The Sleeping Spaceman

The stranger curled up in her bed was particularly out of place. He was a spaceman, completely in uniform. His white thermal suit was covered in patches of dirt. The dark visor didn’t allow the slightest glimpse of the spaceman’s face. There were all sorts of buttons and straps along the suit, and it looked very hot inside. The whole thing must have weighed at least a hundred pounds. And yet, he lay there peacefully with his knees tucked into his chest as if this was the most common occurrence in the world.

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The couple lived a comfortable life together. They resided in a beautiful townhouse in an affluent neighborhood. Their work allowed them to take vacations often. They were well-off, healthy, sociable, and almost entirely content. If it weren’t for the non-existence of the child they so desperately craved, their lives would be perfect.

After about a year of trying for a child, the couple sought medical advice. The doctors had told them that biologically conceiving a child at their age—much less a healthy one—would be unlikely. The couple, who had only met five years previously, in their forties, were disheartened.

Suddenly, their house with so many extra bedrooms had lost its purpose. The vast amount of money they possessed seemed like a burden. They weren’t materialistic people. They didn’t want more. They had every watch, every purse, every shoe they could possibly need. But what was there to do with it now if not to help foster and grow their family?

Disappointment hung over their heads like a dark cloud. The husband wished so desperately to have a child with this woman. He had given her everything he could have to give, yet he was helpless in fulfilling this one wish.

The wife, who dreamed of being a mother for so many years, felt a cold emptiness inside her. She cried and cried, finding solace only in her lover’s arms.

They would often lay in bed and talk deep into the night.

“If only we had met sooner, dear,” the husband would tell her.

“I would have given birth to the perfect child. Wouldn’t I have, my love?” the wife asked.

“Yes, you would have,” the husband agreed. “She’d be a girl with your eyes. One that is so beautiful no name would do her justice. She would have a delicate kindness to her.”

“Or perhaps a boy with your wit and your strength. One that would grow up to be a fine man.”

Thoughts of this would-be child brought them a momentary, cathartic relief from their reality. But moments passed, and soon, the wife would cry into his arms again.

On the tenth of October, the wife left the office early. Her mind wasn’t in it that day, and there would have been no point in staying. It wasn’t an issue. She was a partner at the firm, so there was no one to argue against her taking an early exit.

She returned home at four in the afternoon and set her bag down. Her sister was visiting them in a week’s time, so she did some extra cleaning to prepare. She cleaned one of the bathrooms, washed the living room, and tidied the bookshelves.

When she finished the first floor, she decided to prepare the guestroom for her sister. Upon entering the guestroom, however, the wife gasped and brought her hands to her mouth.

There was an intruder in her home. In fact, he was sleeping in one of her beds. The wife had never been a victim of a crime, much less a break-in. As such, she stood in place, petrified.

The wife didn’t scream. Instead, she shut the door and ran to call the police. Unbeknownst to her, however, the telephone poles in the neighborhood had been malfunctioning since the morning. The wife wasn’t one to use foul language. On the tenth of October, however, she made an exception and called her telephone a particularly vile name.

She ran to the kitchen, grabbed a knife to defend herself, and returned to the guestroom. The wife stood by the door and clutched the knife against her chest. She figured it would be better to keep an eye on the intruder as opposed to running out of the house. Who knew what the spaceman could do to their home if left unattended?

Yes, I’ll stay here and watch him, she thought. The husband would soon be back, and then one of them would run to the police station.

She monitored the spaceman, awaiting any sudden movement. The spaceman, however, continued to stay still. The only indication that he was alive was the rhythmic heaving of his chest as he breathed in and out. It was only after a few minutes that she realized he was asleep.

The husband arrived forty minutes later. He slammed the entrance door behind him and called out to his wife. Relief like she’d never felt before swept over her as she ran to him.

The husband looked puzzled as the wife explained the situation to him.

“I don’t understand,” he said.

“What’s not to understand?” she whispered, afraid of waking the intruder on the other side of the house. “He has appeared out of nowhere. God knows how long he’s been here.”

“I wish to take a look, myself, before we do anything rash,” the husband said. He placed his large hand over the wife’s in an effort to calm her. In her other hand, she continued to hold the kitchen knife for dear life. He did not say a word about that.

He made his way to the guestroom, and his wife trailed cautiously behind. The husband finally looked at the spaceman and crossed his arms. A moment later, he nodded as if understanding a sudden epiphany.

“He’s sleeping, dear,” the husband whispered.

“I know.”

“He must be very tired.”

“I am not disturbed by his sleeping. I am disturbed that he is doing it in our home.”

The husband took a step closer to the man in the bed. He looked for a few more seconds and then turned back to his wife. “We should let him stay,” he said.

The wife didn’t know how to respond. She just looked offended that her lover would say something so nonsensical.

“He’s not a common criminal,” the husband defended. “They don’t just send anyone up to space, you know.”

“They’ve sent monkeys and dogs to space, my love.”

“He’s clearly not here intentionally. It seems he only seeks a moment of rest. Once he has recuperated, we will send him off.”

The wife hesitated to speak.

“Are we the kind of people who turn their backs to those in need? Much less lonesome wanderers of the cosmos?”

The wife shook her head.

“Then it is settled,” the husband said. He glanced out the window to see the setting sun. Then, he made his way out of the guestroom.

“Where are you going?” the wife asked.

“To fetch him a blanket. This night will be a cold one.”

The spaceman slept in the same position for the next two days. The couple watched over him, and the husband rubbed his beard as he observed him. “We should turn him over to the other side. I am worried that he will develop sores.”

The wife, who didn’t want to touch the spaceman, stepped back. “And what if we wake him?”

The husband initially ignored the wife’s concern as he continued to look at the spaceman. “It has been too long since he has moved. He needs to sleep on the other side.” He turned to his wife to address her question. “If he wakes, then surely we will come closer to being rid of him, yes?”

“I suppose so.”

The husband reached a hand out to the spaceman’s side. The man in the bed, however, immediately lifted his gloved hand.

The wife gasped, and the husband took an involuntary step back. The spaceman slowly waved his hand dismissively, then turned to the other side of the bed by himself. His chest began to rise and fall again as sleep overtook him once more.

“He can hear us,” the wife said and met the husband’s gaze. She called out to the spaceman, but he did not respond.

“Let us not disturb him. When he is ready, he will speak.”

The wife cooked dinner, and the couple split a bottle of wine. They did not speak much at the table. Given their circumstances, both of them were aware that discussing everyday topics would sound disingenuous. They ate quietly until the husband finally spoke up. “You’ve made more than usual.”

“Yes,” the wife said and nabbed at her mouth with a napkin. “I want to bring the spaceman a plate.”

The husband raised his eyebrows.

“He needs to eat too, doesn’t he? We can’t have him die on our watch, my love.”

The husband smiled and felt a sudden surge of pride for marrying this woman.

As promised, the wife fixed dinner for the spaceman and brought it to the guestroom. The husband went with her to ease her worries. She gently set a tray down at the foot of the bed. “In case you can hear me,” the wife said, “I’ve brought you some dinner. It’s best when it’s hot, but if it comes to it, I can reheat it.”

The spaceman did not move or speak. The couple left the room but left the door ajar. Throughout the night, the wife would take a peek inside. The spaceman continued to sleep, and the tray of food had gotten cold. Admittedly disappointed, she shut the door completely. “I will not lose sleep over him,” the wife told the husband late into the night. “He will have to eat it cold.”

The husband and the wife woke up early in the morning. There was an unspoken tension between them that they were not sure how to address. They had both taken two days off work since the spaceman had arrived. They could not leave him, of course, but they could no longer ignore their responsibilities either.

The couple went to check on their guest. The husband opened the door, and the corners of his mouth turned into a smile. “Would you look at that,” he said. The plate of food was completely empty, and a crumpled napkin lay in the corner of the tray. “It appears he is more of a private eater.”

The wife was pleased and picked up the tray. A few minutes later, she returned with breakfast for him and softly said, “We are leaving for work and will be back in the afternoon. Be good now.” She shut the door behind herself.

The night before the wife’s sister was set to arrive, the couple made their final preparations. They had an additional room for the sister to stay in but made sure to clean the spaceman’s as well. “I wonder what she will think of him,” the wife told the husband. She had been wiping down the stains and dirty patches on the spaceman’s suit. She wanted him to look presentable for the sister. The spaceman did not seem to mind. He compliantly lay while she worked.

“That, we will find out soon,” the husband said.

“I hope she will not make a fuss about someone else staying with us at the same time.”

“She is a sensible woman. I do not see that occurring. But if such were to happen, we would remind her that he is as much of a guest in our home as she is.”

Satisfied with her work, the wife took a step back. “Have you noticed that he hasn’t gone to the restroom once all this time?” she asked.

“He hasn’t wet the bed, dear.”

“I am aware. I’m just curious, that’s all.”

“I’m sure he has a tube somewhere in that suit of his to collect the urine.”

“And his other excretions?”

The husband tilted his head like a curious dog. When he couldn’t come up with a reasonable explanation, he retreated back into the hallway. “Best we let him sleep, dear.”

As it turned out, the sister did not have the slightest issue with the spaceman’s presence. During the entirety of her stay, she looked at him with the same fondness one does at a wounded puppy. The sister asked questions that the couple did not have answers to.

“Where is his rocket ship? He had to have come down in a rocket ship, surely?”

“We do not know.”

“Do you think he is in contact with—whatcha-ma-call it—NASA?”

“We do not know.”

“I bet he isn’t married. Otherwise, he’d be some lousy husband who avoids his wife like that. Don’t you think so?”

“We do not know.”

Her youthful vitality lit up the home, and the couple was inevitably disappointed when she had to leave. The sister, however, was more sorry about having to say goodbye to the spaceman. On her last night, she insisted that the three of them have dinner with him.

“We can’t move him,” the husband said.

“So we’ll bring the food to the room.”

“He doesn’t like to eat in the presence of others,” the wife said.

“Then we’ll eat, and he’ll listen in on the conversation.”

So they did just that. They set a folding table out, and the three of them ate at the foot of the bed. The spaceman, of course, slept silently. In the morning, the food that the wife set aside for him was consumed just as usual.

The couple and the spaceman had fallen into a routine as the days went by. The wife made sure to feed him regularly. At times, she worried that she was treating him like a pet rather than a person, so she compensated by baking cookies for him and turning on the record player.

The husband cleaned the guestroom once a week. In the mornings, he would read the newspaper to the spaceman. He described the comic strip as well and laughed out loud occasionally. The spaceman did not laugh, but the husband liked to think he heard them anyway. Perhaps he even smiled under that dark helmet of his.

Halloween soon came around. The couple was festive and set up little decorations around the house. They put a few cobwebs and toy spiders in the spaceman’s room. They did not want him to feel left out.

Trick-or-treaters came in the afternoon, and the couple gave out candy. They were well respected around the neighborhood, so they had many visitors. Despite that, they spared no compliments and recognized each child for their costume.

There was one child in particular who made the couple’s Halloween that year: a little boy who wore a spaceman helmet. If only he knew who was inside our home, the husband thought. He couldn’t help but slip the boy a few extra pieces of candy.

Later that night, the wife placed the remaining treats next to the spaceman’s dinner. “Listen now, don’t eat it all at once. You’ll ruin your teeth if you do, and you’re too heavy to bring to the dentist,” she warned.

On Thanksgiving day, the wife and the husband set the table in their home. They did not have family coming to visit them, so it would be just the two of them. They did not mind so much. In their eyes, they were each other’s best company.

As they sat down to eat, they paused. Their hands hovered over the utensils, and then they looked at each other. No words were exchanged. They both knew what the other wanted.

The folding table in the guestroom comfortably held all the food. The wife and the husband poured wine for the spaceman and set the glass on his tray.

“Now, don’t feel any pressure to finish all of this,” the wife told the spaceman. “I don’t want you to stuff yourself silly. It’s bad for the stomach to overeat.”

“Nonsense,” the husband said. He turned to the sleeping spaceman and said, “She has worked very hard to prepare this delicious meal for us. I want you to at least try a little bit of everything.”

The wife gave her husband a thankful smile. She told the gentleman to sit still while she brought up the dessert. Soon, the couple cleaned after themselves and left the spaceman to eat his Thanksgiving dinner. The wife took it as a compliment when the spaceman left five empty plates the next morning.

The week before Christmas, the wife knit the spaceman a sweater. It was a mix of green and blue patterns. She thought that, given his profession, he would appreciate a color palette that resembled the Earth.

The husband warned her that the sweater wouldn’t fit over his suit.

“I am not delusional, my love,” she said. “He’ll wear it once he’s out of the suit.”

“Of course,” the husband agreed. The wife had wrapped the sweater and, on Christmas Eve, left it in the spaceman’s room. It was only right that he should wake up to a present, she thought,

Christmas morning that year, however, was a profound disappointment for the couple. They had just walked into the guestroom, hot chocolate in hand, only to discover that the spaceman they had been caring for the last few months was nowhere in sight. The bed was made, and the windows were closed. There was not a crumb of evidence to suggest that someone had stayed in the room.

The wife set her mug down on the end table. She looked around in disbelief. When she turned to her husband, there were tears in her eyes. The husband embraced her immediately, and the wife began to sob. The husband mechanically rubbed her back, lost in his own thoughts. Not even so much as a goodbye, he wondered.

Feelings of loss swept over them so abruptly that they never even noticed that the spaceman’s gift had been taken.

On the sixteenth of January in the new year, the wife returned from work in the afternoon. She climbed up the steps to the house and retrieved the mail. Once she flipped through the bills and advertisements, she settled on the envelope. It was addressed to her and the husband. There was no note of who it was from, so she decided to open it inside the house.

The wife leaned over the kitchen table as she opened the envelope. Her eyes widened as she realized what she was looking at. It was a photograph of a spaceman—her spaceman.

He was floating carelessly in some sort of space station, and one of his gloved hands waved toward the camera. His helmet remained on, but instead of the white suit the wife was accustomed to seeing, the spaceman wore her sweater. Neatly written in the corner of the photograph was, “Merry Christmas and Happy Holidays. See you next year.”

The wife cupped her mouth, and a wide grin broke out underneath her hand. This time, a different kind of tear flowed from her eye.

Jonathan Glinsky is a writer living in New York City. He writes short stories and novels. In his free time, he enjoys playing tennis, exploring the city, and traveling.