The Season Of Passage Part 4

'Lauren,' she said.

'Lauren, yes, we are all friends. Now I imagine you must be asked this all the time. I hate to ask you myself.'

Lauren smiled. 'For an autograph?'

'Yes. My boy, Michael, he is fourteen years old this summer, and he talks about nothing but s.p.a.ce, and rocket ships, and going to Mars. He is a fine boy, he helps me when he can. I told him you had come in with Mr Hayes, and he begged me for an introduction.'

'I would be happy to meet him,' Lauren said.

Mr Russo started to throw his arms toward the ceiling before he remembered which country he was now living in. Terry chuckled to himself as Mr Russo folded his arms across his chest.

'You don't know what you would be letting yourself in for,' Mr Russo said. 'My boy, he would talk your head off. He has a bigger mouth than his papa - his father. But no, he has school tomorrow, and I sent him home early. I didn't want to intrude upon your last night out together. But I promised him I would ask if you could possibly sign his picture.'

'Sure,' Lauren said.

Mr Rus...o...b..amed. From inside his coat he withdrew an undersized rolled-up poster and gave it to Lauren. She undid the print and laughed. It was a picture of the Nova, taken from high Earth orbit, looking down on an incredibly blue Pacific.

Personally, Terry thought the ship was ugly. It was all spheres and rotating hammer-like arms. He would have liked a couple of sleek wings and several s.p.a.cious view windows. He didn't know what idiot had thought up the name. It was so fifties sci-fi. At least they had called the Martian lander something that had personality - the Hawk.

'I thought you meant a picture of myself,' Lauren said, explaining her laughter. 'Why, that's a fine shot of our ship. I've never seen it before.'

'He keeps it under a plastic cover on the inside of his school notebook,' Mr Russo said. He produced a pen. 'You are so kind.'

'Michael,' Lauren muttered, beginning the note, no doubt a note she had written a thousand times before.

Mr Russo sighed. 'He will treasure this.'

Lauren paused. 'I feel a bit funny writing him a personal message when I haven't even seen your son. Do you have Michael's picture?'

'Certainly.' Mr Russo pulled out a wallet that unraveled into a dozen pictures of his son: baby Michaels; birthday Michaels; boring Michaels. He gave one to Lauren.

She grinned. 'He's cute.'

'Better be careful,' Terry said to Mr Russo, keeping a straight face. 'Lauren might be checking him out for her sister.'

Mr Russo got excited. 'I met her once. A magnificent child. Her eyes - they belong to an angel. Lauren, that picture of my boy, you must keep it for her.'

Lauren flushed. 'I really don't know if Jenny is old enough for me to be-'

'Who knows?' Mr Russo interrupted. 'Kids grow up fast. Maybe in a year or two she will take a fancy to him. What could it hurt? No?'

Lauren nodded. 'You're right, Mr Russo. What could it hurt?' She put the photograph in her purse.

Terry had met Michael several times. He didn't stand a chance next to Daniel. Like his father, he ate too many pizzas, and was pudgy, whereas Daniel was built like Tarzan.

Lauren finished her note on the back of the poster and handed it to Mr Russo. He read the words aloud.

'"Today, Michael, my generation travels to Mars. Tomorrow, yours will reach for the stars. Signed: Lauren Wagner, M.D., First American Expedition." Very inspirational!'

'Thank you,' Lauren said.

Terry thought of the long drive tomorrow, and the day after that, and started to get up. 'It was a fine evening, Mr Russo,' he said. 'But we really must be on our way.'

Mr Russo gestured apologetically. 'I'm as bad as my boy. Talking away.' He helped Lauren with her chair.

Terry reached for his wallet. 'Could I get the bill?'

Mr Russo looked exasperated. 'How can I charge a famous American hero? No, certainly not. Put your money away. It is no good here.' He took the white rose that Lauren had left on their table and presented it to her. 'This has been a great honor. Again, my prayers for your safe return.'

Lauren leaned over and gave him a quick peck on the cheek. Mr Russo's eyes opened. 'Thank you,' she said. 'You're very kind.'

Mr Rus...o...b..ushed aside her praise. 'When you return, we will celebrate together. Promise me your first dinner out together will be here?'

'We promise,' Terry said. They shook hands.

'We will slaughter the fatted calf,' Mr Russo said. 'Only the finest for America's hero.'

Lauren played with her rose. 'I will save my appet.i.te. Give my best to your son.'

Terry knew Lauren would want a change of menu. The fatted calf - she never ate red meat.

FIVE.

Parking near the cabin, they saw that the light in the front window was still on.

'Think she's up?' Terry asked.

'She's probably reading,' Lauren said. 'She probably hasn't gone to her own room yet.'

'A pity,' Terry said. He reached over and pulled her into his arms. They started to kiss, lightly at first, then hard. Lauren tasted the coffee he had drunk with his meal. She liked coffee. She liked the feel of his hands on her body. Terry had the greatest hands in the world, and not just for lovemaking. It had been one of the things that had drawn her to him in the first place. He had a subtle way of gesturing as he talked that made what he was saying appear ridiculous, even when he was being serious. He did it on purpose, he said. He didn't want to be taken seriously, because, he said, all of life was a joke. Of course, he had probably been joking when he made the remark.

He was the craziest guy Lauren had ever met. Once he had come to a meeting of the entire Nova crew, where they talked at length about what they would do if any number of emergencies struck. Terry had sat there and listened without saying a word until their commander - Colonel William Brent - had asked Terry if he felt they were being overly cautious. Terry had looked at him and said seriously, 'What if you get to Mars and you're there for a couple of days and you start to get bored? What if you get so bored you begin to wonder why you went there in the first place? What are you going to do then?'

Colonel Brent hadn't smiled. Word had it that he had given up on the habit. 'I hardly see how that would make one bit of difference.'

'Real bored people have been known to have their minds play tricks on them,' Terry had warned. 'You could start seeing things that aren't there. It's not as though you can come home anytime you want, you know.'

'Do you honestly feel this is a danger?' Colonel Brent had asked.

'Nah,' Terry had said with a laugh. 'I was just hoping maybe I could get you guys to call the whole thing off.'

He's going to miss me. Boy am I going to miss him.

Lauren's big problem with men, until she met Terry, had been boredom. She'd worried about it. Did she get fed up so quickly with the men she dated because she was an egotistical feminist b.i.t.c.h who thought she was better than everyone who wore a p.e.n.i.s full time? Being with Terry had taught her that she simply needed the bizarre to stay excited. She shouldn't have been surprised, he said. Anybody who had dreamed about going to Mars since they were five years old was pretty bizarre themselves. Terry had helped her to understand that she could be special without being alone. She had often felt lonely until she met him. Right from the start, though, she had felt that he had always been a part of her life.

Few women would have said Terry was handsome. His sandy hair was thinning and he needed to gain twenty pounds to reach a normal weight. He also had a habit of squinting when he was thinking and consequently had more lines around his eyes than a thirty-eight-year-old man who seldom went out in the sun deserved. But he had style, and not just in the way he gestured. He had a c.o.c.kiness in his laugh and a twinkle in his eye that made her feel she could trust him with her nastiest thoughts and deepest hopes at the same time. He also loved to love her for hours on end. He never got bored with her. It didn't matter what he ate or drank beforehand - he always tasted sweet.

'This is fun,' she said as he kissed her some more.

'It's getting funner,' he agreed.

Lauren shifted her weight and leaned back. Terry fell on top of her. The front seat was terribly cramped, but that was all right. She knew how much he loved to do it in cars, especially rented ones. He once told her that the smell of all the other people who had driven the car, especially the different perfumes of the women, excited him. He had this fantasy that all those people were actually there watching them when they did it, which Lauren thought was pretty kinky.

Terry opened the b.u.t.ton on her pants and fiddled with her zipper, which appeared to be stuck. She started to help him, until she remembered her orders.

'Terry?' she said.

'Hmmm?' He was working on the zipper, and having a hard time. She expected him to use his teeth on it next. Lauren took a deep breath. Her orders, what were her orders?

'Terry. The Antabolene.'

'Who?' he muttered, uninterested. Finally, he was successful, and zipped down her fly, slipping his hand over her bare hip. His touch was always gentle, yet firm, too, which she liked. She couldn't remember the last time she had turned him down, if there had ever been a time. It was a pity it would have to be tonight.

The Antabolene was the drug that would be fed into her system aboard the Nova. It induced a reduced metabolic rate and was the key to hibernation. As a prelude to the Antabolene's intake, the doctors at NASA had forbidden her to take oral contraceptives. Biochemical variables had to be kept to a minimum, they said. They didn't know Terry. She realized if she didn't stop him immediately she might end up getting pregnant and having a baby on Mars. Oh, but she liked how he rubbed her there, right there...

'Terry. Terry, wait a second.'

'Huh?' He glanced up from his four-handed exploration of her body. Lauren took the opportunity to try to pull up her pants, but rolled off the seat and fell on the floor, where she ended up straddling the stick shift. Terry peered at her in the moonlight. 'What are you doing down there?' he asked.

'I was talking about the Antabolene. They told me to throw away this month's pills.'

'And you did what they said?'

'Of course.'

'I read once the odds are no better than a hundred to one. For doing it just once, that is.'

'It depends on the time of the month.'

'I was speaking of averages,' he said.

Lauren crawled onto the seat and playfully shoved him away. 'I've always defied the odds.'

Terry sighed. 'Now I'll never be able to get to sleep.'

'We'll go for a walk and burn off the energy.'

He tugged at her pants. 'That never works. Now a hundred to one, those are pretty good odds.'

Lauren opened the car door and slipped from reach. 'We'll take a long walk,' she said sweetly.

'd.a.m.n. Do I get a rain check?'

'In two years I'll give you Master Charge.'

Later they strolled along the sh.o.r.e of the lake, the same sh.o.r.e she had raced over earlier. The night was cool but pleasant. An idyllic breeze rustled the forest. The moon sparkled on the rippling water. They walked slowly, saying little. Lauren derived much contentment from the simple act of holding his hand. Only when they reached the stream did they pause. Lauren took off her shoes and dipped a toe.

'It's cold,' she said.

'The whole lake is,' Terry said.

'I know.' Lauren let go his hand and rolled up her pants to her knees. 'This evening I went swimming way out. It was fun. Hey, Terry, let's cross over to the other side.'

'Don't you remember what happened last time?'

'I promise I won't slip,' she said.

'Sure. I think it's unnatural for a modern man to take off his shoes when he's outside. Go ahead if you want, but I'm staying here.'

Lauren stepped into the icy current, feeling marble-smooth stones beneath her feet. The stream was colder than the lake. Quickly her toes turned numb. She hurried across and climbed onto a boulder. Terry sat on a big rock across from her.

'How was Houston?' she asked, squeezing her feet in her hands, trying to warm them.

'Not bad. But I hated to leave here when we have such little time together left. Tom's been kind of bugging me lately. He wants me to write an article about the reporters who cover the astronauts.'

'An article on him?' Lauren asked.

'I think so. What did you do while I was gone?'

'Talked to Jenny. Went for long walks. Waited for you to come back.' She listened for a moment to the breeze in the trees the lapping of the water on the sand. 'It's so peaceful here,' she whispered.

'Yes. I'm glad they don't launch the shuttle here.'

'Terry? Did you hear what Daniel said? About a girl drowning in the lake last week?'

Terry showed interest. 'No. Who was it?'

'I don't know. Daniel said she was his age. He figured she swam out too far and got cramps.'

'Let that be a warning to you. Was Jenny there when he said this?'

'Yes. Why?'

'I want her to be careful swimming alone when you're gone.'

'She never goes out far,' Lauren said.

'Still. I wonder who the kid was. It could be the Jeffersons' little girl. Christ, I hope it wasn't her.'

'Maybe the girl's family was just pa.s.sing through,' Lauren said.

'All the same, it's a shame.'