Jupiter Dreams (Short Story)

‘Just think, I’m looking at it now and it’s the end of my beginning,’ Jess paused for a sip of steaming hot chocolate, ‘but the next time it’ll be this close to earth, it’ll probably be the beginning of my end.’

I glanced across at my daughter, sat on a garden chair beside me. Cocooned in her favourite fluffy red blanket, white wisps of her breath filled the night air. Lost in thought, she gazed into the star-filled inky black skies overhead.

Jess seemed to make a habit of stunning me into silence with insight way beyond her tender years and so I offered no response to what she had said. To comment would have brought about a discussion neither of us wanted.

It was earlier that day I’d read about Jupiter being in its closest position to the earth for many years. A childhood fascination with space had never left me and so there I was, wrapped up like an Eskimo, enthralled by what was nothing more than a slightly larger-than-usual star.

For as long as I could remember I’d been captivated by the spectacle that was our night sky. Over the years, it had been my comfort blanket, the place I went to for reassurance. As it paraded its wonders before me, feeding my imagination, it broke down the barriers overwhelming everyday life. Where others encountered questions, I found only answers.

I hadn’t been outside for long before Jess had joined me. I’ve no doubt it was a ploy to delay the impending bedtime deadline, but as I looked at her I wondered if she was drawing the same inspiration from the heavens I always had.

It had inspired me when, as a young child, I’d sneak out of bed to gaze in awe at the dimpled grey surface of the moon through a shiny blue telescope my parents could ill afford. It had inspired me in my early teens as I sat glued to the television set, eager to hear any news about the Space Shuttle missions, and it had inspired me when, at fifteen, the same age as Jess, my father and I sat on the grassy banks of the highest hill we could find and watched Halley’s Comet race past the earth on its seventy six year round trip of the solar system.

Was that moment the end of my beginning? How could it have been when I was on the cusp of life, my head full of hopes and dreams for a future as bright as that comet streaking across the sky? With its glorious tail trailing behind it, I knew that when I saw it again I was going to have so much to tell it. And I was certain I’d see it again, even though I’d be an old lady when it next graced us with its presence.

I looked up at the moon, that brilliant beacon of the night, and smiled as I remembered how I used to imagine myself as the first woman ever to land on its surface. A lofty ambition I admit, but had I failed in life because the dreams I’d had at fifteen hadn’t been realised? My plans for adventure and discovery had petered out to a life of relative mediocrity. After all, I shuffled papers in an office, and spent the rest of my time wrestling with a never-ending list of mundane chores.

I certainly didn’t feel like a failure, but perhaps I was a little sad. Not for the youth that was lost, but for the dreams that went with it. When had I stopped having them? I could still dream, couldn’t I? After all, there were almost fifty years left before Halley’s Comet came to visit again and I could live a lot of life in those fifty years.

So perhaps now was the true end of my beginning? Not when I was sat on that hill. Maybe now was the time to start chasing my dreams, because I was sure that I still had them. They were lurking somewhere beneath the humdrum of daily life.

With one final, appreciative look at the sky, I reached over and took hold of Jess’s hand.

 ‘Shall we go in?’ I whispered.

She nodded her response and I followed her indoors, eager to become lost in my dreams once more.