Eating the Moon

by Mark David Campbell

  I roll my eyes. “If it smells like a pig and acts like a pig, it’s probably a pig!”

  Luca laughs and begins toward the path.

  “Hey,” I call after him, “aren’t you forgetting something?” I pick the coin off the rock and hold it up.

  “Keep it.” He winks. “I’ll bet we can find lots more.” And he continues down the path. Once he’s on the beach, he calls back up to me. “Hey, Kiddo! You know what that coin means?”

  “No, what?”

  “It means you really are a whore now.” He jeers.

  I grab some stones and throw them at him.

  He laughs loudly as he trots up the trail toward the village.

  I tell myself there’s nothing to worry about. Luca’s all right. He’s still his old Boy Scout self. For me, being marooned on this island feels like my salvation, but maybe for Luca it’s a prison. I know we can’t stay here forever, and sooner or later we will have to leave.

  The next day, all is back to normal with Kizo, Luca, Pica, and me in the canoe well before dawn. We paddle out to the reef as usual, and Kizo and Luca set our nets. For now, all we have to do is sleep and wait for fish. Pico is in the bow with his head hanging over the side watching the marine life below and lazily playing in the water with his hand as he sings one of his many happy little songs. Kizo, as always, is sitting in the stern, fishtailing the broad paddle to maintain our position along the reef as we gently bob in the surf. Luca is asleep between Kizo’s legs, and I’m sitting in the middle, one hand firmly on my basket sombrero, the other gripping the gunwale.

  “Rufus, Rufus!” Pico shouts, jolting us from our sun-induced trance. He points out toward the reef. Luca wakes up with a start as Kizo digs his paddle in deep and heads our canoe directly toward our nets. I squint into the blinding glare and see a great black tail and dorsal fin flip out of the water. Rufus is shredding our nets and taking whatever he wants of our catch for his breakfast. I wish I could say that Rufus is a man-eating great white shark, except he’s not nearly so grand. He’s just a big old bad-tempered fish-stealing hammerhead shark. All the same, you can never really conceptualize how big a seven-foot shark is until he swims directly under your keel and you realize he is half the size of the fragile little craft you are sitting in. As for the man-eating part, hammerheads are normally opportunists, and I suppose he is too lazy to prey on people when fish are so readily available.

  Luca stands in in the bow with his spear poised, ready to stick Rufus.

  “You’ll never catch him that way.” Kizo laughs. “If you want to kill Rufus, we will need to bring my heavy net and my longest spear.”

  By the time we reach our net, Rufus has, with a flip of his great tail, already swum off into deeper water. Kizo and Luca haul in what’s left of our nets, and Pico and I salvage what we can of our catch. Thanks to Rufus, we’ll spend the rest of the day mending our nets with barely a fish to show for our effort.

  “I guess it’s coconut soup for dinner tonight,” I say to Pico as we head back to shore.

  Pico rolls his eyes.

  That evening as usual, Luca and I climb the cliff to lounge on the flat rocks at the signal fire and watch the sun sink into the sea.

  “I wonder if I tried a more formal approach, maybe Nando would get the idea,” I say, poking the fire with a stick.

  “Why don’t you just ask him to have sex with you?”

  “What if he says no? Then what would I do?”

  “You’re a big old chicken, aren’t you?” Luca makes a sound like a squawking chicken.

  “Stop it! I’m not like you. I’m not as brave as you are. Maybe I could bring him some flowers or something. They love flowers. Like these ones here. They’re pretty.” I reach over and examine a little patch of flowers growing out of a crag. “They sort of look like lilies.”

  “Oh, that’s a brilliant idea. They practically worship sex. Why not give him a bunch of severed plant genitals. That ought to make him fall in love with you.” Luca flops over on his back and laughs uncontrollably.

  “Oh shit, I never thought about it that way.” I start to giggle along with him. “I can just see him running in horror as I arrive with my bouquet of mutilated sex organs in hand.”

  “I thought you said you were supposed to be an anthropologist?”

  “I am, but we never studied native techniques on how to get lucky.”

  “Too bad. That might be something useful.” Luca grins at me. “Hey, when we get back home, I should go to university and become a professor or something.”

  “Oh please.” I roll over flat on my back. “What would you teach, Sex 101?”

  Luca’s expression droops, and he speaks in a low, serious tone. “If I have to go to prison, I might as well spend my time studying, right?”

  I swallow and look over at him. “Oops. I kind of forgot about that. Hey, would it be so terrible if we just stayed here?”

  “No!” Luca sits upright. “You don’t understand. I have to go back.”

  “But why?”

  “The accident wasn’t my fault.” Luca turns away and looks out to sea. Then he says in a low voice, “They threw me away when I was born. I’ve never counted for anything. And if I stay here it’s like I never existed at all. I just want another chance to prove I’m somebody important—a real man.”

  I raise my fist to my mouth and bite my knuckle. Then I reach out and put my hand on his shoulder. “You have nothing to prove to me.”

  Luca remains rigid.

  “I’m sure it’s just a matter of time before we are rescued,” I say in my most reassuring tone, but I feel like a liar. I dread the thought of going back, and more and more, with each passing day, I want to stay.

  GUY STOPPED talking and looked at Richard.

  “Why was the shark called Rufus?”

  “Good question.” Guy chuckled. “Well, when I was a child, our neighbors had a nasty black mutt by the name of Rufus, who stole shoes and newspapers from the steps or laundry off the lines and shredded whatever he got hold of. He terrorized the neighborhood children with his particular habit of lying in wait out of sight under a bush or behind a corner, then bounding out snarling and snapping his jaws. More than one child bore a scar where Rufus had ambushed them. It felt right to name that nasty black beast after that old mutt.”

  “Ah, so Rufus represents a childhood fear.” Richard leaned to one side and rested his chin on the back of his hand. “Didn’t you say Nando was the one man on the island who wouldn’t have sex with you?”

  “Well, that’s the way it was! Every time I made a pass at him, he evaded it.”

  Richard rubbed the back of his head. “But didn’t you also say that Luca wasn’t sexually interested in you either?”

  Guy didn’t respond.

  Richard slid himself into a more upright position. “Sex without intimacy—intimacy without sex. It would appear that in your erotic paradise you have trouble putting the two pieces of the equation together.”

  “And what do sharks have to do with any of this?” Guy scoffed.

  “Nothing really. It’s just that between the island and home is a vast unknown stretch of sea full of dangers, like sharks. But there’s also the lure of gold and the chance of going home rich. You appear to be torn between fear and desire. Do you remain within the pleasure and safety of your fantasy, or do you take the risk and return to reality?”

  Guy dropped his head and held his hands together in front of his lips as if he were praying. “But here I don’t have to worry about sharks or anything else, and I have all the money I need. What could I possibly fear or desire?”

  “That depends on what you’re looking for, doesn’t it?”

  “What am I looking for? That’s the big question, isn’t it? I don’t know. What is anyone looking for?”

  Richard glanced down at his watch. “Let’s pick up on that next week. Okay?”

  Guy got up and walked toward the door but stopped and stared at the corner between Richard’s desk and th
e wall. “You know, the problem is we want it all.”

  Richard swiveled around in his chair and looked into the corner, where he had left his gym bag wide open. Clearly visible on top of his damp towel and swim trunks was his bottle of Minoxidil hair growth tonic. Richard clenched his teeth and jerked his head back toward Guy, who was hovering in the doorway.

  “But no matter how hard we try, time always creeps up on us.” Guy strolled out of the room, leaving Richard with a scowl on his face.

  Chapter 11: The Juice Market

  “DOC, DID you study evolution?” Guy walked into the office at exactly nine with two cups of coffee. He was wearing a faded green T-shirt with a large fish design that resembled a born-again Christian bumper sticker, but Guy’s fish had feet with the name Darwin printed below it.

  Richard quickly closed his computer file before Guy was close enough to read it. He turned. “Oh good, coffee.” Richard smothered a yawn with his fist. “I could really use a second cup this morning.” As he reached out for the cup, Guy glanced at the back of Richard’s hand. The distinctive red wings stamp that they give you at the door of the Fly gay disco was still visible.

  Guy took his seat on the sofa. Richard followed him over and sat in the swivel chair.

  “Doc, where do you stand on the nature versus nurture argument? You know, are we born gay or do we become gay? By the way, new glasses, eh? Very trendy.”

  “I had to get reading glasses. As you pointed out, time creeps up on all of us.”

  “You’re still young.” Guy studied Richard’s face. “They make your head look like a square block.”

  Richard frowned and sucked in air through his teeth. “The elusive gay gene, eh? Well, I doubt they’ll ever find such a thing, but what’s more worrisome is that anyone would even try.”

  “There are a lot of wankers out there who want to cure us. Why not screw with the genes of unborn children?”

  “You can be sure they’re going to try.” Richard nodded and took a sip of his coffee.

  “Good machine. Bad machine.” Guy moved his arms alternatively up and down and rocked back and forth like a windup toy robot.

  “Do you feel like a machine?”

  “No.” Guy raised his arm and forefinger in the air like a crazed evangelist. “I’m an abomination of nature!”

  “Unfortunately, there are still some people who think like that.” Richard’s eyes watered, and he clenched his teeth as he fought back another yawn.

  “Breast implants. Now there’s an abomination of nature.” Guy cupped and jiggled his chest with both hands. “But if you really want to talk about nature, look at the American buffalo.” Guy spread his arms in an arch and hollowed his chest as if he was measuring the girth of a buffalo’s shoulders or posing like a bodybuilder. “Those big hairy boys are the biggest homos in nature.”

  Joining in the farce, Richard raised his flat hand to the side of his mouth. “I’ve heard some scandalous rumors going around about penguins too.”

  Guy snorted a laugh. “Buffalo, penguins, and people. We’re social animals. And same-sex bonding leads to cooperation. It’s all just part of the game of survival.”

  Richard stretched back in his chair. “I guess with both psychology and anthropology, it’s often easier to demonstrate what tears us apart rather than what binds us together.” The yawn Richard was holding back burst forth. He waved his hand as he rapidly blinked his tearing eyes. “’Scuse me, didn’t get enough sleep last night.”

  “Late night, eh?” Guy laughed. “You still have a piece of glitter stuck on your left eyebrow.”

  Richard flinched, licked his fingertip, and rubbed his eyebrow vigorously.

  “That’s it. You got it.”

  Richard looked at Guy as if he expected him to make some comment or say something invasive.

  Guy smiled innocently, stared at the wall, and began to tell his story.

  TONIGHT IS the festival of the fall equinox. The sun has just set, and Nando and I are standing on the patio watching the men gather in the main plaza and on the lower steps of the great pyramid mound. As usual, the torches are lit, the drums and flutes are playing, and the smell of fish roasting on the spit fills the air. All along the steps, elaborate feather decorations, woven loincloths, and capes are carefully spread out in distinct clusters between baskets of corn, potatoes, and squash.

  “What’s all that for? Is it some kind of market?”

  “Yes, it’s the most important kind.” Nando beams. “These are all the things the women have grown and made.”

  “Why are they all laid out like that?”

  “For the men to see! When a man accepts a bundle of gifts, he signals he wants to enter into an arrangement with a woman and her mate to make a child and to raise that child together. It is one of the most sacred rituals.”

  “Then what happens?”

  “The woman can accept or refuse him. Women, of course, only want men who are good fishermen, affectionate and diligent fathers, and beautiful, so it’s important for a man to stay in good shape and look his best.” Nando laughs. “That’s why Kizo and Lalli are such good fish to catch.” Nando reaches over and adjusts the green feather-decorated belt I’m wearing. “My sister and Dzil have made an arrangement with Lalli for his juice.”

  “Who’s supposed to get pregnant?”

  Nando laughs. “My sister is too old, and Lalli and her are both from my mother’s lineage, but Dzil’s mother’s lineage is different and she is still young. It’s a very good match. I helped arrange it.”

  “I imagine with Lalli and Dzil as the biological parents the child will be beautiful. You’re a good brother.”

  “Yes, I am.” Nando smiles.

  “So Dzil and Kyle will be the child’s mothers, and Lalli will be the father?”

  “Yes, that’s how it works. There are usually two fathers, but not always.

  “Do not worry, even if you are a bad fisherman, there are still many women who will want a baby with green eyes and skin as pink as a seashell, Yabai,” Nando says as he fluffs my green feather armband. For some time now, Nando and everyone else have been calling me Yabai, which means seashell. Luca, of course, still calls me Kiddo.

  “I’m not making a baby with anyone.” I playfully bat Nando’s hand away.

  “Remember, be very careful about accepting gifts.” Nando taps the side of his head with his finger. “Especially from Rurlu. She is very tricky, you know, and she would give anything for her partner to give birth to a pink baby.”

  “I’m not pink anymore! I’m a rosy light brown color.”

  Nando smirks.

  “Okay, so parts of me are pink, but I still don’t want a pink baby.”

  We both laugh.

  “Nando, there’s something else I want to know.” I pause for a moment, trying to think of how to phrase my question. “What happens when a man is not made, well, you know, quite right?”

  At first Nando looks at me like he doesn’t understand. Then he smiles and says, “Oh, you mean like when a baby boy is born but she is really a girl—like Rurlu. That’s simple—she did the rituals with the other girls and was initiated as a woman. It happens all the time. The other way around too. Some girls are born with a penis. Some boys are born with a vagina.”

  “You mean Rurlu’s not really a woman?”

  Nando chuckles. “Of course she is. She was born with a penis. That is all.”

  I’m quiet for a moment while I think. Then I screw up my face. “Well, if Rurlu has a penis, why doesn’t she impregnate her partner herself?”

  Nando looks at me suspiciously, then bursts out laughing. “Oh, Yabai, you say some very strange things.”

  I shrug and hold out my palms. Then I shake my head. “Actually, I had another question in mind. I want to know what happens to the men who, well, you know, who don’t love men, if you know what I mean?”

  Nando looks to the ground as if he is deeply embarrassed, clears his throat, and speaks in a hushed voice. “There are so
me men who cannot help that they are made wrong. It is very sad, and they do not want to bring shame upon their families. Sometimes they try to keep it secret, but those who cannot go to live on the Far Island.”

  “You mean the other island over there?” I bob my head sideways in the direction of the island.

  “No, that is the Near Island. The Far Island is out beyond the reef. You can only see it from high up the volcano.” Nando looks from side to side, checking to see if anyone else is close enough to hear. “Sometimes there are bad men who try to have sex with children. They are also sent away to the Far Island.”

  “And what about the women?”

  “Shh.” Nando signals me with his flat hand to keep my voice low. He continues in an even softer voice. “As I said, I do not know for sure, but they say on the Far Island there are both men and women who live together like animals and follow the rule of Tara the Deceiver. But I cannot believe this is true. I think it’s a story they tell to frighten children. Please, no more questions about such shameful things. It is time to celebrate.”

  It’s obvious I’ve made Nando very uncomfortable, so I decide it’s best to leave the topic alone for now. “You’re right.” I smile. “Let’s celebrate.” I look out across the plaza and spot Mazu sauntering along, his long skinny body draped in flowing red scarves. Jab, who’s shorter and somewhat chubby, is likewise wrapped in red scarves. I throw them a wave, and Mazu stops abruptly, props his bent wrist on his hip, posing like a model from the pages of Vogue, then whispers something into Jab’s waiting ear. The two sneer, look away, and continue onward toward the steps of the pyramid mound.

  “I think we were just snubbed,” I say to Nando, who is looking to the ground.

  “Mazu and Jab think they are better because they belong to the Red brotherhood.”

  “Kizo is a Red, and it doesn’t seem to matter to him.”

  “Yes, but Kizo is beautiful and a good fisherman, so he does what he likes.”

  “Never mind, neither Mazu nor Jab are very beautiful, and they aren’t very good fishermen either.”