The Moon Spoke the Truth

The moon spoke the truth.

The truth set me free.

I heard its truth

As I drank my bubbly.

My moon viewing glasses,

Splashed with fine wine,

Saw you quite clearly,

Just that one time.

The wine loosed my tongue,

I delivered a grape crushed blow

You were “The man”,

And I failed to stroke your ego.

Don’t ‘member what I said

En vino veritas, I had sass.

You the king, the ruler,

Maybe I called you an ass.

You showed me the truth,

With the back of your hand.

A mark on your queen,

Darkness o’er the land.

But in marriage unspoken, 

The spell it did break.

And sober king once more, 

You climbed back on your throne.

And I, 

Your reluctant queen,

Soldiered on alone.

Through my subjects, they did ask.

Bout that mark on my face,

Makeup failed to mask.

And as emperor once more, 

You strutted about in fine clothes.

Happily ever after,

The story it goes.

But maybe, just maybe

With moonstruck vision,

At least I could see,

Your naked truth revealed.

Though it may be,

En lunas veritas.

En lunas veritas. The moon spoke the truth. Usually, it was just the wine that spoke the truth. This time the moon was also involved.  

My friend Marsha, a nurse, had warned me that an eclipse was trouble. She said not only did alcohol and drugs affect humans, but a full moon also caused crazy behavior. The ER always filled with patients whenever the moon was full, she claimed.

Eclipses only happened during a full moon phase when the moon and sun aligned on the same side of the Earth. That made it a hundred times worse than a normal full moon, she added with a shudder. She had already submitted her request for a day off on the upcoming eclipse day. She didn’t want to face a moon inspired frenzy that would bring hysterical people in droves into the ER. “No way in hell” were her exact words. 

At the time, I didn’t heed her warning. The eclipse was just another day. Albeit a day with an interesting natural phenomenon. A day to have an eclipse watching party.

I had received an invitation through Facebook to such a party. It was at our neighbors’ house, Gloria and Frank. Frank worked with my husband and was a managing partner in their private equity firm. My husband was always sucking up to him. He seemed to idolize Frank and wanted to be just like him. 

Jack had it in his head that Frank was grooming him to be a junior partner. Whether or not this was true, I wasn’t sure. I knew, however, that Jack was very excited to receive the invitation. We would both need to be at that party with our game faces on. Any opportunity to ingratiate ourselves with the bigwigs could not be passed up. 

Since the eclipse was on a Monday afternoon, it was an inauspicious time for a party. Normally, people were working while their kids were in school. However, being the managing party of his own firm came with its perks. Frank managed the schedule and mandated the office would be closed for the entire day. He scheduled the party to begin at 11:30. He wanted everyone to mix and mingle, drink in hand, well before the eclipse started.

The eclipse was scheduled to last only for a few minutes, so the plan was for the party to break up when the school day ended, as kids started getting off school buses. Our own children typically got home around 3:30. That seemed like a long enough party to me. Really just an extended lunch hour. I could handle that. 

Gloria and Frank weren’t my favorite people. They were ostentatious, social climbers. Very hoity toity, as my mother would say. They were the type of people who always wore designer clothing, belonged to elite country clubs, and drove BMWs or Mercedes. Their kids always excelled at everything too. Star athletes, straight A students, teachers’ pets, bullies. They ruled the roost and everyone knew it. 

My daughter Sara wavered between being jealous of their daughter Isabelle and trying desperately to worm her way into Isabelle’s inner circle. It was considered the highest honor to be invited to a sleepover at Isabelle’s house. Her sleepovers were legendary in the fifth grade. Sara had been angling for an invitation for weeks. I supposed, as any active, involved mother, I should be trying to get chummy with Isabelle’s parents to help my daughter’s case. I needed to rip a page out of my husband’s playbook and also be a suckup.  

With that in mind, I dressed carefully for the party, taking extra care with my makeup, hair, and jewelry. Luckily, it was a relatively mild day. With our coats on, we could walk over to the party. All the better in case there was drinking involved. We could always just stumble home.

Arriving at the party, I tried not to be overwhelmed by Gloria and Frank’s house. It gave the word McMansion a whole new meaning. Their chalet style home was three stories tall, with turreted wings spreading out from the home’s central polished stone facade. I learned they had an astonishing five bathrooms in their house and walk in closets throughout. The master bathroom had an infinity shower — the drain was not visible since drains were considered gauche. In addition to the luxurious shower, there was also a hot tub nearby large enough that the entire family could soak in it all at once.

Beside the house looking like something out of Home and Garden magazine, Gloria had also laid out a moon inspired spread of food and drink that was truly impressive. A polished, wood table boasted a cheese and black olive dip in the form of the moon covering the sun, star shaped bread cut outs for dipping, other star shaped cheeses and sausages, sun chips, black and white cookies mimicking the sun and moon, moon pies, a dark chocolate eclipse cake, various fruits sliced in round, moon shapes, blueberry “moon dip”, Oreo space cookies, and more. She had definitely nailed the celestial theme. 

There was also a self-serve bar with sun and moon inspired drinks – a bright blue punch in a fancy cut glass bowl (the punch was called the “blue moon” and was made with blue curacao), moon martinis, mimosas made with Sunny D and the usual champagne, and a drink simply called “Moonshine.”

I was afraid to ask what the moonshine was and where it came from. Like schoolboys just sampling their first taste of alcohol, the men were making a fuss over the moonshine. They slammed down their shots, banging their glasses down on the bar in triumph, coughing as they did so, eyes watering. None of the women took part in the shots, except for one brave lady who I didn’t know. She mixed the moonshine with Mountain Dew, after telling us how moonshiners first developed Mountain Dew to cut the taste of their rotgut moonshine. If it was good enough for the hillbilly moonshiners, it was good enough for her, she said.

Most of the ladies, myself included, poured themselves mimosas in tall champagne flutes. It was technically still morning, but mimosas were always acceptable. They were made of juice and often served at fancy breakfasts and brunches. That justified our day drinking. 

The men seemed to have no such inhibitions, declaring that it was “5:00 somewhere.” My husband had joined the men at the bar doing shots. Naturally, the more alcohol they consumed the louder their voices got. I winced as I heard my husband’s booming voice talking over everyone. Throughout it all, music blared from a hidden speaker, a curated list of moon inspired songs.

I’m being followed by a moon shadow. Moon shadow, moon shadow . . . 

Gloria appeared from the kitchen in a flowy outfit of sparkly, gauzy light blue material, some kind of long tunic top over palazzo pants. She looked like she belonged on the deck of a high end cruise ship. 

Clapping her hands together, she gave out marching orders.

“Ok everyone, It’s countdown time to the eclipse. Everyone get a pair of eclipse watching glasses and a blanket. There’s chairs set up outside by the fire pit. The fire’s already going. There’s also some mulled wine in the crock pot if you need something hot to drink since we’ll be outside. It’s red wine, of course, but I added some blue food coloring to it. I was going for the shade of the eclipse moon. So now it’s kind of purple,” her voice was rueful. “I guess it’s not very moony, not like the other cocktails. But I really like mulled wine and it’s still a little chilly out . . .”

So Gloria was less than perfect. One of her drinks failed the moon test. I smiled.

“That mulled wine sounds good,” I said magnanimously. “I think I’ll have some when I’m done with my mimosa. I love mulled wine.”

Gloria smiled, showing dazzling white teeth. 

I gulped down my mimosa, the fizzy champagne tickling my nose. I then filled a plate with moon food and headed over to the crockpot for a cup of the mulled wine.

“Don’t forget your glasses and your blanket,” Gloria trilled.

“I won’t,” I promised, wondering how I was supposed to carry everything. 

I perched the glasses in my hair and slung the blanket over my shoulders and headed outside with my goodies.

I made my way over to a chair, the kind of chair that had metal legs and a canvas back. You could carry it in a bag if you were going somewhere. I knew they weren’t the most comfortable chairs, but we wouldn’t be at the party long. My husband plopped down next to me in a similar chair. 

Suddenly, I heard a tremendous crash. I looked over and saw him sprawled on the ground, butt in the dirt and legs akimbo. His plate of food had spilled everywhere on the ground while bright blue punch stained his khakis in an awkward spot. The fabric of the chair had torn in two.

“Oh no!” I said. “You broke the chair. Don’t you know those kinds of chairs have a weight limit? You really should have picked a sturdier chair.” 

As soon as I said those words, I knew they were a mistake. Jack was getting quite heavy, and he was sensitive. Still, the words had somehow just slipped out of my mouth. Blame it on the wine.

Sure enough, Jack had turned red. His eyes shot daggers at me. 

“Thanks. Just what I wanted to hear.” 

“Here, let me give you a napkin. Your pants are wet.”

“Would you just stop?” He said impatiently. He pushed the chair to the side and grabbed another heavier chair. He also grabbed my blanket and pulled it across his lap, covering the stain.

“You good now?” I grunted.

“Yea, can you get me another drink?”

“Don’t you think you’ve had enough?” 

Nevertheless, I trudged back into the house, stopping at the punch bowl. I was tempted to pour him some Mountain Dew, but I figured he wouldn’t appreciate that. Everything seemed to tick him off lately, and I was always the misplaced target of his anger. I ladled him a glass of punch and headed back outside.

One of his buddies from the office was now seated next to him. They were in an animated discussion about corporate takeovers. Jack was expounding on his “stroke of genius” in consolidating a Fortune 500 company into fewer corporate divisions, saving the company loads of money.

“I asked their CFO, why do you need the tech division of the company split into hardware and software, operating out of two different locations? Why don’t you just merge the two branches and have them move together into one building?”

“How many poor slobs lost their job because of that decision?” His friend asked. “There’s no way these corporate mergers happen without someone getting the axe!”

“Only a few people. It was less than one hundred employees. They were probably nearing retirement anyways,” Jack smirked. “Now they can ride off into the sunset sooner.”

“Here’s your punch,” I interjected.

I felt like dumping it on him. A few people losing their jobs. No big deal. When had Jack turned into such a callous man? 

“It’s a dog eat dog world, anyways,” Jack continued. “Those people not tough enough to cut it aren’t meant to be in the business. If you’re a techy, you can practically write your own ticket. There are plenty of jobs everywhere. It’s all about networking.”

“Are the jobs in the same geographic area?” I interjected. 

I didn’t know if the men wanted me chiming in, but I couldn’t help but ask. They seemed to be toying with people’s lives.

“What difference does that make?” Jack sounded annoyed. “You gotta move where the money is.”

“Well maybe their families like where they live,” I said reasonably.

“You don’t know anything about business,” he said dismissively. “It’s ok. I didn’t marry you for your business acumen.”

I seethed inside. 

“Can I talk to you a minute?” I asked in a stern voice. “Privately?”

“Uh, oh. Someone’s in trouble . . . “ his friend said in a singsong voice.

Jack got up clumsily from his chair, wrapping the blanket around him like a sarong. We walked to the edge of the yard.

“I want to leave now,” I said. “I don’t much care for your friends or this party.”

“We can’t leave now. The party’s just getting started. Look up,” he said.

I didn’t have to look up to realize that it was already getting dark out. The moon had now slipped in front of the sun. 

“I can’t look up. I don’t have my glasses on. I left them back on my chair.”

“Oh, who cares?” He said. “I don’t really think you can hurt your eyes by looking at it. They just try to scare people.”

“I’m not taking that chance. Again, I want to leave. Now.” I said the last word forcefully.

“I’m not leaving,” he said. “And I don’t want you to either. It wouldn’t look good. Trouble in paradise, and all that.”

“I don’t care how it looks. Just tell them I have a headache. The moon is getting to me or something.”

“Come on!” He said in disgust. “I want to stay.”

“And I want to leave.” I blew out an exasperated sigh. “Why am I asking your permission? It’s not like you drove me here. I’m getting my purse and leaving.” 

I strode back to my chair and began gathering my belongings, leaving him no choice but to follow.

“At least, let’s say goodbye to the hosts. Present our excuses,” he pleaded.

“Fine,” I snapped.

We walked over to Gloria and Frank who were seated near their firepit, drinking mulled wine and looking relaxed. Masters of their domain, lords of all they surveyed. 

“I’m sorry but we’re going to have to leave,” Jack said in a defeated voice. “Cindy has a headache.”

“I’m sorry to hear that,” Gloria said in mock sympathy. “I’ve heard the moon affects some people like that. Atmospheric pressure and all that.”

I seized on that excuse.

“That must be it. I really have a pounding headache. Truly sorry.”

“Thank you for inviting us.” Jack said. “The party was amazing. At least for the brief time we were here.” 

He was trying to appear like Mr. Nice Guy, but I could tell he was ticked at me. It was going to be a long walk home.

“We’ll see you in the office tomorrow then,” Frank said. “Hope you feel better Cindy.”

“Bye.”

We walked out the door and down the sidewalk. The few blocks to our home seemed interminable. I couldn't wait to get away from Jack. I hoped he got the message that I wanted to be alone.

It was still early in the afternoon. The kids were still in school. Thank God. I was afraid they would pick up on the strained atmosphere between us.

We finally reached home. I unlocked the door. Jack followed, slamming the door so hard the walls shook.

We were just barely through the front door when he grabbed my arm, squeezing it hard.

“Ow,” I said. “Stop it. You’re hurting me.”

His eyes were now deep black stones, no warmth whatsoever in them.

“Don’t ever do that again," he raged. “Embarrass me in front of my friends and coworkers. . . .”

“Embarrass you?” I said incredulously. “What about you embarrassing me? You don’t know anything about business!” I mimicked.

“No, you don’t,” he said. “You need to keep your mouth shut next time. Don’t talk about things you know nothing about.”

“Or what?” I said. “What are you going to do?”

Suddenly, he lost it. If I thought he was mad before, it was nothing next to the raging inferno now lit inside of him.

“Don’t push me,” he said. 

“Don’t push you? Quit being such a baby!”

 I wasn’t normally a fighter, but somehow the pushing went both ways. He was pushing me into saying things too.

He took his hand off my arm, where his fingers had been painfully digging into me. He took that same hand and suddenly struck me hard on the cheek. My head reeled back. I stood mute. Had that really just happened? Had my husband just hit me? Stunned silence lay between us for a moment.

Jack finally spoke. 

“I told you not to push me. This time you went too far.”

“No, Jack. You did. Hope you enjoyed the eclipse.”

“You’re the moon, and I’m the sun. You don’t let me shine,” he said.

“Well then, I’ll just orbit somewhere else. There are plenty of other stars in the galaxy. It's all about networking.”