Candles in Space

MY BIRTHDAY WAS going to be extra special for two reasons. For one thing, like Commander Park said, “Nobody’s ever turned nine in space before, David.”

- Pamela Love

Mom, my sister Rebekah, and I were moving to Mars for a year. We’d spent almost two weeks in the spaceship so far. It would take another thirty days before we got to the Martian colony.

I was trying to keep the other reason secret. But the day before my birthday, Rebekah caught me with my cheeks puffed way out. “What are you doing? Practicing to blow out all the candles this year?” She laughed.

“This time I will,” I said. “Everybody on the ship will be watching, so—”

“Oh, David,” my sister interrupted. “Your cake can’t have candles.”

“Why not?” “Everyone knows fire on a space ship is too dangerous.” When I turned away, she patted my shoulder. “At least you don’t have to worry about blowing them all out.”

“Yeah. Look, don’t tell Mom about this, okay? I don’t want her to feel bad about it. It’s not her fault candles aren’t safe in space.” Our mother has an important job, maintaining the ship’s electrical systems.