“Kun de man, come sing me a love song, for I am blue and and listening to you makes me swoon.” Laughter followed that request.
Kun Dee ignored it; ever since the affable Filipino scientist had joined the crew his name had become the butt of every joke. All because the bespectacled egghead had a fondness for kundimans–the Filipino word for love songs. And she’d slipped and used the Filipino word once in front of Motormouth Martin, the comedian who’d just made the asinine request.
Had the woman not possessed a thousand watt smile and the kind of quiet competence a mission like this needs, he would have sent her packing. But she did and he didn’t really care if his crew blew off the tension by making jokes. When push came to shove, he was the commander and they’d follow him anywhere.
So what if he had to field requests for silly things like love songs? They didn’t actually expect him to spout one. He was a rock climbing enthusiast and a geologist working on a Phd in astrophysics, not a crooner of swoon-worthy tunes. And they all knew that.
He shook his head and returned his wandering attention to the scanner’s screen but his eyes never made it that far. The sight of a blue crescent rising above the pitted landscape arrested him. Earth, his home, stole his breath. The sun kissed its mottled blue face and somewhere in his soul music swelled. Not a somebody-done-me-wrong song, but a tune of pure adoration for the work of the creator’s hands rose in his chest. His heart sang a love song for that precious world, his watery home.