Berry Boy and the Moon

“You don’t even glow,” I told the moon. “You’re a liar. You just reflect.”

The moon glared at me.

“I glow.”

“You’re illuminated but you don’t glow. You need your own light to glow.”

“If I cast light, I glow. I glow,” he repeated. “I glow.”

“We can have this conversation all night but when it comes down to it, you’re
nothing but a substitute for the sun while he’s busy.”

“You can’t look at the sun,” he said. “And I glow but I don’t burn.”

“You couldn’t burn if you tried.”

“I wouldn’t ever want to burn.”

“But you can’t, and that’s what matters.”

The moon glared at me, and for a moment I thought he really was glowing, but he was nothing but a liar and a fake and he was just reflecting someone else’s (much brighter) glow. He was big and fat and full of holes, and he hung around the stars pretending to be big. A star could fit a thousand moons, and stars glow, and the moon can only orbit around without anything to do. That’s what I told him.

“I have plenty to do,” he told me.

I waited in the field while the big fat round moon settled back down to the
horizon and the sun burst into the scene with a violently orange rise. I cheered, and I waited for him to come into full view; I couldn’t look directly at him, but I smiled and let the warm rays rinse the night off my face.

I spent the day telling the sun about the moon, because they’d never really met. He didn’t have much to say to me, because he’s very busy, but he did keep me warm and lit my way around the field while I picked berries. I ate berries all day until there were no more berries left in the field, and I tossed the very last one to the sun, because he was gracious enough to help me find them. He didn’t take it, though, and it fell back to the earth.

There was a brilliant display of purple as the sun went down, then a couple stars twinkled awake but the moon did not come out. I waited for a little while, but the moon was not there. I called out, but there was no reply.

After an hour of darkness without any illumination at all, I became concerned. I heard some rustling around the field, but I couldn’t see who was there.

“Moon?” I called out.

“Is that a berry?” came a voice from somewhere in the grass.

“No,” I replied, “I’m a boy. Who are you, and what have you done with the moon?”

“The moon is new tonight, and he is very shy when he’s being reborn. Are you sure you are not a berry? You smell very much like a berry.”

“I assure you,” I told him, “I am not a berry. I cannot see you.”

“If you were a bear, you would be able to smell me.”

“I am not a bear, I am a boy, and I would very much like the moon to come out because I cannot see you. Are you a bear?”

“I think you are a berry that doesn’t want to be eaten.”

“I can give you a berry, I offered one to the sun, but he didn’t want it and he gave it back. I could find it if the moon was here. Moon! Moon!”

The moon did not reply, and the rustling in the grass drew closer until I felt
jaws snap around my arm. They went through me and took off my limb.

“You are not a berry!” came a very shocked reply, and heavy feet in a quick run sounded against the grass.

“I told you!” I shouted back in pain. “That’s what I was trying to tell you!”

I felt around for my arm, but it took me twice as long because I only had one hand.
“I take it back, moon!” I shouted. “I take it back, you glow! Now help me find my arm!”

The mood did not come back and I bled to death in the field.

The berry grew into a bush.