True Stories: Aggstiment in Space

“Tommy?”

I had been dreading it, but as soon as my name was called, I grabbed the book and headed for the front of the class. Get it done, get back to what mattered: looking out the window and daydreaming. Probably wasn't much good at book reports anyway, because I wasn't much good at arithmetic, social studies (whatever they were) or speling. But at least I was prepared- I had actually read the book I was about to report on.

Rockets were just about the neatest thing ever invented, and with John Glenn and Alan Shepard and Yuri Gagarin floating around in space all the time, I lived it day and night, pouring over pictures, building models and even reading(!) about anything and everything that could get into orbit.

Which lead me to my first book report, age nine, Grade Four, Jameswood Public School in Winnipeg.

I could feel the other kids watching me as I walked to the front. Probably not used to seeing me up there without being in trouble and/or getting the strap, something with which I had entertained the class three times this year. Three times so far. But the school year was almost over, and life would be bliss if I could just get through the last few weeks without a misplaced report card (strap #1) or talking too loudly (straps #2 and #3). Well, 'talking too loudly' was maybe a stretch; it might have been more like talking in the middle of class. To no one in particular. 

"Go ahead." Mr. Merrick, he of the dark eyes and even darker scowl, especially when I wandered outside the boundaries of his tightly-controlled rules, something which came quite easily to me. Apparently, I was 'fidgety', but who wouldn't be when there was so much other stuff going on, like the lady walking outside with her funny-looking dog, or Darryl one row over picking at a scab. You know, other stuff. And it was going on, all the time.

"Tommy? Go ahead."

Took a breath. Get it started, get in done.

"My book report is on Aggstiment in Space, by Rip Foster."  Even the author's name was way neat; I had never, ever met someone whose actual name was 'Rip'

I (ahem) launched right in, pulling Toby and Marilyn and Cort and the rest of the class right into the world of Rip Foster, Planeteer, as he traveled to the asteroid belt and back with the Space Force. I knew I had them hooked; how could they not be interested in space ships and asteroids and battles against the "Consolidation of Peoples Governments", who were the bad guys because their name was sort of like thosedamncommies my father kept talking about.

It felt like a particularly insightful and detailed presentation (all of two minutes long), and when I was finished, I knew I had done it right. There might have been applause, I don't remember; I do remember the expressions of amazement on some of my classmates' faces, probably because I hadn't wandered off in mid-sentence to talk to someone, or wondered aloud when it was time for recess.

And best of all, I hadn't made anything up, not a single thing.

I was particularly good at making things up, a source of great friction with my teachers in Grades Two, Three and now Four. Particularly in Grade Four; Mr. Merrick was not what you - or anyone else - would call a happy man, and his expression would get very dark, very quickly if you said something that wasn't exactly true (or as he referred to it, 'told a lie'). He didn't like 'lies', even if they were small, white and inadvertent. Or big, fat and juicy.

So when he said, "I'm impressed, Tommy. That was good report," I knew I had really done it. To impress Mr. Merrick, he of the hair-trigger and brooding eyes, was... well, impressive.

Then his brow furrowed. "What's the name of the book?"

"Aggstiment in Space, by Rip Foster." You said it like that, the title, then the author.

"Show us."

I held it up. It was beautiful hard-cover book, a Christmas present from my parents. The spaceship on the front cover, blasting away at- I paused and spread both covers dramatically- the spaceship on the back. War in space. What could be more exciting than that?

'What's an 'Aggstiment'?"

Trust Mr. Merrick to zero in on the one thing I didn't quite understand about the book. In fact, I had no idea what an Aggstiment was. But I had a theory. "It's the name of one of the spaceships."  Theories were good, I think.

"Really?"

The tone should have warned me. When you're nine years old, you survive another day by learning to pay attention to tone. But I was feeling so good with what I had just done that my tone radar wasn't working properly.

"Ya," I said off-handedly. "One of the spaceships that helps Rip in the battle is called Aggstiment." And because I had read the book, not Mr. Merrick, and because I thought it was a pretty good theory, I added, "They launch it from Cape Canaveral, and they named it for his mother or something." Sounded plausible enough, even though none of the spaceships had names at all. I could never figure out why that word was even there.

"Uh-huh," he said, dark eyes staring. Dead dark eyes staring. "Just so you know, you pronounce the title like this: Assignment in Space."

Oh.

Well, that made more sense; I knew what an assignment was, I just had never seen in written down. Assignment in Space. Their job was in space; that's what an 'Assignment' was.

Not the name of a spaceship named after the hero's mother. Not something that was sort-of made up, and not exactly true.

Tom New