Passage Interdit
So, I was back in Briançon to visit my parents at their cottage somewhere in some rather detatched side valley. Snow was falling when I drove up to their barn. The snowflakes sizzled as they touched the bonnet of my car, otherwise there was complete silence. There were footprints of a non-defined number of cats, slowly becoming obscured by the growing new layer of snow. It was already after dark, and the shadows cast by the porch light where of such opaque blackness that the footprints looked almost artificial. Other than the snow screaking under my footsoles there was no sound now, the snowflakes falling silently.
Inside there was warmth from the fireplace and mellow merriness. After exchanging the latest tales of life and a simple but tasty dinner including some home-made bread, smoked meat and a bit of wine, it was time to go to bed. The bedroom was almost looking as I had left it to venture abroad, making the leap to adulthood. Still the same wall posters and the same arrangement of furniture. Other than the bright living room, this room was dry and cold, full of the smell of old wood planks that had been exposed to a fair deal of humidity, more than through the time of being part of the house bearing also the heritage of being trees swaying in the cold forests of the mountains of the Rhône-Alps.
I was sleepless. Memories of my childhood crushing in on me, unanswered questions shooting through my head. My parents had long gone to sleep, so I went downstairs, grabbing a pair of boots in the hallway, passing through the dimly lit living-room which was illuminated but by the dying glood of the fireplace. I took a coat and went outside.
It had stopped snowing and the clouds had disappeared. The moon was shining brightly, painting the scenery into a crisp black-and-white image. The snow crystals blinked as I moved along for good. I watched the Moon, it was full and appeared very large, larger than usual. In that moment an obsessive thought occured to me. I wanted to go to the Moon.
Meanwhile, as history had progressed and earth had seen a lot of more wars and crises, unbeknowest of many politicians, an economy had come to spin up on Moon. Some time around the thirties they had found some minerals there that swiftly established an infrastructure of Moon-travel. Therefore, many ports across Europe had taken up Moon service. It was still the most expensive trip to do, even on cheap cargo-aircrafts, but I had been able to put some money aside.
The next days I discussed it with my parents, and their reaction was surprisingly positive: “Take your camera with you, will you, boy?”. So, without a fuzz I arranged to go to Grenoble, the nearest Moonport, and the rest of the week I spent many hours with my father and his telescope, eyeing the new civilisations nestled at rims of craters.
When I entered Grenoble Moonport, the first impression was the mess of everything and everybody being very busy. The sign Passage Interdit aux Infirmes posted all over the place did not catch a lot of my attention, but it was clear there was some brawl going on about it, as it was a newly introduced safety regulation. I went to the counter to book a flight, readying my credit card and passport. I had some good contacts on Moon to whom I had already announced my visit, and they were happy to also arrange a couple of job interviews for positions that never would have been possible on Earth. So I was invigorated with a strong spirit of starting something completely new.
The good-looking woman at the counter smiled at me in professional style and she asked me for my medical record. I pointed at the credit card which was supposed to have all relevant information on its chip, but she waved her head in excuse and pointed me to a different counter, where there was just a brawl going on. I advanced and was kindly asked forward by the likewisely good-looking counter employee in charge. She asked me to join into a compartment where she took a genetic fingerprint from me. After a few minutes of waiting she reappeared with a frown and said: “Nous sommes très desolés mais la passage a eu determiné interdite pour vous, Monsieur. Votre condition permet pas de passage pour la lune.” Instantly I got up and excused myself to the lady being up for extensively explaining further. I was not ready for futile discussions and instead submitted to the verdict of authority.
Back at my parents’ cottage, again I was out in the snow at night, taking a breath of fresh air, watching the crisp silhouette of shades cast by the moonlight. An idea struck me again. I took off my glasses and the Moon and the snow suddenly became one.
