Dark Side of the Moon by C. Sean McGee Read online

  Theodore waited with the other rabbits towards about half way down the track waiting for one of the middle carriages. His herd mingled with the dirty paws; the quick talking foxes, the savage and conniving ferrets and the armadillos, which bruised their way to the top of this bottom rung of burrowers. They were paid handsomely and lived a respectful title and position in society, admired but not revered, lesser than the dog and the mole but still higher than The Feelers, those worms and spiders and colonies of ants that tunneled their way through the broken rock, reporting on what may or may not lay ahead.

  “Has the afternoon train passed?” said The Mole.

  “Not yet” said Theodore.

  “What are you doing? You’re talking to a mole? Are you insane? Are you mad?” yelled a rabbit beside him.

  Theodore hadn’t even noticed. Beside him stood a massive creature. Massive compared to him anyway. It was a large brown mole and he was probably lost. Moles were the only animals of whom the signs bayed little importance and they were the most proficient Diggers of them all and the rule said that one could have a mole next to him, but one could never be next to a mole and though a mole might ask one a question, one should never assume that they are expected to respond, not with what they can or cannot see for how would an animal with eyes ever compare what it cannot see with animal that has never seen before. Thus the moral right was to pitter patter away.

  But Theodore didn’t care too much.

  “It’s coming now” said The Mole.

  Theodore looked around but he couldn’t see anything. The other rabbits looked too and they took the words of The Mole like those of some ancient mystic and the sound of its voice rattled about like cellophane in a light breeze making all of the rabbits feel uneasy and unsettled as they peered over one another to their right, looking into the darkness and then, just as they were about to shrug off his wisdom, from out of nowhere came the thunderous horn and the rattling of the scores of carriages being dragged through the dark tunnel.

  “He was right” said one rabbit.

  “They’re always right” said another.

  “It’s magic.”

  “It’s mystical.”

  “They’re sorcerers. Blind sorcerers.”

  “Shhh, they can hear everything, even your thoughts.”

  “You’re idiots” said Theodore, stepping onto the train as it came to a stop and the doors opened.

  He thought about helping the blind mole get aboard but then, he really didn’t care all too much so he hopped onto a seat and stared out the window while hundreds of other rabbits piled upon one another, squeezing into every vacant spot.

  The train rattled as the door closed and then a siren sounded and the engines started and the train went returned from whence it came, moving slow at first and then racing down through the tunnels and towards the digging zones near the centre of the moon and as the train sped along, the carriage full of rabbits exploded with converse and shouting and expletive cursing and then as if someone had just flicked a switch, it became a carriage of rampant sex as the rabbits; piled upon one another, engaged in their second favourite past time.

  Theodore though just stared out of the window and thought how strange this all seemed. Yet, he had not known anything more different to have ever made him feel this way so how strange it was then, to not know why it was that he felt that everything seemed so patently strange and this was what cursed him, what caused him to feel so different and mad because he had no words at all, nothing had been taught to him to express that the life that he knew and that the role he was born to play, the purpose he would fulfill and the life unto which he drudge his way through was, in some unspeakable sense, absolutely and entirely wrong.

  But he had no words.

  He had not been educated to think this way and to speak only of what he thought and so this feeling of which burned inside of him, it burned and nothing more. The pain never ceased and its calling never lessened. And though all he needed and all that he wished was to have the way or the meaning or the words to simply say just how he felt, with what he had, which was nothing at all, all he could do was to say “I fell a little bit strange” and for that, for having a feeling with no name, a meaning with no words, he was undeniably mad.

  The train arrived at the station deep in the tunnels after some arduous time alone with his thoughts and in that time he had cursed himself a thousand times over and thousand times more and he had listened and fended the mockery and taunting jeers of his commonly peers, cackling like drunken witches in his mind; the type of laughter that wouldn’t just get under your skin, if left unattended, it would peel it right off.

  And in the time it took for his thoughts to turn on him, his companions, his fellow rabbit commuters had copulated some scores and tens of scores of times and they all hopped off of the train with some obvious perk and spring in their step and none of them looked tired, not for an inch of the sex they had just consumed.

  The rabbits all poured down into the caverns and took to their obligation, savouring nothing more than digging their dirty little paws into the moon rock and burrowing away as they did, throughout each and every day. Theodore plodded along slowly feeling as if the spring he was told he should have, were rusted so that when he moved his little paws and his little legs, he was pained up along his back and in his mind and it felt like the feeling was burrowing its way inside his mind and he wondered if there were an animal or a sentiment like he, inside his mind right now, with its duty to burrow until it had found some appeasing light and he wondered if that sentiment felt as heavy as he felt now and maybe that was why he felt so heavy, for he was labored by a sentiment that was feeling sad, for it too had a sentiment of its own that had grown tired and strange to its purpose.

  The siren sounded.

  The rabbits all started their burrowing and they all sang out loud in contented harmony as their little paws and tiny claws scraped at the rock and dug into the dirt and shifted piles of grey moon sand behind them.

  “Hey you.”

  It was Florence, Theodore’s girlfriend.

  “Do you want to burrow with me today?”

  There was a perfect response, the perfect word he was looking for that would best represent the aversive feeling in his stomach. What was it?

  “Sure” he said.

  That wasn’t it.

  “Theodore I’ve been thinking. You know, maybe it’s time we looked at maybe moving in together. You know, we’re not getting any younger and, you know…”

  And she said ‘you know’ like she was attaching some whimsy towards every ideal just so she could back her way out of it, should in the light of its saying, it be wrong or not agreeable.

  Theodore hated it.

  “So anyway, were going to Irene and Steven’s engagement on Friday and I thought, you know, maybe we could have some news for ourselves because I really want to have something to tell everyone and you know, nothing really much has happened and I love Irene, she’s like my sister but I really want some attention for myself, you know? Theodore?”

  “What are we doing?” he asked.

  “Burrowing” she said.

  “No, us” he said.

  “We’re burrowing” she said.

  “Are you happy?”

  “Of course hunny bunny. Aren’t you?”

  Theodore paused for a moment. He saw his entire life, scratched into the face of a grey moon rock and he could see, etched in the sand, the footprints of the rabbit he pretended to love and the friends he pretended to admire, having all been partied about him throughout the entirety of this farce, cheering him along.

  “I am, yes.”

  There it was. Those contrary words, the complete irregular meaning to the opposition he felt in his stomach and what was it that made him this way? What made him so horribly, polite?

  “Oh, I forgot to tell you, I was having sex with these guys earlier this morning and they were telling me about this great band we have to check out, you’re gonna love i
t. Apparently they’re really good. You guys could maybe try to introduce yourself you know and try to get a gig with them; it’d be great for you. They have like, the new sound, you know, like apparently it’s the next thing. We should really go. Ok, we’ll go. I’ll call Irene and Steven and we’ll get Greg and Tracy too and Yvette and Jonathon and oohh, what’s that guy’s name? You know the one? He has that like limp kind of when he hops, you know.”

  He could of known and maybe he did but he went somewhere else in his mind when she said that they, for the last ten years, had been burrowing and what a thing he thought, to be digging away at oneself, looking for nothing in particular.

  Florence kept talking. She couldn’t stop. Her little bunny mouth moved up and down like talking mouths did but it didn’t at all sound like she was speaking. It sounded like a truck reversing and that’s how every word sang to him, like a warning, telling him to keep his distance and be careful when overtaking.

  “No” he said.

  “And it was so big I just couldn’t believe myself I mean, you won’t believe me if I tell you and really you had to be there to understand what I’m talking about, words really don’t suffice but I’m gonna tell you anyway cause I mean, you know, you’re never gonna get an opportunity like this ever again, not for this type of thing and….”

  “No” he said.

  “I didn’t ask you anything silly billy.”

  “No.”

  “No what?”

  “No to this, no to that. No to what you didn’t ask me. No to what you will. No to what you haven’t said and no to what you’ll never say. No, no, no. Just no.”

  “Am I missing something Theodore?

  “Yes, yes you are. You’re missing so much.”

  “You’re scaring me Theodore, are you ok? You look…… sad” she said.

  “No.”

  “No what Theodore.”

  “No, I’m not happy but I’m not sad either, I’m just…. blahh”

  “Do you want me to hug you?”

  “Not particularly no.”

  “Do you want to have sex?”

  “I’m bored with sex, of doing it all the time, it’s just become…. blahh”

  “But it’s what we do.”

  “And I’m tired of all of that too.”

  “Do you want me to call someone. You should speak to The Guru.”

  “I did.”

  “Oh did he show you that picture of the sad bunny, you know, the really pretty one and she had like a tattoo or ink or something on her arm and her face and it said ‘I feel ugly’ and ‘I’m not good enough’ and there was more stuff as well but I can’t’ remember what it said but it was so effective. I saw that and just went wow, like it was so moving and deep, because it’s not just untalented people who feel like they don’t have talent because there’s other rabbits too, like really pretty ones you know? I felt so good about myself. Whoever made that picture should get a reward or something it was just like so moving.”

  “Yeah I think I’m not gonna do it anymore.”

  “What are you on about?”

  “Everything. The self-help, the exercises, the dieting, the book club, the yoga.”

  “The yoga? You want to stop yoga? But how will you attain corporal and spiritual balance? I mean, you can’t just stop you know?”

  “I think I will. I think today was my last day. Yeah, I’m gonna stop.”

  “Theodore you sound crazy, I mean this is how a crazy rabbit would sound, you know?”

  “I think I need something different.”

  “But what? Everything that there is, is everything that we do. What else could there be?”

  “I guess I wanna find something, anything.”

  “Did you do the mirror exercises? Oh they always cheer me up when I remind myself how unique and special I am.”

  “You see, that’s the thing. If everyone is so unique and special then it goes to say that being unique and special is something common and if that’s the case then you’re just back to being ordinary again.”

  “You really are sad.”

  “I’m not sad. I told you. I feel empty, deflated, like my body is too big and deformed for my soul, if I even have one.”

  “Now that’s crazy talk hunny bunny. You just need to see The Guru. Trust me, self-help cures all ailments, even the ones in your mind, you know. It’s like food for the soul.”

  “My soul is starving.”

  “Well then, have a slice of Zen pie.”

  “It doesn’t work.”

  “Of course it does, it’s soul food.”

  “Self-help and those stupid proverbs, they do nothing. Soul food? It’s like trying to cure starvation with a sugar cube. It might taste sweet on the lips but once it dissolves, the emptiness is still there.”

  “I don’t know what to say.”

  “Nothing will suffice.”

  “We should start burrowing. If we don’t get some distance done we won’t get our rewards. Where should we start? I think tunnel 186B will be great. What do you think?”

  “They’re all the same. They all go in the same direction. Does it matter?”

  “Breathe Theodore. Just stop hopping, for one second.”

  Florence gripped his fluffy fur and dug her little claws into the grey soil, keeping him from hopping away.

  “Breathe.”

  “Why does everyone keep saying that?”

  “Just breathe Theodore, breathe in the air.”

  Theodore stopped his rant. Maybe he was crazy. Maybe this was just some virus. The two hopped together down through a series of tunnels heading towards 186B but when they neared the right door and as they passed a small group of beggars, Theodore had a change in his heart and change in his direction.

  They stopped by a young rabbit who was mangy in his appearance, his fur all tattered and knotted, not of any specific breed at all, just a blemish in their direction.

  “Please sir. I’m ever so hungry. Just one penny would do” the young rabbit said.

  Theodore put his hands in his pockets and though they jingled the tune of a rich rabbit, he held the coins in his grasp and shook his shoulders and his instinct said “No, I don’t have anything, maybe next time kid.”

  And they hopped along.

  Florence opened the door to usher her boyfriend through but Theodore just looked at her as if he couldn’t understand a single word she were saying.

  He turned and went through the door beside him, to the left.

  “Theodore” she screamed. “We only burrow on the right. Theodore what are you doing? Theodore, are you mad?”

  The door closed behind him and he found himself somewhere he had never imagined being.

  ON THE RUN

  “Run, quickly, there’s little time” said The Badger.

  “Who are you, where are we running to?”

  “Not we, but you. Quick, you might be late.”

  “For what?”

  “There’s no time to say. Not here, but you should run. Look, you’re getting ahead of yourself and you’ve not even tied your laces.”

  Ahead of him, a small rabbit ran.

  Theodore hopped away, digging his claws deep into the sand and leaping long into every stride, chasing the every step of the animal before him, trying in vain to keep up. The tunnel was brightly lit, so bright it was blinding and he could only see the small animal he was chasing as a motion blur through the haze of kicking dust as both animals wound down and along the tunnel, hopping and skipping over stones and dodging and weaving around the sharp sticks and buzzing red lights that stuck out of the ceiling and Theodore could hear the sounds of laughter encasing him and it sounded like some great machine, machined by some great dictator were hot on his tail, pounding upon his every last step and he bound and he bound while the lights above and around, they spun and they turned and they cycled around and around and all he could see was a bright flashing blur of blinding bright whites and cautioning yellows and flashing reds and sirens and bellows an
d old men’s laughter and the sound of his own heart beating so fast that it might just skip out from his chest and what then if it did and he raced and he roared and above him, the sound of engines and rotors soared and about him, the sound of footsteps and screaming and shouting and sirens were sounding and he raced forwards, his sight grazed by the millions of thousands of billions of tiny dust particles kicked up by the animal leading him through the blinding light, away from whatever was scented to their flight.

  “Live for today, gone tomorrow, that’s me, hahahahaha.”

  “What? Who are you? What do you mean?” shouted Theodore, his voice breaking as his lungs fought to build enough air to shape the words.

  The footsteps were all around him now. Marching feet. Late and delayed marching feet. Desperately moving, stampeding, marching feet; all about him, coming from great heights and slapping at the ground by his tail, scraping against the wall by his side and hammering down on the grey dusted ground that danced and moldered by his straining red eyes.

  “Please, slow down. Wait for me” he shouted.

  “Live for today, gone tomorrow, that’s me, hahahahaha.”

  “Wait. I’m coming. Please wait for me. Please” he shouted.

  “Live for today.”

  “Don’t leave me behind” he shouted.

  “Gone tomorrow.”

  “Please” he shouted.

  “Hahahahahah.”

  “Stop” he shouted.

  “Live for today.”

  “I can’t breathe” he shouted.

  “Gone tomorrow, that’s me, hahahahaha.”

  “I can’t breathe” he shouted.

  The small animal didn’t stop though, it just kept winding and dodging its way through and along the blinding white tunnel and Theodore had no shout at all left in his voice. He ran as fast as he could, but he couldn’t keep up.

  “Stop” he yelled.

  “Live for today, gone tomorrow, that’s me, hahahahaha.”

  Theodore ran.