Chapter 2: TV News
Before long, the familiar silhouette of his mother's car appeared at the school gate, inching forward as she navigated through the lingering congestion of vehicles. James's eyes brightened at the sight, a blend of relief and anticipation stirring within him. As he approached, the passenger door opened with a soft click, and he slid into the comforting embrace of the family car, the seat holding the residual warmth of the afternoon sun.
The drive home was enveloped in an unusual silence. His mother's presence at the wheel was composed but underscored by a tense stillness. James stole glances at her, noticing the subtle furrow of her brow, a clear indication that the day's unexpected turn of events had inconvenienced her more than she let on. She was usually the pillar of patience, but today, the strain of having to leave her work unexpectedly had etched itself into the corners of her expression.
The car's engine hummed a steady rhythm as they passed the familiar landmarks of their daily commute. Stoplights blinked lazily, indifferent to the urgency that had thrust itself upon their day. James wanted to speak, to fill the silence with his account of the giant sphere and the way it hung in the sky, so alien and imposing. Yet he hesitated, respecting the unspoken need for quiet as his mother navigated not only the road but her own thoughts as well.
The neighborhoods whisked by in a blur of green lawns and brick facades, each house a silent witness to the return of their occupants, all undoubtedly abuzz with discussions of the day's celestial drama. By the time they pulled into their driveway, the car's quiet interior had become a sanctuary of sorts, a capsule separate from the whirlwind of the day's events.
James gathered his backpack, heavy with books and the weight of a day that would linger in memory. As he exited the car, he cast a reassuring smile toward his mother, a wordless thank you for her unscheduled rescue. It was a small gesture, but one that acknowledged the shared understanding between them—that some days, the universe has plans that supersede our own, and all we can do is ride along, together in the quiet, until we reach the familiar comfort of home.
The car's engine came to a rest with a soft purr, fading into the ambient symphony of their quiet suburban neighborhood. James opened the door, his legs eagerly unfolding from the confines of the car as he stepped onto the sun-warmed driveway. He paused for a moment, feeling the change from the cool air-conditioned interior to the gentle kiss of the late afternoon sun on his face.
His mother followed, locking the car with a beep that echoed down the street, a signal that marked their return to normalcy. James turned to her, his backpack slung over one shoulder, noticing the way her eyes seemed to finally take a break from the day's stress, softening as they landed on the safety of their family home.
"Let's go make some tea," she suggested, her voice finding its familiar warm tone again. It was their ritual, a way to debrief after a day apart, and especially now, it seemed like the perfect balm.
As they entered the house, the coolness of the tiled hallway greeted them, a stark contrast to the lingering heat outside. The familiarity of the space wrapped around James, a comforting embrace after the day's unexpected adventure. They moved together toward the kitchen, a dance they'd performed countless times before, but today it felt different, significant in its mundanity.
James took his usual seat at the kitchen table, unloading his backpack as his mother filled the kettle and set it on the stove. The familiar click and hiss of the burner igniting was a prelude to the conversation they were about to have. He watched as she busied herself with the teacups, her movements methodical, almost meditative.
The kettle began to sing, its whistle a gentle crescendo that culminated in the comfort of routine. She poured the steaming water into their cups, the herbal scent rising in the air, mingling with the sense of ease that was slowly being restored.
"So," she began, her gaze softening as she took her seat opposite him, "tell me everything."
And James did. He spoke of the sphere, the shadow it cast, and the way it seemed to hang in the sky, a silent guardian of unknown origins. He described the hush of the classroom, the communal awe, and the flurry of early dismissal. His mother listened, her earlier frustration melting away as she was drawn into the vivid retelling of his day. Each word he spoke bridged the gap between his world and hers, and together they unpacked the wonder and the strangeness of it all.
They sipped their tea, the warmth of the liquid echoing the warmth of the connection between them. The earlier tension had evaporated, leaving behind a shared fascination with the day's events and a gratefulness for the quiet comfort of being together, safe and sound, in the place they called home.
Her voice carried a hint of skepticism laced with the exhaustion of her unplanned afternoon. "Is your principal daft? Why would they cancel school just over some new moon?" she muttered with a half-hearted chuckle, clearly not grasping the magnitude of the day's events. "Eh..." she sighed, a sound that fell somewhere between exasperation and disbelief. "Anyway, do you want to turn on the TV? I've got some work to do around the house."
As she drifted away to tackle the domestic tasks that awaited her, James reached for the remote and pressed the power button. The TV flickered to life, casting a glow on his intrigued face. He was just in time to catch the special news broadcast that had preemptively answered his unasked questions.
On the screen, a scientist with a look of both concern and fascination stood in front of a bank of monitors, each displaying trajectories and models of celestial bodies. The solemnity in his voice commanded attention as he explained the unfolding cosmic event.
"The new celestial body's gravitational influence is not trivial," the scientist was saying. "It's exerting an unexpected force on our moon's orbit around Earth." He paused for emphasis, pushing his glasses up the bridge of his nose with a sense of urgency. "Our moon's rotation is slowing down, and this new moon is creating disturbances that are affecting the behavior of Earth's wildlife and even our ocean tides."
James's eyes were wide as he absorbed every word, each one adding weight to the reality of the situation. The scientist continued, detailing how the interaction between the new moon and our own was a dance with dangerous implications. Charts and diagrams illustrated their perilous orbital paths.
"The new and our old moon are set on an intersection course," the scientist detailed with clinical precision. "If calculations are correct, they are destined to collide within the next 48 hours."
The room felt suddenly still around James as the magnitude of the scientist's words sunk in. The TV screen showed images of the two moons, one familiar and one an alien interloper, hanging in the sky like celestial orbs on a collision path of astronomical proportions.
He could hear the faint sounds of his mother in the other room, unaware of the dire news that had just been delivered. The clink of dishes and the swish of her movements provided an eerie soundtrack to the scientist's grave predictions. James knew that the brief respite they had felt upon returning home was about to be replaced by a new wave of concern, and this time, it would be far more profound than a simple disruption to a school day.
The scientist's words continued to cascade through the room, a waterfall of impending doom that seemed almost too fantastical to be true. "We advise the public to stay tuned for further instructions and safety measures," he concluded, his eyes earnestly meeting the camera, imploring the viewers to grasp the seriousness of the situation.
Frozen for a moment in the sheer surrealness of the broadcast, James finally shook off the shock, his instincts kicking in. He turned off the television and went in search of his mother, the urgency of the news propelling him forward. He found her in the laundry room, her back turned to him as she sorted through a basket of clothes.
"Mom," James said, his voice more steady than he felt. "You need to come and see this."
She looked over her shoulder, a question in her eyes at the gravity in her son's tone. With a sigh, she wiped her hands on her jeans and followed him back to the living room. He replayed the broadcast for her, watching as her face transformed from mild irritation to concern, her eyes reflecting the serious nature of the newscast.
As the reality set in, the house chores that seemed so important moments ago lost all significance. They sat together on the couch, side by side, grappling with the idea that their world was facing a potential crisis of cosmic proportions. The normalcy of their day-to-day lives was on pause, overshadowed by the ominous predictions of celestial catastrophe.
"What are we going to do?" she finally whispered, her voice a mix of fear and resolve.
"We'll do what we always do," James replied, squeezing her hand. "We stick together and figure it out. Let's pack some things, just in case we have to leave quickly."
They rose from the couch, a newfound purpose fueling their movements. Outside, the evening sky was taking on a dusky hue, the two moons visible to the naked eye, a stark reminder of the ticking clock the whole world was now watching.
James and his mother moved through the house, gathering essentials—a flashlight, batteries, a first-aid kit, and some non-perishable food. They worked in silent agreement, each lost in thought but comforted by the other's presence.
In the background, the TV continued to play, the news anchor's voice a constant stream of updates and advisories. The community was coming together, a collective breath held in anticipation, and James felt a stir of unity amidst the fear. It was a strange feeling, to be at the mercy of the vast unknown, but as he looked at his mother, he felt a determined calm.
They would face whatever came, together, beneath the watchful eyes of the two moons.
CREATORS' THOUGHTS 
Signed_JMB
Signed_JMB Creation is hard, cheer me up! VOTE for me!Like it ? Add to library!Have some idea about my story? Comment it and let me know.
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