The New Moon

By Aeryn Sykes




A full moon rose high above the city, the large celestial body looking small, dwarfed by the high-rise buildings. The stars twinkled, wondering if perhaps they could outshine the solar mirror at its zenith. A cool wind danced gently around the city, taking empty bags as its partners. The streets were calm, the sidewalks no longer crowded; the herd of humans retired to their individual dens, afraid to be out alone. A brown rabbit hopped busily along through the city park. It stopped, looking across the street as a man shut and locked the door to "The Rare Hare." The man looked up at the "Man in the Moon."

"You're just up there, every night, floating around, and everyone loves you. What I wouldn't give to trade you places." The man sighed, ran his fingers through his short black hair, tugged his dark trench coat around his neck, and moved on.

The rabbit looked up at the moon, but seeing nothing of importance except the light, he hopped along. Seconds later another rabbit appeared. He too looked up at the tiny moon. And the moon? Well, the moon smiled back.

#

Ian Mathison sat in his windowless office chewing on his pen. Business was a little slower than usual, but his last heist had been worth a lot to his client. At least the store seemed to be doing well.

The knock on his office door startled him from his thoughts. "Yeah?"

"Ian, someone needs to talk to you out here." The young woman's voice called through the door.

Ian put down his pen, and donned the smock that was hanging on the coat rack. To most people, "The Rare Hare" was just an antique store. The room that was his office had been used for storage. The general customers thought that he was doing inventory, running numbers, or determining prices for the items that he would sell. And they were right, to an extent. Some of his time was spent in running "The Rare Hare," but much more was spent on his real business.

He opened the door and stepped out into the antique store, and approached the counter, where Cynthia was talking to a customer. Her looks were striking every time he saw her. Curly auburn hair lay perfectly on her shoulders. Her gray Mathison eyes changed color when she smiled. She reminded Ian of his sister.

"Oh, good, Ian." She smiled. "This man has an item I thought you'd be interested in."

"I know it's not in the best condition," the older man said, "but it's been passed down through a couple generations. I think it's worth something."

Ian looked at the small statue. It was plated in brass, and had tarnished over the years. "What do you think, Cyn?"

"Well, it's the Hindu god Shiva, right?"

Ian nodded.

"You're much better at appraising antiques than I am." She stammered. The bell on the door rang, and another customer walked in. "Excuse me", Cynthia whispered to the man with the statue. "May I help you, ma'am?"

Sighing, Ian reached into his pocket for his glasses. He hated wearing them, and usually didn't, unless he was looking at small print, or doing appraising. Ian picked the statue up from the counter and looked at it very closely. "I'll give you $100 for it." He sat the little image of Shiva back down.

"But it's worth a lot more than that, surely!" The old man said.

"Maybe once, but it's tarnished so badly it's hard to make out any of the detail."

"How much would it be without the tarnish?"

"Well, that would depend." Ian sighed. He hated it when customers argued with him. If they knew so much about the antique then why bring it to him for appraisal. "If you want to keep it, clean the tarnish off yourself, bring it back, and we'll talk. I'll charge you five bucks for the appraisal today. If you want to sell it, my offer stands. Your decision, sir."

"Okay," the man said, defeated. Ian open the cash register and handed him five twenties.

"Have a nice day, sir." Ian said as the man counted the money and walked to the door.

Cynthia returned to the counter with a book. Her customer had stopped to look at some little antiques along the way.

"You really should learn to appraise, Cyn. This store has been in the family for as long as I can remember."

"And I'll inherit the store from you, just like you inherited it from your grandfather, blah, blah, blah. You've told me that a thousand times, cousin."

"Good, we understand each other. I'll be in... the back, should anyone need me."

"I just hope I don't have inherit your other business." Cynthia said under her breath.

Ian smiled, and leaned close to her, whispering in her ear. "You're too pretty to be a thief." He picked up the statue of Shiva and headed back to his windowless office.

#

"Ian, I'm locking up." Cynthia's voice called from the main store.

Ian was still working on removing the tarnish from the Shiva statue. He heard the bell clanking on the door as she left. He put the little god down, setting it on the cloth he was using to help bring the little statue back to life. He had been generous to the man, and planned to keep the little statue to himself, since Shiva was his favorite Hindu god. Ian Mathison was rarely generous to anyone outside of his family.

A scream pierced through his office door.

"Cyn!" he cried, and ran out of his office. He couldn't see her through the front store windows, so he continued running. He tried to push the door open, but it was locked, and he stopped cold. He fumbled with the lock and then stepped outside. "Cynthia!?"

"Ian!" he heard the call returned from his left. He turned his head that way, and saw her kneeling on the ground.

"Are you all right, Cyn?" He asked, running to her side.

"Yeah, this little guy startled me is all." She grinned and stood up, clutching a rabbit in her arms.

Ian breathed a sigh of relief, and then sneezed. He hated anything with fur.

"Isn't he cute, Ian?" Cynthia cooed.

"No." He sneezed again.

"Can I bring him to the shop?" Her eyes lit up. "Wouldn't that be so cute? Actually having a hare at the Rare Hare?"

"You can't be serious? I'm allergic to it."

"You're allergic to everything. Besides, you're in that back office all day anyway. You won't be around it."

"Cynthia, it's my business, and that rabbit is not going to be a part of it."

"Oh, but Ian." She pouted. Ian hated it when woman pouted; it was one of the two things that he couldn't resist.

"Can't you keep it at your place?"

"But I'm gone almost all day. Besides, maybe we can get people to pay to feed it or something?"

Ian sneezed. She was playing hardball, pouting and talking about money. Cynthia knew exactly which buttons to push. He sneezed again. "Will you get a cage for it? I don't want it hopping around all over the store."

"Cool! Thank you! I've always wanted a pet rabbit." Cynthia kissed him on the cheek.

Ian sneezed.

#

Three weeks later the animal was in a cage sitting on the floor at the front of the store, as far away from Ian's office as possible. Business had picked up, his allergies had subsided somewhat, and Cynthia was happy. She had even started doing some antique appraising. Ian had pulled off three heists that paid very well, and he finally finished cleaning the statue of Shiva.

"Hey, Ian, do you think you could do me a favor?" Cynthia asked after she had closed up shop for the night.

"Anything for you, Cyn. You know that."

"I'm going to be gone all day, Sunday, could you watch the rabbit for me?"

"I'm allergic to the rabbit, remember?"

"Just for one day, I'll be back Monday afternoon. Just watch him Sunday, and I'll take him home from the store on Monday afternoon."

"Can't you take it to an animal hotel or something?"

"Why waste the money, right? Because I know you'll say yes. Please, Ian."

He wanted to say No. Had planned on it. "OK." Why was she the only person in his life to which he could deny nothing? Probably some left over "over-protective-I'll-give-you-anything-you-want" brother syndrome or something. "Just make sure you bring it over in the cage."

#

Sunday had to be the longest day of his life. His allergies weren't too bad, but the bloody thing kept staring at him. It was making him nervous. That's another thing he hated about furry creatures: they couldn't talk. Instead, the beady red eyes of this white rabbit... White, funny, he thought it had been brown before. Of course, he hadn't looked at the thing since the night Cynthia had found it - or rather, the night it had found her. Its beady eyes stared at him.

And to top it off, there was a full moon. Ian wasn't superstitious, but he refused to work on a full moon. Too many weirdoes were out, too many unexplained things happened. Ian had never liked the full moon, he always felt like someone was looking at him. And with this rabbit, the feeling doubled. Ian shuttered. He got up and gave the rabbit some food and water, and then retired to his king sized waterbed. He couldn't wait until Cynthia took that rabbit away.

#

Ian awoke to a loud thumping. He looked over at the clock; red numbers blinked 12:00. Surely it was later than that. He heard the thumping again, this time accompanied by a rattling sound. Ian flipped over on the bed and pounded his head into the pillows. The damned rabbit. He couldn't even escape from it through sleep. He should never have let Cynthia bring it into the store.

An eerie glow came from his window. Ian got up and looked outside; the full moon hung in harvest orange brilliance on the horizon. It was larger than Ian had ever seen it. Ian yawned, and went to go check on the rabbit.

Through the darkness of the living room, Ian saw the caged rabbit's eyes, glowing the same color as the moon. The rabbit thumped against the cage door, and the cage fell off the coffee table and onto the floor. The door opened, and the rabbit hopped out.

"Just perfect." Ian growled as the rabbit hopped to the black leather couch. "I do not need rabbit hair all over my furniture." Ian crossed the living room and picked up the cage as the rabbit hopped onto the couch. With the cage set back upright, Ian turned around to get the rabbit back in its cage, but the rabbit was gone. Instead a man, glowing white sat on the couch.

Ian took a step back. "Who are you, and how did you get in here?"

"I've been here all day, Ian."

"You're... the..." Ian stammered.

"Yes, Yes. I'm the rabbit. Or, more precisely the rabbit - hare, actually, is me."

"Who are you? What are you doing here?" Ian started backing slowly toward the bookcase where he kept his gun.

"I am Chandra."

"The ancient Hindu moon god?" Ian said, surprised, and dropping his guard for a moment.

"Yes, or as you call me, 'The Man in the Moon', known in the East now as the 'Hare in the Moon'."

"But, why are you here? How? I must be dreaming."

"You are dreaming, Ian, but I'm here all the same. And your gun isn't going to work, since I'm a dream."

Ian started backing toward the front door. He had to get out, to warn people of... warn people of what? A glowing white man that just appeared where a hare was supposed to be? He slumped down with his back against the front door of his penthouse apartment.

"This is all your doing, Ian." The god said with satisfaction, not displeasure.

"My doing! How the hell do you figure that? You're the god here, aren't you?"

"A limited god, yes, but you called me down."

"Okay, explain this to me, please?"

"On the last full moon, you told me you'd give anything to trade me places."

"But I didn't know there was actually a man in the moon!"

"Well, a little too late for that now, isn't it?"

"You're a dream. Just a dream...that damned rabbit. It's all just a dream, calm down, Ian." The mortal man said to himself, placing his face in his hands.

"Hare, Ian. It's a hare. Hares are bigger than rabbits." The god replied.

"Whatever! I want you out of my apartment, now."

"But, I can't go, Ian." Chandra said wistfully. "I've come to give you what you want."

Ian got up from the floor, and walked slowly toward the glowing white man. "And what do I want?"

"To be loved by everyone." The god yawned.

"I don't need to be loved by everyone. I'm perfectly fine."

"Perfectly fine? Shunned by your sister. Thanking God everyday that your parents are dead so you don't have to explain your 'profession' to them."

"I have everything that I want, Chandra, Rabbit, Hare...whoever the hell you are. I have everything I want. Money, my profession, my store, and my cousin."

"Didn't you ever hear of the phrase 'money can't buy happiness'?"

Ian blinked and then threw up his hands, and turned from the god. "I'm talking to the god of clichés!"

"You said you'd give anything. Well, you're going to give me your life. And you get to spend the rest of your days as the moon - loved by all!" Chandra laughed.

"I don't want love. I don't need it."

"Is that why you're watching a rabbit, an animal you hate, that you're allergic to, so that your cousin can go out of town? Why you told her that you'd let her keep the thing at your store in the first place?" The white man sneered. "You love her like a sister, because your sister doesn't love you."

"Stop this!" Ian covered his ears, not wanting to hear anymore. Finally he turned around to face the man. "If I give you money will you go away?"

"You will be giving me money." The god smiled.

"What do you mean?"

"Here, isn't this a nice note you left for your beloved cousin?" Chandra handed Ian a piece of paper. The note was in Ian's handwriting.

Dear Cynthia,

I'm taking a much needed vacation, and don't know when I'll be returning. I've sublet my apartment to Mr. Chandra Hare. I'm leaving you in charge of the store; take good care of it. Tell my "clients" that I'll be returning soon.

All my love,
Ian

"How? But you said I'd be returning soon. If you plan to make me the moon forever, how can I return soon?"

"Oh, it's very simple. After a week, I hear a report that a plane went down. A plane you just happened to be on, isn't that horrible? Then I get to live out your life, with your apartment, your money, and that beautiful cousin of yours, Cynthia. Did you know her name means 'Moon', Ian?"

"I don't want to be the moon. I don't want to take part in this."

"But you get everything you want, Ian. You get to be loved by everyone, to shine on lover's walking through the park at midnight, to sleep all day, to light the way for your fellow thieves, to live forever. Won't that be nice?"

"No!"

"Oh, that's too bad, because you don't have a choice." The god smiled manically.

#

Ian awoke in a blanket of stars, high above the city. He screamed.

Some say, when the gentle cool breezes blow on the night of the full moon, you can hear the scream, a whisper now, and when you awake in the morning, to find the dew about - the man in the moon is crying for all the things he left behind.

The End

Copyright © 2001 by Aeryn Sykes

Bio:Aeryn Sykes has been a writer and avid reader of speculative fiction for a good number of her short years in this life, and hopes to continue until they force her to her next one. Aeryn's hobbies include researching world religion and mythology, watching Farscape and the X-files, and working with friends in social non-profit endeavors.

E-mail: aeryn_sykes@yahoo.com

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