“It’s like they’re claiming the moon for America.”
“The plaque says for all mankind ,” Kris pointed out.
“I know, so it ought to be an Earth flag. Or no flag at all.”
“An Earth flag! Now, that would be something,” agreed Sushila’s mother. “I can’t help thinking that all those billions of dollars this has cost would’ve been better spent on reducing poverty in Africa and India. It seems dreadful that people starve in Biafra while these colossal sums are spent on landing two men on the moon.”
“Shh, shh, here’s Richard Nixon.”
Now the President of the United States was speaking to the astronauts by telephone from the White House. “This certainly has to be the most historic phone call ever made,” he said. “For every American, this has to be the proudest thing of our lives, and for people all over the world.” It sounded like he was reading a speech. “Because of what you have done, the heavens have become a part of man’s world.”
“But they always have been,” said Ravi. “People have always looked at the stars, and tried to make sense of them.”
He immediately looked embarrassed at having said so much. A few moments later, when his mother went into the kitchen to bring in cakes and sweet pastries and coffee, he followed her out of the room, and didn’t come back. Andie guessed that he’d escaped to the attic. She was torn between carrying on watching the television, and following him outside to look at the real moon.
It was Kris who noticed next. “Where’s Ravi? I can’t believe he’s missing this!”
“Gone to bed?” Patrick said, yawning. “It’ll be hardly worth it if we stay up much longer.”
“If I know Ravi,” said Mr. Kapoor, “he’ll have gone up to the roof. He’s got a telescope now – his uncle gave it to him.”
“On the roof?” Mum looked puzzled. “How does he get up to the roof?”
Andie tried not to turn red.
“There’s a way out through the attic storeroom. It’s quite safe,” Mr. Kapoor told her. “You’ve been up there, I expect, Kris?”
“Sure,” Kris answered, then, to Andie, “How about now? I don’t think I’m going to bed at all. Coming?”
Andie followed her very quickly, before anyone could think of a reason why not.
It was already far too light for star-watching. Towards the east, along the river, the sky was pale mauvey-pink, streaked with faint cloud. The low moon was faint, silvery, two-thirds of it in shadow; present even when it appeared to dissolve into daylight. Although it was ridiculous to imagine she’d see the American flag staking its claim across a quarter of a million miles of sky, she felt reassured that the moon looked as pale and untroubled as it always had.
“Did you see them, Rav?” Kris called, as she and Andie emerged onto the walkway.
“Course! I waved at them, and they waved back.” But Ravi was removing the telescope from its mount, putting it back in its leather case.
“Hello, day.” Kris held out her arms. “It’s nice up here, isn’t it? I like the feel of the day starting up.”
“And not just any day,” said Ravi. “It’s Monday. Moon-day.”
“Happy Moonday! Hey, is this the first real Moonday? It might look just the same as any other Monday, but it’s not.”
Kris looked over the parapet. Andie and Ravi looked too, the three of them in a row, gazing down at Chelsea Walk, and beyond it to the Thames. Andie heard the hooter of a barge, the cooing of pigeons, traffic on the bridge, and a siren somewhere; she saw the leafy canopy of trees, the grass below; a dog out walking by himself, and strings of lights along the Embankment; she smelled the faintest tang of salt. It all felt fresh and brand new in the cool air of dawn.
She wanted to catch and keep this moment.
But I’ll always remember, she thought, even when I’m ancient and a grandmother. The day I stood on the roof with Kris and Ravi, and watched London wake up, and there were men on the
“The plaque says for all mankind ,” Kris pointed out.
“I know, so it ought to be an Earth flag. Or no flag at all.”
“An Earth flag! Now, that would be something,” agreed Sushila’s mother. “I can’t help thinking that all those billions of dollars this has cost would’ve been better spent on reducing poverty in Africa and India. It seems dreadful that people starve in Biafra while these colossal sums are spent on landing two men on the moon.”
“Shh, shh, here’s Richard Nixon.”
Now the President of the United States was speaking to the astronauts by telephone from the White House. “This certainly has to be the most historic phone call ever made,” he said. “For every American, this has to be the proudest thing of our lives, and for people all over the world.” It sounded like he was reading a speech. “Because of what you have done, the heavens have become a part of man’s world.”
“But they always have been,” said Ravi. “People have always looked at the stars, and tried to make sense of them.”
He immediately looked embarrassed at having said so much. A few moments later, when his mother went into the kitchen to bring in cakes and sweet pastries and coffee, he followed her out of the room, and didn’t come back. Andie guessed that he’d escaped to the attic. She was torn between carrying on watching the television, and following him outside to look at the real moon.
It was Kris who noticed next. “Where’s Ravi? I can’t believe he’s missing this!”
“Gone to bed?” Patrick said, yawning. “It’ll be hardly worth it if we stay up much longer.”
“If I know Ravi,” said Mr. Kapoor, “he’ll have gone up to the roof. He’s got a telescope now – his uncle gave it to him.”
“On the roof?” Mum looked puzzled. “How does he get up to the roof?”
Andie tried not to turn red.
“There’s a way out through the attic storeroom. It’s quite safe,” Mr. Kapoor told her. “You’ve been up there, I expect, Kris?”
“Sure,” Kris answered, then, to Andie, “How about now? I don’t think I’m going to bed at all. Coming?”
Andie followed her very quickly, before anyone could think of a reason why not.
It was already far too light for star-watching. Towards the east, along the river, the sky was pale mauvey-pink, streaked with faint cloud. The low moon was faint, silvery, two-thirds of it in shadow; present even when it appeared to dissolve into daylight. Although it was ridiculous to imagine she’d see the American flag staking its claim across a quarter of a million miles of sky, she felt reassured that the moon looked as pale and untroubled as it always had.
“Did you see them, Rav?” Kris called, as she and Andie emerged onto the walkway.
“Course! I waved at them, and they waved back.” But Ravi was removing the telescope from its mount, putting it back in its leather case.
“Hello, day.” Kris held out her arms. “It’s nice up here, isn’t it? I like the feel of the day starting up.”
“And not just any day,” said Ravi. “It’s Monday. Moon-day.”
“Happy Moonday! Hey, is this the first real Moonday? It might look just the same as any other Monday, but it’s not.”
Kris looked over the parapet. Andie and Ravi looked too, the three of them in a row, gazing down at Chelsea Walk, and beyond it to the Thames. Andie heard the hooter of a barge, the cooing of pigeons, traffic on the bridge, and a siren somewhere; she saw the leafy canopy of trees, the grass below; a dog out walking by himself, and strings of lights along the Embankment; she smelled the faintest tang of salt. It all felt fresh and brand new in the cool air of dawn.
She wanted to catch and keep this moment.
But I’ll always remember, she thought, even when I’m ancient and a grandmother. The day I stood on the roof with Kris and Ravi, and watched London wake up, and there were men on the
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