The Strangest of Nights

Charles Mooncalf emerged from his cabin at nine in the evening on the dot, same as he did every evening, ready for his shift of walking the perimeter, and found himself lifting his hand to his eyes to shield them from a celestial brightness. Charles blinked twice and saw two moons sitting just above the line of evergreens that surrounded his tiny cabin. He was fairly certain that there had never been two moons before. 

His natural instinct was to try to get rid of the second moon (though he wasn’t sure he would be able to say which was the original moon and which was the newcomer). He tried rubbing his eyes, taking his glasses on and off, going in and out of his cabin. He even walked a few loops around the cabin, hoping for some kind of cosmic reset. After a few minutes of this, he made the rather violent choice to slap himself across his cheek, at first gently and then gradually harder and harder until he grew dizzy and nearly collapsed. Nothing worked. The moons remained in their twin form. 

He pulled out his pocket watch, whose silver casing appeared electrified in the doubled moonlight, and an unpleasant dose of bile shot to the back of his throat. It was already nine minutes past the hour. 

The new moon would have to wait, he thought, and he started to make the twenty minute walk to the watchpers station at the North Gate. He was annoyed at himself, and, if he was honest, at the new moon. He always left thirty minutes before the start of his shift just in case. But this was never needed. Nothing had ever happened to make him late. In fact, Charles felt like nothing had ever happened to him at all, until now. 

The wind tickled his ears as he made his way through the woods. He was running as fast as he could. He had forgotten his torch but thankfully, he noted begrudgingly, it didn’t matter. Even through the dense trees the two moons shone in a near sunlight capacity, and Charles could see the trail to the station stretching out quite clearly in front of him. 

After what felt like running a full marathon, Charles burst through the door of the station in a frenzy of heaving breaths. He found himself in an empty station. The shift change always happened right at 25 past the hour, and the station should have been in a state of quiet commotion, guards coming and going, ending or starting their shifts, but not talking, as per the Policy. There was only the foreman, who was staring at him, eyes narrowed, from his desk in the corner. 

“Mr. Mooncalf. You’re early. We’ve discussed this before. You will not be paid until the start of your shift.”

“Early?” Charles muttered to himself as he pulled out his pocket watch. This can’t be right, he thought. Only two minutes had passed since leaving his cabin. He looked at the clock above the foreman’s desk to confirm–indeed, it was only 11 past the hour.

“Sorry, sir. Of course. I understand the Policy.”

“Good. Please wait in your designated seat, Mr. Mooncalf.”

“Yes, sir. Thanks. Thank you, sir.”

Charles sat down on the small wooden stool assigned to him. He looked at his name scribbled on the ground, which had started to wear away. 

Mo nca f

He hated his name. He had, ever since he was a child, been only Mr. Mooncalf. His teachers had called him that and the other children, none of which he could call his friends, latched onto the name. An innocent party might be quick to find the good in that–maybe it was simply his quiet nature or his studiousness, maybe the other children and even his teachers felt a sort of respect for him that could only be fitting of Mr. Mooncalf. But Charles knew better. For reasons he couldn’t explain, to be the child of the moon was a scorn that he couldn’t rid himself of. 

And now there were two moons. Charles thought it must be some sort of strange cosmic joke being played on him. Surely everyone would see it and think of him, blame him. 

But why wasn’t anyone else reacting to the moon? To be fair, he had so far only seen the foreman. Shouldn’t there be some kind of furor, uproar, a Council meeting? Would the foreman say something? Maybe he didn’t know? It had only been a few minutes since he had noticed it himself. 

Charles considered whether to tell the foreman and pulled out the Policy, which every watchpers was required to carry on them at all times. He flipped to Policy 3.4.2, Emergent Situations. 

In the unlikely event of an emergent situation, this should be reported to the foreman on duty immediately. A watchpers not properly reporting an emergent situation risks the safety of the Collective and can expect swift punishment. Please also refer to Policy 1.4 “Unallowable Observations”.

Charles walked towards the foreman’s desk, accidentally kicking another watchpers’ stool on his way. 

“Mr. Mooncalf, I thought we had settled the matter of your start time.”

“Yes, sir. We have. This is another matter. I uh–” Something moved across the man’s face that discomforted Charles. 

“What, Mr. Mooncalf? For the Collective’s sake, what is it?”

“Sir, I, uh, I’d like to report an emergent situation.” 

The foreman sighed. “An emergent situation?” He suddenly seemed very bored, looking back to his files. 

“Yes, sir. There are…Well, the thing is…when I came out of my cabin earlier I saw, I saw two moons, sir.”

Though the foreman continued to stare at his files, Charles saw the man’s neck go taut, and his left hand, which held the paper, creased the corner ever so slightly before smoothing it back. 

“Two moons, Mr. Mooncalf?” 

“Yes, sir.”

“Mr. Mooncalf are you currently under the influence of recreationals?” The foreman finally looked up at him. 

“No, sir. Of course not. That is a violation of Policy 1.2.4.”

“I know the policy, Mr. Mooncalf! But how else am I to understand one of my watchpers telling me he saw two moons in the sky?”

“I could show you, sir.”

“You want me to leave my post to come outside and look at the moon with you, Mr. Mooncalf? Not only is it a policy violation to do so, it is also an utter waste of my time.”

“But sir, I also experienced some sort of time–”

The sound of the station door slamming interrupted them. Charles found that they had an audience. A quiet, sneering audience. He wasn’t sure how long they had been there or how much they had heard. He hoped that one of them might speak up to confirm what he had said, but they all looked at him with varying degrees of shock, disgust, and bemusement. Except for Alexi. Alexi, his shift partner, looked sad.

“Mr. Mooncalf, I am considering reporting you to the medic tent for a full psych evaluation right now.”

“I’m sorry, sir. Forgive me. That won’t be necessary. I’m, um, I’m not sure what’s come over me. Perhaps I need to report to the optometrist to have my prescription checked,” he said, pulling off his glasses to prove his point. 

The foreman looked at him like he’d just watched a bear eat a baby, and Charles took that as his cue to leave. Charles returned to his stool to grab his things and made his way to the door but not before he felt something hit his shin. He tumbled forward slamming face first into the rough wood floor. He rolled over, touching his nose instinctively to check if it was broken and saw Hero standing above him with a wide, menacing grin. Hero’s long, dark hair hung loosely around his face (which was a policy violation, Charles noted) in the shape of a dark halo. 

“Mr. Mooncalf, you’re such a mooncalf,” Hero whispered, leaning down towards Charles so that Hero was only a few inches from his face. Alexi stepped between them, pulling Charles up and shoving him out the door. 

“Hey, take it easy.”

“Shh! Wait until we get to our post.”

Charles tried to catch Alexi’s eye but couldn’t. He was staring down at the ground while pushing Charles along, holding firmly onto his arm. Their big, heavy boots crashed through the long, glowing, blue grass that surrounded the station. No matter how many times Charles saw it, it was always a marvel. The rumor was that it was outfitted with a technology that could detect unapproved persons, but Charles had only ever seen it like this. 

The blue light of the grass was doubly brilliant and he looked up to find the second moon still there, bright as it was before. Charles thought then that he saw one of the moons move, like it had turned around. It reminded Charles of a dog repositioning itself in sleep before curling up again. Charles shook his head slightly, untrusting of his eyes again. When he looked back, the two were unintelligibly different from the other. 

Alexi continued his quick march to their post near the North Gate. He hadn’t let go of Charles’ arm, but his grip had loosened and Charles felt the warmth of the other man’s hand through his jacket. Finally they arrived at their post and were, as far as they knew, alone. 

“You have to be careful,” Alexi said quietly. 

“What do you mean? Did you hear all that?”

“Yes, we all heard everything,” Alexi said, looking away. “Why would you tell him that?”

“Because it’s true! There are two moons in the sky. You don’t see them?” Charles was desperate for Alexi to say yes, but he shook his head. 

“I don’t understand…There’s so much light, I can barely stand to keep my eyes open.”

“Charlie, you can’t tell the foreman you saw two moons.”

Charles stared at Alexi, who was looking away again through the tall, clear fence next to them and into the beyond. Charles realized that he could see farther than he usually could. In the distance, Charles saw something move, a large shape. As far as he knew there were no large animals around the perimeter of the fence. The Council had seen the end to that. 

“Shit, what is that,” he whispered, tapping Alexi’s arm with the back of his hand.

“What is what?”

“THAT,” he said pointing to the large shape which seemed to be getting closer. “There’s something out there, you can’t see that?”

“I just see darkness,” Alexi said. Charles looked at him again and could see that, although his voice was calm, he was sweating. In the strong moonlight, Charles could see the tiny hairs standing up on the back of Alexi’s neck. 

“You can sense it, can’t you?”

“Sense what?! I don’t see anything. Charlie, you’re freaking me out. First the moons and now this. What’s going on?”

“You really can’t see anything? Or the second moon?”

“No, I can’t, and I wish you would stop saying that. You’re going to get yourself in trouble.”

Charlie looked back towards where he had spotted the shape but it was gone. Charlie hoped it had just been a figment of his imagination, but part of Charlie also felt wildly open. His eyes, his ears, his mind, his heart. He felt the moonlight pulse through him. He felt that same rush he did when he was walking (flying?) through the woods.  

“I can’t explain it, but I feel like this isn’t a bad kind of trouble.”

“How can it not be, Charlie? You know how people treat you, you know how they see you. You can’t be saying these things. You heard the foreman, he was ready to send you to psych. If he did that…If he did that…”

“I know.”

“I’m not sure you do.”

Alexi took a step closer and held out his hands for Charles to grab and then they both leaned forward, allowing their foreheads to touch. This was how they had started every shift for the last 300 days, 30 days after their first ever shift together. 

This was also a policy violation. 

After a few seconds of this, never long enough for Charles, they were to begin their shift of monitoring the North Gate. They were each responsible for 500 yards in the opposite direction of the Gate. The council paired watchpers in this way because they found that it was the most efficient use of resources while also providing watchpers a sense of camaraderie. In other words, it helped keep the watchpers from either succumbing to the fear of the darkness or dying of boredom and the Council didn’t have to worry about “attrition”. 

Reluctantly, wanting to probe Alexi more about what he could or could not see, and unsure why Alexi was so concerned, Charles pulled away and they began their marches. 

Immediately, Charles felt the moonlight intensify on his back. He felt the air around him swell. Every blade of grass, every gust of wind, every fly buzzing in his ear, every mouse scurrying away from his steps were all revealed to him as though he experienced each individual event both separately and simultaneously, as though he could predict it, as though he was prepared for it, as though had lived it a million times over. 

It was then that he saw the shape again. It was closer this time.

The shape drew closer and closer, walking unhurried and intently until it came into view. Charles realized that the shape had somehow been purposefully disguising itself and was only now letting Charles see it for what it truly was. 

“Who are you?” Charles whispered even though he knew it was still too far to hear him. 

Suddenly, it vanished. Or, not vanished, Charles’ eyes were struggling to translate the message for his brain. It had shrunk down into the shape of some kind of animal. Charles craned his neck to see. 

A fox. 

Charles wasn’t sure what the fox had planned as there was no way through the fence, which, Charles thought, was electrified. As the fox came closer, Charles watched it disappear into a hole in the ground. A tunnel. How was this possible? The “Critical Collective History” section of the Policy claimed the fence was buried 20 feet deep, impossible to dig under, even if it weren’t electrified. 

Charles began frantically looking around for where the tunnel might exit to but couldn’t find it. Part of him feared he would never see the fox again, that it had gotten lost or stuck underground, or electrocuted, or that maybe he had imagined it all, just like everything else so far that evening. 

“Charles.”

The sound was loud inside his head, as though it had been spoken to his brain and not his ears. He whipped around and found himself staring at a young woman. She was dressed all in red. If she was not a Councilpers, this was a policy violation. Charles thought that she was glowing but then realized it was the grass around her which had shifted colors and now matched her clothes. 

“You don’t remember me?” the woman said. “You returned something to me some years ago.” She held up a small ivory ball–a pearl. 

He did remember her–he remembered the red she wore then, those eyes that pierced him, the mouth that grew to a grin that stretched somewhat maniacally from ear to ear. 

“I recognize that pearl. I helped you retrieve it out of a drain.”

“Yes, you did. Do you remember what I told you after you gave it back to me?”

He thought back to that night when he saw her crouched on the ground above the drain. He was a trainee and her presence had frightened him, though he wasn’t exactly sure why. Now he had a better idea. 

“You told me that you would help me, that I was lucky to have helped someone like you.”

“That’s right. But what I didn’t realize then is that I still need you.”

“What do you mean?”

“I don’t have time to explain it all now, but I know you see that,” she pointed to the moon.

“You can see it, too? How? Can no one else?”

“No, I’ve only allowed you to see it.”

From the distance, a cry pierced through the bubble of their conversation. Alexi. What else would this night bring? What more unwanted, unapproved, unallowable things were in store for him? He had felt brave up until this moment. 

“I have to get to Alexi,” Charles said as he started to turn away and run towards the sound of the cry. A strong arm held him back. 

“Charles–”

“Let me go. I have to make sure he’s ok.”

“If you’ve heard his cry then that means the Council already has him. It’s too late.”

“Why would the Council have him–what does that mean? Who are you?”

“My name is Kadzuki.” As she said Kadzuki he felt a surge of energy inside him. Again it felt like her voice was in his head. “I am the moon, the fox, the bringer of trouble. Do you know who you are?” 

“I’m no–”

“You are Charles Mooncalf, the wrecker, the thief, the bringer of hope.”

He noticed that the moonlight was warm, an odd but comforting feeling in the chill of the night. 

“You are the one destined to destroy the Council and save the Collective.”

The Charles Mooncalf that he knew was the passive, the lonely, the waiter in the wings. He was not and had never been the things that Kadzuki said he was. But in the light of that strange night, the strangest of nights, as he thought about how he would get to Alexi, Charles hoped she knew him better than he knew himself.