Page 42 of Space Balls: Houston, We Have Liftoff
“Misogynistic.” Placing my controller next to me on the couch, I crook my Batman Band-Aided finger at them. “Gather ’round, boys, and let Auntie Rose tell you all the ways in which women rule the world and men need to just sit back and love it.”
Twenty minutes later,I leave Jase and Jacob open-mouthed and blinking in the living room to go see where else I can be helpful. Along the way, I take in family photos hung on the wall. Most are of Jacob and Jase at varying ages, but there are some older ones too.
There’s a family portrait from Vance’s childhood. I recognize Helen, not looking much different than she does now, and Brittany, looking like a pre-teen. And a scrawny kid. Vance.
He’s probably about six or seven. His silky hair is styled in a hilarious bowl cut. He’s wearing an orange, blue, and white striped shirt—à la Bert and Ernie from Sesame Street.
So cute.
But there’s also a handsome man with his arm around Helen. He’s standing tall, his face more serious than happy, but the corners of his lips are tilted up just enough to let you know he’s proud to be standing with his family.
“Did the boys scare you away already?”
I jump at Vance’s voice, coming from right behind me.
“Those two rugrats?” I thumb over my shoulder toward the living room. “Please. Ask them later who scared who.”
He shakes his head, laughing. “Why doesn’t that surprise me in the least?”
“Because you know I’m a winner?”
“You’re something, all right.”
We smile at each other a beat longer.
“So…” I glance around, a sudden heat overtaking me. “Is that your dad?” I point to the old family portrait.
I regret my question when the smile falls off his face. “Yeah. That’s my dad.”
“Um… what happened to him?” I’m aware I shouldn’t have asked. But things just got awkward, and when things get awkward, I tend to make them awkwarder. Not a word. I know. But whatever. It’s what I do.
“He died in action when I was little.” He stares at the photo. “A few weeks after that photo was taken, actually.”
Yep, I was right. I shouldn’t have asked. “Sorry.”
“It’s all right.” Vance shrugs, still staring at the photo.
“What was his name?”
“Lonan Bodaway.” His voice seems devoid of all emotion.
“Lonan?”
“Means cloud or blackbird in Zuni.” He gives me a wry smile. “I’m guessing his soul leaned more to blackbird.”
“Why do you say that?”
“Blackbird’s more ominous, isn’t it? And he did die young.”
I look back at the picture, unsure how to respond. “He was very handsome.” I lean closer, noticing the crinkles around Lonan Bodaway’s eyes. “You look like him.”
Vance hums in acknowledgement but doesn’t say anything else.
“Why don’t Helen or your sister have Zuni names?”
“They do. My mother’s real first name is Elu, meaning full of grace.”
“I can see that.” I nudge him in the ribs, trying to lighten the moment. “She sure is graceful on the pole.”
