COSMIC SUGAR

Nobody can hear a scream in the vacuum of space, or so they say. Not even a whisper. No oxygen means no particles to reverberate sound. It is deafening silence within eternal darkness. This is what frightened Rachel more than anything. Yet, she had chosen to face this fear, and dive into its guttural center.

Haunted by the death of her father, Rachel often had a recurring dream of him in orbit. In her dream, she is suspended in space, aimlessly searching for him, but only darkness surrounds her. Her body is spinning - accelerating faster and faster until he drifts into sight. His helmet is cracked, and his face is covered in crystallized condensation from sub-zero temperatures. All the warmth that once embraced her had escaped from his wintered body. The tips of their fingers almost graze each other, like Michelangelo's "Creation of Adam", before he slinks further into oblivion. She tries to scream but no sound escapes her lips. Just before she wakes, his image fades into a hazy red mist, and all she can hear is a faraway echo of his voice calling her name.

The sweetest scent of cherry blossoms drifts through the kitchen window, like a visit from an old friend. The kettle, sitting atop the stove, whistles confidently; a bone china tea cup awaits in readiness to be filled. Rachel, leaning against the kitchen island, tips her head back to expose her face to the incandescence of the morning light. She lifts her arms above her head and stretches them toward the low ceiling. Despite the warmth and comfort of the morning ambiance, Rachel can't help but feel a churning sickness in the pit of her stomach. It is the anniversary of the day she learned her father would never return from his mission to Mars. Three years ago, it was ambiguously explained to her, by proxy, that he had been unreachable for several days and was presumed deceased. The shock of the news ripped through her like scissors to tissue paper. Since his body was never found, his remains now lived in the treasure trove of her mind. “Rachel! Come sit with me.” he would say when he had something to edify. His wisdom ran deep but his kindness was what she remembered most. Rachel would embrace every precious memory of him, but over time those memories became more difficult to access. Peppered with bouts of deep seeded grief, she became detached and untrusting, almost bitter. The visceral pulpiness of her sorrow eventually lead her down a solitary path. A path submerged in thick black oil, almost impossible to trudge through. For years she had been fighting the Devil on her back, but she needed strength to subdue the sharp-horned brute, a strength unknown to her. She wanted to heal. She wanted to blossom as her father had always said she would, but as each long year passed, Rachel found herself in the bosom of her fallen angel, cemented in what felt like purgatory.

As time ticks on, Rachel drags herself around the house, feeling displaced in every corner. Weighted thoughts of her father's last moments alone, fill her mind like an overflowed bathtub. She remembers the pin she gave him when she was five. After he died, Rachel was given a photo of him, just before he left for his last mission. It warmed her heart to know that after all these years, he still wore it on his explorations. The pin read COSMIC SUGAR in a pink, sparkly font. She found the pin in the COSMIC SUGAR cereal box she had for breakfast every morning. She loved that particular cereal because it had tiny planet-shaped marshmallows, all deliciously sugar-coated. She would imagine her father's little body swirling around in the bowl of milk, orbiting Saturn or Mars. Sometimes she would laugh and wave, remembering what he taught her about the Milky Way. In her young mind, the planets in the milk and the very galaxy where she existed, were one and the same.

As sunset fades to twilight, Rachel sits in quiet discontentment on her cushionless, vermillion sofa. On the coffee table in front of her, a candle burns to honor her father, as tears of wax collect at the base. After a while, Rachel lifts her tired body off the sofa and stumbles down the hallway with the candle to light her way. As she tucks herself into bed, she whispers a sweet "Goodnight Papa", before extinguishing the flame, and slinking down under the cool sheets. Half asleep, she reaches out to the empty side of the bed in preparation for her recurring dream, hoping she would feel her father's hand in hers this time. Suddenly, her foot feels something at the end of the bed, first thinking it must be her cat Giusepee, but instantly realizing it’s something much bigger. Fear stiffens her spine, causing her body to lay still and quiet. Her mind races with horrible thoughts, as if in a state of sleep paralysis. She can hear breathing that she knows is not hers - heavy and muffled. Forcing her eyes wide open, she peers down at the end of the bed, and sitting, facing away from her, is her father. She must be dreaming. He can’t really be there. This can’t be real! “Dad?” Rachel whispers with a dry throat, as tears well up in her eyes. She quickly swings her lifeless legs out from beneath the sheets and collapses on the cold hardwood floor. In disbelief, she slowly stands and inches closer to him, eventually leaning over to remove his helmet. She observes his frosted face, and searches his unfamiliar eyes for some form of life, as she places her hands on each of his cheeks. "Is it really you?" she says in a trembling exhale.

Soft morning light ebbs and flows on the bedroom floor, as Rachel’s eyelids flutter open. "It must have been a dream." her glum inner voice admits. A sizzling pain erupts in the center of her chest, as she falls to the floor near the bed, where her father sat. After a while, she hears a small sound beneath the bed. Gently, she places her head parallel to the floor. Guisepee is fully stretched out, while his rumbling purrs reverberate through the floorboards. Suddenly, her eyes catch the glimmer of something unusual. Guisepee paws at it, tossing it out from under the bed. Her father's pin sparkles pink in a smooth stream of sunlight. In Rachel's tired eyes, it isn't just the pin staring back at her, it is hope.

****

Rachel sits at her kitchen table with the pin placed in front of her. Puzzled and frightened at the notion that either her father was there last night, or she is losing her mind. The ladder would be easier to prove. There is no way the pin can be there, and yet she can touch it and wear it, and even prick her finger with it. It is real. The day drags on once again and the idea of night inching closer is both thrilling and terrifying.

The hands on Rachel’s watch slam closer to 10 pm, pushing fear and anxiety to the forefront of her mind. Sitting in bed, she waits for something, anything to happen. The only sound she hears is Guisepee snoring at the end of the bed. Rachel’s eyelids fight to stay open but eventually ease into a light slumber. Suddenly, blinding lights fill the room, waking Rachel in a panic. She slides to the floor and slithers under the bed. The whole room is bright white, like a blanket of snow had been draped over everything. A clinking noise of what sounds like metal boots fills her twitching ears. Uncertain of where the sound is coming from, she closes her eyes to try and focus but is overwhelmed with an intense premonition that she is moments away from death. White turns to black as her pounding heartbeat squeezes through every vein in her body. Rachel waits for what seems like an eternity before she reaches her hand out from under the bed. As her head reaches the threshold of the bed, she feels something with her hand. She rolls out and quickly stands, as a numbing sense of fear washes over her. There is a figure standing by the door - this time it is not her father. It turns towards her. Its face is emitting an aura of colors she had never seen before - intrinsically mesmerizing. Rachel's lungs suddenly feel breathless, like all the air has been siphoned out. She steps back with her hand on her chest, and nowhere to run.

“There is no need to be frightened. I will not harm you.”

“Who are you? Why are you here?!”

“I am from a planet not far from yours. I am here to take you there. Your father is waiting for you.”