A Story By: Benjamin Groff© Groff Media 2024© Truth Endures

Barry Figg, renowned for his practicality and unconventional approach, was on the brink of an interstellar journey. His mind was ignited with possibilities as he readied his trusty 1968 Ford pickup truck. He had hauled many things in his lifetime, from trailers to farm equipment, but a Boeing Starliner? This was uncharted territory. The fact that no one else had dared to use a pickup truck for such a task only fueled Barry’s determination, a determination that was unwavering in the face of skepticism.

“Beau, you ready for a road trip? Or should I say space trip?”

Beau cocked his head, giving his usual “I’m not sure about this” Look. But he followed Barry, hopping into the passenger seat as Barry checked his supplies. Duct tape, check. Extra gas cans, check. A spare tire, in case outer space, had potholes—check. He’d even brought along an old CB radio, thinking it might work in zero gravity, though he had no clue how radio waves worked in space. Barry didn’t care; he figured he’d wing it like most things.

Once NASA learned of Barry’s mission, skepticism was immediate. Experts in aerodynamics and astrophysics laughed but turned to dead silence when Barry’s truck, rigged to a makeshift launch system, somehow lifted off without a hitch.

“Well, that wasn’t so bad,” Barry muttered as he and Beau cruised past the stratosphere.

“This ol’ girl’s still got it.”

Barry marveled at the view as the Ford ascended through the layers of atmosphere. Earth, a glowing blue marble beneath him, seemed serene. And there, floating ahead, was the broken-down Boeing Starliner its silver hull gleaming in the sunlight. Inside the Starliner, astronauts Mike and Sarah, who had been stranded for days, stared in disbelief as the pickup truck came into view, their shock and awe palpable even from a distance.

“You seeing what I’m seeing?” Mike asked over the radio.
“Is that a pickup truck?” Sarah’s voice crackled over the radio, disbelief evident in her tone. “Did NASA send a guy in a truck?”

As Barry carefully maneuvered the truck closer to the shuttle, he saw their faces peering through the small windows, wide-eyed and in shock.

“Do you need a lift?”

Barry asked through the CB, unaware it was probably not connected to any NASA frequency. Luckily, the two astronauts got tuned in to a general frequency, and Mike responded,

“Uh… yes. Yes, we do.”

Barry pulled alongside the shuttle and threw his hook—a custom-made towing rig he’d welded together using old chains and farm parts—around the back of the spacecraft. The starliner got securely latched to his truck with a few hard pulls.

“Hold tight, fellas. We’re goin’ home,”

Barry said, grinning from ear to ear as Beau barked in approval.

Barry set his course for Earth with the astronauts safely aboard and the spacecraftin tow. The news of this unprecedented rescue spread like wildfire, catching the attention of NASA, SpaceX, and Boeing engineers. Always hungry for a good story, the media began reporting on the ‘Miracle Towman’ who was bringing the astronauts home.

The shuttle’s re-entry into Earth’s atmosphere was tense. The heat shields were supposed to disintegrate, but they managed to hold with Barry’s truck pulling it at just the right angle and speed. Barry Figg was a hero when the Ford’s tires hit the ground, rolling onto the Kennedy Space Center runway.

The crowd went wild. Reporters rushed to the scene, cameras flashing, as Barry and Beau stepped out of the truck. The two astronauts emerged next, dazed but alive.

The media was abuzz with the story of the ‘Miracle Towman,’ who had defied all odds to bring the astronauts home, and the story was soon making headlines around the world.

“Barry, how did you do it?”

A reporter asked, thrusting a microphone in his face.

Barry scratched his head, looked down at Beau, and then back at the reporter.

“I dunno. I just did what I always do—haul stuff. It didn’t matter if it was a broken tractor or a spacecraft. You hook it up, pull it, and ensure it doesn’t fall apart.”

NASA and Boeing executives stood in the crowd, their faces a mixture of awe and disbelief. Melon Lusk tweeted,

“Sometimes the simplest solution is the most unexpected. Well done, Barry.”

Barry couldn’t believe the attention. He had never asked for fame but was a national sensation here. As the praise rolled in, he felt a mix of pride and humility. He thought,

“Maybe space haulin’ ain’t so bad after all.”

But deep down, he knew that he was just a small-town hauler who had done what he thought was right.
Later that evening, after all the interviews and handshakes, Barry climbed back into his pickup with Beau and started the engine. As he pulled out of the space center parking lot, he turned to his loyal dog.

“Well, Beau, we’re not just small-town haulers anymore, are we?”

Beau barked once, agreeing they now head for more than just earthbound odd jobs. The Beau began to speak human, saying

“You are one lucky son-of-a-bitch, Barry!”

Then, he began barking using his dog voice—Wolf, Wolf, Wolf, Wolf, Wolf. This caused Barry to wake up from the most incredible dream he had ever experienced!

When Barry woke up, he realized he had to go to work at the job he had been doing for the last 18 years, 11 months, 14 days, and 16 hours: folding boxes at a candy-making company. ––– The End.