Posted on: February 28th, 2010 Brats Of The Celestial Heavens

by Idan Cohen

The romance of the sun and moon, said my grandfather when once he fell to drink too deep, reached apotheosis upon a cold night of spring a thousand and five years ago. He continued; The romance of the moon and sun, he said (my grandfather, being drunk) began before the world was born and when it reached it’s final climax it was something to see.

Here my grandfather, being drunk, and a respectable scientist who had published many papers in Nature, looked up into the sky as though he could see before him the light explosion the bright orgasmic energy flush the dual creation. And he said; They had children, you know (the sun and moon), and then they split up. Broke it off. Kaput. How weird is that? he said. And; Damnit, I’ve finished the bottle.

On another occasion, when he was not drunk, my grandfather took me to the woods; and it does not really matter what woods they were, and however much I asked, my grandfather would not tell me where the woods had come from, since we lived on the coast. And in the woods we lay down, and I said; Didn’t you bring the tents? And he said; Shut up for a second, so I did. Then my grandfather looked to the sides, as though checking to see if anyone was eavesdropping. Then he looked up, and then up a little bit more. Look, kid, he said, can you keep a secret?

I nodded, sort of excited, sort of scared, confused a lot, a regular state at that age. So my grandfather looked up worriedly at the sky again, then motioned me closer to him. He whispered; d’ya know the story about the sun and moon I told you? About their children?

I nodded. He whispered; Well, guess what. The brats of the celestial heavens? That’s us. I blinked, and whispered back, not really knowing why we’re whispering; What, you mean like, people?

And he whispered, gaspingly, no! Not people; us. Me. Your mom. You. Your cousin Tom. And I didn’t know how to take this, so I stood staring at my grandfather from so close I could see the wrinkles in his nose, the pores of his skin. And he knelt staring at me. Look, he said, it’s important that you know.

A year later, my grandfather, who was a respectable scientist and a good family man, died of cancer. That sort of thing happened to grandfathers a lot. So I thought, maybe he went back to the sky. That’d be nice. It’s all a great metaphor, really.

But then, one day, the sky exploded and the stars collapsed and the sun and the moon settled their differences and got back together, you remember that day. And the whole family, well, we started getting Christmas cards made of stellar matter.

Filed under: bad-ass, stories

One Response to “Brats Of The Celestial Heavens”

  1. Jordan Says:
    February 28th, 2010 at 4:15 pm

    And it’s ALL YOUR FAULT, Flax!

  2. Jordan Says:
    February 28th, 2010 at 4:15 pm

    And it’s ALL YOUR FAULT, Flax!