Rust Bucket

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“Dismissed…”

That final word hung over me for a moment before I fully comprehended everything. That final word meant the end for me getting into space as anything other than a paying passenger. The Commandant of the Space Academy was dropping me from the rolls. I stood there speechless for a few moments until Sergeant Clark gently took me by the arm and guided me out of the Commandant’s office.

“Son, you all right?” he asked.

I looked at him, still speechless with a painful lump in my throat. My eyes weren’t yet watering enough for a tear to fall.

He said, “Come along with me, Dave. It’s not the end. We’ll have some coffee or whatever and talk it out before you start packing. Then I’ll give you a hand there, too.”

I allowed him to guide me to the Dining Facility. We went over to the coffee dispenser and he filled two cups of coffee. While I wasn’t looking, or maybe I was without paying attention, he took out a small flask and poured just a capful of whiskey into each cup. He pressed one cup into my hands and continued to guide me by the elbow over to a table where we sat down on hard plastic chairs. He managed to get me to take a sip. The unexpected touch of whiskey choked me for a moment, but it was enough to break through the pain in my throat. I suddenly came to life again and started realizing what happened and where I was and why.

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