dontravis.com
blog post #356
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| Sun-Moon Eclipse Courtesy of Pixabay.com |
Here’s
the rest of Mark’s short story. I don’t know about you, but I think it’s one of
his best. Let’s see how he ends the work. We take up right where we left off at
the end of installment one.
*****
THE
SUN AND THE MOON
Part
2
By
Mark Wildyr
The notebook slipped from my fingers as
the truth struck me. Jesus! “Sunshine!” Every morning he called me “Sunshine.”
Helios, the sun! He’d used sun in the Greek and Roman and Egyptian
personifications. Among all the other nationalities flowing in my veins, those
were the ones we had talked about most! And that “green Phoeban fire”…bright
green fire? I had green eyes. And I would singe his touch, shrivel his kiss,
turn his passion to ash!
Oh, my Lord! Mike loved me! Loved me in a
different way! I always missed the hell out of him when the Laniers went to
their cabin on the lake each summer, but his yearning went beyond what I’d
understood. Eros! He mentioned Eros. That was the god of Love. And Apollo, he
wasn’t only the Sun god, he was handsome and desirable. Mike always told me how
handsome I was, but he did it in such a way that I never suspected. “Gee,
Mitch, you look like a million bucks today” was one of his favorites.
Thus is Venus fated to orbit second in his
precious vortex.
Venus, the second planet from the sun. He
knew that someday I’d get married, and he’d be second forever in my life.
Venus? Wasn’t the she also the goddess of something? Love. He cast himself in
the female role.
Did I really know Mike Lanier so little?
Was he a total stranger to me? No! I knew him better than anyone in the world,
his family included. We shared secrets they’d never know. How could I have been
so dense?
I picked up the notebook and sat back in
my chair. How would I have reacted? Right at the moment, I’d give him anything
he wanted! Come back, Mike, and I’ll surrender it all. Give you everything!
That was easy to say, even easy to mean. He was in the grave. Back then
I’d probably have exploded and told him to grow up.
Moving in a trance, I collected my notes
and his book and left. Halfway down the library steps, I almost dropped
everything. I hadn’t considered the second part of the poem! Luna…the Moon. Had
there really been a male Luna in his life? I plopped my butt down in the grass
beneath a tree and opened to the poem again.
This sibling of Eros accepts my touch, my
kiss, my timid caress.…
Yes, there was a Moon in his sky. And they
got together. They... they made love.
Enriching
my aura with a molten, milk-white nimbus.
I fought with my stomach, amazed such a
fierce jealousy gripped me. Jealousy, not revulsion. “Oh, Mike! Why didn’t you
let me know?”
The answer was crystal clear and
unerringly on the mark. Because he knew me too well. He knew me better than I
knew him. Sadly, I went back to the poem.
Selene’s time is tender but fleeting. Then
again Hyperion’s son ascends…
Hyperion was a Titan and the father of
Helios and Selene and Eros. “... obscuring my silver-footed king whose taste is
oh so sweet, except… he is not my Roman Sol.”
Overcome by unidentifiable emotions, I
closed my eyes and wept silent tears, uncaring who observed them. I wished I’d
known he wanted something more; it would have been easy to accept his touch at
that moment. Maybe that would have banked the fire.
After the school year ended, I worked up
the nerve to ask Mike’s parents about the lakeside cabin where they usually
spent the hot season. Still broken up over the loss of their son, they weren’t
ready to return to the place where he’d spent his last decent summer, but they
generously offered me the use of the place. After thinking it over for a week,
I accepted. So instead of working as planned after my freshman year, I headed
to a mountain lake or “tarn,” as my poetic friend would have termed it, on a
sojourn for the truth.
Coming to the lake had been a mistake;
Mike was everywhere in the cabin. There were pictures of us in his room. His twenty-two-rifle
hung over the fireplace, his fishing rod and reel, his floppy hat, his very
spirit inhabited the place. I masturbated that first night with a photo of a
laughing, handsome Michael Lanier before me. What would it have been like with
him in person? Then I tossed until I finally slept, waking once in the night to
the eerie feeling of a presence in the room. Unafraid, I grinned lazily into
the inky darkness and went back to sleep.
I used the Lanier’s canoe to visit
everyone on the incredibly beautiful mountain lake. It was a smooth, blue-gray
mirror about a mile wide, set in a small valley crammed with towering mixed
conifers. I found a few handsome people, but none I could picture as the
“silver-footed king.” Gradually, I wormed my way into the heartbeat of the
small summer community to pursue my quest. I met a girl whose folks probably
saved me from starvation since I’m not much of a cook. Julie was fun and knew
all the summer folks. On the second Monday of my stay, I gnawed barbecue ribs
while perched beside her in their lawn swing.
“You’ve met everyone.” She was doubtless
exasperated I seemed more interested in others than in her. “Except Sam, of
course.”
“Sam?” My ears pricked up.
“Sam Pritchard. He lives here year-round
and takes care of the cabins over the winter. He always goes to visit his dad
for a week or so after most of the summer folks arrive. He’s everybody’s
handyman. Most of us can’t even turn on our own water pumps, much less repair
them. So when everyone’s settled in, he takes off.”
“Doesn’t sound like my guy.” I relaxed
muscles I hadn’t realized had gone taut.
“Your guy? You’re looking for someone in
particular?”
“Just someone who was friends with Mike.”
“Mike was friends with everyone. He was a
good guy Anyway, Sam just back to the lake.”
I smiled and changed the subject. It was
easy; we just talked about Julie.
Meeting this errant caretaker proved no
problem at all. The next morning, as I was trying to fry my third egg over easy
without turning the yolk into something like dried plaster, a knock drew me to
the front of the cabin. Who in the hell could that be?
I opened the door and stood face to face
with Mike’s Artemis.
*****
Mark
ends his story here, leaving us to wonder if Mitch and Sam discovered anything
between them. I’d say Mitch was primed, so who knows? A great story.
The advance buy link for
The Voxlightner Scandal follows: http://www.dsppublications.com/books/upcoming-releases-c
Now
my mantra: Keep on reading and keep on
writing. You have something to say, so say it!
My
personal links: (Note the change in the Email address because I’m still getting
remarks on the old dontravis21@gmail.com. PLEASE DON’T USE
THAT ONE.)
Facebook:
www.facebook.com/donald.travis.982
Twitter:
@dontravis3
Buy
links to Abaddon’s Locusts:
See
you next week.
Don
New Posts are
published at 6:00 a.m. each Thursday.
