The Man on the Moon, Prologue: Spaceships and Bunny Rabbits

We have a story here in the Moon Kingdom.
Well, we have many stories, such as how the moon was created, how it developed such a loving relationship with the Earth and her marvelous oceans, and how the moon people first came into being, but those are not like the story about to be told. This one, let me tell you, is famous here in the Moon Kingdom, so famous that our elders still swear allegiance to its morals and our children can retell it perfectly by heart.
Have I your attention, my seekers of fables, my cravers of higher intelligence? For this is a beautiful, marvelous story, one to be pondered over and one to find a few inklings of affiliations. Grab a chair, my moon children, sit by our crystal lamps, and, yes, you can cuddle with your rabbits. After all, this is their story, too.

Once upon a time, for that’s how the greatest stories start, there was a beautiful moon princess with skin the color of the night sky and eyes that reflected the glistening stars beneath her cloud of pure white hair. She wore a smile that melted her people’s hearts (not an easy feat; our hearts are made of stone), and she danced through our crystal fields with the grace of a shooting star and the ferocity of a raging sea. She shielded the moon children with her clouded hair, and she could cure the sick with just a small, tiny grin, sweet as the snow plums that hang from our dark trees. She was loved by all, and she ruled the Moon Kingdom with a passion unrivaled by the kings of old.

However, once in a while, she would take a trip to the top of the tallest mountain, the one that touches the stars gently with its rocky fingers. She would bring nothing but a few slices of cheese (yes, I know how much you all love moon cheese), a loaf of stone bread baked with the tastiest cinnamon, and a simple, gray cloak. She would wander through the mountain ranges for a very long time. She would wet her hair as she swam through the sea of clouds, touching the cloudfish that inhabited them, and she would tear her clothes as they snagged on white thistles and the bleached, icy trees that cover the mountain. The Titans, those rock animals that inhabit the crevices and caves of the mountain, living out their existence by catching crystalline butterflies and bees and feasting on the wild starfruit that grows so abundantly, would watch her most curiously. What was one of the moon people doing so far in the mountains, in the wilderness where moon people never ventured, and not just any moon person, but the beautiful, powerful princess of the galaxy? What was she doing?

Well, on the last day of her journey, at the very peak of the mountain, she would sit on a dark cliff amidst dainty stone roses under the canopy of the large, white trees and thistles, and she would gaze out at the Earth.

The Earth!

Was there ever a more brilliant sight, ever a more wonderful thing that tantalized the senses and stimulated the imagination? She would sit there, on the top of the mountain, away from her people, away from her kingdom, and just stare out at the wonderful blue planet so far out of her reach with only her sighs to keep her company. If only she could have what the humans had on Earth, the freedom of the oceans and the lush beauty of the forests. If only she could have that delightful land that they called home.

One day, she decided, from on top of her little mountain, that she was weary of staring, that she was tired of just reflecting the blue planet in her starry eyes. She wanted it. She wanted to feel the sand between her toes; she wanted to feel the wind she had heard so much about in her hair. And so, from on top of that mountain, she fashioned a ship out of trees and out of thistles, adorned, of course, with a couple of roses (she was a princess, after all), and she sailed into the sky and across space. The stars reached out to her body, and she lost herself within the brilliant blackness as she pursued her paradise. She was leaving her boring Moon Kingdom, and she was sailing to wonderland with only the stars to guide her and with only a faint smell of cinnamon to remind her of home.

Through Earth’s atmosphere she fell, right through the blue sky and the fluffy white clouds, and she landed in the middle of a forest, amidst grown oak trees, flourishing grass, and vibrant wildflowers.
Our princess was mighty overwhelmed, as you can imagine. The colors were so different from the gray and crystal she was used to in the Moon Kingdom, so many colors, so beautiful, that her eyes hurt as she drank them in. That butterfly, that one was purple! And that one was blue! And the bees, oh, well they were yellow and black, not gray at all! And the roses were the most velvety shade of red that she began to weep because of the prodigious sensation. The wind whispered greetings into her ears and caressed her black skin. It was warm, inviting, and it led her through the grass which felt so soft on her feet. And the sun, so much closer than it had ever been, heated her skin. She was so content, so happy, that she laughed and cried and shouted to the birds in the sky, and she danced through the forest like a crazed dragonfly.

She pranced about for a very long time, relishing the heaven in which she had arrived, but she began to grow hungry. She had eaten all of her moon cheese and all of her stone bread, and her stomach began to roar like an anxious Titan. She wandered still, and she began to grow aware of her predicament. She was on a new and strange planet with nothing to eat, and if that wasn’t resolved, then there would be disastrous consequences.
She eventually came by a small little village in the woods, and she gave out a shriek of joy. How quaint and exotic the little wooden huts were, and how queer was the smoke that rose out of their chimneys and waltzed with the wind. And the people, why, they were the strangest of all! Their eyes, like everything else, harbored such strange colors and concealed such bizarre secrets and tales. Their skin was tan, not gray or black or porcelain at all, and their clothes were elegant and vibrant. And, above all, they walked through their city as she had once walked through hers; with grace and elegance. This was their planet. This was Earth.

The Moon Princess strode right up to the baker of the village, enticed by the intoxicating aroma of the sweet pastries and doughy bread that wafted through the breeze. The baker stared at her with dark brown eyes as she held out her black hands, a sign of friendship, a sign of peace, a sign of her ever-growing hunger.

“My dearest human,” the princess said. “I have just come to your planet from my Moon Kingdom, and I have had the longest trip, and I am awfully hungry. Your food smells most wonderful, and I was hoping that you would help me out by feeding me most generously.”

But the baker, with eyes more stony than anything found on the moon, replied, “You are not from here, strange creature, wicked devil! Leave my place, and leave my people! We have no room in our hearts for something as alien as you.”

The princess was caught off guard by the untrustworthy nature of the humans, for humans, as she didn’t know, are sometimes nasty creatures that like to start wars and kill friends, and most don’t take kindly to the unknown. This attitude was frightening for the princess, as would be for any of us moon people, for we are a gentle race and are always open to the novel and unfamiliar, and the Moon Princess, with tears falling from her starry eyes, ran from the village and from the horrible humans.

She drifted through the forest once again, only this time without any of the foolish laughter from before. The primary ecstasy of landing in paradise was replaced by disorientation, miserableness, and gnawing, gnashing hunger. The colors of the forest were no longer vivacious and dazzling to her mind, but rather strange and confusing. And the creatures that peered out from the foliage were no longer fascinating but frightening and, the princess thought, rather bloodthirsty. She sat down in the middle of a clearing, with the grass scratching at her legs, and she cried with self-pity. Why did she ever leave home? She was loved, she was admired, and she had everything that she had ever wanted. She didn’t need anything more. She gazed up at her home from that alien planet and thought that Earth was a much nicer place when admired from a great distance.

Here she sat, wishing and dreaming for something to take away her pain yet again, and, yes, aid did come, but not in any form she had expected. The monotony of the drowsy, Martian forest was broken up as a rabbit came hurdling through the trees. Now, the princess did not know this was a rabbit, but she found the creature to be the most redeeming thing about Earth so far. Its pelt, snow white, shone so purely in the sun and reflected nothing but decency, and its eyes, black, encompassed the wild, kind wisdom so similar to the kind found within the cosmos. Its legs moved so fast that it appeared as if it were flying . . . flying, without wings! What a marvelous creature this thing was indeed. Maybe Earth held more wonders than the Moon Princess had begun to believe.

But, oh, what was that? A flash of bright orange, and a lithe, sneaky-looking little creature had the poor rabbit within its paws. This creature I believe the humans call a fox, and it is like nothing we have here in our Moon Kingdom. It is sly, deceiving, and it uses all this cunning for the most dishonest purposes, for example, killing a sinless, wholesome rabbit.

As the fox caught the rabbit, it sang a horrible song in a gruff, whispery voice, in a tone that spoke only of dark nights and thorns that tear at skin.

Oh looky, looky, looky here
A rabbit for my table
I’ll dig my claws into her fur
And make her soul unstable

Oh break her neck and break her legs
Ruin her beyond what mends
I’ll pull out all her pretty fur
And make a coat for friends!

And when I’m done devouring you
My tender little meat
I’ll take your ears and take your head
And mount them o’er my seat!

Don’t escape, Ms. Bunny fair
And I’ll make your suffering fast
For I am sly ole Mr. Fox
And my victory has passed.

The Moon Princess was so appalled by the torture described by the horrible Mr. Fox, by the thought of such an untainted creature being torn apart by a devil, that she rose to her feet, stuck out her breast, and cried, “Leave that poor rabbit alone!”

Foxes, being tricky, evasive creatures that only win through shrouded and deceiving tactics, do not enjoy conflict. The fox weighed the princess with his cowardly eyes, knowing that she was something beyond what he could handle, and he tucked his tail between his spindly little legs and ran, barking in defeat as he escaped.

The princess stepped gently over to the rabbit and rested a delicate hand over the creature’s frantic heart. “Sweet, strange creature, are you hurt?”

The rabbit slowed her breathing, and she looked at the princess with the most grateful eyes. “Sweet, strange creature, I am just fine, and I am forever in your debt. What can I ever do to repay you?”

“I am awfully hungry,” the princess said. “I don’t suppose you know where I can get anything to eat, do you?”

The rabbit stood up straight, a small, but magnificent sight. “I am just a little rabbit, my master, and there are but two things I have to offer.”

“I would graciously accept both, if it would be no trouble to you,” replied the princess.

“One is a secret of the forest, handed down to me by my ancestors and their ancestors and so on. I am not a normal rabbit, as I can see you are not a normal human, and I have the secret to immortality.” The rabbit reached into her fluffy fur (rabbits’ fur is quite thick; it can conceal many a disguisable item) and produced a small vial made out of a large, browned oak leaf that contained a silvery liquid. “I shall give this to you as a token of my gratitude, but it will not cure your hunger. That’s why I will offer you a second gift: my own body. You saved my life, and I will gladly give mine to satisfy your hunger.”

The princess, taken aback by the rabbit’s bravery and self-sacrifice, gasped and recoiled. “No, no, I could never accept that, fearless rabbit! A creature as good as yourself shouldn’t die to save a fool like me.” The princess took the vial within her black hands and smiled at the rabbit. “This gift is enough, more than enough, even. Immortality is one of the best gifts of all.”

“But you are my friend,” said the rabbit, “and I am in your debt forever. Hunger is rather nasty, even at the best of times and even when you are immortal. I want to help you. Do not fret, sweet, strange creature, I am paying a price.” And with that, the rabbit seized a monstrous thistle from the forest floor and ran it through her daring heart.

The color red, once so magnificent to the princess’s eyes, brought about tears of grief as it stained the rabbit’s pure white pelt. “This is not right,” the princess cried. “This is not fair. This was a selfless creature, one so unpolluted by the thoughts of men, and she gave up her life and immortality for me. I must . . . I must save her.”

Now, as you know, us moon people are magical beings with magical blood, and so the princess clutched the thistle, dripping with the rabbit’s sacrifice, and she drew it across her wrist and let her blood pour into the rabbit’s wound. With the bleeding hand she grasped the vial, and she let drain half of her immortality into the rabbit as well.

“Dearest rabbit,” the princess wept, “my blood and my future run within your dying veins now. Please wake up. This is not what I wanted at all.”

And slowly, very slowly, the rabbit opened her intelligent black eyes, and she laughed at the odd creature that was so concerned for her. “My blood and my future run through your veins now as well, which seems to be exactly what you wanted. I am alive, and you are alive as well.”

The princess, a bit startled, drew the rabbit into her arms and buried her face into the downy fur. “I am alive, and I am loved, and I would love to go home. But come with me, my friend, and we shall live forever on the moon. No one shall be in debt, and we shall live together, eternally watching each other’s backs. We are one now, and we will be forever together.”

“That sounds lovely, my friend,” the rabbit said. “Now let’s return home. Together.”

And, with that, the Moon Princess and her rabbit found the ship made out of trees and thistles and roses. And, together, friendship immortal, the two sailed away from the troubles of Earth and back to the Moon Kingdom where they stayed, forever one and forever loved.

This is the story of our queen, my dear children, if you haven’t guessed, and of why we, the moon people, are immortal.

Yes, immortality is wondrous, isn’t it? But so are life, death, and sacrifice. And so is love as well. Never forget that, my children.

Why am I telling you this? What is the point to the ramblings of a moon person who has lived too long? Well, let me tell you a similar story, and perhaps it will all become clear, for these two tales are intertwined. But this story I am about to tell you involves something much more sinister, much more tragic, and may not have the happy ending I have just shared with you.

This is the story of evil.
This is the story of love.
This is the story of sacrifice.
This is the story of the Man on the Moon.