Chapter 10
Foreman stared at the radio. He'd figured out the controls. What he hadn't figured out was how he was going to summon up the courage to turn it on and try to communicate with Earth. If he didn't try, a part of his brain could pretend everything was still okay. That maybe nations had said “sorry' to each other and kissed and made up. He remembered his old man. After some pressure from Mom, he had retired from the air-force and settled for a desk job in the city. After the adventurous life as a fighter pilot, one day was now a repeat of the previous one and he would die a little more each day. Every Saturday, he would buy a lottery ticket but he never watched the live draw. Instead, he would take off for his den, play solo darts while he drank his grog, and listen to the sports on the radio, while mom would watch the Saturday movie, and eat chocolate.
But, on Sunday morning, he would check the lotto results, screw up the yellow ticket and throw it in the waste paper basket, usually with a muttered oath or two. One Sunday morning, young Andrew Foreman had watched the ritual for the thousandth time, the well practised shot into the basket followed by the swear words, followed by Mom's knowing “I told you” smile.
'Dad. Why don't you ever check the results on Saturday night?'
His dad smiled. 'Because, Son, for a whole night, I can dream I won. Just for a few damn hours, I could be a millionaire. And I could be. It could just as well be me as some other shmuck.'
Sitting in front of the radio, for the first time, Foreman truly understood what his father meant. If he didn't turn on the radio and listen to the irritating static, it could be that everything was okay. He could imagine that at the other end was a cadet like Farley, who would be laughing and saying, 'Thank God that spot of bother is all over. Hey, Mr Foreman. We got a rescue ship on its way to get you home. Just hang in there and you'll be home in no time.'
It could be just like that. Like his dad dreaming for a whole night he could be the next big winner, Foreman thought that if he didn't turn on the radio, then everything on Earth was still peachy. Only flicking that switch would make the horror all real. That was still too much reality to accept, right then. He would hang on to hope, to the illusion, for one more night. He left the room and the auto light turned itself off.