The Ballad of Ray Hammond

Welcome, Sir or Madam, lend me your ear
and I shall share a story of which I am fond.
It is about a strange and kind young man
who goes by the name of Ray Hammond.

  Ray Hammond was what an average human would regard as an average human. He was thin, but not too thin. He was tall, but not too tall. His face was handsome, but not too handsome. His hair was cut short, but not too short. Still, even with these more or less average features, the average human – assuming this human did not know the man – would still admit there was something captivating about Ray Hammond that could not be defined with words; something about him that could not be seen with the average human eye. Of course, those that knew him well were well aware that Ray was blessed with almost dangerous amounts of empathy and kindness. His wide smile radiated warmth that could make the polar ice melt even faster than it already did, and his childish and innocent blue eyes would most likely even disarm the nuclear warheads heading for Russian mainland at that very moment. Naturally, even without Ray’s influence, the polar ice still melted and the nuclear warheads still hit dead on target.

The dawn of the first bomb, a sad day for man
but surely the reason overweighed the cost?
Man never turned to see he had been wrong
just as he never turned to see the lives lost.

One man never grasped the concept of war
he would simply cry at such dismay.
Perhaps anything but greeting and smiling
was too much for poor little Ray.

  When the bombs fell, the change the humans had both dreaded and – ironically enough – caused themselves, had finally come, and not even a single inch of the planet was left unaffected. Where once great reaches of forests or rivers stretched seemingly endless into the horizon, now only remained charred trunks and burning holes.  Smoke and ashes rose to darken the sky as if to remind the destructive race of the scars on their home that would never heal.

  Ray had grown, and was now able to fully discern that which tormented the planet. Though he was still as kind and still as concerned for the wellbeing of everyone but himself, the rapidly decaying planet had him worried. But Ray was not in charge. Ray could not order the damage to stop. Ray could simply do as any average person would do: stand on the side and watch. However, everything has an end, and even the attacks eventually died out but, sadly, it was much too late.

Dark ages came and dark ages went
the sky blacker than any could care to remember.
Then an important decision swept across the world
one fateful day in late September.

  While Ray was busy being kind, a project carried out by the United States government was finally revealed to the world: a spacecraft of monstrous size with supposedly enough room for those who remained of Earth’s population. It seemed an impossible concept, but necessity had caused the humans to realize they had two options left: to ally and work on a solution together, or slowly fade away with the planet. Not surprisingly, they chose the former option.

  Ray and every single human being left their homes to travel to where the spacecraft was waiting to carry them to the stars and a potential new home. Upon arriving, he could only gasp at the spectacular construction that stood before him. Never in his wildest dreams had he seen anything even remotely close. Some of those who surrounded him were struck with doubt or fear when they saw the craft, and Ray did what he could to calm their nerves, promising it would all be over soon. Still, behind that reassuring grin, Ray looked at the metal monster with eyes of worry.

  It took days for everyone to enter the ship, even with the size of its many entrances. People had to be registered, gathered and given numbers as new identities. Ray Hammond was no longer Ray Hammond. He was now 19807882. Ray noticed that he was almost at the very back of the line, always gladly letting people take his spot. Only one woman was fine with being in the back, a Rose Lieberman, 893728, 92 years old, mother of three, grandmother of six. She had weak legs, occasional bladder problems, and had gone through three heart surgeries in just four months. Ray had spent much time talking with Rose, and had many times offered her his spot in the line, to which she refused with a smile. She would also say that there was no rush. They would both get on the ship and they would both survive to see another day.

  A rather unfortunate, unforeseen problem arose when Ray and Rose had finally reached the entrance shortly after the dawn of the third day. Ray announced his number loud, but not too loud, and took place just behind a large, yellow line barely inside the entrance. An endless row of heads filled the corridors leading into the ship’s core; so many it would be impossible to get past them. When Rose slowly crept towards Ray, the crew member in charge of registering asked her to wait. He was standing right besides Ray, just behind the yellow line. If the line indicated where the door would close, there would be no room for the woman at all.

  “Please wait, ma’am. I’ll ask which of the other entrances that can fit you in,” he said and mumbled something into his headset. He continued to mumble for some time, but was only receiving static mush that seemed only to grant disappointment rather than any answers. The noise died out and the man turned once again to face Rose, but he could not muster the courage to look her in the eye as he spoke the words he never wanted to speak.

  “I’m sorry, I... there’s no room left. All the other- the other entrances are packed, there’s... there’s no room.”

  The chatter nearby silenced as some became aware what was going on. Someone was left out. An old woman was left out. Would someone take her place? She was a frail old woman after all, wouldn’t it be better if she was left behind? Many thought the same things, but no one wished to speak or act. No one except one.

  “She can have my place,” Ray announced without a doubt in his voice. He felt the stares of a hundred eyes in his back. Some thought him amazing. Some thought him stupid. Still no one spoke. Ray took a step out the craft and gestured for her to enter. There was a complete silence. She looked at him. He looked at her. Then her eyes dropped to the ground as she started walking. Wordlessly she passed him. Just as wordlessly she stopped behind the line and waited for what came next. For his own safety, Ray was simply told to leave. Solid, thick metal doors closed the entrance, and Ray was left to himself.

  An hour later, Ray found himself on a distant hill and watched with a smile as the craft’s rockets flared into life. The ground thundered and the trees shook violently. Then the glorious ship slowly ascended to the skies, making Ray the only one of his race left on Earth. Even so, he kept to his beliefs as he waved humanity goodbye.

No human left to kill or cut or burn
Earth had finally obtained peace.
But Ray still walked among the haunted ruins
searching Earth for the missing piece.

He found the piece within himself
a realization come too late.
He knew he should have prioritized himself
before he was left to fate.

This concludes the tale of a man
who always believed in the human bond.
And as I look now to the setting sun
I wonder if they still remember Ray Hammond.