The River
Illustration
Stories
“Have you thought about what pose you’d like?”
Morgan Cashmore straightened up from her crouch, peering into the transmission of Number 3 Drill, and bumped her head on the inspection panel, uttered a mild curse and rubbed the back of her head for a moment while she looked across the compartment to her companion. Wally Sarkasian looked back at her impassively, blinked once or twice before she finally said, “What did you say?”
“I said, have you thought about what pose you’d like?”
She stopped rubbing her head, lowered the inspection panel and began to bolt it shut. “What on earth are you talking about?” she asked without looking at him.
“You know — the pose. What pose do you want for your statue? There’s the classic one — ” he stood up straight, placed his right hand inside his shirt, slipping it between a couple of buttons so it rested over his heart. After a few moments he pulled his hand out and continued, “Me, I kind of like something different — the visionary.” He raised the hand so it shielded his eyes from a non-existent sun.
Morgan snorted, raised one hand to suggest a different and highly informal pose, then stepped across the compartment to a monitor on the wall, studied the figures that were being displayed there. Her heart began to beat a little faster as she keyed them into a tablet.
“I’m serious,” Wally insisted, his voice a little wounded. “They are going to put up statues in our honor. Children are going to look up at us and wish they could be heroes, too; adults are going to rub our noses for good luck.”
Morgan snorted again, this time without looking up. “Who is ‘they,’ and where are these statues going to be?”
“They are the future citizens of Luna City — the first city on the moon. And that’s where the statues are going to be, too — right smack in the middle of Luna City Square. Maybe they can put me on a horse,” he added thoughtfully.
She looked up, now, and ran one hand through her short, curly hair, thoughtfully toyed with the ends of it. “Well — now I understand. But there are a few problems with that whole picture, Wally. One: there’s no Luna City. Armstrong Station is the biggest settlement on the moon, and it’s got barely a hundred and ninety people. Two: since there’s no Luna City, there’s no Luna City Square. Oh — and three — you and I are just peons working for the Lunar Development Corporation.”
“And Lewis and Clarke were peons, working for Thomas Jefferson. You have no sense of history, Morgan. And no soul, from the sounds of things.” He made an expansive gesture that took in the whole crater on the other side of the pressure hull. “I’ve been watching you. I know what’s going on. I know what you’ve found--ice…the most valuable item on this dusty, miserable rock we call home. Forget iron or gold, forget Helium 3 — water is where the action is. With it, anything is possible — we can crack it to make fuel and oxygen, we can use it to drink, we can do a million other things with it…once we have it. Water is going to make this rock livable — and once that happens, Luna City is only a matter of time. There’ll be thousands of people up here, making new life bloom where there was nothing but sterile rock and dust before.” He tapped his chest. “I can feel it — in here. You’ve sniffed out the big one, haven’t you?”
Morgan smiled. “About thirty meters down, right out that window — ” She gestured toward the front window of the module. “It really is the big one. If these figures are right — and I’ve just double checked them — there’s a pocket of ice about two thousand meters in diameter and a hundred meters thick.” She held the tablet out to him. “It’s a game changer, at least eighty percent water. You know what that means.”
Wally nodded. “It means we can make this rock livable. With that kind of water, we can self-support our settlements. We can have agriculture, and power, and no more rationed water — we can bring this rock to life!"
Morgan nodded thoughtfully, adding, “I am about to do a new thing…I will make a way in the wilderness and rivers in the desert.”
Wally looked at her, head tilted slightly. “What’s that?”
She smiled. “Just something my grandfather used to quote. It’s from Isaiah — Old Testament Bible. He used to talk about how God could bring hope anywhere, even in the midst of hopelessness, just like he brought water to the wilderness and brought it to life.”
“Weird, but OK. I guess I get it.”
“Do you? I know you were joking about the statues, before — ”
“Was I?”
“ — but all this was just making me think…I mean, we’re going to get credit for this discovery…but it’s not like we put it here. It’s not like we somehow produced the ice. We just found it. God, the universe — whatever you want to call it — that’s who put it here, and made life possible. I’m thinking we should be more thankful, and not be working so hard at patting ourselves on the back.”
Wally considered her words, then shook his head. “You just have a way of sucking the joy out of a situation, do you know that? We make the biggest discovery in the last eighty years — and you do this. What is wrong with you, Doctor Cashmore?”
She shrugged, smiled slightly. “I guess I just hear Grandpa Cashmore whispering in my ear, all of a sudden. You know, I remember him telling me about this time when he was a young man drilling for water in Central America — he said he always felt a little guilty when the natives would be so grateful, because he just drilled…he didn’t put the water there. It was God bringing life to the desert, not him. So he — ”
Wally held up a hand. “Enough. I’ve heard enough. Just tell me this.”
Morgan looked at him curiously.
“You secretly want the statue, don’t you? So your future kids will see it, and know it was their Mom — ”
She didn’t hear the rest — she was busy reporting the discovery to their controllers at Armstrong Station.
Morgan Cashmore straightened up from her crouch, peering into the transmission of Number 3 Drill, and bumped her head on the inspection panel, uttered a mild curse and rubbed the back of her head for a moment while she looked across the compartment to her companion. Wally Sarkasian looked back at her impassively, blinked once or twice before she finally said, “What did you say?”
“I said, have you thought about what pose you’d like?”
She stopped rubbing her head, lowered the inspection panel and began to bolt it shut. “What on earth are you talking about?” she asked without looking at him.
“You know — the pose. What pose do you want for your statue? There’s the classic one — ” he stood up straight, placed his right hand inside his shirt, slipping it between a couple of buttons so it rested over his heart. After a few moments he pulled his hand out and continued, “Me, I kind of like something different — the visionary.” He raised the hand so it shielded his eyes from a non-existent sun.
Morgan snorted, raised one hand to suggest a different and highly informal pose, then stepped across the compartment to a monitor on the wall, studied the figures that were being displayed there. Her heart began to beat a little faster as she keyed them into a tablet.
“I’m serious,” Wally insisted, his voice a little wounded. “They are going to put up statues in our honor. Children are going to look up at us and wish they could be heroes, too; adults are going to rub our noses for good luck.”
Morgan snorted again, this time without looking up. “Who is ‘they,’ and where are these statues going to be?”
“They are the future citizens of Luna City — the first city on the moon. And that’s where the statues are going to be, too — right smack in the middle of Luna City Square. Maybe they can put me on a horse,” he added thoughtfully.
She looked up, now, and ran one hand through her short, curly hair, thoughtfully toyed with the ends of it. “Well — now I understand. But there are a few problems with that whole picture, Wally. One: there’s no Luna City. Armstrong Station is the biggest settlement on the moon, and it’s got barely a hundred and ninety people. Two: since there’s no Luna City, there’s no Luna City Square. Oh — and three — you and I are just peons working for the Lunar Development Corporation.”
“And Lewis and Clarke were peons, working for Thomas Jefferson. You have no sense of history, Morgan. And no soul, from the sounds of things.” He made an expansive gesture that took in the whole crater on the other side of the pressure hull. “I’ve been watching you. I know what’s going on. I know what you’ve found--ice…the most valuable item on this dusty, miserable rock we call home. Forget iron or gold, forget Helium 3 — water is where the action is. With it, anything is possible — we can crack it to make fuel and oxygen, we can use it to drink, we can do a million other things with it…once we have it. Water is going to make this rock livable — and once that happens, Luna City is only a matter of time. There’ll be thousands of people up here, making new life bloom where there was nothing but sterile rock and dust before.” He tapped his chest. “I can feel it — in here. You’ve sniffed out the big one, haven’t you?”
Morgan smiled. “About thirty meters down, right out that window — ” She gestured toward the front window of the module. “It really is the big one. If these figures are right — and I’ve just double checked them — there’s a pocket of ice about two thousand meters in diameter and a hundred meters thick.” She held the tablet out to him. “It’s a game changer, at least eighty percent water. You know what that means.”
Wally nodded. “It means we can make this rock livable. With that kind of water, we can self-support our settlements. We can have agriculture, and power, and no more rationed water — we can bring this rock to life!"
Morgan nodded thoughtfully, adding, “I am about to do a new thing…I will make a way in the wilderness and rivers in the desert.”
Wally looked at her, head tilted slightly. “What’s that?”
She smiled. “Just something my grandfather used to quote. It’s from Isaiah — Old Testament Bible. He used to talk about how God could bring hope anywhere, even in the midst of hopelessness, just like he brought water to the wilderness and brought it to life.”
“Weird, but OK. I guess I get it.”
“Do you? I know you were joking about the statues, before — ”
“Was I?”
“ — but all this was just making me think…I mean, we’re going to get credit for this discovery…but it’s not like we put it here. It’s not like we somehow produced the ice. We just found it. God, the universe — whatever you want to call it — that’s who put it here, and made life possible. I’m thinking we should be more thankful, and not be working so hard at patting ourselves on the back.”
Wally considered her words, then shook his head. “You just have a way of sucking the joy out of a situation, do you know that? We make the biggest discovery in the last eighty years — and you do this. What is wrong with you, Doctor Cashmore?”
She shrugged, smiled slightly. “I guess I just hear Grandpa Cashmore whispering in my ear, all of a sudden. You know, I remember him telling me about this time when he was a young man drilling for water in Central America — he said he always felt a little guilty when the natives would be so grateful, because he just drilled…he didn’t put the water there. It was God bringing life to the desert, not him. So he — ”
Wally held up a hand. “Enough. I’ve heard enough. Just tell me this.”
Morgan looked at him curiously.
“You secretly want the statue, don’t you? So your future kids will see it, and know it was their Mom — ”
She didn’t hear the rest — she was busy reporting the discovery to their controllers at Armstrong Station.
*****************************************
StoryShare, March 7, 2019, issue.
Copyright 2019 by CSS Publishing Company, Inc., Lima, Ohio.
All rights reserved. Subscribers to the StoryShare service may print and use this material as it was intended in sermons, in worship and classroom settings, in brief devotions, in radio spots, and as newsletter fillers. No additional permission is required from the publisher for such use by subscribers only. Inquiries should be addressed to permissions@csspub.com or to Permissions, CSS Publishing Company, Inc., 5450 N. Dixie Highway, Lima, Ohio 45807.
