Chapter Text
You can’t see the stars from NASA, thought Dr. Alfred Bellows as he looked out his office window. Out on the beach, the stars would be twinkling in all their glory, but at the place where everyone looked to the stars and raced to reach them, they remained hidden at night. The lights that the security of the project demanded hid them away.
It didn’t really matter. Dr. Bellows sighed. He wasn’t a romantic. He was a scientist who saw little sparks of ignited gases when he looked up at the night sky. They offered him no comfort. Unlike those he was surrounded by, he had no interest in reaching the stars personally. He didn’t share the love or excitement for space that the young men, with whom he worked every day, had.
But he did understand drive. The need to understand, to push boundaries and see what greatness could be found as those limits crumbled into dust. The human mind was what fascinated Alfred Bellows, and he worked with some of the most brilliant minds in the world. All of the psychiatrists he knew envied him.
He never admitted it to anyone, not even himself at the time, but he had quickly grown bored at this assignment. Most astronauts were remarkably alike in thinking and attitude. Fast cars and faster women for entertainment after a full day of hard working. Most did not understand the meaning of the word moderation, and to be honest, those were exactly the type of men that NASA needed.
It took a special kind of attitude to get into a capsule barely bigger than a sardine can with thousands of pounds of explosives beneath you.
Yes, Dr. Bellows had quickly grown bored of the perfect specimens with similar mental attitudes and backgrounds that NASA sent to him. Until one Captain Anthony Nelson joined the project.
He turned his attention away from the window and to the tall pile of box folders sitting on his desk, the name Nelson written on the side of each in bold black lettering. They all contained observations about Major Nelson, including the outlandish attitudes he sometimes expressed. Like drinking tea in an empty lot to commune with nature. Or drinking salt water. Or telling the then Captain Healey that houses get to be your friends like dogs and asking his friend to talk to the walls of his home—and his vacuum cleaner. Or writing an award-winning book on childcare—as a bachelor. Or being in love with two different safes (he really should try to come up with a name for that delusion).
Then, there were all the strange and unexplained events that happened around him continuously. The various animals like tigers and elephants appearing in his house, along with items like apple trees and sailboats. First Custer, a neighbor boy, and then Dr. Bellows saw him floating in air with no discernible means. He appeared in a wedding dress outside his office door and then less than twenty seconds later he was in his uniform. The lists went on and on.
He alone managed to keep Dr. Bellows from being bored. “Well, you don't fit into any known category. One minute you're calm, the next, you're hysterical. You can pass the most difficult test the Air Force has devised, and yet, you hear voices. You're a top scientist, and you suffer from delusions. You don't call that interesting? I can't wait to put you in a book,” he’d once told the other man.
Now Dr. Bellows needed to decide what to do with the notes he’d meticulously kept on that man.
Everything else in the office was already packed, but those files on the desk taunted him. He would never get the chance to figure out Anthony Nelson or put him in a book. Should he allow the younger man to have a clean slate with his replacement? Would his replacement even believe these files? And technically, Dr. Bellows was supposed to be returning after—No, he wouldn’t think about that. Not yet.
One breath at a time, Alfred, he told himself. One breath at a time.
He sank down into his office chair and picked up the first file. Anthony Nelson intrigued him from the moment he joined the program. Well, no, that wasn’t exactly true, he told himself. For the first year, Captain Nelson showed himself to be of strong moral character, strong work ethic, and a brilliant mathematical mind. And full of ambition. He and Captain Healy had formed a fast friendship, working hard every day, and spending every night out dining and dancing with different beautiful women.
It had taken six—eight?—months for Captain Nelson to meet someone and stop the carousing. He’d been instantly smitten when introduced to the beautiful daughter of General Stone, Melissa. It seemed to be a perfect pairing in many ways, but Dr. Bellows had never been sure if the young Captain Nelson had been in love with the actual woman or just the idea of the woman. She was beautiful, smart, charming—everything a career military officer could want in a wife and the daughter of a flag officer to boot.
But the ambitious Captain Nelson seemed reserved around his future bride. As if he believed his fiancée was supposed to be who and what he wanted in a wife more than he felt it. Oh, yes, he could give her passionate kisses, but he seemed restrained and withdrawn around her otherwise, so unlike how he was with the woman who did eventually become his bride. Dr. Bellows had not been surprised when the wedding was cancelled at the last moment, but the fact Melissa had been the one to call it off had been unexpected.
One of his most interesting contradictions—and there were many—was how the younger man felt about marriage. For all of his confessing to being a care-free bachelor at the time, Anthony Nelson always showed signs of craving stability. Unlike most of his fellow unmarried astronauts, he bought a house as soon as he transferred to Cocoa Beach instead of renting an apartment.
At the same time, Dr. Bellows never felt as if Major Nelson was ready for marriage. After his engagement to Melissa Stone ended, he’d seemed relieved instead of sad, and all of his dating afterwards, what there was of it, had seemed shallow and almost performative. None lasted more than one date. No picture of a serious girlfriend sat on his desk, or even in his home.
Dr. Bellows had closely studied him at the few NASA functions that required him to bring a date. He watched the bachelor often turn towards his companion and subtly react as if he expected to see someone else by his side. As if there was another he yearned to be there beside him.
No, Anthony Nelson seemed like an everyday average red-blooded American astronaut at first. Dr. Bellows glanced at his notes. Yes, everything had seemed perfectly normal until after the ill-fated Stardust One mission. The last booster had failed to ignite, and Captain Nelson had ended up on a desert island in the Pacific instead of in orbit. After returning to the base, he informed Dr. Bellows of a hallucination he had in which he found a beautiful genie in a bottle. A female genie, of course.
Dr. Bellows chuckled at the memory. A perfectly normal fantasy for any red-blooded male to have. Shame it hadn’t been real. Major Nelson’s genie could explain all the weirdness that happened in the years since.
He froze, staring down at the file with unseeing eyes. If it had been real…. He shook his head. No. Ridiculous. He was a scientist. He knew magic didn’t exist. Absolutely ridiculous.
Except how many times had he heard the word “genie” over the years? “At a temperature of two hundred degrees Fahrenheit, the inverse ration proportion will be equal to twenty genies,” Major Nelson once wrote, claiming it was slang for gallons. According to General Petterson, it was at the same time he’d been declaring his love for the Ordinance Department. “Girl problems,” the General had muttered.
How many times had various people talked about seeing a small woman, big enough to hide in pencil boxes? Or a woman in a harem costume? Wouldn’t a beautiful genie wear a harem costume?
“The one he made disappear in a puff of smoke,” Custer had said about the mysterious blonde lady at Captain Nelson’s that only the child had seen.
“She wears a funny little outfit like she popped out of an Arabian Haram. She blinks her eyes and things pop in and out,” Rodney Pomfret said with absolute confidence.
“He has a girlfriend who—she can make herself this small. She hides in pencil boxes. She can move people around, see, from one place to another,” that sleezy reporter Charlie Farnum told him before opening his briefcase full of bubble gum that was supposed to be full of photographic proof.
“You’ll be very happy to know that’s she’s not in the pencil box either,” Amanda had told him that crazy night they had believed the worst of Jeannie. He had never asked her what she meant by that non sequitur, but he was sure Major Healey, who she had been talking to before him, had something to do with it.
And, of course, he and Amanda had housed a woman they believed to be Major Nelson’s wife. A woman in a harem costume who later claimed to be a genie Major Nelson had found. They’d felt foolish for not listening to Major Nelson’s denials, but Dr. Bellows had believed it only because of Major Nelson’s reaction when told about the lady staying at the Bellows home. He had panicked, to put it mildly.
Strangely, neither he nor Amanda could actually remember what the lady looked like. Sometimes he believed she was a blonde or brunette, but Amanda was certain she had been a red head. Nor could they remember exactly how the harem costume looked, not even the color. Which, for two people with usually razor-sharp memories, was very odd.
Here, at the end of his time at NASA, could he have finally figured out Major Anthony Nelson? Dr. Bellows training was screaming at him for being a fool, but the part of him that was desperate, the part that needed a small sliver of hope, the part that was now grasping for that small chance, said it was true. The evidence over the years all pointed to one conclusion.
Anthony Nelson had found a beautiful genie in a bottle, and then over four years later married her.
Dr. Bellows lost his breath. Of course. Jeannie. The beautiful young woman who adored Anthony Nelson. And Anthony Nelson had no problem wearing his heart on his sleeve for the woman he’d suddenly married. It had all the appearances of whirlwind romance except the two people getting married seemed to know each other perfectly. They appeared to communicate without words often. Their facial expressions and gestures were usually in perfect sync, as if they’d known one another intimately for years.
He slapped the thick folder down on the desk as he jumped up from his chair. It was getting late, but he needed to get to the Nelson’s right now. He needed to ask a question, to make a plea. As he quickly strolled through the corridors towards the main entrance, he realized he didn’t even know if the Nelsons were home. It didn’t matter. He would wait on their front porch all night if he had to.
One breath at a time, Alfred, he told himself. One breath at a time.
---
It was Jeannie who answered the door. As usual, she looked lovely and had a warm and welcoming smile on her face. She took a step back and ushered him in. “Hello, Dr. Bellows. I’m afraid Anthony is not here. He and Roger went over to Lieutenant Taylor’s for the game.”
Even as he told himself he should wait for Major Nelson’s return, he stepped inside the house. He had to know the answer to one question. The list inside his head that kept growing as he thought about every unexplained incident surrounding his subordinate could wait. Only one question mattered: could Jeannie be the answer he desperately needed?
“I was hoping to speak to both of you,” he said, clutching his cap in is hand. “I-I-well, I don’t even—” He chuckled nervously. How do you politely ask a woman if she’s a magical being?
He noticed the bottle sitting in the small niche above the fireplace. A simple but beautiful bottle. They once had a copy of it in their own home. He could still remember how upset Major Nelson had been when they borrowed it to copy it. And later when Melvin had “borrowed” it for the “lady in the bottle”—a story he’d once blamed on comic books but now believed to be true. He would need to find a way to apologize to the boy. It was even the same bottle that Dr. Bellows once heard Tony Nelson profess that he’d like to marry.
Jeannie gasped and reached to stop him from taking the bottle down before stopping herself. It was obviously very precious to her. Dr. Bellows stared at it. It was just a bottle. Its weight seemed to be so normal, and it fit so easily in his hand, for something that was changing Alfred Bellows entire world view.
“This is the bottle he found you in,” he said before he thought.
Jeannie’s gasp was one of fear. She then forced out a high-pitched chuckle and took two steps away from him. “Found me in? What an odd thing to say, Dr. Bellows!”
Dr. Bellows struggled to gather his thoughts, his focus shifting between the bottle (so many questions!), and the pale, wide-eyed face of a friend. He shook his head and forced himself to put the bottle back gently into the tiny space made especially for it. “I’m sorry. I’m muddling this.”
Jeannie took a few more steps back towards the kitchen. “I-I should call Lieutenant Taylor’s house and ask Anthony to come home!”
“Please,” he said, holding out his hands. “I’m sorry. I’m not a threat to you or Tony.”
She hesitated at the use of her husband’s first name. He personally had only said the name a few times in reference to his subordinate. Not only because he enjoyed the formality of the military, but because it was his nature to keep a barrier between him and other people. Amanda was the only one he allowed to see him with his guard down.
Amanda…
One breath at a time, Alfred, he told himself. One breath at a time.
“I-I came to ask--” He glanced over at the couch and gestured towards it. “Please, may we sit?” Jeannie was still pale and wide-eyed and looked as skittish as a baby doe.
She nibbled on her lip but then nodded. She waited for him to walk down the front of the couch first, so that she could sit on the side nearest to the door and kitchen. She faced him, her back against the arm rest, one leg tucked beneath her.
Her uneasiness was noted by Dr. Bellows. He reminded himself that she was a genie. Or at least he believed she was. What did that mean? What kind of powers did she have? Could she freeze him in place? Send him to Siberia? Leave in a puff of smoke?
“He told me, you know,” he said, sitting his hat down on the coffee table. Jeannie started to shake her head, obviously knowing her husband wouldn’t. “When he first got back to the base from the Pacific, after Stardust One. He told me that he’d hallucinated finding a beautiful genie in a bottle.” A soft chuckle escaped his lips. “I told him you represented his mother, and he later claimed it was a prank.”
Jeannie’s hand twitched where it rested on the back of the couch, and she looked towards the phone sitting on the kitchen counter. “I’m not a threat to you and Tony,” he told her again. “I’m going to be taking leave from NASA.”
She gave him her complete focus. Could genie’s read minds? “But why?”
He couldn’t say the words. Not yet. He’d have to say them soon but not yet.
“I’m sure Tony will not be upset to see me go.”
“Anthony has always said you are a good man, and NASA cannot afford to lose you,” Jeannie protested.
His smile was genuine. He thought of all the times he had been saved from certain termination from the program. Like the time Dr. Corbett was discovered with a bear sitting on him, ending his very brief reign as staff psychiatrist. Jeannie and Tony, and possibly Roger Healy, had played a hand in that, he now knew. They had saved his career. Even if he didn’t exactly know how.
Of course, they were also responsible for it being in danger in the first place. Not now, Dr. Bellows told himself. Not now.
“I’m glad he feels that way,” he admitted. At his rank and position, he knew that most of the men viewed him more as a bother than an aid, but he also knew that the work he performed was important. It was nice to hear that it was appreciated by some. Maybe it meant even more knowing it was appreciated by the one man who had many reasons to want him gone.
But to return to the reason he was here. Taking in a deep breath, he steeled himself to say the words. It would be the first time they had passed his lips. But he had to know if there was hope. And the only way to know was to ask.
“Jeannie.” Stop. Breathe. Focus. “I came to ask a favor. I need to know.”
Her mouth dropped open. She started to shake her head. “Oh, I cannot—”
“Amanda is dying.” The words escaped, blasted out of him like bullets from a machine gun.
Jeannie stood up, taking a step away from him. Away from the truth he spoke. “No, she has just had a few headaches for the last few weeks--”
“And a seizure,” Dr. Bellows whispered. “Cancer. It has already moved to her brain.”
Jeannie sank back down onto the couch. “No.”
He scooted closer to her and laid his hand on her forearm. He needed to know, now, the one question that he must have answered about Jeannie tonight. “Can you save her?”
It seemed to take Jeannie a moment to understand, and then her eyes filled with tears. He had his answer before she spoke. “I am not that powerful. I-I have no control over life and death, Dr. Bellows.”
The tiny sliver of hope that had been born earlier at NASA shattered into stardust. Rage for a supreme being he didn’t even believe in filled him. Why? Why let him have that moment of hope only to take it away again!
Jeannie’s quiet sobs broke into his despair. He reached into his pocket and handed her a handkerchief. “She is very fond of you, you know.”
Jeannie dabbed at her eyes, even as more tears replaced the ones she dried. “She-she has always been very nice and so kind to me. So helpful.”
The sound of the front door closing surprised them both. “Jeannie, what a game! Roge has gone to his place to get his new record—”
Anthony Nelson froze at the sight greeting him in his living room. His shoulders slightly slumped and his Adam’s apple bopped when he noticed Dr. Bellows on his couch.
“I’ve noticed that Major Nelson looks very worried around you, Sir,” a spy once told him.
His eyes moved to see his crying wife on the couch. Any signs of nervousness evaporated. In its place was a fierce protectiveness, a desire to guard her no matter the cost. “What is going on here, Sir?” Major Nelson asked in a clipped voice.
“Oh, Anthony,” Jeannie said as she rushed into his arms. Major Nelson grabbed her close and slightly turned his body as if to protect her from the invader in their home.
“I shared some distressing news with Jeannie and upset her, I’m afraid.” Distressing? His entire world was being demolished second by second. There was a life before Amanda. A life after meeting Amanda. But how could there be a life after Amanda? In a world where she no longer breathed, no longer smiled, no longer added joy to his life?
“I am taking leave from the project.”
Major Nelson glanced down at his wife’s head, safely tucked into his shoulder, as he gently rubbed her back. “Sir?”
He forced the horrible words out of his mouth again. “Amanda is dying.”
Dr. Bellows noticed how the major’s arm twitched, drawing his wife even closer. “I’m sorry, Sir.”
He nodded. “I had to come and ask Jeannie if she could save her.”
The nervousness returned and magnified. “Sir?”
“You told me,” he said. “When you returned from the Stardust One mission. How you imagined a beautiful woman—” He gestured towards Jeannie. “Coming out of a bottle—” He gestured towards said bottle and chuckled. “And I told you it was your mother. Having met your mother, I can assure you that Jeannie is not her.”
“No, Sir,” Major Nelson laughed a second before realizing what was said. Jeannie was looking up at her husband, her bottom lip drawn in by her teeth. Her hands clutched at his sweater. “I will resign my commission, Sir.”
His eyebrows shot up. “That would be a waste to the space program. Why?”
“Why?” Major Nelson’s voice had gone up a pitch, and he was speaking faster than normal. “I’m not sure what General Schaeffer will say when you—”
“I’m leaving the project, Tony. My desk only has on it one pile of folders left to box. I won’t even be there on Monday morning when you return from this weekend. You won’t even have to worry about me being in Cocoa Beach. Amanda has decided to forgo any treatment, and we are moving to her family’s farm. As long as you promise you’ve never used Jeannie to get ahead—”
“No, Sir!”
“I somehow didn’t believe you had.” He shook his head. “Major Healey, perhaps, would in your place. I assume he knows.”
Man and wife froze, giving Dr. Bellows the answer he already knew. He started to reassure them again when the man in question opened the door and strolled in. “Wait until you two hear this album! It really….” His voice trailed off as he took in the tableau in front of him.
“Well, if you all will excuse me, I need to return home to my wife. It’s been a pleasure working with you, Tony, Roger.”
“Sir?” Major Healey kept stealing glances at his friends, searching for answers.
“Major Nelson will explain,” Dr. Bellows said, picking up his cap, and then walking past his former subordinates. He reached for the door handle and glanced towards the bedroom. Well, it wouldn’t hurt to ask one more question surely. He turned.
“May I ask one question, Major Nelson?”
“Sir?”
“Why an elephant in the bedroom?”
Major Healey paled and started twisting his fingers together as he managed to barely hold onto the album he’d brought in with him. “An elephant in the bedroom, Sir?” The “sir” was almost a squeak.
Major Nelson and his wife looked into each other’s eyes and seemed to come to a decision together. “Jeannie didn’t like the fact I never made any big wishes and asked me to make one. And an elephant is the biggest thing I could think of, Sir.” Major Healey froze, looking as if he wished he could fade into the wall behind him at his friend’s answer.
Dr. Bellows’ jaw dropped open a little. “You could have had anything in the world, and the biggest thing you could think of was an elephant? Major, you are still an interesting case study!”
“Thank you, Sir. I think,” Major Nelson said, his wife pulled tightly to his side.
“Good night, everyone,” he said as he walked out the door shaking his head. An elephant was the biggest thing he could think of? Ridiculous. And, yet, fitting with that strong moral character that Dr. Bellows observed during Major Nelson’s first year with the project.
“Have you lost your mind?” he could hear Major Healey say through the closed door. Each word spoken gaining volume over the one spoken before.
“Yes, Roger, I believe I have,” Dr. Bellows murmured in reply, even though the question wasn’t directed at him. Putting on his cap, he stared at the stars. They twinkled brightly now but still offered no comfort. He took a deep breath and began to walk down the block to his home. The home that now had the heavy weight of death lingering in the air.
One breath at a time, Alfred, he told himself. One breath at a time.