The Gravity of Us

by Phil Stamper

  “Sorry,” he whispers. “I know it’s awkward with all the cameras.”

  “Anyway,” Kat says, regaining some of her composure. Her voice is soft, like she’s no longer performing for an audience. “The van at ten-o’-clock? That’s StarWatch. And they’re going to insist on interviewing the family.”

  StarWatch is here. It takes a while for it to settle in. Will their cameras be on me? How is Mom going to handle the constant attention? How much will it take for Dad’s composure to break?

  “And we were thinking,” Leon says, “there’s a path that goes between our houses that the reporters can’t use. We can sneak away and hide out in the playground just off the trail. That is, unless you want to be subjected to StarWatch on your first day here …”

  I look back and forth, and my head starts shaking a clear no without my brain giving the command. The only way I can fix this and give the focus back to my dad is by leaving.

  Okay, and partially it’s just that I want out of here as soon as humanly possible.

  “Is Mom in there?” Katherine asks, and I nod. “You two go around back. I’m going to let her know what’s going on.”

  In a blink, she’s gone, and I’m following Leon around the side of my house. His profile catches in the sun, and I wonder how he’s not sweating at all. He’s got these high cheekbones and bright eyes, where he could smile without even moving his lips.

  “I’m Cal,” I say. “I know we did this already, but I think we need a do-over. Because that was … weird.”

  “Leon.” He leads me down a grassy slope and to a path lined with trees. It’s not like the old woods you see in the parks in New York, but it’s equally manicured.

  We follow the path until we come to a little swing set. He veers off and jumps into a swing, immediately kicking off and soaring high. I sit in the other and rock back and forth slowly.

  “Your mom kind of saved me from the reporters.” I kick some of the dirt beneath my shoes. “It’s a lot to handle.”

  “I get that. People are obsessed with us now. It’s like StarWatch makes our lives seem so dramatic—well, our parents’ lives. They usually stay out of our way.”

  I chuckle. “Maybe that’s why they didn’t seem so interested in my dad. I think his chances of getting on the first mission are low.”

  “Why do you say that?”

  “He was a pilot for Delta.”

  I say that, like I always do, but Leon just stares at me.

  “Is that so bad?” he asks.

  “It’s not bad, it’s just … everyone here is so cool. My dad’s smart, sure, but he only knows how to fly a plane.”

  He laughs and slaps at the chains above my seat. I twist back and forth.

  “Only knows how to fly a plane. So, I’m guessing it takes a lot to impress you?”

  I pause, because even though I’m having a good time, I want to ask him if he really does buy into all this. The veneer cracked a bit when he laughed and when he kicked up on the swing set, but … the covers, the interviews, the relocation, the decor. How can he just be okay with it, when I’m all scrambled up?

  Or maybe I’m all scrambled up because I might be okay with it too.

  “There you guys are.” Katherine bounds toward us and sticks out her hand. “Okay, wow, I’m Kat, and I watch your feed religiously.”

  I pull back, just slightly, then shake her hand.

  “That was creepy,” she says. “I mean, your show and the Cal Letter are the only ways I get my news. I started watching when you covered the election, because you were the only news-ish person who didn’t make me want to punch them with their analysis.”

  “Oh, thank you. I don’t … think anyone’s ever said something so nice,” I say with a smirk.

  She shakes her head. “I swear, I’ll stop fangirling soon. Just. Seriously, you’re great. Your interview with the woman who developed FlashFame was my favorite, by far. I wanted to be her.”

  I twist my swing and my gaze meets Leon’s. “No raving compliments from you?” I smirk, and he busts out laughing.

  “You caught me—see, I’m the opposite. I just can’t stand your political analysis or whatever.” He rolls his eyes. “Joking. I’ve seen your videos, but only over Kat’s shoulder.”

  “Hmm, no feedback,” I say. “You’re not very helpful.”

  Katherine leans in, reducing her voice to a whisper. “The only feedback I ever hear is that he thinks you’re super cute.”

  I pull back and almost fall out of my swing, while Leon makes a guttural gasp that makes Katherine jump back in laughter. His composure’s shattered, and I bet he’d flip if the cameras were on him now.

  “Kat, what the hell?”

  She smiles broadly at this. “So you have two fans, is what I’m trying to say.”

  “This is a lot of information,” I say. I look between the two of them, and Katherine starts walking backward, away from our house.

  “Anyway, the reporters should be giving up soon now that StarWatch has got a grip on the situation,” Katherine says. “There’s a party Friday night, at our place, and Mom is going to invite your parents. You should come, if they even give you a choice in the matter. You’ll meet some of the other astronauts, and once you get incredibly bored of the science talk, you can find us at the back of the house with a bottle of champagne we’ve lifted from the stock.”

  “Kat!” Leon snaps.

  I nearly gasp—the prim, poised, and always proper Tucker kids. I imagine them in a backyard, sneaking out a bottle of champagne and staring into the sky. It reminds me of summer nights with Deb on the fire escape, with whatever we could lift from our parents’ alcohol stock—usually craft beers (meh), red wine (double meh), or scotch (quadruple meh, but wow it works fast).

  “Oh, calm down—Cal’s cool!” Kat does a quick, excited jump as she clasps her hands together. “These parties get boring fast without any other teens around. The astronauts all have young kids. We only come because, well, we live there.”

  I imagine how annoying it would be to be stuck around a bunch of drunk adults.

  “I can see why you would turn to champagne to fix your boredom,” I say with a laugh.

  “Oh, please,” she replies, “we end up pouring half of it out.”

  “Your mom won’t notice a bottle missing?” I ask.

  They both pause to consider me, and by the smirk on my face, they must be able to tell that I’m far more entertained by than appalled by their champagne heist.

  “You’ll understand when you get to the party,” Leon replies. I stand and dust myself off. I think about her words and sneak a glance at Leon before he can look at me. I think he’s cute too. Really cute. “See you soon, I hope?”

  His gaze meets mine, and an ache pulls at my chest, reminding me of Jeremy, of Deb. Of crushes, and of falling.

  Shooting Stars

  Season 2; Episode 6

  EXCLUSIVE INTERVIEW: Our producers meet Calvin Lewis Sr., the final astronaut picked for the Orpheus missions. He takes a break from unpacking and starting a new life in Clear Lake, Texas, and joins astronaut Grace Tucker to chat with us about the space program, Calvin’s chances of making it to Mars, and the announcement that took us all by surprise. (New episode airs 6/10/2020)

  “Welcome to a new, and exciting—albeit rushed—Shooting Stars interview. I’m your host, Josh Farrow, and I am enthused to be bringing an exclusive interview to you with the final astronaut chosen for the Orpheus missions. And here he is: Calvin Lewis, along with a soon-to-be close colleague, Grace Tucker. Welcome to Clear Lake, Calvin.”

  “Well, um, thank you! Hope you don’t mind the boxes; we kind of just got here a couple hours ago.”

  “I assure you our viewers are not bothered by that. They’re interested in Calvin Lewis—Calvin Lewis Sr., I should say. Many of our viewers, of course, know all about Cal Junior. I must say, we were taken aback by his surprise announcement today.”

  “I think we were all a little caught off guard by that
. Look, we’re really sorry about—”

  “We’re so happy to have Calvin on board at NASA. I know how hard it was for my family to adjust—pulling Kat and Leon out of school, Tony’s job transition. We want to make sure they have a smooth, conflict-free transition, don’t you agree, Josh?”

  “Right, of course. Now, I’ll be honest with you, I usually go into these interviews much more prepared, but I’ve barely had time to review the press packet. So why don’t you talk to us about your experience. I see you most recently worked as a commercial pilot with Delta, is that right?”

  “Yes, I flew for Delta for about a decade, but I started in the air force—that’s where I met my lovely wife, Becca. She was working in cybersecurity, so our jobs never overlapped. But we happened to cross paths, and, you know, sparks flew.”

  “Fascinating. You know what I love most about interviews? It’s digging in and finding all the fascinating pieces of a person the world doesn’t get to see. And hopefully we’ll see that side later, but I am curious … what do you think your specialization is here? What do you bring here that no one else does?”

  “Oh, wow. That’s a big question. I feel like I’m in the job interview again, only there’s literally a spotlight on me now. Hah.”

  “Josh? If you don’t mind, I wanted to cut in.”

  “Of course, Grace. Go ahead.”

  “We were just discussing our experience, and I have to tell you—he’s genuinely knowledgeable and passionate about NASA, and I can’t wait to have him in flight simulations with us. During his time at Delta, he trained more pilots there than anyone else in the entire company. You know when you meet someone and automatically know they’ll go above and beyond to reach any goal? I haven’t seen that kind of determination around here since I met Mark Bannon! But there’s a personal connection too. Calvin, why don’t you tell them about when you first discovered you wanted to be an astronaut?”

  “Oh, sure. It’s a simple story, really. When I was ten or so, I watched this documentary on Apollo 11. Everyone knows Neil Armstrong, and we all know the glory those astronauts received, but I remember thinking of how innovative we must have been. They said the RAM, the memory, for the guidance computer matched that of a digital watch—and that was back in the early nineties, way before smart watches. I looked down at my own watch, which could barely do anything but blink and beep at me. And it hit me that … somewhere at the intersection of sheer human intelligence and determination—and a little bullheaded bravery—we made it to the moon. I can’t think of anything more inspiring. Nothing gives me more faith in humanity than seeing something like this come together. So, yes, I bring a lifetime of experience and enthusiasm, but I also bring a deep appreciation of the history and tenacity that made NASA what it is today.”

  CHAPTER 7

  Dad mutes the television.

  “So as you see, you missed a great interview.”

  It’s sarcasm. And I deserve it. We watch the show in its entirety, which starts out with a surprisingly in-depth look at all the new astronauts who have been brought on. The final astronaut, my dad, was barely covered.

  “They didn’t talk about you much, but that’s probably because they knew you had that interview with Grace,” Mom offers.

  He laughs. “I enjoy your optimism, but it’s pretty clear that Josh guy hates me. He said, maybe, three words to me?”

  “He said way more than that, Calvin.” She pauses to massage her temples. “Cal, he came in pretty quickly after you left with the Tucker kids. He was clearly pissed, but he thawed as soon as your dad told that story. Your dad’s got a little bit of that charm left in him.”

  Mom flicks Dad’s ear playfully.

  “Ew, guys. And I’ve told you, I’m sorry. I was just tired and grumpy. I didn’t think about what would happen. And really? Screw Josh Farrow. He just tried to make you look like a fool on camera, and you knocked that question out of the park.”

  “Thankfully Grace was there to lob me that softball of a question,” Dad says. “She was actually very nice to us, don’t you think?”

  Mom sighs, kind of wistfully. “I don’t know how she does it. As soon as you left, she snapped into media-training mode. She taught us so much in so little time. Thank god they didn’t want to see me, though. I was a mess.”

  “They will someday.” My voice is soft, but it still sucks the joy out of the room. “They’re going to be everywhere we go for the foreseeable future. Every public event. Every party. Was Josh Farrow really that angry?”

  “He was,” Dad says. “About time someone wiped that smug look off his face.”

  It breaks the tension in the room, momentarily, even though we know we’re not out of the woods yet. It’s day one, and we’ve already angered the wrong people. But for once, our family is gelling, and maybe that’s because we’re in this together. We don’t have any distractions—my only real friend is thousands of miles away, and I still haven’t unpacked my things, so I can’t even escape into my cassette collection.

  As I go to my empty room, I feel oddly free. The coils of tension in my back have snapped, my breaths are stronger, deeper. I slide under the sheets and squeeze my blanket. The heaviness of the day finally starts to set in as I plug in my phone.

  But just before I set my phone down, I see a new email in my “professional” inbox—the one I keep public so my fans and haters don’t clog up my personal email. One look at the subject line, and all the anxiety sucks back up into me, pulling my muscles taut and pushing an ache through my nervous system.

  StarWatch Media LLC: Letter of Cease & Desist for Calvin Lewis Jr.

  “Fuck,” I announce to the empty room.

  “I’m getting sued,” I tell Deb approximately two milliseconds after she answers the phone. “I’m getting sued!”

  “It’s seven thirty. In the morning.” She’s panting. “What is wrong with you? I closed last night.”

  “Oh, you closed a Paper Source in Park Slope? When? At, like, eight thirty?”

  “Nine, but I’m still tired. Damn.”

  There’s a pause on the line, and it hits me that just because I’ve been up half the night panicking and rereading the email I got doesn’t mean seven a.m. phone calls are appropriate. But I’m getting sued!

  “Elaborate. Please.” Deb still sounds mildly irritated, but she’s decided to put up with me, and I love her for it.

  “I got an email from StarWatch’s lawyers last night. I’ll spare you the legalese, but it basically means if I make another video, they’re going to pursue legal action. Their lawyer has an official letterhead and everything!”

  She sighs. “So, you’re not getting sued.”

  “Well, not yet, but—”

  “You aren’t being sued. You’re being threatened. Just lie low for a bit and have your parents look it over. Maybe they won’t even sue—I mean, that wouldn’t look good, would it? A big media company picking on a teen FlashFamer like that?”

  I consider her appeal. It makes sense, but how can I risk that? And the cease-and-desist letter was so broad as to include ANY video with me in it, regardless of location. In one minute, my career just vanished before my eyes.

  “I can’t risk streaming anything now. I knew they were pissed, but I didn’t think they’d do something like this. I’ve got all this nervous energy now, and I can’t sleep, and I don’t know what to do.”

  “Take a run?”

  We both laugh.

  “No, seriously,” I say, still chuckling at the prospect of physical activity, especially in this heat wave.

  “I don’t know. But I wouldn’t panic. You just got on their radar, and they want to scare you away. And Calvin?”

  “Yes?”

  “Never call me this early. Ever again.”

  I sigh. “Understood.”

  After I hang up, I pull up the map on my phone. There’s not much around me, and I don’t feel like exploring the city with our junker of a car today. I’m stuck with only one option—the Starbucks hal
f a mile away.

  So I put on a deep-cut tank, mesh shorts, running shoes, and sunglasses. It’s a quick athleisure look, and it’ll have to do. I step outside, and the refreshing air of an early summer morning hits me. The humidity seems to have disappeared, dew’s still on the grass, and things feel better already.

  While I’m walking, I feel myself picking up the pace to match my “city walking” style, but here … there’s nowhere to be, I have all the time in the world, and best of all, there are no tourists who need to be shoved out of the way. Win/win/win.

  So I slow my pace and read through the email in my mind. The letterhead was fancy, but was it there just to look scary? And the verbiage they used to explain what rule I broke, it didn’t even apply to me. The only thing I signed was a release form saying that StarWatch could post any videos or photos taken of me—that was required of everyone.

  “Hiya, friend!” someone shouts from the other side of the street. “Welcome to the neighborhood.”

  It’s Stephanie Jonasson, another of the candidates for the Orpheus V mission. I can’t remember what she does, but I know it has nothing to do with the actual navigation, so she’s not in the same field as Dad and Grace are.

  “Hi, Stephanie, right?”

  “Yep. And this is Tag,” she says, pointing down to her miniature Pomeranian, who is currently pawing my leg. “Say hi to Cal, Tag.”

  I bend down to pet the tiny dog. “Oh, right. I’ve seen Tag before—they did that Animal Planet documentary on him, right?”

  “Oh boy, you’ve got a fan!” she says to Tag.

  It’s weird when people talk to their dogs as if they’re humans, but I don’t say anything. The documentary comes back to me—it was a miniseries on famous pets, and an abnormally large amount of time was spent on Tag the Pomeranian.

  “Can I ask you … did StarWatch have any problems with the documentary? I know Animal Planet filmed on your property.”