Just clearing 5'6" and blessed with nicely feminine curviness, Claire, just two months shy of her twenty-first birthday, was a pretty woman. Long brown hair framed an oval peaches and cream face, the hazel eyes clear and bright. She was a nice girl, a girl who would give you her last dollar if you needed it. But she had a defiant streak that too often met the business end of her parents' stronghand tactics. She has a mind of her own, but felt the need to clamp down on her thoughts and feelings just to shut up her folks. And now, she had to clam up all during this wedding preparations, something she really never wanted. Maybe, Claire thought, she was getting paid back for what happened in college. She was this close to graduating and on her way to law school the following year, when she decided to take part in a student action. Claire rued the day she did such a thing.
It was during her senior year, and the school was on the verge of canceling its women's studies program. So many years away from home, away from her folks' stifling influences, Claire imbibed much more liberal opinions on everything from race relations to feminism. She became more aware of the very causes her parents had eschewed: environmental issues, gay and lesbian rights, women's issues, affordable and equitable access to health care. Claire's changing opinions and values became so entrenched that she decided a career in law was the best route if she wanted to dedicate her life to social justice. But it all came crashing down the moment she took part in that protest against the university.
When her folks saw Claire's picture plastered on Page One of the local newspaper, they immediately cut off the money. Claire couldn't believe this! Their reasoning? "No daughter of ours will take part in radical politics," her father said irately during an particularly intense phone call. "You make your choice: Obey us, change your major to something more suitable, or quit school and get a real job." No doubt Howard and Emily Brown never cottoned to Claire's choice of post-secondary school nor did they approve of her chosen major: sociology. Too radical and leftist, so they claimed. Claire could, if she wanted, just wrest herself from her parents' controlling nature, support herself and pay for her own education. But things didn't work out like that. Her life was one big orchestrated affair what with her parents calling the shots from pre-school onwards.
Claire felt she had no life, so it was drop out of school, find a job she enjoyed, then find a way to get out from under. Once she quit school, she found a job as a classroom assistant and tutor at an elementary school far from her parents' home. She earned enough to afford an apartment that was, unfortunately, just a short drive away from her folks. But Claire took it all in stride, knowing that one day, somehow, she would at last be free of her oppressive, repressive family.
So how did Claire, who valued independence but never got it, find herself in a bridal shoppe arguing with her mother over bridesmaid dresses and the like? Thank her father for introducing Claire to Van Allen, an up and coming businessman who had his sights set on politics. It was reasoned that, given Van's conservative leanings and no-nonsense approach to business and life, Claire would come to her senses and settle into a 'respectable' life. That meant she would have to discard all the newfound independence, the progressive politics and ideology, and become a model wife and mother of the 1950's suburban mold. Yes, her parents were that old-fashioned, hopelessly stuck in an era that was no more. Naturally, Claire had argued with them that their worldview was so narrow, and that things have changed, most for the better, but they could not be swayed.
Ugh! And to think I have to give up all I believe in, everything I now hold dear just to keep peace within the family. There has to be more to life than this. Anything would be better than what I got.
*****
Once she returned home – alone, Claire flipped through bridal magazines, drooling over those modern strapless, slim-fitting gowns. But no, says Mom, they're too revealing and unladylike. Besides, you can wear my gown. Oh yeah, thought Claire, the WHITE one with all the lace and heavy satin, the one that covers me from neck to toe so NOTHING is revealed. I have to stay pristine, untouched, or else my husband-to-be will think he's getting 'damaged goods'.
"To Hell with this!," Claire said out loud to no one. "I'm calling the shots
here; after all, it's MY wedding." She got up and picked up the phone. After
waiting out a few rings, the answering machine kicked in. Claire, clearly
annoyed that her mother would surely object to her choice of maid of honor, left
the message:
"Pansie, it's Claire. Say, are you still interested in being my maid of honor? I know what Mom will say, but I don't care. Meet me for lunch tomorrow around one. We'll talk then."
There! Claire, her courage returning tenfold, finally and flat-out determined that no one would ruin what was supposed to be HER day. But that sick, doubtful feeling came over her again. What if she is making the biggest mistake of her life? She really didn't love Van, although he insisted that she would come to love and respect him as they grew as a couple. Love and respect him? What is this? A throwback to the days when parents arranged their daughters' marriages to anyone who was important or rich enough? That's it! I'm through with playing games. I'll have to stand up to them, tell them that I no longer kowtow to their stupid rules and wishes. I'm an adult, and I have to stop letting them treat me like a child.
She went out on the balcony of her apartment that overlooked the river and distant downtown skyline. How she wanted to be part of that exciting world where people lead their lives as they saw fit. No one to answer to, no one to tell them their life choices are foolish or wrong. Claire looked up at the flawlessly beautiful night sky then caught a glimpse of what she believed to be a falling star. Although she didn't believe in it, she made a wish anyway. Silently she recited, "Oh, I wish for some way, any way, to get out of this mess. All I want is my life back, away from my folks' backwardness, away from the man who I know will drain me of what is left of my dignity and strength."
That falling star's light pulsated and seemed to grow brighter. In a way, Claire had hoped her wish would come true thus unchaining her from a life that was not of her choosing.
*****
Cruising across the galaxy towards a reddish, unknown planet, the crew of the deep-space explorer StarSeeker tried in vain to correct the malfunction that blew the ship off-course. This was to be a routine exploration voyage to discover new energy sources, but something went wrong when the ship was put in hyper-drive. Hurtling out of control, the StarSeeker, an older ship of the Edevian fleet, sent its precious crew far from its home star system. Now the crew had to make things right again, but as Darelia, the ship's captain, said, it would take many days, which they didn't have. Fuel and supplies began to run low, and the crew would have to find a suitable planet on which to land.
"Any information on this one?," asked Darelia, a tall stunning redhead dressed in her tight shiny midnight blue uniform.
"Far too unsuitable, Captain," replied First Mate Zema, another beautiful Edevian who scanned the monitor for more information about the nearby red planet. Zema frowned as the numbers flashed over the monitor. This is not good, thought the First Mate, who relayed this information to Darelia. "The planet is totally unsuitable to sustain life. Atmosphere is mostly carbon dioxide...surface temperature ranges from -20°C to -140°C..."
Darelia shook her head, saying, "No, it won't support us. We have to
look elsewhere." Then the ship's third in command, Major Aia, approached Darelia
with good news. "I finally found the cause of the malfunction, and it is now
repaired. I believe if we hurry, we can return to Edev with minimum loss of
fuel..."
"No!," came the reply from the commander's chair. All looked up to see
their chief commanding officer, Aarien, return to her station on the ship's
bridge. How many days had it been since Aarien ever set foot on the bridge? Not
since they embarked on this voyage, thought Darelia. Aarien, ever since losing
her lover to a vicious rebellious mob back on Edev, had been down in the dumps.
She only took on this expedition in order to forget the past and move on with
her life. But that absolution never came. She resigned herself to her own
depression.
It was Darelia who approached her first. "Commander, we have the
StarSeeker repaired. If we put the ship in hyper-drive now, we can make it
back home in record time..."
Aarien shook her pretty head. "No, I said." Once
the commander's mind was made up there was no changing it. Taking a deep breath,
she turned to Zema, asking, "And are there other, more livable planets besides
this one? For the life of me, I haven't seen a star system so devoid of
sustainable life...We've passed how many since? Six? Seven? And not one is
capable of supporting life?"
"Uh, Commander Aarien," said Zema, "there is one
more planet not far from this one. I can do a quick check..."
Aarien merely
waved her hand, saying impatiently, "Then scan for life forms, and be quick about
it!" Darelia, growing weary of Aarien's demands, said, "Commander, we are low on
fuel and supplies. If we don't send the ship in hyper-drive, thus returning home
in record time..."
"I know that!," answered the commander, "But there is
something about this system that intrigues me. Who knows? Perhaps this next
planet may have just what we've come to seek."
And with that, Aarien, rising from her chair, went to the monitor as the next planet, a little blue ball swirled in white clouds, came into view. Peering at the image on the monitor, an almost psychic feeling came over her. As she listened to Zema's disclose information about this yet unknown world, Aarien began to feel much better. Yes, she thought with satisfaction, this world may be a boon for me, for my crew. I can feel someone calling to me, wanting me to come to this place...
Zema's voice perked up, her eyes glowing with much "The planet is...Oh my, Commander Aarien, you were right! It DOES sustain life!" She read off the figures flashing on the monitor. "The planet's atmosphere...let's see...78% nitrogen, 1% oxygen, argon...temperature ranges from 58°C to -89°C...varied climate and landforms...Ah, much like our world...much is inhabitable...population is around 5 billion...mostly nation-states..."
A curious Aarien listened then ordered Darelia to, "Set course for this planet. I will choose where we land." As soon as the StarSeeker hurtled towards that compelling little blue ball, Aarien felt those vibes grow stronger and stronger, wondering what force was pulling her towards this particular world. After Aarien was assured of the ship's progress, she returned to her quarters, rejoicing that, for the first time in more than eight months, something wonderful was about to happen.
TO BE CONTINUED...go to chapter 2
Copyright©2004 by Pepper Shriver* (PRP)
*My pen name
:-)