The Man On The Moon

Below a rough outcrop of ancient rock a lonely figure sat sheltered from the brisk November wind. Ole John Ruffin slowing turned a spit made from an old rusty coat hanger which impaled a scrawny rabbit. He bent a little closer to smell the progress of the dinner that included a large tin can containing boiling potatoes and a small skillet cooking a corn meal Johnny cake. The inspection proved the meal was nearly ready so he looked out across the played out cornfield below.

The huge rising full Moon covered the field with magical silver light. Ruffin listened as the wind picked up and blew through the dried stalks, sounding like a plague of giant insects. From time to time a laugh or heave or grunt interrupted nature’s symphony.

“Boys, Come eat. It’s nearly done!” he shouted

Two ragged children emerged from the cornfield winded but still arguing. Ruffin paid no attention as they sat on an old log next to the fire. He spread husks in front of each of them and divided the potatoes, rabbit, and steaming hot coarse cornbread. The old man took care to take the burned portion of the cake and give his older grandson a little more than his third of the long awaited meal.

After a short prayer the three ravaged their way through the food, too hungry for any manners. Besides the food was too rough - lacking even salt - to enjoy the taste.

“Thanks Grampa.” eight year old Bubs offered even though still hungry. Roy muttered the same and return to the bored and insolent expression nearly universal among fourteen year olds.

“Grampa,” Bubs began softly, sneaking a peak towards the brother he knew he was about to provoke. “Can you tell us about the Man on the Mooooon?”

Roy jumped immediately to his feet in protest. “Ever damned night you ask for that stupid story Bubs an I ain’t hearin’ it again.”

“Pleeez Grampa!” The boy begged, ignoring the escalating tantrum.

“I ain’t hearin’ it!” Roy insisted and jumped to his feet. He began pacing by the fire. “All my life I heared about teevees n cars n places you could go where people in funny hats just handed ya all the food you could it and I ain’t believin' a word of it!”

“But we seen pittures!” little Bubs insisted.

“I know, I know.” Roy insisted, wrestling with his anger. “I seen plenty a car and not nary a one moved. Uhn them teevees just sit there and never make me laugh or cry. And there ain’t nothing’ gonna make me believe people just flew all over in aeroplanes in the sky”

Bubs and Grampa John sat and waited for the tantrum to play itself out as they always did. Roy kicked about for a few moments then sat beside his brother.

“Sorry Bubs,” Roy said knowing that the stories gave solace to his little brother who never complained about an empty belly or the cold. “Go ahead Grampa; tell us about the Man on the Moon.”

On cue John Ruffin began. “It was a long time ago when I was about yer age Bubs…”

The younger boy listened raptly, interrupting only with questions he already knew the answer to. Roy looked around at nothing in particular nervously.

“… and my mom called me in to watch. She said I couldn’t miss what the whole world was watching…”

“On the teevee.” Roy muttered with adolescent derision.

“That’s right Roy. On television. And she got me an ice cold Co-Cola from the icebox.” Ruffin continued, his eyes nearly glazing over at the thought of such a forgotten treat. “It was sweeter than honey and so cold that little beads of sweat dripped off it…”

Bubs and his grandfather seemed nearly oblivious to the cold as he continued the story. “And Colonel Armstrong stepped off the ship…”

“Yeah, somebody sailed a big ole boat all the ways to the moon!” Roy interrupted.

“It wasn’t that kinda ship boy!” Grampa reminded him tersely. Roy knew better than to offer more barbs. “ And when he stepped off he said ‘ it’s a big step for a man, but a bigger step for all mankind.’ “

With that Roy reached up and slapped the back of his brother’s head. “Yer the Man on the Moon!” he teased while jumping and dodging the arms of the littler boy. The two took off towards the corn field, dancing and dodging, and laughing.

John Ruffin watched them disappear among the cornstalks. He heard Bubs insist “I ain’t the Man on the Moon, YER the Man on the Moon!” He raised his eyes just a twitch to gather in the entire bright white globe above the field.

“Gawd, I could really use a Co-Cola”

(Rededicated to Neal Armstrong on the day he travelled farther than the moon)