THE NEW MOON
(Part 2)
The moon was full that evening and the crocodile casually made for the town. He slithered quietly across the river, his ridged back glistening against the water. On the shore, a merry thumping was felt on his belly. From where he was, one could hear faintly the sounds of festivities. And the crocodile felt much welcomed.
In town, the people gathered drinking fermented liquids and eating grilled pork. Roasting on the spit was a goat, its innards already boiling in a large pot next to it. Farmers’ guitars gleamed, mimicking the pale orange of the piles of squash that were heaped in mounds on front yards.
And over to the left was the town hall with a sign that said MOON HARVEST. Little children wandered about in groups of four or five, hiding behind trees and piles of vegetables. A few of them passed the crocodile but neither party noticed the other.
The crocodile was determined to reach the gathering. He passed a lone cow tethered to a tree and ignored it. He saw a gang of thieves, too, inspecting their booty, but the crocodile merely went on his way. The town seniors, mostly on front porches smoking their tobacco rolls at this time, retreated to their beds to rest. But the oldest and wisest remained awake, troubled by a vague foreboding in their aching joints.
All of a sudden, screams and shots radiated from the center of town. The crocodile had lunged at Elena, a terrifically beautiful lady in her thirties. This woman, had neither child nor spouse—and although nobody took it seriously, rumor had it that she had initiated a young lad into manhood. The sage crocodile, who knew this to be true, and was aware of Elena’s nightly exploits around town, could not restrain himself at the sight of the woman.
Indeed, it was terribly satisfying for the crocodile to bring down his powerful jaws on her plump and youthful boy. The woman smelled like cacao, her skin rich and dark as the secrets of the moon. In these few moments, the crocodile tasted each and every one of her passions, which lingered quietly, although persistently. He tasted emptiness and fruitless longing, and exhaustion. He tasted bitter love in the river, and an urgent desire to drown in it.
Meanwhile, the people had recovered from the shock. Men and women, armed with machetes and kitchen knives, frying pans and wood axes, collectively decided that they would chase the beast away.
Elena was, to many a wife, a dear ally. To them, she was heroine to their most romantic daydreams, chastely defying all constraints of domestic attachment. And to the men, well, she was Elena. The fish that got away.
Little boys, too, wanted in on the action. They threw stones at the crocodile and broke branches off shrubbery and trees and tailed their indignant parents. The two men who minded the pot of soup shouted a warning for the angry crowd to stand back, then tipped the boiling cauldron towards the lofty creature. The crocodile, who fully savored his meal, was up until now oblivious to the crowd that was presently upon him. The mighty animal thrashed and snapped blindly, his resolve to fight considerably weakened by Elena’s weariness with life.
He clumsily made his way out of the settlement, the crowd close behind him. By the river, a pair of quarrelling lovers was interrupted by the arrival of an outraged mob. The crocodile, whose side was scalded, found little reason to confront his pursuers. He could barely hide in the shadows, as the night was completely illuminated. The feared beast, once smiting man with terror, had become a common bandit. He slipped into the water, all at once afraid and yet comforted by the lulling quiet that cradled him. The crocodile swam on upstream, against the muddy course of the river, westward to where the bright young moon was setting.
From then onwards, the threat of the powerful crocodile disappeared from the lives of man. But they would remember that for many nights after, a part of the moon diminished into the sky until the town was mantled by darkness. Among those who beckoned to it every night, the moon would never be the same.
And it became known that when a patch of sky seemed shrouded by darkness, a grand creature had wandered that way.
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
FREEDA KO QUEJADA was raised in Davao City, and is now currently based in Germany. Her works have been published in Davao Harvest 2, and The Best of Dagmay 2. The New Moon first appeared in the Road Map Series’ Preludes and Presences, Freeda’s collection of stories and poems.