Junior was feeling SICK. Sick like he had never felt sick in his entire life.
He remembered when, a couple of years previously, he barely made it to the bathroom before starting to puke. That night, the fever had started and he ended up staying home from school for two whole weeks.
"Lucky!" his schoolmates said.
“Food poisoning" the doctor said.
The doctor was right.
For the worst part of those two weeks, the fever had left him restless. His head was hurting, his bones were aching and, thanks to the nausea, he couldn't bring himself to eat anything other than soup.
But right now he wasn't just feeling sick. He was ANGRY.
Just like that time when Peter Connelly had sunk his prized ship. Junior had begged his father relentlessly for that model yacht, until, finally, he had caved. They built it together, in the time his father could spare from his work. On the day of the launch, Peter, undoubtedly jealous, undoubtedly an ass, had thrown a rock across the water, hitting the model and sinking it.
Junior, without pausing to think, had launched himself towards Peter. To this day he felt more angry for the fact that he couldn't land a nice punch on Peter than he was for the loss of his ship.
This time though, he wasn't angry at anything in particular. He was just angry.
He was also feeling something he couldn't quite put his fingers on...
Suddenly Junior remembered something that happened years, possibly ages, previously.
AMANDA
Little one, your name is little one!
His sister was teasing him.
JUNIOR
NO! It's not!
AMANDA
Yes it is! Yes it is!
Their parents got angry if the two of them got their hands on each others. His, sister, three years wiser, knew this well and resorted to words if she wanted to hurt him.
JUNIOR
SHUT UP!!!
AMANDA
What are you going to do?
She was not going to shut up on her own, and he could not retort physically. Felling powerless, DESPERATE, he started crying. As his father hurried out into the garden, his sister quickly left, pretending she had nothing to do with the situation.
JOHN
Junior, what's the matter, have you hurt yourself?
He was sobbing so hard he couldn't answer. His father hugged him and comforted him. Soon, Junior was able to tell him what had happened.
JUNIOR
She says, she says... my name is little one, but my... my name is Junior!
JOHN
Ah, I see... but your full name isn't Junior, is it?
JUNIOR
No, it's not... it's John Junior Space.
His father sat down on the ground in front of him, looking Junior level in the eyes.
JOHN
And do you know why you are called John Junior?
JUNIOR
No...
JOHN
You are called John like my father, and Junior like your mother's father.
JUNIOR
Ok...
JOHN
And do you know what my full name is?
JUNIOR
Uhm... John Space...
JOHN
Jr.! My full name is John Space Jr. See? There is nothing wrong with being called Junior...
He had smiled back then, and he smiled now.
Lost in his thoughts, he had for a moment forgotten what he was so SAD about, but this last memory painfully reminded him of the present.
Footsteps in the corridor, a knock on the door. His mother.
BEATRIX
Sweetie...
The PAIN he could hear in her voice was unbearable.
He was lying on his bed, his back facing her, but he could picture her red eyes, her tired expression.
BEATRIX
The President's about to speak. You should come...
He didn't answer.
BEATRIX
I'll leave the door open for you...
She went back into the living room. With the door open, Junior could clearly hear the television. He didn't have the strength to get up anyway.
PRESIDENT CLARKSON
This morning, 20th of June 1985, contact was lost on re-entry with Space Shuttle Saratoga. Our worst fears were soon realized, as the spacecraft was witnessed disintegrating in the skies over California. Unfortunately, it has been confirmed, there were no survivors...
It is not the first time that our country has lost its citizens in the pursuit of the cosmos. Just like the three astronauts of Apollo 2, who met their end on the way to space, the men and women who died today shall be remembered as heroes.
They paid the ultimate price to push the boundaries of human knowledge forward.
There can be no greater sacrifice, and there can be no greater goal.
The history of America, the history of mankind has been forged by pioneers, who dared to go where no one else had yet dared, and by doing so, reminded the rest of us that limits are there to be surpassed, uncharted space is there to be explored.
Tonight my family, and every family in America, are near in spirit to the families of Commander Theresa Wittmann, Mission Specialists Clarence Bones, James Elliot, Brian McLean, Payload Specialists Jessica Bauer, Michael Green and Pilot John Space Jr.
Junior started crying again.
