By Greg Ballinger

“You’re asking me to go to the Moon, to get my daughter’s school uniform?”

“Mrs Hooper, allow me to elaborate, our school is a Moon Academy School,” the monotone voice bleated down the line. “As Earth becomes less desirable, our aim is to give our students the tools they need to reach for the stars.”

“But the actual school is on Earth,” Mrs Hooper put forward.

“Correct.”

“If the school is on Earth, why on earth is the school uniform shop on the Moon?” Mrs Hooper asked desperately, rubbing the bridge of her nose. 

“I understand your frustration.”

“Do you deliver?”

“We do,” the voice told her. “But the delivery charge is five hundred Moon credits and that doesn’t include the handling fee.” Mrs Hooper sighed audibly and the monotone voice continued, “It would be far more economical for you to go to the Moon in person and pick the uniform up yourself.” An electric silence followed as the gravity of the situation sunk in. “Are you still there?” the voice demanded.

“Yes,” Mrs Hooper huffed.

“Is there anything else I can help you with today?”

“No,” Mrs Hooper said simply, hanging up. “Celeste!”

“What?” came a shout from within the house.

“We’re going to the Moon.”

“To get Moon muffins?” Celeste probed optimistically, entering the room.

“No Celeste,” her mother told her. “Get in the rocket, I’ll explain on the way.”

“I hate the Moon!” Celeste moaned, stomping off.

“Me too,” Mrs Hooper agreed, under her breath.

In no time they’d joined the queue of rockets waiting to join the Super-Highway to take them to the Moon. “It’s always the same,” Mrs Hooper complained, rapping her fingers on the control panel. “Always chock-a-block, no matter what time you come.”

“Can we please get Moon muffins, mum?” 

“We’re getting your uniform, then it’s straight back down to Earth,” her mother explained. “Quiet, we’re at the front.”

“Hello madam. How are we today?”

“Very well, thank you,” Mrs Hooper replied, forcing politeness.

“Lovely weather today on Earth.”

“Indeed.”

“At least on the Moon you know what weather you’ll be getting, there isn’t any,” the attendant chuckled to himself.

“Shall we press on,” Mrs Hooper cut in.

“Pretty keen to get moving,” the attendant smiled, leaning in. “What’s your business going to the Moon today?”

“I need a new school uniform.”

“From the Moon?” the attendant let out a low whistle. “That’s a long way to go.”

“It is, isn’t it,” Mrs Hooper answered irritably. 

“School starts next week.”

“I’m aware of that,” Mrs Hooper replied sharply, looking straight ahead. 

“Won’t be a jiffy,” the attendant smiled, orbiting the rocket and scanning the license plate. “I’m sorry madam, you don’t have any Moon insurance.”

“Jumping Jupiter! It must’ve expired.”

“You could always come back another day,” the attendant waxed on. “Or you could take advantage of our very own Moon insurance, on special offer, only for today.”

Mrs Hooper nodded, holding up her bankcard. 

The attendant scanned the card and handed it back. “All done madam, and by signing up for Moon insurance today, you’ve automatically qualified for our premium advertising selection, which means…”

“I get it,” Mrs Hooper interrupted, pushing the throttle forward and pulling out onto the Super-Highway.

“Have a safe trip,” the attendant called out. “See you again real soon. Next please.”

Within no time, their rocket reached its optimum speed on the Super-Highway and Mrs Hooper switched to cruise control, joining all the other rockets in a line. Celeste sat in a surly mood while Mrs Hooper stared at the stars, relaxing and listening to classical music. 

Suddenly the music cut out and a nonstop advert blared out at a frenetic pace, “…try our delicious Moon marshmallows, on special offer, only for today and while you’re here why not treat yourself to a piece of Moon rock jewellery, on special offer, only for today….”

“Make it stop,” Celeste grumbled as Mrs Hooper hopelessly fiddled with the controls, but even adjusting the volume or turning it off didn’t stop the endless adverts from firing out at them. To phase it out, they stuck their fingers in their ears, staring ahead towards the neon scar of the Moon mall, steadily getting closer. 

Upon arrival, the mall doors opened and the adverts gravitated towards them, now in human form. 

“Madam, our new Moon Fragrance is out of this world, on special offer, only for today!”

 “Madam, our Moonwalk prices eclipse all others, on special offer, only for today!”

“Look buddy.” Mrs Hooper grabbed a salesman. “Point me in the direction of the school shop.”

The salesman pointed to the dark side of the mall. “Perhaps you need a Moon coffee? On special offer only for today!”

When they reached the school shop, the atmosphere was surprisingly serene.

“I need a uniform,” Mrs Hooper announced, closing the door. “For my daughter.”

“I see,” the shop assistant answered, flatly.

“Let me guess,” Mrs Hooper smiled crazily. “It’s on special offer, only for today.”

“No,” the assistant replied, coldly. “It’s not. She’ll need to be fitted. Come.”

The lady led Celeste away to the fitting room while Mrs Hooper collapsed into a comfy chair. Exhausted and starting to wane, her eyes became very heavy. 

“Mrs Hooper!”

“Yes!” Mrs Hooper jumped up. “How’d we go?”

“A stellar fitting,” the assistant smiled. “That’ll be three-hundred Moon credits for the uniform.” The assistant looked up. “There was however, a small problem.” 

“Problem?” Mrs Hooper stopped. 

“We didn’t have your daughter’s size in the blazer,” the assistant stated. “You’ll have to come back next week.”

“That’s lunacy!” Mrs Hooper wailed. “I need that blazer right now!”

“Okay,” the assistant nodded with a sudden look of determination. “I’ll order an express rocket, but it won’t be cheap.” The assistant pressed the keys on the computer and turned the screen slowly, presenting the astronomical price while Mrs Hooper’s head started to spin like a galaxy. “Mrs Hooper?”

 “I’m fine,” Mrs Hooper wobbled. “I just need a little space.”

About the Author