THE MOON HOVERED above them, a silver-white orb in the black Colorado sky. Its light illuminated the treetops on the mountainside behind the house and washed the two boys’ small faces in a pale glow. The night was so clear, the Moon so enormous, that Houston could easily spot the darker patches of gray on its surface. From almost 240,000 miles away, these patches were nothing more than smudges of ashy color. But Houston knew they were miles-wide craters and mountains and valleys, created by millions of years of meteor strikes.
Robbie clicked his tongue, both of his index fingers hooked over his bottom teeth as he stared at the sky. Houston leaned his head close to his brother’s. His hair smelled like minty shampoo. Houston had helped Mom wash Robbie’s hair that afternoon. He’d been helping with all of Robbie’s care every day since Dad left.
Five days.
Five days since their four had become three.
Tonight, they were two—just Houston and Robbie on the back deck, each tucked into their sleeping bag, gazing up at that one, huge moon.
Houston hated the strange countdown his family had become in the last week. And so, instead, he focused his thoughts on space.
“It’s a full moon tonight. See that diagonal smudge kind of near the top? Those three dark spots stuck together?” He pointed, and Robbie followed the line Houston’s finger made across the sky. “The one in the middle is called the Sea of Tranquility. That’s where Apollo 11 landed.”
Robbie hummed, curling his knees up and leaning into Houston’s ribs. A line of drool was running down his fingers, which were still hooked over his teeth. It glinted in the moonlight. Houston used the edge of Robbie’s pillowcase to wipe it up before he could smear spit all over Houston’s pajama shirt.
But Robbie wasn’t in a feisty spit-smearing mood tonight. He hadn’t been his usual happy, silly self since …
Houston sighed. He didn’t want to think about Dad anymore. About the suitcases and boxes loaded into the bed of his truck. How he’d come back into the house after Mom closed the door, and Houston’s heart had lurched with hope. He changed his mind!
But he hadn’t. He’d only forgotten something important. Something he had to take with him.
Houston couldn’t remember what it was. All he knew was that it wasn’t him or Robbie.
A cool breeze rustled the leaves of aspen trees in the yard, whispering the end of summer. Robbie grunted softly, and Houston wondered if he was thinking about Dad, too.
He cleared his throat, which had gone thick and sticky. “Did you know that the footprints of Neil Armstrong and Buzz Aldrin are still up there? In the moondust?”
Robbie sucked his tongue, making a frog sound in the back of his throat. It was one of those Robbie sounds with several different meanings. Maybe contentment, or distraction, or even sadness.
“There’s no wind or rain or anything up there, so their tracks will stay forever.” Houston took a deep breath. “Someday, I’m gonna see them for myself,” he said quietly. Fiercely.
Robbie thumped his left fist against his skinny legs and Houston reached for Robbie’s iPad, holding it up so his brother could see the screen. He supported Robbie’s small wrist, wrinkling his nose a little when he felt the slick trail of drool still on Robbie’s skin.
The light from the screen reflected in his brother’s dark brown eyes as he focused, searching for what he wanted to say. Mom had gotten Robbie this iPad only a month ago, but he was already really good at using it to express his thoughts. Robbie was only five, so he couldn’t read the words yet, but the squares of simple illustrations were perfect for him.
Houston waited patiently, holding Robbie’s wrist steady so his fingers could tap the boxes he needed. Finally, the words Robbie wanted to say appeared along the top.
You brother go Moon?
Houston had loved astronauts and space for as long as he could remember, but he’d never really thought about leaving Earth for real.
Not until five days ago.
“I’m gonna be an astronaut,” he told his brother. Saying the words out loud made his heart beat hard in his chest. He knew with an urgent clarity he’d never felt in his entire eight years of life that the words were true. He was going to be an astronaut. He was going to go to space.
Robbie was still and quiet for a long moment, his eyes drifting back toward the heavens. Then he concentrated on the screen again.
You brother leave Robbie
Houston went as cold as the dark side of the Moon. He thought of Robbie’s face as the two of them had listened to the engine growl of Dad’s truck fading down the long driveway. Robbie had banged his head against the headrest of his wheelchair over and over, silent tears streaming down his pale cheeks.
You brother go Moon
Leave Robbie
“No.” Houston pulled Robbie’s hand from his mouth and held it tight in his own. “I won’t leave you, Robbie. I promise.”
Moonlight reflected in Robbie’s big brown eyes and shone against his dark hair as he gazed at Houston. He looked so much like Mom, especially with his jaw set stubbornly, lips pressed into a thin line. Houston felt a jolt of jealousy. He wished he looked like Mom, too. Then maybe he wouldn’t see pain slide across her face every time she looked at him. Instead, Houston shared Dad’s auburn hair and long, freckled nose. They had the same broad smile. The only difference was Houston’s eyes. Dad’s eyes were hazel, but Houston’s were as blue as the sky.
Robbie reached for the iPad again.
You brother go Moon
Take Robbie
Go Moon together
Houston chewed his lip, thinking hard. Nobody like Robbie had ever been to space before. But it had been nearly fifty years since any human had stepped foot on the Moon. The world had changed a lot since then. Space travel had changed a lot, too. Soon, NASA would be sending another crew to the Moon, including the first woman and person of color.
So why not Robbie?
“Yeah,” Houston whispered. Then, more loudly, “Yeah, I’ll take you. We’ll go to space together!”
Again, the words held the weight of truth, and Houston felt them settle into his heart.
Robbie clicked his tongue, hooking an index finger over his lower teeth and cheeseball-grinning.
It was the first time Houston had seen Robbie smile in five days.
He couldn’t let that grin disappear again.
“I’ll never leave you behind, Robbie,” Houston said, pulling his brother close. “I promise.”
CHAPTER 1
“DID YOU KNOW the tires on the first lunar rover were made out of woven piano wires?” Houston asked.
The image of Primo’s face froze. Primo’s aunt had terrible Wi-Fi. Plus she lived way up in the mountains, a million miles away from civilization—according to Primo—so anytime he and Houston tried to video call during the summer, their connection was always terrible.
“Really?” Primo asked, the picture scrambling, then correcting itself.
Houston held up the model of the lunar rover he’d finished building that morning and spun one of the small mesh wheels. “Yep. NASA hired a group of women who were expert weavers to make them by hand because they were so complicated. If the wheels weren’t perfect, the rover wouldn’t be able to move in the Moon’s regolith. That’s what lunar dust is called.”
“Cool,” Primo said. He held up a fist. “Girl power!”
Houston repeated the words he’d heard his mother say a million times. “Down with the patriarchy!”
“I can’t believe you leave tomorrow,” his best friend said. Primo ran a hand through his thick blond curls. They flopped against his forehead.
“I know.” Houston’s stomach did a funny little squirm at the thought.
“I mean, I’m glad you’re going to JARP since you’ve been obsessing over it forever. But I want to play the newest SpaceCraft update with you next week!”
Houston rolled his eyes. “It’s not jarp. It’s the J-A-R-P.”
Primo shook his head, grinning. “No way. It’s not N-A-S-A, it’s NASA. Same rules apply, in my book. Besides, JARP is fun to say. JARP! JARP!”
“You sound like a seal.”
“Space Seal!” Primo clapped his hands together, saying jarp jarp a few more times, and Houston cracked up.
Something thumped on the other side of his bedroom wall. A second later, he heard Robbie’s throaty wail.
Houston set the lunar rover down on his desk. “I better go.”
Another thump from his little brother’s bedroom. This one was followed by Mom’s voice.
“Ouch! Robert Matthew Stewart, let go of my hair right now!” Her tone was sharp, and Houston could tell she was in pain.
“Okay,” Primo said. He leaned close to his camera so his face appeared huge on Houston’s screen. “Have fun being a bad as—tronaut!”
Houston snorted. Primo had made up that joke the same day Houston had been accepted into the Junior Astronaut Recruitment Program, and he repeated it as much as possible.
They said goodbye, and Houston snapped his laptop shut before hurrying down the hall to his brother’s room. Mom was kneeling beside Robbie on the floor, her neck twisted at an uncomfortable angle as Robbie’s bony fingers gripped her long brown hair. She’d obviously been in the process of changing his underwear because his pants were on the carpet next to her, and his skinny bare legs were crossed at the knee in midair.
Like a good astronaut, Houston assessed the situation. The hand that wasn’t wrapped around their mother’s hair was clamped between Robbie’s teeth, and his eyes were squeezed shut as he groaned.
This was definitely pre-seizure territory.
Houston launched into action.
“Houston, to Major Robbie!” He knelt next to his brother’s tense body. “Come in, Major Robbie. It’s time to strap you into your rocket.” He gently tugged Robbie’s hand from between his teeth.
Robbie’s eyes were screwed tight, and his chin jutted out as he arched his neck against a spasm of pain. Houston swung a leg over his brother’s chest, pinning his left arm down so he couldn’t bite his fingers anymore.
“Straps secure!” He leaned forward and blew a stream of cool air onto Robbie’s sweaty face, then made a staticky noise in the back of his throat. “Kuhhk. T-minus ten seconds to launch!”
Without his fingers to bite, Robbie clamped down on his lower lip and his body bucked against Houston’s leg. Even though Houston was three years older and had a lot more meat on his bones, he felt sweat trickle down the back of his neck as he tried to keep Robbie from thrashing. The kid was amazingly strong for a skinny ten-year-old.
“Robbie,” Mom said, her voice soothing but firm. “I know it hurts. Let go of me so I can get your tube and get the gas out.”
Bubbles of gas in Robbie’s stomach were a daily occurrence and were always painful. Pain made his muscles tense up. The problem was, Robbie’s body was already too tense. He had cerebral palsy, which meant—as Robbie described it—that his muscles didn’t work right. His whole body was so tight that his arms, legs, fingers, and toes were curled up and clenched almost all the time. Even the muscles in his stomach were tight, which was why things that weren’t always painful for other people—like gas—were extra painful for him. Sometimes, he’d scream or cry because it hurt so bad. If Mom and Houston couldn’t help him manage the pain, he’d spiral out of control, getting so worked up and overheated, he could have a seizure.
That was bad news.
Careful not to put any real weight on him, Houston shifted his body so he could hold both of Robbie’s shoulders in his hands. He began to shake him gently, mimicking rocket vibrations. “Ten! Nine!”
In between numbers, he blew a jet of air onto his brother’s sticky skin. The rhythm broke through Robbie’s internal spiral and he let out a gruff chuckle, his body starting to relax.
“Eight! Seven!”
Robbie’s fingers released and Mom pulled her hair free, rubbing her scalp.
Houston shook him a little harder. “Engines on!”
Robbie finally opened his eyes and locked his gaze on Houston’s face. His grimace of pain shifted into something closer to a goofy smile. Mom took a thin, flexible tube from the plastic container of Robbie’s medical supplies and connected it to the open port, called a G-tube, in Robbie’s stomach with a soft snap. The port looked like the button on a beachball that opened to let air in or out, and functioned in much the same way.
Copyright © 2023 by Lindsay Lackey
Copyright © 2023 by Ashley Mackenzie
