[m]seven

Richard jerked his head up gasped for breath. Coughing, he laid it back down sideways and gulped in air. He didn’t move for a long time – he just laid there, breathing.

After a while, he looked up. He was lying face down on a rather large slope, looking up towards the top. He started to look around, but he suddenly realized he had a terrible headache, so he laid his head back down, closed his eyes, and rested.

Eventually, Richard felt well enough to look around some more, so he propped himself up on his elbows and took a good, long look around.

He was in a large crater, about halfway down what he figured was the eastern slope. Why he didn’t see it coming, he couldn’t say. It must have been one of those optical illusions where the one edge was higher than the other, so he simply couldn’t see it until he was in it.

Richard rolled over onto his back and lay there, thinking about his dream. He couldn’t place the tree, but the woman he immediately knew. Oh yes, he knew her. Her name was Madeline. He sighed. Madeline. A name that as beautiful as the woman herself.

Madeline worked in the same office as Richard, on the same floor, but on the completely opposite side of the building – quite a distance away. Despite this distance, she would often visit Richard’s cubicle during her breaks. Richard never completely understood this. Perhaps more accurately, he understood it a little, but he didn’t know what to do with it. Sometimes, he would go visit her in her office, but not as often as he would like. He always had a strange blend of excitement and fear when deciding if he should go visit her, and the fear (which he also had a hard time understanding) frequently kept him from going.

Richard’s mind turned to the group campouts he sometimes attended. A lot of them were organized by people from work – many of whom were outdoor freaks – and sometimes he would tag along, although he never really knew why. One thing that he liked, though, is that Madeline often went to them as well. Another thing he liked – although it, too, boggled his mind – is how she would always try to sit close to him, even if it took her away from her friends. Not always right next to him, but always close.

Richard sighed again, and smiled.

After a moment, he sat up and looked around. He started. It had become quite dark while he had been laying there! He couldn’t see the sun anymore, only a glow from the horizon. The darkness didn’t bother him too much, but what did was the line of dark shadow separating the the fading light from the darkness. It lay across the surface of the moon and was moving over the crater, heading directly for him!

Richard sprang to his feet. The sudden movement intensified his headache, but he ignored it, and began to run up the hill to the top of the crater. Stumbling and panting, he reached the top and stopped just as the darkness overcame him. He fell to his knees and gasped for breath. He could see the light being absorbed by the darkness, further and further in the distance.

He forced himself to stand up. He wasn’t afraid of the dark, but he had watched the nature channel enough to know how quickly it would get cold at night in an environment like this. He felt a chill, and he crossed his arms for warmth. He would have to find some sort of shelter quickly if he was going to survive the night.

[m]six

Richard looked up.

He saw a tall, dark-haired woman standing by a large tree. Attached to the tree was a tire swing. The woman was wearing a long, black dress, and she seemed to be posing, as if for a picture. She was smiling and gesturing, like she wanted Richard to come to her.

Richard was lying face down, so he tried to push himself up with his arms, but they were too weak. He felt like there was a weight on top of his back, and the harder he tried to get up, the heavier the weight was.

He looked up again. The woman was gesturing more excitedly now. Richard tried just getting to his knees, but even that was impossible.

The woman and the tree began to move away – not like he or the woman was willfully moving away – more like everything was being pulled away from him by an unseen force.

Richard tried more frantically to get up. He quickly gave up and tried to crawl on his belly, but his legs were like lead. The woman and the tree were shrinking rapidly now. He gave one last effort to push himself up, but collapsed miserably. Panting, he strained to lift his head one last time. He saw the woman and the tree shrink into nothing, and disappear.

[m]five

The landscape was filled with craters, hills, and spires sticking out of the ground – stalagmites, weren’t they? Richard was surprised that he remembered that. As he walked, it didn’t take him long to realize that he didn’t know where he was going. He was walking away from the cabin – which was good – but what was his final destination?

He stopped and thought. No! He said to himself. I must keep moving! Richard knew that if he stopped, he might not get started again. He made himself think while he walked – something he didn’t do too often.

He didn’t really know where he needed to be, or rather, where to go to help him get off the moon. He’d simply have to pick a destination, and go there. He decided to pick one of the stalagmites.

Heading towards his chosen stalagmite, Richard remembered something else. He had seen it in an old western movie – the main character was an open range cowboy, and he would always make sure he was completely aware of his surroundings. It was a pretty good movie – not one of those cheesy ones, although Richard often liked the cheesy ones too – and the cowboy really seemed to know what he was doing, so Richard decided to put the idea into practice.

After working up his resolve to start walking again, Richard stopped to look around. As he did so, he realized that it would really help if he knew which way was north. Did the moon even have directions like that? Back on earth, they were based on the magnetic poles of the planet – surely the moon had magnetic poles as well? Even if it did, there was really no way to tell where they were, so he decided to make up the directions himself. His stalagmite would be “west,” which would make his cabin in the “southeast” direction. There was a medium-sized crater to the south, a large hill to the east, and a cluster of small stalagmites in the north. If he ever lost sight of his cabin and needed to get back, he could simply head directly in between the medium crater and the large hill.

As soon as he had done all this, Richard promptly began walking again. He took a quick glance back at his cabin to see how far he had gone. It was quite a distance away, but his stalagmite in the east didn’t really seem that much closer. Wait. “His cabin,” he had called it. He thought about this. It seemed wrong – rude, even – to call it “his” cabin. It really didn’t belong to him. Who did it belong to, anyway? The same person – or people, maybe – who put him here?

Did the cabin belong to aliens?

As foolish as the thought sounded to Richard, he simply coudn’t shake the idea of aliens. If there were aliens here, were they watching him now? Was this some sort of terrible experiment, like the kind you see in really bad sci-fi movies?

Before he could pursue this thought any further, Richard slipped and tumbled down a sudden slope, hit his head a rock, and passed out.