Between the Sun and the Moon (TK Craft - New Orleans, LA)

        The moon was her sail, watching her as it hung above her. The wind was her guide, it blew through the moon and carried her forward. The waves of the ocean splashed gently against her raft, spilling over the thin planks so that when she sat down her dress became wet with the ocean water. For many hours she sat in the small puddle of her raft, patiently waiting for the wind to guide her to her destination. 

Some nights, when the moon waned to nothing she was forced to rock alone in the darkness. Without the moon, the wind could not carry her forward, so she drifted with the will of the ocean. The ocean steered her away from her destination, setting her journey back a few nights. 

Eventually the moon waxed full enough to carry her again. Once again, the wind and the moon worked together to carry her onward. 

Her own sense of purpose swelled with the phases of the moon. When the moon was at its peak, so was her determination. On these nights her face was wet with tears, her spirit so full her body could almost not contain it. She wept, not out of sadness and fear, but with tears that came from the conviction of her journey. 

Daylight never came for her. She sailed on through the nights with only her memories of the sun’s warmth. Of course she missed the sun, but when the salt from the ocean stung the cuts on her thighs she remembered why she had left. And when those wounds began to heal, the scars that remained reminded her why she sailed toward new lands.

After many nights she began to see a crimson shimmer on the water. The reflection of the sun appeared on the horizon. Her body tensed, flakes of sunburnt skin drifted into the wind. 

The next night the moon began to wane again. The ocean drifted her away from the

golden horizon. Seeing his face again churned her stomach. The waves tried to still her growing anxiety. She rose from her wet seat to distance herself from the waves. She stood on tip-toes, longing to glimpse his features on the horizons. 

“I had forgotten how beautiful his face was…” She said to the moon one night, but the moon was almost gone again and could not respond. 

“Maybe this time it won’t hurt me?” Her question drifted into the darkness. 

For so many nights she patiently waited to leave the sun, but seeing his face had changed something inside her. That longing she felt those first nights, the nights the currents had carried her away, had come back full force. She grew impatient, pacing the small surface of her raft. 

Another night passed and the moon was fully gone. She saw nothing in the darkness. 

She felt the waves pulling away from the warmth of the sun. She knew which way he lay. She did something she had never done before, she thrust her arms over the side of the raft. Instantly the water stung her sunburnt and peeling arms. She hissed and pulled her arm back, rubbing it quickly with her opposite hand. She narrowed her eyes with determination and thrust her arm back into the water. 

She began to paddle with her whole arm, yelping in pain with the motion. Tears stung her eyes as she continued to paddle away from the direction the tides pulled her. These tears felt different, they sprang forth with the same purpose she had felt all those full moons. Yet, tonight, in the darkness of the absent new moon, her tears felt heavy and harsh. She did not welcome them. 

Her paddling caused the raft to drift and spin, it didn’t lead her forward. She yanked her arms from one side and rushed over to the opposite side. She repeated her rowing there. She began rowing in a frantic rhythm, jumping from side to side of the raft. Overtime, her arms no longer stung only when they were in the water. Blisters began to form on both of her arms and her pain was constant. Her tears grew heavier and heavier as her breath grew more and more ragged. Occasionally she would pause and scan the horizon, hoping to glimpse even a shimmer of light. She wished desperately for dawn to come. 

Her effort was great, but her progress was slow. The dawn never appeared and soon she grew too tired to sustain her rowing. With a grunt of frustration she flopped herself onto the deck, and tried to stop her tears, to slow her breathing. Exhausted, she slept and waited for the moon to return.

Several nights passed before the moon and the wind began to move her forward again.

One night, when the moon was almost full she asked: “How long must I wait to see his face again?” 

The moon smiled sadly down at her. “You must be patient, my child.”

This answer frustrated the girl. She would have raised her arms and argued, but the blisters were so sore and she hardly felt like moving. 

The next night she was sure she would glimpse the sun again, but he never appeared.

Another night passed, and then another. On the third night she grew frustrated and shouted at the moon.

“You must give me an answer! I must know when I’ll see him again.” 

The moon gave her the same sad smile. The girl wasn’t sure if it even was a smile. But the moon said nothing. 

The moon and girl sat in silence for several nights. In those nights the girl tried to empty

her mind and return to the stillness she had felt before the rowing. She listened to the wind as it breezed through her hair. She tried to listen for words, a voice in the wind, but heard nothing. Until one night she did. 

It was the last night before the moon would wane enough to end her progress for another cycle. She heard the wind whisper her name. She tried to speak to the wind, she asked it a million questions but when she spoke she was unable to hear the wind’s reply. So instead, she sat quietly and listened for the song of the wind. 

The next night, the moon was too small for the wind to carry her any further. She felt that familiar frustration grow within her. She did her best to keep it down, but it managed to bubble up in small ways: her silence broken by an agitated sigh, or a phantom itch on the back of her arm. 

  The next night, when the moon had fully vanished, she was able to relax again. When her fidgets had ceased and her itches had vanished, the voice of the wind returned. Now she heard more than just her name being spoken. This night, the wind whispered, “We must keep her safe. We must keep her from the sun.” In sadness, she realized the voice was not meant for her. In anger she realized what it meant to hear the wind when there was no moon. She realized that the wind also controlled her journey.

New tears formed on her face. These tears carried all that she had felt in the nights before and more. Tears of pain, of determination, and with those a new feeling of anger. All this time the moon and the wind were working together to keep her from moving anywhere. She was trapped moving forward and back in an endless cycle. She paused in her angry thoughts: “Why then did I see the sun’s face?” She asked herself through the tears.

“He must have been trying to reach me!” Was her automatic reply. Some joy returned to her. The girl thought of trying to row again, but the sting of her arms reminded her that this would do her no good. 

“Wind! Listen to me!” She spun in place on the the raft, shouting at the wind. 

“Bring me to the land of the sun!” She paused to listen, then, upon hearing no reply added, “I demand you!”

“You have kept me in darkness for all of these nights. I demand to see the sun again!”

Stomping her foot like a stubborn child she began to shout over and over again. There was still no reply. 

“The sun! The sun! I demand to see the sun!”  Each time she shouted she drove her foot hard into the planks of her raft.

“The sun! The sun! I demand to see the sun!” Her foot began to splinter the board beneath her. 

Was it her imagination or did the wind pick up just slightly?

  “The sun! The sun! I demand to see the sun!” The board under her cracked, caving in on itself. The wind was definitely picking up, blowing her hair out from around her face.

“The sun! The sun! I demand to see the sun!” She moved onto the next plank, driving her foot downward into it. Her dress billowed around her as the wind continued to grow. 

“The sun! The sun! I demand to see the sun!” Her foot was cut open as another plank splintered. She had to shout louder and louder each time to be heard over the growing wind. 

“The sun! The sun! I demand to see the sun!”

Finally the wind responded.

“ENOUGH CHILD!” The wind shouted at her. “We pulled you from the land of the sun and kept you from him for a reason. Look at your skin, look at your scars and burns. He did this to you!”

The wind’s wrath had begun to churn the oceans. The once gentle waves grew larger, crashing on top of the raft. 

“I never asked to be pulled away from him!” She protested. 

“You had fallen too deep in love with him to see the pain he was causing you. Someone had to act.”

The wind howled and the girl fell backwards, landing on the far edge of the raft. She righted herself, fighting hard to stand against the wind. 

“But I saw his face! He was looking for me. You cannot keep us away from each other. I want to go back to his land.”

 Her cut foot burned in the water around her, and her blistered arms stung from the wind. The wind had wiped her eyes dry. 

“I FORBID IT!”  

With the wind’s final shout. A huge wave began to form in the ocean. The girl’s eyes grew large with fear as she saw the wave approach the raft. There was no light from the moon, but the water churned so much she saw it in the darkness. It was many times taller than the girl. 

“No! I did not mean for this to happen.” Cried the wind. 

There was more to be said but the girl would not hear it. The wave crashed against the raft, splintering the planks and downing the moonless mast. The wind could not cease it’s howling and more waves formed. Broken pieces of raft were thrown about in the storm. The girl was nowhere to be seen.

The wind concentrated hard and summoned all it’s control. It took some time but eventually the wind and the waves slowed and stilled. When the wind had become calm enough he looked for the small raft in the vast sea. But there was no sign of the girl. He looked and looked for her, but saw no trace of her among the wreckage of the raft. The wind wept.

…

Many nights later the moon waxed enough to light the sky once more. For a moment the moon thought that something was missing. The moon tried hard to remember what it was but could think of no answer. The moon shrugged and scanned the oceans of it’s land looking for someone to watch over, as he had always done. The wind did not return and the moon did not miss him.

…

At dawn a young woman washed up on the shore of an island. 

By mid day the young woman opened her eyes and was blinded by the brilliance of the sun. Overjoyed, but in great pain, she staggered to her feet on the beach. She coughed sea water from her lungs and tried to speak. Her throat was raw and hoarse so it took her many attempts before she could speak. 

“The sun! I have returned to you at last! The wind and moon kept me from you, but I have managed to make my way back.” 

The sun looked at the young woman on his shore. He looked her up and down but said nothing to her. His rays beat down on her skin. 

“Sir! Won’t you please say something? I have traveled many nights to be here with you!”

But the sun continued to say nothing. Eventually he grew bored and began to scan the beach for other new arrivals. 

Familiar tears sprang to the young woman’s eyes. 

“Please….” She muttered. Her heart sank and she was too tired to shout at the sun.  She fell to her knees on the beach and wept in the land of the sun.  

…

Once all the tears had left her, the woman returned to her feet. She set off into the island and began gathering supplies. She spent days exploring the island, pulling bits of twine and new planks from wrecked ships she discovered there. The days were endless. The sun never looked her way, but his rays continued to bake her skin. 

Before too many days had passed the woman had built a new raft, sturdier this time, closer to one of the ships wrecked on the beach. On one of these ships, she found a large piece of cloth. The cloth was dirty and gray and reminded her of the moon. She fixed the sail to a new mast and set off back into the ocean. 

The first day in the water there was no moon and no wind. She watched the sun circle his land but he never looked for her nor spoke to her. She pushed past her sadness and worked on listening for the wind. 

It took another few days, but soon she heard the faint whisper of her name. The wind caught her sail and the ship began to move away from the island, away from the land of the sun. 

For many days she sailed. With her new sail the woman guided her ship towards the seas of the moon. She listened hard for the wind, but it was still weak and only said her name. 

After a time, she saw the moon in the distance hovering over an island. The moon saw her, cocked its head and stared at her for a long time. The woman waved her hand at the moon but the moon only stared. It was as if the moon did not recognize the woman. She tugged at her sail and steered the shift to new islands in the distance. 

...

She landed on one of these islands after some time. Laying on the beach she was surprised to find that the moonlight still reached her here. In the glow, the woman thought about the sun, the moon and the wind. She fell asleep thinking about where she would go with her new freedom. 

When she awoke it was dawn. At first, this didn’t phase the woman until she realized he could be here. She gasped and scrambled to her feet. She saw the sun rising in the distance, and spun around. Behind her, the moon hung in the sky still. The moon was fading while the sun rose.

“It’s beautiful.” She whispered to herself, and then, to the wind she said “Thank you for bringing me to this place.” 

The wind blew through her hair. She brushed the hair behind her ear and listened.

“It was not I who brought you here child. You found this place on your own with your sail.” 

The woman smiled into the breeze. She had used the wind to find a land where neither the sun, nor the moon ruled as one. A place they shared. She stayed on the beach and looked up at twinkling lights in the sky. She had never seen stars before. 

After many days and many nights she would set sail again to explore the lands between the moon and the sun. For now, she lay in the sand and spoke to the stars. For now, this was a place she could call home.