From My Hard Drive: “Oswald Missed”

Not a chunk of something this month — a complete story!

I’m not very good at writing short fiction, as anyone who’s contemplated the spines of my books can plainly see. My brother once joked that, at under 300 pages, Bang qualifies as a “Barry Lyga short story.”

But sometimes I try my hand at short fiction. Below is a bit of flash fiction I attempted. I never managed to do anything with it, but I’ve always liked it. Check it out!

“What was it Glenn said when he landed on the moon?” the President asked. “His exact words.”

“‘I’ve taken a small step as a man, but a giant leap for Mankind,’” his Chief of Staff said, looking up abruptly from his clipboard. “Sir, we have–”

The President waved him off. “Fifteen minutes to the press conference. I know. Relax. I was just thinking… That Glenn bit. That should have been in the speech.”

The Chief of Staff chewed his bottom lip. “I can talk to–”

“No. No. Don’t bother. We’re too close now.” He stopped pacing. He was never this nervous. Never. Not even during the election. But then again, he’d never had a speech this important, this monumental to make.

“Aliens living on the moon,” he muttered. “Watching us for God knows how long?”

“Since, uh, World War II, at least.” The Chief of Staff stuttered as he picked his next words carefully. “The timeline was in the briefing book from CIA and you–”

“It was rhetorical.” The President stopped pacing long enough to gaze at the black-framed picture on his desk. “She would have been amazed by this, you know. I would give anything to have her stand by me when I announce this.” His voice trembled, then recovered, stronger than before. “To think that our neighbors have been on the moon all along. That they come in peace.” He grinned that broad, killer grin that television and photographers loved so much. It had been in short supply these past four years. Ever since that November day.

“‘That, like our forefathers,’” he went on, quoting from the speech he would give in a few minutes, “‘they have traveled long and far in search of sanctuary, and have found it on our shores.’”

He sighed, turning away from the desk and the picture. “Are the delegates here?”

“Representatives from Britain, France, Canada, Spain, and Portugal will be at the podium with you. The Soviets and Chinese are being briefed right now. Still not sure that was the right–”

The President shrugged. “They had to be briefed once we made contact. There’s more at stake here than just one country. Things have been boiling almost to the panic point ever since NASA cut off Glenn’s feed last week. We needed the time. The world’s been waiting. Now it’s time to make it real.”

“It was the right thing to do, sir. The only thing. And you’re doing the right thing now by going public. I’m just worried about the Soviet–”

That grin again. “You let me worry about the Soviets and the Chinese. They’re going to come around. You’ll see. The speechwriters did a good job on this one. We’re going to have everyone on the planet welcoming the aliens with open arms and looking at the U.S. in a new light at the same time.” He picked up the hard copy of the speech and flipped through it. “Come get me in another minute or so. I want a few moments alone.”

Once alone, the President slowly sank into his chair. His back bothered him more and more recently, though he would never admit it. That Irish stubborn streak…

Of course he was doing the right thing. Of course. It was the only option. To go public. To share the news with the whole of Mankind. To take that giant leap into a brighter and more peaceful future. We are not alone in this universe. We are not alone and the first indication of our membership in a broader universe is a hand offered in peace.

Thank God contact happened on his watch. Another year or so and he would have been out of office…and who knows how Johnson or someone else would handle this? Good Lord, who knows how Nixon would have handled it?

On a beautiful November day in 1967, President John F. Kennedy gazed again at the picture of his dead wife. He felt calm. At peace. But he couldn’t help wondering how things might have turned out for the world, how things might have been different, had not Oswald missed.

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