Dark Side of the Moon by C. Sean McGee

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Dark Side of the Moon by C. Sean McGee Page 7

by C. Sean McGee


  The crowd erupted in cheer.

  Theodore stood somewhere near the middle. He was being squashed on all sides by the larger rabbits all about him. And as the others raised their paws above their heads and clapped in unison, Theodore simply stood with his arms by his side thinking to himself that the air down here, amidst the celebration, was becoming warmer and thicker by the second and he felt his breath getting shorter.

  “Now for the ribbon.”

  King Rabbit took the scissors and cut through the red ribbon and the crowd erupted again and all through the kingdom, in the tunnels and at home in front of their televisions, rabbits cheered and hugged and waited anxiously for the small door behind their king to open and; for the first time in any of their lives, to see the sun.

  “They key please” said King Rabbit.

  He had his hand extended but his servants all shrugged their shoulders and responded with blank expressions. They all turned to the royal guard who then turned to the scientists who then turned to the engineers, who were the ones who built the door.

  Nobody had a key.

  “My dear rabbits. This is a very embarrassing situation. As it turns out, someone has forgotten the key. Can we send for the key?” said King Rabbit looking at his servants.

  They shook their heads.

  “Ok then. The inauguration will be delayed until tomorrow. Thank you so much for coming, please respect one another on your way out and we thank you for being here for the ribbon cutting. Tomorrow, the grand festival of the opening of the door shall take place at dawn, where; we shall have for the first time, a real sun to wake up to.”

  The crowd cheered.

  But not like they did before. This time in an empty contrary kind of way and it sounded more like the natural tone of their voices and so they hanged on for one more day, quiet in their discontent, celebrative of their desperation.

  At home, Theodore picked through some clothes that were lying about on the floor. They had their first gig tonight and he wasn’t sure how he felt about it. He wasn’t nervous and he wasn’t at all excited. Yet he wasn’t bored and he wasn’t indecisive.

  “Can I tell you that thing?” asked Florence.

  “Can it wait?” said Theodore.

  “Of course, what am I thinking? You must be so nervous. I want this to be special anyway. What should I wear? I never know what to wear.”

  Florence was opening all of his drawers and his closets and she was tearing blouses and skirts and high heeled shoes and fish net stockings and littering his bed with lipstick and eye shadow and blush and brushes and combs.

  Theodore watched her busily readying herself and he stared not at Florence, but at the arsenal in her hands and at her reach.

  “They’re not mine” he said.

  “Of course not. I’d be worried if they were.”

  “But what are they doing here, in my house, in my room, in my drawers?”

  “I put them here silly billy.”

  “Are you moving in?” he asked, looking fraught and pale.

  “What colour do think; red or pink?”

  He looked at her holding the two dresses.

  “Any colour you like” he said.

  BRAIN DAMAGE

  Everyone was backstage, seated in a circle and smiling and laughing. Someone lit a joint at one point and it passed through every paw except for Theodore’s. He stood by the door with his arms folded looking at his friends reveling while in the back of the room, a black and white Badger stood with its arms folded looking with combustible eyes and grinding teeth.

  “Oh come and sit with us hunny bunny. Don’t be so…”

  “Flippin weird” yelled The Drummer.

  The group all laughed hysterically.

  “Mi amour is such a bore and his name is …”

  “Theodore” shouted Florence, high on belonging.

  Theodore would have ignored them had he believed that they were actually there, mocking him. He felt so out of orbit with everything and with himself and so he stared at the green carpet below the door and he thought of nothing; no sound, no picture and no feeling whatsoever.

  None of this was real.

  Florence, the band, work, the tunnel, the dark side of the moon, none of it was real. It was like The Badger, something he was living inside of a fever. Maybe he lay on a bed somewhere, fed through tubes and kept in a deep sleep and what he was living now was just an afebrile dream.

  “If I can’t see them, then I can’t imagine them real” he thought.

  But he could hear them laughing and he could imagine in his wayward eyes what they looked like, scampering over one another, giving high fives and improper smiles and it was so hard to erase their voices from his head.

  But he tried.

  He stared at the floor, imagining what it would have been like had he not met Florence, had he not taken her home and had he not remembered her name, the outline of her petite body, the sound of her brash laugh, the roundness of her eyes and the way they found you no matter where you tried to hide and the way she said his name.

  He wished he could not remember any of it. He wished that when she said his name, he would turn, as if he thought it was someone else and when he caught her plated eyes, he would see it wasn’t her and he would turn away; mollified and unfamiliar.

  As so he stared at the floor, imagining none of the friends and lovers as his and a newspaper slid through the crack below the door and its front page was blank. Theodore leaned down and picked up the newspaper and flicked through every page and every page was a blank as the one before.

  “Oh my god” shouted Florence. “Did you see that?”

  “No” thought Theodore.

  She ran over to him and pulled the newspaper from his hand and took it back to the circle seating herself in the centre and she held up the front page to Rex and the other band members and they were all in awe and shock and they all said things like “I can’t believe it” and “I knew it all along” and they all looked so concerned and their merriment had soured.

  “Can you believe it Theodore?” shouted Florence.

  She held up the newspaper into the air above everyone’s heads.

  “Did you see this Theodore? Oh my god, what did you think? Is this the strangest thing you’ve ever seen?”

  He looked over and saw Florence flouting over a blank page.

  “You should sing about this” she said.

  “Hey, great idea. We could write a song about this. Now. Let’s do it” said Rex.

  The band started strumming their guitars and tapping their wooden sticks against the ground and they all looked to Theodore to fill in the words and they stared with open eyes and wanting ears but his face was as blank as the paper, with no expression and no care and the others, they watched him in absolute wonder and Florence, she jumped to her feet and rushed to where he stood, draping herself over his body as he stood blank and disengaged and the other band members, they read him like a conductor and they played with an unforeseen zest and the song, it just came out them , from nowhere and Theodore, he stood there, silent and as blank as the front page.

  “You’re a genius” said Rex.

  The others agreed.

  They put down their instruments and cheered and the cheering was so loud it was like thunder clapping in his ears and when he turned around, there were hundreds, maybe thousands of rabbits all cheering and clapping and waving their cellular phones in the air and they shouted for more and more and Theodore, he looked to the side of the stage and he saw Florence looking at him adoringly, her right paw gently massaging her belly and then he looked at his band who were circled around him and they had their instruments in their hands and they strumming and beating away and he had no idea what they were playing and he looked back across the stage at Florence, and he had no idea who she was and then he looked out over at the cheering crowd and he had no idea how to make them stop. The less he did, the more fascinated they became.

  “Encore, encore, encore” they shout
ed.

  Theodore stood there, as blank as the front page.

  And they cheered.

  And they were ecstatic.

  And the girls wanted to be his.

  And the men wanted to be him.

  And he stared, as blank as the front page.

  And the crowd they shouted more.

  And the band they shouted more.

  And The Badger, he shouted more.

  And Florence, she shouted “I’m pregnant.”

  And Theodore left the stage.

  ECLIPSE

  Everything he had and everything that he was and everything he would ever be was everything that everyone imagined him being.

  Theodore walked for such a long time and he thought about all of the things that gravitated towards him and he felt insignificant in light of the part of himself that he couldn’t see, that part that others found so fulfilling.

  Florence was pregnant.

  And he couldn’t find the other door.

  He wanted to quit.

  Everything.

  All of it.

  Florence.

  The pregnancy.

  His apartment.

  Her clothes

  His drawers.

  Shopping.

  Overdrafts.

  Burrowing.

  Sore paws.

  Rewards.

  Promotion.

  Use the other door.

  His band.

  Fame.

  Work.

  Mirrors.

  His reflection.

  Real.

  Or not.

  And use the other door.

  Theodore stepped onto the stage and kicked aside the red ribbon that was still strewn about, now tumbled and curled over itself and it was amazing how a red ribbon, even when it has been discarded and left to wind, can still look so special.

  Theodore picked up the scrap of ribbon and if it had feelings, he could hold it close and shush its fright and concern and he would tell it, “I know how you feel.”

  With the red ribbon in his hand, Theodore approached the other door; the small wooden door at the back of the stage and he pressed his nervous paw on the handle and the handle turned.

  The door was unlocked.

  It opened.

  He walked through to the other side.

  And then he remembered where he left his keys.

  Also by C.SeanMcGee

  A Rising Fall (CITY b00k001)

  Utopian Circus (CITY b00k011)

  Heaven is Full of Arseholes

  Coffee and Sugar

  Christine

  Rock Book Volume I: The Boy from the County Hell

  STALKER WINDOWS:

  BedroomWindow

  LoungeWindow

  BathroomWindow

  THE FREE ART COLLECTION©2013

 

 

 


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