Helium Rising...

The party was over, and everything was quiet. That was the problem of living in a small town. Friends could only come over for a short stay. There would be an hour of running, getting in trouble, scraping knees, and telling each other what we would do when we grew-up. And then they'd have to leave, driven away by their parents, not to be seen until the next school day, and the quiet would creep in.

My parents were doing their own scraping. Each dish brushed, cake crumbs and melted vanilla ice cream found its way into the garbage. Another birthday and the same routine after. Ma and Pa talking of what I'd become. Ma wanted me to be a doctor. Dad had his heart set on lawyer. He kept talking about needing to get me into the right school, which didn't make any sense--as I was already in school and he knew that. Somehow they didn't get I was going to be an astronaut. I had told them this for the past year. All my friends knew. I was going to be the first man to walk on Mars. One small step for man, one giant leap to see a real alien. I had my heart set on it. I wanted to squish the red dust between my toes.

But my parents never seemed to listen--they just seemed to know. So I stepped out of the house, taking with me the only salvaged balloon from the helium war my friends and I had fought. Would helium have the same affect on my voice on Mars as it did here on Earth.

Yellow and floating, the balloon trailed behind me as I past the line of our back yard into the field that was part of our house. The field stretched so far, and yet I could still make out the fence line. Everything here was sectioned off. The houses distant from each other still had boundary lines. The cows could only feed so far. And then there was me being placed into the mold of doctor or lawyer. Me stuck in a small quiet town that looked open and free, and yet here I was, fenced. Everything was fenced. Everything, but my last birthday balloon.

I let the balloon slip from my hand a bit. It rose high above my head and I held on tighter. The sun was setting and the yellow plastic glowed. I saw the sky above waiting for it. Space waiting for its arrival. I wanted it to be free. I wanted to be free. So I let the string go and watched as it drifted upwards, slow and steady, and I saw the rocket. The rocket I would one day be on. I saw my feet stepping on the red dust of Mars, and I saw the green alien that would be waiting for me--yellow balloon in hand as a welcoming.

Find the Instagram photo that inspired this short bit of writing by following @jdcowboy (click on name to see photo)