Ammona, Part 5

Bunk Room 942 wasn’t quiet for long.  Ammona scrolled through a media feed on her PTD while she lay on her back, left arm behind her head. She tried hard not to listen to the conversation Hian and Barrett were having, but it wasn’t easy.

“So, where you from?” Barrett inquired, while he attempted to play Tetris with his belongings and the locker he had chosen.

“Not really from anywhere,” said Hian, “My parents were military when I was a kid.”

“Not anymore?” Barrett asked, pushing a dark jacket into his locker.

Ammona scrolled past a news video about the Prime Minister of Celestial Affairs. The caption said there will be more restrictions on civilian spaceflight after a series of passenger craft accidents. They no longer seemed like accidents, said the caption. Of course millions of people were commenting on the video. Ammona kept scrolling.

“Nah, they’re retired now. That’s one thing military gets you: early retirement,” Hian answered Barrett.

you make it to the ship? A message from Drea popped up on the PTD. Ammona closed the media feed and flipped to her messaging app.

totally. stupid dude in my bunk room tho. truly hope i have 0 classes with him. She typed back, and tapped the Send arrow. saw some cool magnorcycles in the cargo hold. She added, and hit Send again.

“That sounds like a good deal.” Barrett was busy replying to Hian. Ammona heard the computer voice outside acknowledge someone else, and moved to sit up on her elbows. As always, she was curious about who the last of their bunk mates was going to be.

“Sometimes,” said Hian, and then fell silent as they also realized someone was coming through the door.

“Hey there folks,” a dark-haired person stepped through the door. He was tall, probably over six feet. He looked like a boy that Ammona had been to high school with, but she didn’t think it was him. This person’s face was narrow, his eyes set back, his nose like a beak. Ammona thought he looked like a very intelligent bird, though the way he stood reminded her of a cat. She shook off her initial judgments and sat up all the way.

“Well, hi!” Barrett greeted him warmly. “What’s your name?”

“Romero,” he replied, pulling his backpack off his right shoulder where it had hung carelessly a moment before. With one fluid motion, he flung it up towards the other top bunk, across from Ammona. The bag landed on the pillow, perfectly cushioning its fall.

Show off. Ammona thought. Her PTD buzzed, and she realized she still had it in her hand. She looked down at the screen to see a reply from Drea.

the journey won’t be long. find stuff to do, you’re good at that. you’ll barely see him. 

She’s right. Ammona admitted to herself.

“I’m Hian, and that’s King,” Ammona heard herself being introduced.

“Hi,” she looked up. “Nice to meet you.” Romero met her eyes, something she wasn’t used to.

“Nice to meet you, too,” he said. “I think we’re about to take off.” Ammona looked down at her PTD. She quickly typed a reply to Drea.

you’re probably right.

Ammona closed her PTD.

“It’s about time,” said Hian, “I got on board way too early.”

“When did you get here?” Asked Barrett, as he shut his locker and returned to his bunk.

“Pretty much first thing this morning,” replied Hian. Romero climbed up to his bunk and sat against the wall.

“I didn’t know I was going until the last minute,” said Romero. “I’m pretty sure they held the ship for me.” There was laughter in his voice, and he chuckled to himself after he spoke, like he had made a joke. Ammona could see something behind his eyes, boldness, and entitlement. For a moment she thought to herself that this was very much like her, when she was younger and she had not yet experienced the crushing weight of adulthood and brokenness. She shook off the feeling and focused on what he had actually said.

“They held the ship for you?” Ammona couldn’t help herself. Who is this dude? She wondered.

When Romero laughed, his whole face became a laugh. The laugh wrinkles near his eyes compacted into a sea of future crow’s feet, high cheekbones raised themselves when he grinned into the full laugh. Hian and Barrett laughed too, seemingly for no reason. There was something catching in it. Ammona was annoyed and intrigued. “I’m just kidding,” said Romero, “Well, half kidding. There was another kid they were shuttling down here, but it was just he and I left when we got on board.”

“I see,” said Ammona, “Lucky you made it.”

“Luck doesn’t have anything to do with it,” said Romero, grinning. Ammona didn’t know what he meant. She looked down at her PTD. No reply from Drea yet. She wondered what her best friend was doing.

The sound of an electronic bell rang on the console attached to the wall, near the door. Ammona looked up, and so did everyone else.

“This vessel will depart in 5 minutes.” Said the panel’s speaker. “Please remain on your bunk or in your bunk room until it is safe to roam about the ship. Do not delay in returning to your bunk.” Another bell played on the console, and the screen flashed red with words in white. Ammona couldn’t read it from her vantage point on the top bunk, so she assumed it said the same thing the panel had just said. The bell played again.

“This vessel will depart in 5 minutes,” the speaker began the recording again.

“Oh, hush,” said Hian, “We all have ears.” Barrett laughed, and Romero grinned.

“…or in your bunk room until it is safe to…” the speaker continued. Hian rose from their bed and went to the panel. Barrett followed and stood behind them. Nosy as always, thought Ammona. They both tapped the red screen in a few different places. Hian tried some gestures.

“Do not delay in returning to your bunk,” the recording insisted.

“I don’t think that’s something you can disable,” Romero began, “I’m pretty sure the security on an Academy transport ship is pretty tight.” The recording faded away after the last bell sound, and Ammona laid back down on her bunk.

“Don’t count on it,” Hian said, and the two of them kept trying.

I hope this thing takes off soon. She thought, and checked her PTD for the time. I should’ve checked what time that recording played. I don’t even know if it’s been five minutes yet.

The other two had still not returned to their bunks, but Ammona said nothing. Romero was also quiet. He had fished out his PTD and was typing on it. Habitually, Ammona pulled out hers and checked it again. Still no message from Drea. Maybe that was her fault.

“What about this button on the side of the panel?” Ammona heard Barrett ask.

“Either non-functional or the functionality’s been shut off,” Hian’s voice replied.

The whole ship moved suddenly, and Hian and Barrett both almost lost their footing.

“Don’t delay in returning to your bunks,” said Barrett, as he lowered himself to his bunk.

The whole world was moving then, as the spacecraft lurched out of the Orb’s docking station. Everything shook uncontrollably, as if the planet gods had turned the craft into a tuning fork and tapped it against a celestial object. Vibrations, that was all Ammona could see. She had to put away her PTD. Her whole body was shuddering. Everything she saw looked a little fuzzy, moving back and forth through a million tiny iterations of itself, quivering like a child in a snowstorm. Yet nothing was cold to Ammona.

Forgot what this was like. She thought, and noticed that all her bunkmates had fallen silent. Something, something about being hurled through a canister into the darkness and hoping it all works out. Ammona thought of Drea, of the funny things she said sometimes. She thought of how she might not see her for years. She thought of how Drea hated space travel. She’s scared of so many things. Ammona thought, and she tried not to be angry with Drea. She knew in a way that Drea felt abandoned, but something in Ammona felt abandoned, too.

Sure, she thought, as she became used to a shuddering world, as the vibration became normal and her physical components chose to accept it. She’s the one who is too scared to go out on adventures. She’s letting her fear trap her. That’s why she feels abandoned. But I feel abandoned by her, because she chose a safe cage over me. We are so weird. Ammona shook off the thought and looked at the ceiling several feet above her.

The world still shook as the spacecraft took off, and Bunk Room 942 was quiet for a moment while its inhabitants waited patiently to travel through a starry void.


Previously, with Ammona:

Ammona, Part 1

Ammona, Part 2

Ammona, Part 3

Ammona, Part 4

Collage and story created by Corissa Haury


Glossary of Acronyms

PTD – Personal Tech Device

Ridiculous, curious, most likely delirious.

I love a great story, whether it comes in the form of words or visual stimuli. I believe everyone has a story to tell, and I love to share mine.

Please feel free to read along, comment, share your own stories, or send me a message via the contact page. Thanks for your time reading my words.

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Ammona, Part 2 [Short Story]

“Come on, let’s go.” Ammona picked up her travel bag.

Drea munched on a bag of chips. She said nothing.

“Come on.” Ammona crossed the hall, and stood in front of her. “I have to go or I’ll miss the flight.” Her roommate slouched over the arm of their couch in the common room, downing comfort food.

“I kind of wish you would.” Drea made a face. “Do you have to go? The new roommate is a nightmare and we haven’t even met in person yet. Just saw the profile.” Flavor-dusted chip fragments surrounded her mouth, the remnants of crunchy comrades slain in a snack battle. Drea licked her lips.

“Your fault for not finding someone you like.”

“I didn’t have enough time!” Drea crunched down on a couple of chips she’d just shoved in her mouth. Bits of potato chip popped out, a frag grenade of sour cream and onion exploded over the carpet. “It was like, too fast after you came back from orientation.”

Ammona raised an eyebrow and smiled. “Enjoy cleaning that up later. And I don’t have enough time to sit around here while you’re moping. My flight’s gonna leave without me and you’re not stopping this.”

“I don’t care about cleaning, you know that.” Drea followed this with the projection of a chip piece onto Ammona’s jacket. “Ugh, fine.” She conceded.

“You’re gonna play it like that?” Ammona giggled and picked the chip off her jacket, flicking it into the kitchen. “Put your slippers on, no time for shoes.”

“Hope my next roommate isn’t as bossy,” Drea mumbled. She placed her crinkly bag of chips on the couch.

“Har, har.” Ammona headed down the long, clean hallway to the door. “And didn’t you say you’ve never met her? I doubt she’s a nightmare.”

“It’s not a she, it’s a he.” Drea followed Ammona down the hall.

“Wow, really? That’s surprising.” Ammona turned to the comm on the side of the door. She pushed a few keys on the panel.

“Please state your name and dock destination.” The friendly female computer voice said.

“Ammona King, Docking Bay B-12, the Luna V.” A tiny scrubbing sound emitted from the comm panel, alerting the two girls of the computer’s processing.

“Enjoy your trip, Ammona,” The computer’s voice continued. “Please go immediately to your transport station for clearance. You have one hour before departure. Average wait time for clearance is 25 minutes. Luna V boards in 30 minutes.” The voice sounded disjointed as it stumbled over the numbers in its recitation.

“Joy,” Said Ammona, pushing a button to silence the comm. “I love people digging through my shit to make sure I’m not carrying anything illegal.”

“Let’s go, you only have an hour before it takes off.” Drea stood at the door, which opened quickly to the side when it sensed her presence.

“Oh, now you’re in a hurry.” Ammona followed her roommate. For a moment she stood in the doorway, looking back down the clean, whitewashed hall that had become so familiar in the last couple of years. So strange, she thought, to leave a place I’ve known as home… For the millionth time.

“Please move away from the door.” Said the computer. A subsequent warning beep began its incessant repetition. “Please move away from the door.”

“Okay, okay.” Ammona growled. “No long farewells around here.”

“Please move away from the door.”

Drea laughed. “Duh! Computers couldn’t care less about farewells.”

With one last glance at her old home, Ammona stepped out of the way of the door and it shut. The warning beeps ceased, and the comm screen on the outside of the door went black.

“Don’t forget to format my vocal imprint.” Ammona told Drea as they walked towards an elevator that would take them to B level.

They walked down a long corridor that had apartment doors staggered across from one another on either side. After a few minutes of walking in silence, they emerged from the residential areas on their level and into the food court. Tables were scattered in a lounge area, and even at this early hour there were hundreds of people getting breakfast, chatting, or shopping. 24-hour shops and restaurants lined the walls as they approached a transport elevator. Both girls weaved between tables to skip the normal walkway, which was crowded with people going about their morning business.

“You alright?” Ammona noticed that Drea had yet to respond to her earlier remark.

“I think so.” Drea said. They approached the elevators. Thirty people stood around, waiting to take them to another deck on the ORB. “This is just so new to me. You’re the first roommate I’ve ever had. And now I have to live with some dude.”

“It will be fine. He’ll probably stay in his room a lot.” They stopped to wait in line. All around them the subtle vibration of the base resonated. The quiet hum of the central grav-core, a thrumming heartthrob in the center of the Orbital Relay Base.

“Or he’ll be the kind of guy that wants to hang out all the time, and then I’ll stay in my room a lot.” Drea said as they got onto an elevator with twelve other people.

“Maybe. There are endless possibilities. B-Level, please.” Ammona said to a person who was pressing all the buttons for the other passengers.

“If you forget to video chat me every day I swear to god I’ll come find you.”

“I wish you would!” Ammona smiled. “I’d be more than happy to have you there. You know that.”

“No thanks.” Said Drea. Her black locks bounced back and forth as she shook her head, brushing her cheeks. Ammona tried not to think about how much she was going to miss her friend. “You know I’m not that brave. I don’t want to go out into uncharted parts of space.”

“You’re already out in space, it’s not that different.”

“It is when they send you through the Gates.” Drea shuddered. “I’ve heard the stories.” She looked up at Ammona. For a moment, as they rode the elevator, they looked into each other’s eyes. Ammona didn’t want to look, but she had nothing else in the elevator to look at. She didn’t want to look away, either.

“Drea…” She started.

“Don’t.” Drea looked away. “I don’t want to hear about all the reasons you wanna do this. I know them, I’ve been listening for years.”

“It’s not about that.” Ammona started again. “It’s about needing to do it. You know I’d rather have you there with me.” She touched Drea’s arm, but the girl stepped back. Ammona felt a cold chill come over her, as Drea pulled away from her emotionally and physically. Goosebumps prickled her skin and made her even more uncomfortable.

“Here we are.” Said Drea, and they both stepped out at B Level after excusing themselves to several other passengers they pushed through. Ammona watched Drea walk towards Docking Bay B-12, and sighed.

She’s never going to get over this. Ammona thought. Not after our conversation last week.

“Are you coming, lazy butt?” Drea turned, hands on her hips, and waited.

“Yeah, I’m coming.”

The two of them walked through the food court on B Level, past shops for coffee, clothing, furniture, toys, candy, groceries, beauty products, and space gear. The huge glass windows on their left let just enough of the blinding, exposed sunlight stream into the base. They walked down the shopping hall, through some residential halls, and came out into an open space.

There were lines of people getting ready for travel clearance, and signs that pointed them towards Docking Bays B-1 through B-6 down the left hallway, and B-7 through B-12 down the right hallway. Space Travel Security Agents looked through travel bags with orange-gloved hands that matched their bright uniforms. Children wailed as they were forced to walk through the weapons detectors without a parent. Shoes, jewelry, and Personal Tech Devices were removed, and discarded into glass bins that slid through mechanical detection devices.

“You’d think they wouldn’t need this many STSA agents just for civilian travel.” Drea broke their silence.

“I think it’s because of the ship that was bombed last week. Even with all the safety efforts on the ORB, people still die because of violent idiots.” Ammona stood at the entrance to the ramp that would carry her up to clearance.

Drea looked worried.

“But I’m sure that won’t happen to me. It’s just a ship full of students.” Ammona finished.

“Sure.” Drea agreed, and looked away.

“Don’t I get a goodbye, or anything like that?” Ammona prompted. She hoped for some of Drea’s usual cheerfulness, her playful personality. “How about a smile to remember you by?”

Drea’s face twisted into annoyance, confusion, and then back to annoyance. She was unable to smile. “Don’t tell me to smile.”

Ammona looked at her friend and rolled her eyes.

“What? I don’t feel like smiling, and you shouldn’t make me.”

“I guess that’s fair.” Said Ammona, “How about a hug then?”

“I can manage a hug.” Drea said, looking up at her best friend. “But you have to promise to send me a video entry the minute you get there.”

“I’ll try.” Said Ammona. “I’m not sure what the Academy is expecting when we arrive.”

Drea stepped forward and hugged her best friend, and the two of them held on to each other for a moment.

“Everything will be okay.” Ammona said quietly, amid the bustle of other human beings and the hum of the base.

“I’m sure it will.” Drea didn’t sound like she believed her own words, but she broke away from the hug. “Now get your ass on that flight.”

“Sure thing.” Ammona grinned. “I’ll miss you.” She began walking backwards, watching Drea.

“I’ll miss you too.” Drea waved. “See you soon.” She watched as Ammona turned her back, and headed for the security line.

 


Read Part 1 of the Ammona Series

Ridiculous, curious, most likely delirious.

I love a great story, whether it comes in the form of words or visual stimuli. I believe everyone has a story to tell, and I love to share mine.

Please feel free to read along, comment, share your own stories, or send me a message via the contact page. Thanks for your time reading my words.

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House Hunting

By Corissa Haury

Yesterday morning my husband and I got out of bed at 7:15am. We were going to hunt for a house, a difficult task for any person. When it is cold, it is hard to rise from your warm cocoon of blankets. Those who live in the North have a formidable drive before them the day after a heavy snow. The roads are not all plowed. Yet as true Mainers have taught us, we kept going. You haul your ass out of bed early and you take what you need to take.

This was the fourth time we looked at houses. Four more houses today, we said to each other as we got ready to dig the car out of the snow. My husband was skeptical about this search. We had already seen other houses, and my heart was tied to one. That one house you’re not supposed to want. The house you’re not supposed to put all your emotional needs into. But it is a magnificent house, with practical answers to some of our current needs. Best of all it has the feel of an old house. There is an old kindness in the walls, some invitation to return in the framework. We weren’t sure if that was the house we should try to get, though. So we got in the car, turned up the heat, and cranked the Beastie Boys while we watched the snowy landscape whip by.

We drove along the highway up through the foothills wedged below the Central Maine mountains and above the White Mountains. We arrived 45 minutes early in the suburban town where the first house resided. Our rumbling bellies told us this would be a good time to find a diner and have some affordable, homemade breakfast. Our every wish was granted at $9 a plate. We ate our blueberry pancakes under Maine maple syrup and sipped our coffee under Elvis Presley’s blessed boulevard. His face was everywhere, the phrase The King of Rock & Roll emblazoned upon the walls of this beckoning shrine.

Breakfast

We finished breakfast and paid for the check and used the quaint bathrooms before we were on our way again. We went to the wrong address first, but found our way soon after we realized we should add another 100 to the number. We arrived to meet our agent a few minutes late. It was not long before we were examining the innards of a new house, a cute house with warm radiators and updated paint. It was nice, but small. There were possibilities here, we agreed, but fewer of them.

The second house we looked at was kept by an old man who lives in Florida. The whole place felt like an old man’s residence. There were pictures of Jean-Paul the Pope, along the walls. His blessing overshadowed a dark kitchen. The microwave had been ripped from the wall. The carpets felt old and thin. The backyard was expansive and flat, beautiful in the snow. It sloped down through the neighbor’s yard to a slow river, where we could see ice floating south in the sluggish current. The snow covered banks on either side looked picturesque. It was pretty, but impractical. We moved on.
Driving

The next place was 40 minutes southwest of our location, so we turned on the heat and headed down a series of Maine highways. One of them is a logging truck highway. We saw many trucks rocket by on the slick roads, their heavy cargo pushing them forward. During our ride the quiet snow fell and our voices were muted in the small space while we contemplated different ideas for each house. Every house has potential, but we understand each other by now. Sometimes we can tell when we walk into a house that the other person will say, “No, thank you.”

The third house was interesting. It had been a halfway house, owned by the state. It had the feel of a parsonage, with various rooms shaped like offices and a welcoming kitchen with a large hearth. The fireplace had been bricked off. The exposed wooden beams gave the ceiling a cabin-like feel. There were multiple doors into the home. It had two bathrooms, each with its own tub, and a washer and dryer. Leftover board games, furniture, and lockboxes were littered about. There was a foosball table in the dining room. The basement was dry, showing no sign of precipitation inside despite the recent intense weather. The house emanated a spirit of friendliness and hope.

It was a good house, but as my husband stopped our agent and I on the porch to talk to us, I knew what he would say. He still wanted the house I wanted more than anything we had seen so far. The house that makes the most sense, even if it isn’t 100% the kind of house we wanted at the outset. He began sharing with our agent what his thought process had been. We did not make it to the fourth house, but we did not need to. While I listened, I realized that this day was for reassuring ourselves that we knew what we wanted. There is work to do, there are chances to be taken. Nothing is certain in the house purchase process.

When you are house shopping, you are life shopping.

We did not go into the home buying process believing that we would do a lot of frustrating planning, and paperwork. We did not realize what it meant to  think practically, about what we will do in the next 10 years, and what our real long term goals are. We did not see, somehow, that it would mean a lot of compromise on both our parts. We did not know one another as well then as we do now, simply through house shopping. When you are house shopping, you are life shopping. You are setting yourself up for something different than a mere apartment or rental. You must grow, you must grapple with what you truly want for yourself.

We made some more plans for moving forward to have the place inspected and putting an offer in a few weeks down the road. Then we scrambled for the cars, which were still warm inside with residual heat.

Ridiculous, curious, most likely delirious.

I love a great story, whether it comes in the form of words or visual stimuli. I believe everyone has a story to tell, and I love to share mine.

Please feel free to read along, comment, share your own stories, or send me a message via the contact page. Thanks for your time reading my words.

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