Eclipse

Eclipse

Brooke Aspen was not happy, but she tried to smile and make the best of her circumstances as she stowed her bag in the overhead compartment and took her window seat on the flight to Dallas. “Dallas,” she thought to herself with a groan. Of all the places to visit and things to see on her bucket list not one was even remotely near Texas.  OK, well, maybe Johnson Space Center in Houston. Real science. That’s what she had been hired for, Brooke thought. She had been handed this assignment last minute when the regular features writer tested positive for COVID (or so he said but maybe he didn’t want to go to Texas either). At first she was excited to take on her first on the road assignment until she learned it was in Dallas – the land of cowboy hats, cowboy boots, and well, cowboys. Always tipping their hats and offering to help out the “little lady”. At 5’2” Brooke was less than average height but she knew she could take care of herself and didn’t need a stranger in a Stetson to carry her load.

Her editor, Louise, saw the disappointed look on her face and totally misread her new science writer. “Don’t worry,” she promised. We have a guy from a local affiliate who will meet you there and help you get the story. I explained it was your first away assignment, so he’ll have everything covered for you. 

“Great,” she thought, “some dumb cowboy to explain the science of a total solar eclipse to her with her physics background. The first time he calls me “Little Lady” he better hold on to his cowboy hat,” she murmured under her breath as the editor walked out. At the door she stopped and added,” And remember not to make it to “science-y”. This is a features piece.”

She’d had only a few hours to pack and make the plane. She had no idea what one packed to wear to a park in small town Texas to watch a total solar eclipse. She didn’t own a single pair of cowboy boots and had no intention of buying any for this or any other assignment. She chose business casual and a comfortable pair of shoes. Thankfully the flight from DC was nonstop and uneventful. Brooke spent most of the time reading background materials on the eclipse. She also read some of the latest reporting that explained most of the viewing sites along the path of totality would be covered by clouds and block out a good viewing. “That explains why I’m headed to Dallas instead of New York,” she thought.

The line for rental car pickup was the next headache in this assignment from hell. Adding to her misery was a text from the editor advising a change in plans. She was to now drive to Llano, TX and meet Don Somis who was already in town and would fill her in. She pictured a long lanky cowboy in boots and jeans with a slow southern drawl. Although the name seemed to mean something to her subconsciously, she pushed it aside, focusing instead on getting out of Dallas. The rental car line was seemingly endless, but soon Brooke was exiting DFW onto a local highway heading south.  

The drive to Llano was just over 200 miles with most of the traffic headed to Dallas it seemed. Highway signs flashed warnings for cars to keep moving rather than pulling off on the side of the road to watch the eclipse. She made a mental note to add something about the signs in her story. That’s not too “science-y” she thought with a laugh to herself. Pecan Tree Park was large and off the main street in town, so the crowd here wasn’t loud or rowdy. After parking her rental Brooke roamed around the groups of people in the park which stretched along a slow-moving lake where people in a small flotilla of kayaks, canoes, and big tubes floated around waiting for the show. Mostly people were off in groups of 10 or 12 with only a small space between them, but everyone seemed to be getting along. She also noticed that most of the cowboy boots and hats were being worn by young women in cutoff jeans and crop tops. She chided herself just a little for being so wrong.

The weatherman had gotten it right. The skies were blue and cloudless. She was about to start doing her “man on the street” questioning when someone tapped her on the shoulder. “Excuse me, Miss, would you happen to be Brooke Aspen from Hot Topics Magazine?”

Brooke turned slowly. She was ready to explain to this local cowboy that she didn’t need any help with this or any other story from the likes of him. She looked at his feet first and was surprised to see sandals, not cowboy boots. In fact, his entire outfit did not look like it belonged here at all: baggy cargo shorts, loud Hawaiian shirt in bright colors and decidedly not a cowboy hat but rather some sort of canvas sunhat with a mesh band for cooling and a big wide brim. He grinned and looked down at her over a pair of dark shaded sunglasses. 

“I’m Don Somis. I was told to help you get the details for your story that is if you are Brooke Aspen,” he added as he offered his hand.

Brooke reached slowly for his hand while sizing him up. Despite the unlikely outfit he did have redeeming qualities. The green eyes that peered at her over the sunglasses seemed to have small flecks of gold. The face tanned with a neatly trimmed goatee. He offered her a smile along with the handshake. A smile that somehow involved every muscle in his face: crinkling at the corners of his eyes, exposing dimples on his cheeks and a wide mouth grin. Even his chin had a little dimple. His body was lean, the best she could tell in that get-up, and tall. Well, taller than her and at 5’2” that left a lot of room, but definitely more than 5’8”. His handshake was firm but kind. There was something else about him that she just couldn’t place. Something about his name that was again niggling around in the back of her mind. 

Suddenly she realized why the name was familiar. “Wait a minute, are you The Don Somis? The NASA payload specialist who figured out how to get the stranded astronauts back from the International Space Station?” Brooke couldn’t believe she was asking him this question. How many people named Don Somis could there be? And why was he dressed that way?

His smile tightened and his handshake loosened. Once again looking at her over those dark glasses his voice was softer this time. “I’d appreciate it if you kept that to yourself. I’m just a guy here to enjoy a once in a lifetime show like everyone else,” he responded. “Now let me tell you a little about the effects of the eclipse on Texas and in particular on the little town of Llano,” he said quickly shifting the conversation. He began spouting statistics about normal population vs. the population explosion brought on by eclipse viewers, ATMs running out of money, small towns applying for emergency relief to counter the cost of extra security. These things she already knew from her background research. She listened anyway liking the sound of his voice, which she noted did not have a Texas twang. 

Finally seeing a chance to get in a question she asked, “Are you a Texan? I mean, are you from here, because you don’t really sound like a, well, I mean, your accent seems more I don’t know, not really what I expected.” Brooke blushed knowing she had botched her chance to sound if not sophisticated at least educated.

Don looked at her with that full face grin almost laughing. “Are you really a redhead?” he asked. “I mean I can see that your hair is red but that doesn't make you a redhead, or does it? Well, you do have the smooth creamy complexion of a ginger, but I haven’t seen your temper yet, so I can’t say for sure,” he finished with a grin. 

Embarrassed she conceded, “I apologize for trying to stereotype. It’s just that I had an image in my mind of Texan men…..”

“Cowboys in Stetson hats and pointy toed boots,” he inserted gleefully.

“OK. Guilty,” she admitted raising her hands in surrender.

“I’m from Queens. Studied physics at NYU and joined NASA right out of college, at first in Florida and then Houston. I guess I am a Texan now, but I don’t care for horses or cowboy boots. Sorta like to create my own style. Me and Willie - Outlaws,” and with that his grin was brighter.

Brooke was about to say something about his unique style when a nearby loudspeaker announced ten minutes until totality.

“Would you care to join me here at my luxurious pad to watch the big show. It’s a small capsule but there’s plenty room for two.  Brooke looked down to see a quilt and a couple of pillows on the ground. She looked around to see everyone else standing or sitting in chairs. “Amateurs,” he said. This is by far the best way to watch. What have you got to lose other than 4 minutes and 20 seconds of your life?

Giving in Brooke kicked off her flats and lowered her body down on the quilt which seemed old and heavy, perhaps some old family heirloom. Don easily stepped out of his sandals and gracefully lowered his lanky body down to the quilt rather dancer-like. She was impressed and said so. “Been doing yoga for 10 years,” he answered. “Keeps you flexible.”

They both laid back against the pillows placing the eclipse glasses over their eyes and focused on the sun as oohs and aahs began to be heard loudly around the park. The birds quieted down in the trees as full totality took over and streetlights in the parking lot flickered on. 

Beside her his rich baritone voice – not quite Queens accented but decidedly not Texan – regaled her with his knowledge of eclipse lore. “Did you know that ancient Chinese cultures believed that a solar eclipse was a sign of doom? They believed that during a solar eclipse a dragon devoured the sun. To combat the dragon the Chinese would create lots of noise beating on pots and pans and drums to frighten the dragon away.” 

“But the indigenous tribes of Australia had the right idea in my opinion,” as his voice softened so that only she could hear him, “they believed the sun and the moon were star crossed lovers who on very rare occasions would come together. In other words, the eclipse was the moon mounting the sun. I think I like that belief better. I’m not much on dragons.”

At that point she felt him reach down and take her hand in his.  Somehow it felt right. Not magic, or electric like in one of those silly romcom movies of the 80s, just, well, natural. Lying here listening to him talk as he spun his tale of ancient beliefs somehow seemed like the place she belonged. Listening to a man of science passing on folklore from distant cultures and explaining the eclipse in a non “science-y” way that she was sure her editor would appreciate as well. She made a mental note to be sure and thank her editor for sending her to cowboy country just as the dragon dispelled the sun.