Chapter 3 - 1969

The mechanical hum of the engine felt like an itchy blanket, providing comfort from the cold, empty silence he often experienced at home, but at the same time being mildly irritating. Also occupying Gru's ears was the sound of the other children chattering, a confusing cacophony of words that hit his ears in the form of white noise. The sound of social interaction was distressing to Gru. He envied their connection, their seemingly effortless ability to accept each other. How did they do it? What a mystery it was, the enigma of the conversion. Gru was closer to solving interplanetary travel than he was to solving that mystery. He tried not to think about it, and shuffled across his seat to get a better view of the street from his window.

The fog engulfed everything, obscuring Gru's view like a shapeless curtain. Droplets trickled down the surface of the glass pane, as if the bus was upset. Road signs revealed themselves as the shapeless curtain unraveled. The school bus dug through the fog like an oil rig in Texas, the headlights acting as the metaphorical drill. It was these lights that cut through the gray curtain, revealing hidden landmarks Gru was so familiar with. That familiar row of trees on the side of the avenue, arranged like a row of soldiers standing at attention. The Gifford's Ice Cream & Candy shop, with its display of various cones sealed behind a deceptively transparent glass pane. Then there was some fancy looking house with a crazy big front lawn, painted completely in white for whatever reason. Gru wasn't sure if he recognised it. Wasn't any Washington DC landmark he had ever seen before.

The bus stopped at a red light. A familiar playground invaded his peripheral vision, getting his attention. The playground was completely empty, with only the fog occupying the area. There were two swings attached to the same metal frame next to each other. One was broken, the seat hanging by a single chain on its side, and the other was not broken, the seat hanging from two chains, level to the ground. The monkey bars were steel, and coated in blue paint. Small chunks of the paint were chipped away, exposing the steel bars beneath, causing crusty patches of rust to form. Orangy-brown flakes of rusted metal hung from the edges of these rust patches, sticking out of the bars like mushrooms on a dead log. The fresh, pure, bright blue paint that once was was now corroded away by time, unloved and decaying. It had been like this for a while now. The playground was very badly maintained, but a familiar sight for Gru. He used to play in this playground when he was younger, back in elementary. He got a good look at it today, since the bus was still stuck behind the stupid red light.

Then, something caught his eye. A merry-go-round. A spinnable metal disc with horizontal handles. This playground item was surprisingly well kept, its coat of red paint still intact. Seeing this merry-go-round brought out a nauseating feeling from his digestive tracts. He felt his stomach acid boil, scolding his esophagus. Gru instantly turned his head back away from the window, and rested his head on the seat in front. There was a dizziness in his head, like he was a rookie astronaut on his first flight test. He wasn't going to vomit, not like last time. He couldn't handle the embarrassment. He took quick, sharp breaths in rapid succession. As he did this, that drowning feeling felt less and less potent. As his stomach felt better, his breaths got slower and slower, until soon he was back to his normal self. Relief. He lay his back into the seat, still recovering from the ordeal. His head felt lighter, and any negative thoughts had subsided. The red became amber, then the amber became green. The bus got moving again, leaving this playground behind, disappearing into the fog. Gru turned his head back towards the window, but then out of instinct turned his head back, a quick reactional reflex as if he was touching a hot frying pan.

Still wanting to occupy himself, Gru reached into his bag and took out a piece of newspaper he had picked up that morning. The chatter faded back to white noise. The headline read:

"The Washington Post: 'The Eagle Has Landed' - Two Men Walk on the Moon"

On the cover was an image of the "Apollo Lunar Module Eagle", the space shuttle Gru had witnessed land on the moon last night. As he read through the article, he forgot all about the playground, all about the other kids on the bus, all about his worries. He sat upright in his seat, leaning over so his eyes were closer to the newspaper. The noise of the engine no longer bugged him, neither did the chatter of the other kids. All his attention was drawn to this other world, a world he would much rather live in.

Suddenly, a child a few rows in front of him burst into laughter, the sound piercing his eardrums like a sharpened drumstick. He frantically searched for the source of laughter as if it was a vietcong battlecry, speculating about the cause. What did I do this time? They were all in it together, he thought, conspiring to hurt him as much as possible. As far as Gru was concerned, every child in the school was constantly plotting and scheming, all so they could laugh at his expense. Soon, the joke would be on them, he would be laughing to the bank by the time he became an astronaut. He would be looking down on them from the vacuum of space, documenting his adventures like Neil. A great spectacle broadcast on live TV, all to shove it in their stupid faces.

Soon enough, Gru saw a sign that said "Brookland Middle School'' with an arrow pointing to the right. As the bus entered the school grounds, Gru observed the rest of the school starting their day. Boys and girls of differing ages poured out of their big yellow sardine cans, like a school of bloodthirsty piranha fish descending on their prey. As the bus crawled to a halt, Gru made a mental note to himself, telling himself to avoid as much social interaction as possible, so as to protect himself from the imminent danger that was embarrassment. He couldn't get over the brick wall that was relating to others. Instead, whenever he had the bright idea of approaching someone, the sting of rejection pulled him back, the same way it did at home whenever he approached his mother, defending him, preventing him from feeling that pain again.

This, however, only made things worse, as now he was talking to no one. He had tried this tactic for a few months now, and while it proved successful, he felt more distant than ever from his classmates. Still, as far as Gru was concerned, closing himself off was the safest choice, so why change it up? Break times were for studying. Playing with the other kids wasn't productive anyway. They weren't like him, they didn't have the ambition, the dreams he had. They would be working for him someday, ignorant fools the lot of them! It was Gru against the world, always was, always will be.

Gru was last to get off the bus, making sure no one was in proximity to engage in conversation with as he walked from the bus to class. He kept his guard up and distanced himself from every other student, like a US paratrooper in Vietnam avoiding landmines. Finally, Gru made it to the school building. Walking down the school corridor was a nauseating experience, having to swim through a sea of big scary teenagers to get to his locker. In times like this Gru would dissociate, and transport his mind to a more comfortable place.

He reminisced about last night, when he watched Neil Armstrong plant the Stars and Stripes among the real life stars on the Moon. It was still difficult to comprehend that humanity had achieved such a feat. The impression this event left of Gru could not be understated, as he incisions himself doing the exact same thing, performing the same feat. This dream brought him hope and optimism in what seemed like a world that was out to get him. Finally, after awkwardly shoving through the crowd, he made it to his locker.

Gru opened up his locker, and on the other side of the door was a photo of Neil Armstrong. He taped this newspaper next to the photo of Neil, and stepped back to appreciate his handiwork.

"Woah, is that a signed photo of Niel Armstrong?" someone said.

Gru was startled, and quickly turned around to see who said this. Before him was a geeky looking young girl, with glasses, braces and curly ginger hair. At this moment, she was in awe of Gru's signed photo, eyes wide in amazement looking at his locker. The second he turned around Gru caught her gaze, and was taken back by what he saw. It wasn't just her appearance, but more importantly her facial expression that Gru was shocked by. As she turned her gaze to him, she kept that look of awe, intrigued by this boy she had never really noticed before. Everyone else always gave him nasty, disapproving looks wherever he went, this was a welcome surprise. Gru pulled himself together and responded to her question after 5 painfully long seconds:

"Yes it is."

Gru never spoke in sentences longer than 5 words, if at all. He answered the question, that was that. What else was there to say? A sharp string shot down his back, scared of what she might say next.

"That's really cool. Did you see the moon landing last night?"

Relief.

"Yes, it was very cool."

"Yeah."

Another 5 seconds of silence followed this exchange.

"So, what was your favorite part?" she said.

"I… I really liked when Neil put the flag on the moon. That was so cool."

Gru finally spoke a sentence longer than 5 words.

"Yeah, I really liked that part too. I think my favorite part was when they said 'The eagle has landed!'"

"Yeah me too."

Gru decided to think out loud, when he asked:

"So do you know anything about interplanetary travel? I think I'm getting close to solving it."

The girl immediately chuckled, giving Gru a sinking feeling in his stomach. Would she think he's a weird geek too? Gru tried not to scare himself.

"You think you can solve interplanetary travel? Are you a rocket scientist?" she asked. She seemed amused by Gru's seemingly ridiculous statement.

"No, not really. I make rockets out of macaroni for fun."

"Really? What do you use for rocket fuel?"

"I use a mixture of caster sugar, yeast and lighter fluid."

She laughed again, and although she was entertained by this answer, Gru was getting mixed signals and found it hard to read her.

"Why yeast?"

"Because it rises."

"That's silly! You should use baking powder. It burns faster."

"No it doesn't!"

"Try it next time. Trust me, I know lots about rocket science."

Gru was not expecting this response. He had to formulate a clever retort to reclaim his spot as rocket scientist supreme! He recalled all his spaceman knowledge and came back with a defiant:

"Ok."

3 seconds of silence passed, before the girl said:

"Can I see this macaroni rocket? There's no way it can actually fly."

"It flies, but I didn't bring it with me. I left it at home."

"Can I come over to yours after school? I have to see this."

Gru was definitely not expecting this response.

"Uhhhhhh… Ok."

"I bet it's just a model. No way you can make macaroni fly."

"Yes I can! I can make anything fly! I'm going to be the greatest astronaut ever, and walk on the moon!"

"So do I! I'm going to be the first woman on the moon!"

Gru laughed an ugly, throaty laugh.

"Woman? On the moon?" He said between laughs. "There are no girls in space."

"There will be when I'm in space!" she said triumphantly.

Gru saw her conviction as she said this, and was inspired. He felt like he was looking into a mirror, and thought back to last night, when he was in his spaceman costume watching the moon landing. He felt her struggle, her desire to live up to her dreams. For once, Gru related to another person, on a deeper level than he thought was possible.

"That's so cool." he said with a genuine tone.

"Yeah." she said quietly.

Gru tried to take in what had just happened. He was ecstatic. He had never felt like this before. He could finally talk to someone about astronauts and space without being put down. This short exchange meant a lot to him, he did not want it to end just yet.

"So you going to class?" he asked shyly.

"Yes, I have chemistry first thing today." she replied.

"Can I come with you? I also have chemistry now." he quietly whimpered out.

"Sure." she said casually. She paused for a second, trying to remember what she was about to say.

"Oh yeah. My name is Valerie, just call me Val. Nice to meet you!"

She gestured to shake his hand. Gru took a second to process this action, then said:

"Felonious, just call me Gru." while shaking her hand. Her touch was warm, and his head felt light, clear, like he could finally breathe again. All the paranoia Gru had felt that morning vanished. Already she was a comforting presence, someone he felt safe to be himself with. The two of them locked eyes again, smiling innocently.

They continued to walk down the school corridor, making their way to chemistry. Their natural chemistry was unexpected, but welcome to Gru. She was unreal, too good to be true, contradicting his scathing worldview. Someone who didn't look down on him like everyone else, but actually had interest in him, and his interests. For once, Gru was looking forward to his next lesson.