Sharing the Joy

Brian, perched ever so carefully on the edge of a bright red slide, felt a warmth spread through his bubbly brain. The Martian sun, usually a distant, pale disk, seemed to beam directly onto his jar, making the pinkish fluid inside shimmer. Beside him, Lily, her pigtails bouncing with every enthusiastic word, was describing the dizzying delights of a merry-go-round.

“And then,” she explained, her eyes wide with wonder, “it spins and spins, and you feel like you’re flying! Sometimes, if you’re really good, the grown-ups let you try to grab the shiny brass ring!”

Brian’s own jar jiggled slightly with excitement. He imagined himself, suspended in his glass container, spinning with the horses, his spectator tap shoes dangling, ready to tap out a merry rhythm. “On Mars,” he began, his voice a soft, bubbly hum, “we have… bouncy rocks. They don’t spin, but if you jump on them, WHOOSH! You go very high. Sometimes, you can see for miles and miles, all the red dust and the big, quiet mountains.”