The Moon Couple

THE MOON COUPLE1

They were the couple of the century, the Moon Couple, the two lovers who would dance endlessly under the light of the moon when clouds hovered up, watching them, covering and revealing again the twinkle of the stars in the sky, the many jewels scattered across the black ribbon of sky. A woman of dark hair, the colour of the Earth’s ceiling, rooftop, was long and entangled with vines of blue streaked highlights, a very light silvery blue that could almost match the colour of the moon. Her eyes were dark as well, hiding her secrets and never revealing, a language spoken by them that only he, her lover, could understand. He, too, had dark eyes the same as hers, but his hair was a neat mess of auburn roots that sprouted and always went with his watery green eyes, an almost hazel colour, that washed worries away with its warmth.2

The stars would guard body against body, their ninety-nine dances that they danced each full moon, almost as if making love, as each villager of their village slept peacefully. They were not named. Instead, being simply referred to as “Moon” for the man and “Star” for the woman. Nobody knew where he and she went during the day, because as soon as they finished their ninety-ninth dances as the sun started peaking up, they would dance away as they faded with the clouds. The couple wouldn’t be seen again until the next full moon.3

Now, scientist Gregory Smith, an aging man who once had his fair share of love, did not believe the Moon Couple really existed. He had white hair painted with age on his head and a bearded chin that he stroked whenever he did experiment thinking. He had stayed up all night to watch Moon and Star dance beautifully and without mistakes each night of any full moon, and written down any changes he saw to them. Yet the only change was clothing. Sometimes Star would wear a gown, sometimes a short dress, maybe just a bra and skirt. You could see her ponytail if she tied it up, or the hair loose and flowing through the night sky as she was twirled by Moon, who was equally as varied in clothing. Gregory was lonesome. He had no friends, didn’t want any and believed that this magical couple were just hallucinations, or if not, phantoms of the mind. Perhaps a memory of each villager’s young selves, their mischief. What they got up to was entirely their own business.4

On yet another observation one late night, Smith had only just written down yet another change of the woman’s clothing. Of course, without a telescope to look through, the couple only looked a silhouette or a figure, but using his advanced self-built one, he could see that this night Star was wearing only a flimsy piece of fabric against her breast and private, displaying bare leg and stomach that Moon felt free to touch. He wore nothing on top, but yet only a pair of jeans. 5

Casual and very free clothing, Gregory wrote, perhaps what we would call here on Earth, a break or a holiday from their usual evening dressing.6

A knock on his door sent the pen flying out his hand, on which the hand went straight for the doorknob as he left his seat. Wondering who would be up so late in night, he twisted the knob and pulled the door towards him. On his doorstep, an old woman with flowers in her hand looked up at him. He glanced at her, looked above to the full moon and noticed that Star had disappeared.7

He looked back at the old woman, who was now raising the flowers up to him. “A pound,” she whimpered. “Just a pound for your wife on Valentine’s tomorrow. Before she wakes up. Please, sir.”8

As grand as he was, Gregory scoffed at the beggar and looked back at his house. Turning back to tell her to leave, an illusion escaped his eye. The old woman seemed to look like the missing figure from the moon, and behind her there was Moon. The man! Quickly, Smith darted towards the sky again, noticing that the Moon Couple was no longer there. Just an empty, lonely moon shined down.9

“What the –” he stammered. 10

But on his doorstep again, all he saw was the woman and now another old man – likely to be her husband – offering the rose.11

Sighing, he took out two pound coins, put one each into the beggars’ folding clothes as he snatched the flower and slammed the door.12

He was just tired and needed rest that was all. That was what he thought. Just rest. One last peek through the telescope, and dancing they were, that same old Moon Couple. This time in their entwined hands was a rose, happy once again and dancing till the break of dawn. A tear escaped. He missed his wife; the whole village knew that the death of his wife was what caused his stern self. But inside, the rose had softened the protective shell he had created around his heart, and stopping himself, he left the notebook of changes blank on the new page of today’s date. 13

“Leave them be,” he told himself. “Just like they did with Margaret. Margaret and me, dancing just like them…”14

He ebbed to his room and tucked himself into bed and closed his eyes.15

His last memory was the Moon Couple, but this time not Moon and Star, but Gregory and Margaret. They used to be the couple of the century, but her death stopped it all.16

And now it was the aching in his heart that would be stopped with his death as he took one last breath, and joined his wife in the stars. 17

THE END.18