Countdown

A Story by srh922

This is a tribute to Sally Ride, the first woman to travel to outer space. The assignment was to write a poem as a tribute, but my teacher encouraged me to experiment with poetic prose.

Countdown

One hundred and eighty-four miles to go.

She began her climb up the snowy mountain with a grunt. She was born for this. In fact, it was the only reality she had prepared for. She eyed the inselberg before her, daring to challenge it with a determined stare. Many told her that she could not, will not; but their remarks fell on deaf ears. Without thinking or looking back, she strode forward.

One hundred and twenty-four miles to go.

Failure was never my forte, she decided. Her path was well worn, but unscrupulously steep. She followed the icy boot prints in the snow; they were easily several times larger. In spite of the slippery footing, she never faltered, never stumbled and never tumbled to the ground. Her poise in the face of adversity was impeccable.

With a heave, she pulled herself over a ridge. She looked to the ground, sixty miles below her. The hawks she had ignored at miles twenty-three and forty-three still circled, pecking at travelers that were struggling to make their way up the tricky slope. Their tiny shoes offered poor traction on the slippery ice path. Filled with feelings of camaraderie, she hammered in a rope and tossed it down for the next climber.

Eighty-four miles to go.

The top was in sight now. As she neared the hundredth mile mark, she stopped to rest. The sky before her had a subtle curve to it. Her vision of the world was completely unobstructed. She could see the hawks from before. She peered at the ground, far below. Then, below, something caught her eye. At mile marker twenty, a little girl struggled to reach for a handhold. Two little boys appeared next to the girl. Without warning or regret, one boy shoved her aside, climbing with ease and encouragement from his buddy.

It occurred to her that she was the only woman to have made it this far.

Ten miles to go.

She was close. She knew it in her bones. It was the kind of feeling that did not lie. As she passed mile marker ten, her muscles rewarded her with renewed strength. Mile nine passed without note. She blazed through miles eight and seven. As she climbed, she gained in speed. Nothing else mattered now.

She passed through miles six, five, four, three…two…one…

She hit the top of the mountain as a computerized voice said plainly, “Ignition.” She spent eight days on top of the mountain, observing all around her. When she was satisfied, she began her walk back down.

***

At mile nineteen, she found the little girl crying next to a boulder. She knelt down next to her. “The mountain is unforgiving. But in the end, it’s worth the trouble.” She stood and continued her descent.

The little girl stopped crying. She gazed after the beautiful woman who had whispered in her ear. She watched as the woman descended to mile fifteen, then nine, and finally to the ground, speaking to other little girls along the way. To her surprise, the woman then turned and started back up the mountain.

When the woman reached mile nineteen, the little girl didn’t just watch her pass. She went with her.