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“On this day, we say thanks,” Jay spoke, holding hands with the two accompanying him at the spaceship table. “Firstly, I am thankful that this spaceship is still in mighty-fine shape.” He opened his eyes to stare at Jacob.
“Oh, please. Get on with it,” Jacob growled under his breath, his eyes remaining closed. He didn’t appreciate jokes, especially around his turkey.
Jay rolled his eyes. “I’m oh so sorry, my dear Jacob. Oh, won’t you forgive me?” He hummed in an obvious playful tone.
“Jay, stop! He’s going to get mad . . .” Jake mumbled, shuddering at the sharp tone in Jacob’s voice. He knew by heart how messy things would get if Jacob were angered; it was ingrained in his memory after last time. He shot Jay a dirty look, receiving one back.
“Fine, fine,” Jay sighed, closing his eyes. “We bless this meal, and pray our ship remains intact. Whatever,” Jay groaned, breaking the link created between the three hands. “Can we dig in now?”
“Will you cut it out?” Jacob practically yelled. He took hold of the knife he spent hours shining and sharpening, readying himself to carve into his precious turkey. He held the knife to the crisp, steaming skin of the bird, and sunk into its cooked flesh. The scent sprung out, dancing its way into the keen noses of Jay and Jake. A sound had also found its way to the keen ears of the two.
“Did you hear that?” Jake asked, trying to mask the worried tone in his voice. The quiver that rolled off his tongue was no help.
“What is it?” Jay asked, clear confusion painted across his face.
Jacob only groaned. “Why do you guys do this? The one day of the year I can feel thankful and glad, joyful even. I can feel passionate about my passions.” He growled out, almost howling. “Why do you guys do this?” He repeated, emphasizing every word.
“I’m being serious, Jacob. Did you not hear it?” Jake questioned.
“You’re not funny.”
A loud bang echoed into the room where they were dining, and realization struck Jacob’s bulky face.
“Did you hear that?” Jay snickered.
Jacob rose from his chair, walking to the window which showed the entire galaxy they lay afloat in. To the left of his view, he saw an asteroid had collided with the Alpha Magnetic Spectrometer. He groaned in response. “I have to go do repairs before we can eat. Cover the turkey and come help me, please.” Jacob trudged away. The other two swiftly covered the precious turkey and followed Jacob closely.
They helped him get prepared to go outside: putting on his space suit, retrieving his tools, and hooking him up to the anchor safety tethers. Soon, the airlock was open, and he found himself leaving the threshold of safety, venturing off into the vacuum known as space. With his tools in hand, he set off down the spacewalk.
Once he reached the Alpha Magnetic Spectrometer, he set to work. Jacob’s hands glided from his side to the technology, smoothly fixing it up, almost too smoothly. When he went to switch his tool, it slipped from his hand, floating off into the unknown. His hand flew outwards, his legs pushing him upwards, hoping to grasp what he had lost. Not a single thought of worry crossed his mind as he remembered the tethers holding him, keeping him from any danger.
Jacob’s hand met the cold handle of the tool, a sigh of relief escaping his throat. He closed his eyes and stepped his foot down to continue his work, but it hit nothing. As his eyes shot open, he was met with a harsh realization; he was no longer on the spaceship. The tethers once holding him were no longer present, not even in sight, as though they had just vanished. His scattering eyes found the window he once looked out, seeing an uncovered turkey, and no one. No one. It was only then he had realized he was truly alone in space with no one but himself.
“I will never get to eat my turkey,” He whispered as he floated off into the empty vacuum of space.