against the wall, watching.

Lea had been right about me. I hadn’t wanted to try out for the tennis team. I hadn’t wanted to mess up in front of anyone, so I didn’t even try—even though I loved tennis.

I went over to the two women sitting on a bench on the sidelines, talking and waiting for their turn. I sat by them.

“Hey,” one asked, “you’re Christa’s friend, right?”

I smiled, liking the sound of that. “Yeah.”

“Did you want to play?” she asked, gesturing to the court.

My heart was speeding up. “Yeah.”

“What’s your name?”

“Annie.”

The woman called out. “Hey, y’all, Annie wants to play. Put her in.”

“Annie!” yelled out Lea happily.

The guy with glasses ran out. “Take my place. I need a break.”

I walked out on the court. “Where do I stand, Lea?”

“Right here,” said Christa, pointing next to her in the back.

I moved to the spot, trying to remember how to play. I’d seen how the others hit, some of them going low, bumping the ball back up with a two-handed fist, others pushing the ball up with their open hands, setting it up for another player to spike over the net. I just wanted to get the ball over.

Standing here, though, waiting for the serve, I realized I just wanted the ball to go someplace else.

“This guy’s got a killer serve,” Christa told me. “Watch out for it.”

As the ball flew toward us, I realized I wasn’t going to get my wish: it was coming right for me. Reflexively, I raised my hands to hit it, and the ball smashed into my nose.

My hands went to my face. It
hurt
.

“Annie!” I heard Lea yell. She was right beside me.

I looked at my hand. No blood. Good. I tended to have nosebleeds. But it still really hurt. I pressed on my nose with both hands, wiggling it around gently. I didn’t think it was broken.

The other players crowded around me. A woman with long blond hair hit the server on the arm. “God! You didn’t have to give the girl a facial.”

“I didn’t mean to,” said the guy, leaning in to me. “Are you all right?”

I felt the heat rise in my face. The attention was freaking me out. “I’m okay.” Christa was looking at me with concern. I repeated, “I’m okay.”

All these eyes were on me. I was trying to figure out how to retreat to the sidelines without looking like a complete dork. “Are you sure you’re all right?” asked Lea, her hand gently touching my nose. “It’s red.” I just wanted her to go back to her spot and for everyone to stop staring at me.

“She’s okay,” said Christa, clapping her hands. “Get the ball, Annie? It’s behind you.” And with that, everyone went back to their positions, like Christa was the teacher and we were the students. I picked up the ball, and Christa pointed for me to throw it back to the server. “Thanks, Annie,” she said. “Let’s play.”

I missed every ball that came at me. Since Christa was beside me, I thought she might run in and take my balls so that the team wouldn’t lose the points, but she didn’t. Instead, she showed me how to position myself to take a lower ball and how to set the ball with my fingertips.

As we rotated around the court, I knew it was soon going to be my turn to serve. I couldn’t do it. I wouldn’t get a serve over the net. The serving line was too far back.

As I was waiting for the other team to serve, I wasn’t thinking about the ball coming over the net. I was thinking about how I was going to rotate myself out after the next point.

I looked up, and the serve was coming right at me again, and I swear I saw guilt on the server’s face. The ball was flying in hard and fast. I leaped up, stretching out my arms, and the ball bounced against them and went right back over the net. The other team was so surprised I’d returned it they watched the ball drop to the ground without moving.

“Nice shot!” Christa yelled, holding up her hands to me. I slapped them, elation shooting through me.

“Yes, Annie!” Lea yelled out, slapping my arm.

After that, I got the courage to serve. And missed both tries. But it didn’t matter much. I was still a little high from my score. I said I needed water and took a break.

On the sidelines, after having played, I was into the game, cheering “my” team on. I talked to the people being subbed in and out, who were all very friendly and having a good time. I knew I’d played lousy, but at least I’d played.

Christa came out of the game and sat down beside me. “Having fun?” she asked, wiping her face with a towel.

“I am, actually.” Then I realized what I’d said. “Not that I didn’t think I would.” I laughed. “Okay, I guess you’ve figured out I don’t know how to play volleyball.”

“It’s the fun of it, right?”

I nodded, looking back at her. “Why aren’t you exhausted, with all you do?”

“I
am
tired.” She held her hair up and fanned her neck. “But I’m having a blast. I don’t want to miss any of it.”

I was so in awe of her, I had to ask: “Where do you get your courage? Where does that come from?”

Her eyebrows went up. “To fly in space?”

“That, and just … to live your life the way you do.” I shrugged, feeling awkward, trying to find the words. “You know, being so … authentic, I guess.” I bit my lip.

She looked at me. “You don’t feel you’re authentic?”

“I don’t know.” But of course, I did know. “I feel different from other people, from my friends even.”

“There’s only one you, Annie. That’s what you have to offer.”

“Yeah,” I said, knowing she was right, but wondering why it was so hard for me to live that way.

“What do you enjoy, Annie? Is there something you’re curious about? Want to know more about?”

I took a breath. I suddenly felt the need to tell this woman I hardly knew my secret. There was something about her that made me trust her. “I like reading poetry and … writing it.” And just like that, my secret was out. I felt so relieved saying it out loud, like a big stack of thick poetry books was lifted off my chest.

And she didn’t laugh at me. “That’s wonderful, Annie.”

“I’m not sure if poetry is a very practical thing to study in college.” I couldn’t tell this very brave woman I was afraid of being a poet, fearful of leaving bits of my soul in the poems I wrote and letting people see what was inside of me. “But I could teach, and I’ve been thinking about that. You like teaching.”

“I love teaching. I’m a teacher. When I was in the classroom, I felt like I was doing exactly what I wanted to be doing.”

What a rush
, I thought,
to be able to do what you love every day
. “Will you go back to it? After all this.”

“Definitely.”

“I hope they show the launch on TV. I want to see it.”

What I really wanted was to
go
to the launch. It struck me as pathetically funny that Christa had made her dream of launching into space come true, and I couldn’t even get myself over to Florida to see it. Okay, there was Mom, school, and money. Still, as my grandma would say, where was my gumption?

“I’d like to hear from you, Annie. I don’t have a lot of extra time right now. You should see the stack of manuals they gave me to read!” She laughed. “But afterward, when things calm down, I’d like to talk to you more. Will you write to me?”

“I’d like that.”

We went back to watching the game. Lea stayed in, bouncing around the court, half bunny, half butterfly. By the end of the game, she was like a part of the team.

Afterward, Christa drove us to Lea’s car.

“Wait, Annie,” said Christa as I opened the door.

She took a piece of paper and pen out of her purse. “This is my address in Concord,” she said as she wrote. She handed the paper to me. “Write to me.”

I stared at the address, thrilled. She gave me a hug before I got out of the car. Lea came around to Christa’s side, and Christa squeezed her hand. “You write me too, Lea.”

“Good luck!” said Lea. “We’ll see you after your flight!”

We waved to her as she drove off.

“Lea, would you do something for me?” I asked.

“Anything,” she said.

“Your dad was talking about how you can request a car pass that’ll get you on-site at Kennedy Space Center to see a launch. Could he get me one?”

She grabbed my arm. “Are you going?” she asked excitedly.

“Once I convince my mom.”

CHAPTER 13

I
began to follow Christa’s journey in the newspapers, through reports from Lea’s parents, and on the TV news. I wished we could have another evening at the Taylors’, but I knew Christa didn’t have the time for that.

Christmas was in a few weeks. And after that, it wouldn’t be long before Christa and the rest of the crew would go off to Cape Canaveral, which used to be called Cape Kennedy. Cape Canaveral was actually the Air Force base and shuttles were launched from Kennedy Space Center right next door. Most NASA people just called it The Cape. The crew would be put in isolation a week before the launch, which was in January. Not long now.

I wanted to go.
Badly.

Lea’s father hadn’t heard back about the launch pass. I was waiting for that news before I asked my mom. But that was an excuse. If I couldn’t get a pass, I’d still be able to see the liftoff from a place close by the Kennedy Space Center, maybe on a beach in Cocoa Beach. So the only reason I was delaying talking to Mom was because I was a big fat coward, as Lea said.

But right now, I couldn’t bear to hear the word no. The longer I put off asking Mom, the longer I could pretend I was actually going.

- - - - -

I checked the mailbox daily. Nothing for me.