"You don't need it. It will be ok. You can make a Intergalactic trip without it."
Dad's hands were clammy with sweat as they hovered over the navigation controls. His will was slipping away from him like a new balloon in an open sky.
"Hey Dad! Can we stop at Junc-ee's? I need some Junc-ee's nuggets," Brother pleaded.
"Yeah Dad, I need something gummy!" Sister chimed in.
Sweat was now forming on Dad's brow. He closed his eyes tight and forced his hands into his lap. His inner voice continued chanting, "You don't need it. It will be ok. Just make it to Proxima Centauri and it will be too far to turn around." His eyebrows raised optimistically but his eyes stayed closed in concentration.
"Honey! We won't spend that much money and I could really use some fudge." Mother leaned near and whispered slowly, hot breath in his ear, "And I know you like that chopped brisket sandwich."
Dad's eyes popped open and his hands flew across the console before him.
Course laid in.
Everyone cheered as they saw the new destination. A collective "Yay!"
Junc-ee's it is. Dad's tight posture relaxed. "Chopped brisket sandwich, it will be ok."
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