East of the skies

She shifted the gears, her hands working with dexterity on the control board. She spoke into the microphone even though I was beside her ‘Commander Judd. We are at minimum velocity and on the minimum energy flight trajectory.’ Her voice was loud and clear even though the sound of flames blasting out from the third stage of the pathfinder was enough to drown her voice. ‘Good. We are heading to the crab Nebulus; I shouted back. ‘The acceleration is unstable. We won’t even be able to get to Uranus ‘she argued. ‘Then we’ll have to travel at light year; I told her. She tapped the control board and pressed some buttons. ‘Lights year. Order taken! She moved the throttle forward and the pathfinder leapt forward. I looked at the pilot and saw the gleam of enthusiasm in her brown eyes. But maybe it was the glow of stars ahead. I could see the large cloud of dust and gas. Well, shame on the astronauts and scientist that claimed that we couldn't reach the proxima centauri with a regular space craft. For goodness sake we were approaching the Crab Nebulus! ‘Slow down, pilot Jane. Let’s behold the wonders of the galaxy’ She released the throttle in response and sat back. ‘Whoa!’ She exclaimed, ‘The stars are huge and bright.’ “Judd!!!” That shout was loud. “Jane, can you lower your microphone or your voice? You’ll scream my eardrums out” Not me” she shrugged “JUDD!!!” The shout again. This time, we snapped out of the galaxy and landed on my bed in my bedroom. I reached for the stereo player at my bed side and put off the playback. My bedroom door swung open and who of all people could be here but my mum? Her face was the color of indignation. But wait. Let me tell you a little about my family My name is Judd Ambrose. And for your information, I just turned sixteen two days ago. I’m the black sheep of my family. You might what does this slender, dark-haired lad know about being a rebel? But I’ll explain. My dad, DR. Jack Ambrose, is a renowned medical doctor (probably the best) in spring field Memorial Hospital which is just a little distance from our home in Patrick chesterfield which is up north South Carolina. Well, right from his great great great grandfather, their lineage house have been a masterpiece of medical doctors and he’s intending to impose the medical caste on me. But unfortunately, I’m reaching forward to be an Astronaut. My mum own Stich Perfect, a fashion house in Mchennon which is quite distant from home. She is mild but strongly supports my dad’s decisions. Well, looking at her face right now, I guess I’m in a little bit of trouble. When she shifted her stern gaze from me, it landed on Jane who was trying to hide at the corner of my room. “Jane, to your room;” she ordered her, pointing at the doorway. In reply, Jane shuffled out of the room noiselessly and made it across to her room I hadn’t expected my mom to be back so early. I closed the encyclopedia before me and switched off the disco light. My mom held up a letter in her right hand. “You will explain this at dinner time;” her voice lack any sign of emotion. She stormed out of the room; banging the door hand that in a second, I thought the whole house would come crashing down. I tried to remember what was on the letter because I knew I had seen it before. “Oh no” “What’s cooking?” my dad’s voice rang as he stepped into the house that evening. Jane stepped up from where she had been solving her sums and went to hug our dad “UFO”; she said. My dad shot me a gaze where I was arranging the cutleries on the dining table. “UFO?” he asked me, still looking at me. “Unidentified Frying Object; she replied, taking his suitcase and stethoscope. “Welcome home honey” she said to him, still turning the frying chicken. They spoke in low tones and soon, he walked upstairs to his room. Few minutes later, we were all at the dining table. The table was square and a red and a green checkered cloth was laid on it. Dad sat at the head. I was opposite. Mom was at my right and Jane was at my left. Mom served basmati rice on everyone’s plate. Then came the chicken. Greens were on our buffet. I took a fork on my left hand and scooped. I tried to eat slowly. I could feel gazes on me and I knew I could choke soon. I reached for the glass and drank some water. That was when I realized that my dad had actually been reading the letter. My hearts went down to my guts. He dropped the letter and looked at me. His eyes looked tired I could even see the creases below his eyes through the glasses. I had once presumed that I could determine his age by counting the stress lines. “Judd. How many times do we have to go over this again? His voice broke through my thoughts. “You’re determining your child’s career.” “Because you’ve got to stick to the status quo;” his voice was almost a shout “It is a heritage you must adopt;” he continued suddenly, Jane spoke up. “According to the universal declaration of human rights, every individual is entitled to freedom of thought, conscience, association and religion.” “Jane, keep quiet.” my mum ordered. But she kept talking. “In other words, Judd is free to choose his future career”.