Friends go to Space

“Is this safe?” Harper the Hippo asked as she peered at the questionable contraption through the lens of her brand-new, Eagle-eye camera. She would have to adjust the settings for close range, given that she was standing only a few feet from Bryson the Bear’s brand new and glossy white rocket ship, roughly about the size of her mother’s minivan. Bryson threw his head back, laughing maniacally as he waltzed into the center of the shot, sounding a bit too similar to the villains of the plays she directed. She’d be worried if it were anybody but Bryson, whose evil laugh was reserved for particular strokes of genius. Whenever it died down, she couldn’t miss the brilliant sparkle he got in his eyes before talking about what he loves. Harper kept her camera trained on him and-
Snap! She got it! That was one for the album.

“Is it safe, she asks?” Bryson shook his head to an imaginary audience, straightening glasses that had gone awry in his glee. “Let me tell you something, Harper. You are safer on this ship than here on this floating nature-made rocket ship called Earth.” 

“Whoa!” A roar sounded from behind Harper, who turned to see Taylor the Tiger still in her soccer jersey and in awe of the sight before her. “Bryson, this is insane!” She ran up, quick as ever, taking a closer look at his newest invention. Bryson sniffed, suddenly looking bashful with a shrug. 

“It’s nothing,” he said. “Anyone with a rocket science PhD, years of in-depth space knowledge, and an IQ in the 300s could do it.”

“Well? What are we waiting for? I’ve been thinking of this all game.” Taylor began pulling on the door with both paws to no avail. Bryson took out a small white remote that must’ve had hundreds of buttons and pressed one in the upper left corner, causing the door to slowly open right up. 

“What’s the handle for if you have a remote?” Harper asked. 

“Decorative,” Bryson said, still looking at Taylor as she cheered in victory at the entrance, placing her paws on her hips. She turned to meet their eyes with a smirk.

“Which, by the way, we won.” She ducked her head to run inside, calling dibs on the passenger seat. Bryson gestured to Harper to go on in first, and she carefully obliged, wondering how she ended up in this situation. The things she did for friendship. 

She took the backseat, and Bryson jumped into the driver’s, pulling out his remote to press a complicated combination that caused the door to close, click, and the engines to turn on. Harper grasped the top of Taylor’s seat, taking deep breaths. “Prepare for takeoff!” Bryson shouted, his voice sounding like music atop the jets whirring. “In 3, 2, . . .,” He paused, looking at Taylor.

She grinned, inhaling to give a loud shout. “1!” Bryson’s hands flew across the motherboard in front of him, occasionally moving to the joysticks to go this way and that. Watching the spectacle almost made Harper not even notice that they were lifting off the ground.

Almost. 

She shut her eyes tight, listening to Taylor’s delighted laughs and Bryson’s mutters to himself. It could have been minutes or hours, she couldn’t tell. It didn’t feel much different than the airplane she went on once to visit her grandparents, but it was a bit louder and much warmer. After a big bout of overthinking, Harper felt Taylor’s paw on her hand. 

“Harper! Still afraid of heights, huh? Put it aside for now. You won’t want to miss this.” Harper took a moment to build her courage, her friend’s comfort warming her heart and giving her the strength to open one eye. Once she saw the view, the other followed. “Wow,” she gasped. 

Somewhere in between closing her eyes and opening them, the world had become starkly different. The blue sky had become dark but for the shining light of millions of stars, though her eyes could only focus on one magnificent sparkle at a time. They glittered and glowed, shimmering in space. She quickly reached into her bag to grab her camera, wondering if something so beautiful could be captured, even with the Eagle-eye, the special edition camera made by eagles themselves.

While Harper snapped some shots, Taylor pointed to stars, asking Bryson to name them. He happily obliged, that familiar glint in his eye again. Taylor began making up her own stories about them, as playful as ever. 

“And all the stars there make up the big Dipper-,” Bryson began, quickly cut off by the troublesome tiger.

“Ah! The Big Dipper. He was an old baseball teammate of mine. He was definitely a giant - that baseball bat was like a toothpick in his hand.” Taylor mimed swinging a small toothpick. “Once, he hit a homerun all the way up to space. It was so fast, so unstoppable, it caught on fire and stayed in the sky. We named it after him, of course. You can see the fire streak right there, see?” Bryson, usually quick to correct others as a stern opponent to misinformation, had long grown use to Taylor’s antics. Enjoyed them, even. Harper, who could picture the story perfectly in her mind, egged Taylor on for more. 

“And what about the little Dipper?” She asked.

“Just one second. All this educating is getting me hungry.” Taylor reached into the pocket of her jersey, taking out a small pack of Simply Animal crackers. She opened it with no time to waste as Bryson gasped.

“What? Want some?” Taylor offered the open bag up to him.

“You can’t eat snacks in here! You could attract alien species!” Bryson looked around, his brows furrowing in concern. Harper covered her nose with two hands, fearfully hunching over. 

“Oh! We better eat them quick,” Taylor started to turn the bag upside down, ready to finish every cracker in one go when they heard a voice. 

“Not so fast.” They all paused, looking out into space and seeing a teeny-tiny, slimy-looking, dragon-like figure standing on their window with their arms crossed. “Sharing is caring, mortals.” All 3 friends recoiled in horror. Harper because she always thought she was the main character in a horror movie, Bryson because he didn’t have his decontamination kit to allow the creature entry, and Taylor because this was her only snack on her, and she really was hungry. She protectively clutched the cracker package to her chest. She was used to sharing, having so many friends and teammates, but that alien didn’t even say please. 

“Bryson,” Taylor whispered. “Do something.” With shaky hands, Harper took out her camera to take a picture. The alien put their two three-fingered hands on the window, baring little teeth as they spoke again. 

“I said-,” with a flurry of movement, Bryson pressed an intense combination of buttons and remote operations. Before the alien could finish, the windshield wiper activated and swiped him right off. 

As he flew deeper into space, the alien shouted, “This won’t be the last you’ve seen of me!” Bryson noted he would have to do research on how such a tiny voice like that carried so far. The alien would be fine, but perhaps more irritated the next time he appeared- and considering he already had an attitude, Taylor was sure they would get a talking-to when they next met up. 

Harper, Bryson, and Taylor were all silent for the next few seconds, save for Taylor’s crunching. “I think I’m ready to go home,” Harper said. She had an extensive camera roll to go through. Bryson began to start the process, already thinking of the alien-friendly features he would need to add. 

“Descending in 3. . .2 . . .,”

“1!” Harper and Taylor say in unison. Space was pretty great and all, but as Harper fell asleep through the hum of the rocket and Taylor’s animated storytelling of her game that day, she wanted nothing more than to go back to Staufferville. She much preferred to be behind the scenes.