Comet's Tale

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Comet's Tale

By painebook


The hum of the air recycling unit filled the small cabin. The eight-year-old boy looked up from his homework when his mother stuck her head into the cramped space.

"Time for bed, Cyncho. Save your work and close down your computer."

Folding the table into the wall, the boy pulled out the small sink so he could wash his face and brush his teeth. Finished with his nightly routine, he hung his sleeping bag from the ceiling.

His mother reappeared at the hatchway. "Ready to be zipped in?"

"No." He stepped into the cocoon, making room for her to sit on the lone chair in the cabin. "Mom. Please tell me a story."

"It's late darling. You should sleep."

"But I'm not tired at all." He batted his eyes at his mother. He knew she couldn't resist him when he did that. "Please?"

"All right. I think we have time for a short one. Do you want to hear about Comet's Tale?"

"I know all about the comet's tail. One of the kids in my class gave his project report on it. It's made up of dust particles and gasses. Then the light from the sun changes some of the gases into irons, making the tail. He said the tail always points away from the sun."

Laughter filled the small space. "It's Comet's t-a-l-e, not t-a-i-l. And I think your friend meant to say ions, not irons. But that's not important. If you promise to try and sleep, I'll tell you the story."

Snuggled in his cocoon, he grinned. "Okay, Mom. I promise."

"Once upon a time, when I was a little girl, we lived down on Earth. We had lots of holidays, but my favorite was the one called Christmas. A jolly old man named Santa used to bring special things to all the good little boys and girls."

"You mean like when I clean up our cabin without being told?"

"Just like that. If you were good, Santa would fly to your house, dropping off gifts."

Fascinated, Cyncho leaned against the webbing that held him upright. "What kinds of gifts would he bring?"

"Things that we could use. Water, fuel for the generator, food and warm clothing. He'd always leave it right outside the door, so we could find it first thing in the morning."

"Then what happened? Why don't we see Santa anymore?"

"Things were bad on the surface. It was crowded and the cities were jammed with people."

Shaking his head, he spread his arms, touching the sides of his tiny personal space. "More crowded than this? I don't believe it."

"We lived in a big city. Things were just as tight as they are here. But I need to get back to the story." She scrunched her brow for a moment, then continued. "I remember we had a chance to leave Earth and move out here. It's where the jobs were. Now we mine things from the asteroids. The money we make helps the family members we left behind live in better houses and have nice things. We lost sight of Christmas, but Santa didn't forget about us. The only problem is, he has so many people to take care of on the planet that he only sends us gifts once every five years."

"He sends us stuff? How come I never got anything?" Cyncho felt his blue eyes filling up with tears.

"You were only three the last time he sent gifts. How could you possibly remember? My dad always said, be thankful for the things you have, and you'll never need anything else." His mother reached into the cocoon, gently stroking his hair. "You'll remember this time, I promise."

"Okay, Mom. So how do the presents get here?"

"There's an old poem called 'The Night Before Christmas' that mentions Santa's reindeer."

"You mean he has large deer for pets?"

"Not exactly. These are magical reindeer. They fly through the air pulling Santa's sleigh. He can make a trip around the world in one night, bringing gifts to every good boy and girl."

"That defies the laws of physics we just learned about in school." The boy looked at his mother. "How can it be?"

"We believed. It happened. It's enough." She sighed. "Can I finish the story? It's getting late and already past your sleep cycle."

"Go ahead. Please don't stop now."

"Let me remember how the poem went." She held up a finger for each name. "Now Dasher, now Dancer, now Prancer and Vixen, on Comet, on Cupid, on Donner and Blitzen. Eight tiny reindeer pulled the sleigh. Santa knows we have good children out here, so he thought long and hard about how to send us our gifts. He decided that since we were in space, Comet would be the perfect choice." Standing up as if to leave, she finished. "He puts all the gifts on Comet's back then sends him on his way." She yawned. "It's late. I'll tell you the rest later."

"You can't be finished with the story. I have so many questions."

"Got you, didn't I?" Grinning, she sat back down. "Reindeer may be magical, but there's no way they can fly as fast as our space shuttles. Santa knows even the speediest reindeer takes two and a half years to get all the way out here to the asteroid belt. Once he delivers the gifts, Comet flies back to Earth. Then Santa loads him up again, and he starts back."

"I get it. That's why it takes five years. If I was three when Comet last came, he must be coming back soon." He sighed, hoping Santa wouldn't let him down. "I'm glad the time is almost up. How does Comet know who to give gifts to?"

"Good boys and girls get told the story, just like you did. Then their parents have them put their skin suits outside the bedroom cubicle and see what happens in the morning."

"I can't wait until Comet comes."

"You don't have to, my son. Put your suit outside. Comet arrives tonight." She pointed her finger at him. "But he'll only come if you go to sleep in the next five minutes. Don't end up with nothing but vacuum."

The next morning, Cyncho woke early. He wriggled out of his sleeping harness and stepped into the hallway. The suit's cargo pocket bulged with gifts.

"Comet was here," he whispered. Then he let out a bellow that could be heard throughout the entire ship. "Comet was here. He came, just like Mom said he would." He began to pull the items out one by one.

"A new computer program." He read the label aloud. "Migratory habits of the North American Caribou. Now I can learn all about reindeer. A bottle of fresh water. It says it's from a mountain spring. I'm going to save that for later." He pulled out a yellowish fruit. "Is this an orange? I never had a fresh one before." He read the wrapper on the last gift, a small rectangular package. "Milk chocolate. I've only read about this stuff. I hope it's as good as they say it is."

"It really is." His mother stood, smiling in the hallway.

"Happy Christmas, Mother. I'm glad to be with you." He hugged her tightly. "I want to share Comet's gifts with you and Dad after dinner tonight if that's all right with you."

"It is." She brushed away the tears that filled her eyes. "I'm sure we'll all enjoy them very much. Happy Christmas, son."

*****

Heading back to Earth after an expedition to the Andromeda Galaxy, Captain Gutierrez looked out the viewport at the passing stars. He reflected on his 125 years in space. He'd missed out on a lot of things but was always grateful for the life he lived. He remembered his mother's words. Be thankful for the things you have, and you'll never need anything else. A hard tug on his sleeve and a squeaky voice interrupted his thoughts.

"Grandpa Cyncho, can you PLEASE tell me a bedtime story?"

Holding his arms out, he swept up the small child, holding her close. "I sure can, Nolitta." Carrying her toward her cabin, he began. "I think it's time you learn the story of Comet's Tale."

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