got to tell you something."
"Let your body do the talking, honey."
"No, really. I’ve never—"
He paused in his serpentine writhing, and in the scant light his eyes flashed above her face. "First time, huh? That’s fine, baby. Just relax. First time for everything."
And a first time for losing the moon. How could she ever explain it to her mom? How could she pick up the telephone when the Mother Maker called? What sort of apology could she make to the rest of the Makers, who had made their sacrifices and done their chores, who had kept the world right on schedule while she was off indulging in a selfish whim?
Jeremy must have sensed her hesitancy, because he pressed his advantage, somehow managing to kiss her at the same time his arms were everywhere. She felt as if a large hole was opening underneath her, as if she were sinking into the Earth and would be forever cut off from the moon she had betrayed. Still, she clung to the piece of sky she could see, mentally hanging on as if it were a rope dangling down a well.
"I love you," Jeremy said, and she released the rope, and she fell, and the blackness swallowed her, and she saw what a night would be like without light, saw the moon eaten by the Night Shifters like so much marshmallow pie. This was a night that had no dawn, and her failure would disrupt the stars and tides and the dreams of sleeping children. She had lost that white and glowing part of herself. A suffocating fear swept over her, and she knew she could never give away that part where her soul and the moon connected.
Kate yelled at the sky, wanting to stop the crazed and aimless arc of the moon she had abandoned.
She pushed and clawed and screamed and wriggled, and the next thing she knew she was sitting up, drawing her shirt closed over her chest.
Jeremy was some distance away, wiping at his face. His shirt askew, his hair mussed, and hunched in the darkness, he seemed smaller and less physically imposing. "Hey, you bloodied my nose," he said, in an adolescent whine.
"I’m sorry," she said, and she really meant it, because she had desired nothing more than to give herself to him. Except the moon needed that secret place inside her that Jeremy demanded. She was a slave to two masters, and both were selfish.
Or maybe she was the selfish one.
"What the hell was that all about?" Jeremy asked from the shadows.
"The moon," she said.
"Huh?"
"A stupid, bleak chunk of rock."
"Have you gone nuts?"
"It’s me. Or maybe not me, only a reflection."
Jeremy wiped his nose again and slipped his arms into his shirt sleeves. "If you didn’t want to do it, why didn’t you just say so? You didn’t have to be a tease."
"Oh, I wanted to do it, more than anything in the world."
Jeremy sulked past her, stabbing a cigarette in his mouth. "Maybe you didn’t screw up my whole night. Brandi’s probably at the coffee shop."
Kate wanted to shout at him, beg him for one last kiss, a fleeting thing to hold in her memory. But he had already turned the corner.
Kate looked up at the slim wedge of moon, her Sisyphus stone. As she looked at that distant face, the one the normal people called "The Man in the Moon," she thought she glimpsed herself. The moon’s light was nothing but a reflection, all of its power and magic only an illusion for poets and lovers. A trick of timing and position.
In every mirror, you give half of yourself away .
But she still had the other half. She was a Maker.
Kate adjusted her clothing and headed for the bright and noisy streets.
###
WAMPUS CAT
Susan should have known better than to head south with a man, especially to the place her grandmother called "the land of legends."
This was the dark heart of the Alleghenies and dusk was pumpkin-colored and the mountains stood like giant petrified beasts against the mist. Trees mingled, black sticks intersecting. The fallen leaves were as sodden as a fraternity carpet. October's rot filled the air.
And Barry was lost. Barry,
"Let your body do the talking, honey."
"No, really. I’ve never—"
He paused in his serpentine writhing, and in the scant light his eyes flashed above her face. "First time, huh? That’s fine, baby. Just relax. First time for everything."
And a first time for losing the moon. How could she ever explain it to her mom? How could she pick up the telephone when the Mother Maker called? What sort of apology could she make to the rest of the Makers, who had made their sacrifices and done their chores, who had kept the world right on schedule while she was off indulging in a selfish whim?
Jeremy must have sensed her hesitancy, because he pressed his advantage, somehow managing to kiss her at the same time his arms were everywhere. She felt as if a large hole was opening underneath her, as if she were sinking into the Earth and would be forever cut off from the moon she had betrayed. Still, she clung to the piece of sky she could see, mentally hanging on as if it were a rope dangling down a well.
"I love you," Jeremy said, and she released the rope, and she fell, and the blackness swallowed her, and she saw what a night would be like without light, saw the moon eaten by the Night Shifters like so much marshmallow pie. This was a night that had no dawn, and her failure would disrupt the stars and tides and the dreams of sleeping children. She had lost that white and glowing part of herself. A suffocating fear swept over her, and she knew she could never give away that part where her soul and the moon connected.
Kate yelled at the sky, wanting to stop the crazed and aimless arc of the moon she had abandoned.
She pushed and clawed and screamed and wriggled, and the next thing she knew she was sitting up, drawing her shirt closed over her chest.
Jeremy was some distance away, wiping at his face. His shirt askew, his hair mussed, and hunched in the darkness, he seemed smaller and less physically imposing. "Hey, you bloodied my nose," he said, in an adolescent whine.
"I’m sorry," she said, and she really meant it, because she had desired nothing more than to give herself to him. Except the moon needed that secret place inside her that Jeremy demanded. She was a slave to two masters, and both were selfish.
Or maybe she was the selfish one.
"What the hell was that all about?" Jeremy asked from the shadows.
"The moon," she said.
"Huh?"
"A stupid, bleak chunk of rock."
"Have you gone nuts?"
"It’s me. Or maybe not me, only a reflection."
Jeremy wiped his nose again and slipped his arms into his shirt sleeves. "If you didn’t want to do it, why didn’t you just say so? You didn’t have to be a tease."
"Oh, I wanted to do it, more than anything in the world."
Jeremy sulked past her, stabbing a cigarette in his mouth. "Maybe you didn’t screw up my whole night. Brandi’s probably at the coffee shop."
Kate wanted to shout at him, beg him for one last kiss, a fleeting thing to hold in her memory. But he had already turned the corner.
Kate looked up at the slim wedge of moon, her Sisyphus stone. As she looked at that distant face, the one the normal people called "The Man in the Moon," she thought she glimpsed herself. The moon’s light was nothing but a reflection, all of its power and magic only an illusion for poets and lovers. A trick of timing and position.
In every mirror, you give half of yourself away .
But she still had the other half. She was a Maker.
Kate adjusted her clothing and headed for the bright and noisy streets.
###
WAMPUS CAT
Susan should have known better than to head south with a man, especially to the place her grandmother called "the land of legends."
This was the dark heart of the Alleghenies and dusk was pumpkin-colored and the mountains stood like giant petrified beasts against the mist. Trees mingled, black sticks intersecting. The fallen leaves were as sodden as a fraternity carpet. October's rot filled the air.
And Barry was lost. Barry,
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