Trinity Marson (II)
Hansel Gogo & Zellus
*Janet Jackson & Busta Rhymes’ What’s It Gonna Be on repeat*
Hansel tip-toed into the one-bedroom, cold space of Zellus’ apartment. He removed his shoes at the door. A common practice Zellus required of her guests and he was now a guest.
In the airy atmosphere of her home, he clinked and clanked around searching for the perfect space to change his clothing. Hanging from his arms were tattered rubbery rags of a shirt he had been wearing since his release. He held the moon’s weight in his front, right pocket.
His Pocket. The Moon. Its Weight.
The building shifted, tumbling an inch every hour. The ground beneath Zellus’ building was caving into itself, hiding from the sun. Particles of lost things from eons before their time shot up through the walls,
BIT
BY
BIT.
Hansel quieted his breathing as he searched for the most appropriate place to hide the moon. Would Zellus find it? Will her now boyfriend sift through his things?
“What in the name of Osiris are you doing here, Hansel? How did you get in? I had the pass-code to the door changed moonbeams ago.”
“Hello Zellus. I gotta situation. I am…”
“I don’t want to hear it, Hansel. With you, there’s always a situation. The way you came in, find your way out. I am not housing whatever nonsense you have brewing this time around. You wouldn’t happen to know anything about this whole stealing of the moon thing, now would you?”
“See, that’s the thing. I am out on good behavior, you know? The Crew on Black Torch Street and Swordhead Drive spoke up for me; some guy they paid to provide records needed for security, came through in the clutch.”
The Clutch.
“Like I said. Find your way out. I have a good life now and you coming in with whatever you have forming under your nose, I do not intend to smell.”
“But, this will…”
“Save it. Do I look like I care?”
Hansel held the moon out to Zellus, showing her the remarkable end to a world he once loved. She stood motionless, her eyes turning a different color, green in their fear. She moaned a helpless moan and said,
As I live and breathe,
I am certain to die.
The moon sat comfortably in the palm of Hansel’s grasp, turning on its side, forgetting its natural state.
