The misty air gathered droplets at the brim of his helmet. He didn’t latch it like other boys in his platoon. Even though it made it challenging to keep the damn thing on his head, but he heard that rumor that explosions could take your head with your helmet if you clasp the straps. So with the crash of every wave against the breaching amphibious vessel he held one hand on his weapon, the other on his helmet to keep it from toppling off. “3 minutes!” he heard his Platoon Sergeant yell. His heart sank. He had never been in battle before. Boot camp was intense, but crawling under barbwire and dodging Drill Sergeants can’t be the same as the real thing. He looked over his shoulder and saw the first shot to kill the quietness of the atmosphere. A bunkered turret mowed through the inhabitants of a leading boat like they were fish in a barrel. “Get ready to jump over!” his Platoon Sergeant must have witnessed the same thing and thought if his boys were to have a fighting chance it would be in the disguise of the water. He wrapped his weapon sling around his forearm and got ready to jump when he witnessed the man next to him take a round to the head and ragdoll over the side. Hesitation caught for a moment till he felt the boot of his Platoon Sergeant plant in his back sending him over. The water was heavy and cold and he swam like a disabled cat trying to make it to the surface until he realized that the darting fish around him were actually bullets. He then let all his air out and grasped at the rocky bottom of the narrowing waterfront until he emerged behind a barricade and stood gathering his breath. He couldn’t recognize a single person that was with him, pressed for precious inches against the cover keeping them from the dangerous eyes of the bunkered turret above. His mind raced with different plans until he became distracted by the red sand at his feet. He lifted a boot and admired his boot-print as red water seeped through the treads. He then recognized someone struggling to come out of the water as they were riddled with bullets. All cautions and fear he pushed away and ran towards the other man wanting to help his comrade. He was within arms distance until he felt someone punch him in the back. That punch was so strong it turned him around, and caused him to fall head side-ways on the sand and small surf tickled his scalp. More red water seemed to be seeping from the sand around his paralyzed body, his still mobile eyes became transfixed on the vertical ebb and flow of the red-foamy waves rolling in, until he faded to black and died on the beach.
“You’re at the twenty minute marker.” The radio sizzled through his right ear. “Roger.” He chimed back looking at his oxygen gauge. Forty minutes until red, but he knew he wouldn’t dare push it that far. The mirrors on the Hubble seemed fine, no cracks no more cause for repair. But he couldn’t bring himself to radio Houston that he was finished. Not for another 5 minutes and 28 seconds. He looked at his watch and witnessed the twenty seconds dwindle into the teens. He had witness what he was about to witness once before. The first time he wasn’t expecting it, but this time he was going to take it all in and appreciate every aspect for what it was worth. “What’s the status Gallagher 1?” Houston finally chimed through, “Oh…” he looked at his watch “approximately 4 minutes and 52 seconds.” He replied. “Ha ha… Take your time Gallager 1.” Houston retorted, understanding what he was waiting for. He decided that he should get into position as the eastern wing of the Hubble would block about 30% of his view so he decided to disconnect his tether and shimmy to the far southern clasp closest to Earth. He attempted to appreciate every second of his experience while exposed to nothing, knowing that this may be his last time he would ever get to. The feeling of no pressure, of just the slightest brush on something would repel it and send it flying like a bullet. That the concept of up and down was null. The ground he was born on was above his head in a blue and white orb. Where he existed now there was no such thing as ground. What you planted your feet on was to hold you in place, not to move around on. When he reached the southern tip of the Hubble he latched himself and double checked the security of his tether. He then let go of the handle and watched the tether as he drifted away from the object. He was now completely and entirely alone. He closed his eyes and embraced the moment of perfection. He didn’t worry about time, or oxygen, or tethering, repairs, radio commands, suit integrity, status updates, or any other of the many things his busy mind constantly worried him about. He simply existed in a place of non-existence. His suit had the best environmental protection that science could engineer, but it couldn’t hide what he was waiting for. Finally, when he felt it, he slowly opened his eyes and witnessed the breach of the sun over the curvature of the earth. Its majestic beauty instilled in him indescribable emotion. He felt his heart slow even more as he surprised himself by becoming even more relaxed. His tinted visor allowed him to look directly at it. Like he was graced with the presence of God. If he could sum the experience up in one word, it would be “warm”.
