STEPHEN DIXON
405
on his feet and with just staring at the moon and the moon seeming to
stay in place and just about everything else around him seeming the same,
and heads for the house, thinks should I stay out a few more minutes, a
single minute, thirty seconds then to see if anything else comes into his
head. Do. Does. Minutes, looks at the moon. Sits on the chaise longue.
Nothing else comes. No other good thoughts, he means. And even more
tired now, so goes inside, pees, not because he has to but so he doesn't
have to get up later when he's much sleepier in bed, gets into bed, close
to his wife, she's on her side, he feels - can't see much of her because the
moon's on the other side of the house and doesn't give off much light on
this one, so he'd want that, moon to be on this side shining through the
window here, where he can see it and his wife on her side, his wife nude
with the covers off and on her side, the curves that look like lots of
things, hills, mountains, valleys, dunes, the moon and various phases of it,
where he can wake up his wife and make love with her to moonlight,
start to make love by moving his hands along the valleys and dunes and
then make full love, from behind, below, the side, atop, where the
moon's face can watch them so to speak, or rather take part in or con–
tribute to that lovemaking in several ways he'll say, just that they know
it's watching so to speak and they're doing it to its light. "Moon," he
says, softly so she can't hear, " come on to the other side of the house so
you can give us some light." Moon does. Suddenly it's there. There's no
way anyone can describe the moon the way it is now - a bauble, a ball, a
cheap ear pendant, a globe or lantern or round yellow squash or fruit,
none of those work, moon's just there, all the light he needs. He wakes
his wife by saying her name several times. She says, "What?" Did it also
by shaking her shoulder gently. He says, "A miracle." She says, "What?"
He says, "You asking what miracle or just what?" "What?" Back's to
him,
all
those curves. He glides his hand over them and gets his mouth up
to
her exposed ear and says, "I asked the moon to come to this side of the
house so I could see it and see you and your body and everything and it
did." "What moon? What side?" "The moon; there's only one; the
moon." "Where I mean? Why'd you wake me?" "To make love to you
to moonlight." "That's nice," she says, "and you know me, always
game," and moves her head around so they can kiss. Mter they do she
looks past his face and says, "I don't see any moon." "You don't?" He
turns
around - back's been to the window - and looks outside. He sees it,
right out there, framed by the window, just the moon in a totally cloud–
less dark sky, how can't she see? "You don't see what I see?" he says. "If
it's the moon you say you' re seeing, no I can't." "But it's there."
"Where?" "Oh well, I thought I had powers." " Let's go outside then if
you want to make love by moonlight," she says. "That is what you want
