Xan and the Moon

I wrote this story for my nieces and nephews.

A queer children’s short story

Xan and the Moon

Dastardly dragons, tall towers, poised princesses, hexed horticulture – fairy tales are fine and well, but they aren’t every child’s cup of tea. Some children, children like Xan, dream about real–life treasures. Treasures you can really touch, really smell, or even really lick – if you wanted to.

Xan, a nine-year old boy from Berlin, had his eyes on a real piece of loot: a giant golden coin worth one million pounds. It had the queen of England’s face on it and sat in the Bode Museum.

People told Xan he could never steal it, but then again they had also told him he was a girl – and he had proven them wrong about that.

Xan had many talents: among the most useful for this story are his lockpicking, his juggling and his lasso agility. If there was one thing that was utterly egal to Xan, it was the disbelief of others. “But you are just a little boy!” they would say, mouth agape and flabbergasted. “How would you carry such a heavy coin?”

Xan absolutely - 100 percent - would have stolen the coin on his own, were it not for the four robbers who beat him to it. That’s why, as the unnamed band of robbers basked in the golden light of their loot (somewhere in a hideout, Xan assumed), he set his sights higher: He would steal… the MOON!!!

Thrilled with the idea, Xan prepared his things and waited for night to fall. Once the moon shone bright, and his parents were fast asleep, Xan climbed to the red rooftop of his Berlin house. He unpacked his tools. He unraveled his lasso and polished his glittering juggling balls.

He threw his juggling balls up to the moon. Xan knew the moon had a weak spot for sparkly things – this was why she was so happy amongst stars. “Heavens me, helloooo!” the moon winked to the balls and the juggling balls winked back. The moon winked and winked and winked, she giggled and winked and winked.

When the moon was very busy winking, Xan threw his lasso into the heavens. With one strong pull he had the moon just meters above his nose.

It was bigger than he expected. Inconveniently big.

“Hello, “ Xan said. “Is there any way to make you smaller?”

“Heavens, NO!” the moon said.

Xan tethered the moon to the roof. “I’ll be back tomorrow to visit you after school,” he assured it and went to sleep.

The next day in school Xan was very tired. He fell asleep in math class and his teacher Frau Lehrerin got angry!

“Entschuldigung Xan, was soll das?“

„I had a long night,“ Xan said, “I stole the moon.”

The very bored class became very alert.

“I thought you wanted to steal a gold coin?” she leered.

“Someone beat me to it.”

“Hmmmpf,” she muttered. “But Xan, I saw the moon last night.”

“You won’t tonight, “ Xan yawned, “Unless you live in Kreuzberg.”

Back in Kreuzberg, neighbors had certainly taken notice of the moon.

Xan’s doorbell didn’t stop ringing. Neighbor after neighbor came and shouted their complaints into the intercom.

“How am I supposed to sleep with THAT looming above my house!” Herr Zorn demanded.

Frau Grantig was fuming: “Tell that daughter of yours –“

“Son-“ his mother objected.

“ - tell that kid the moon belongs in the SKY and not tethered to a verdammten roof!”

As she left , Frau Grantig could be heard cursing all the way across the street. The night was awfully bright. It was as if a spotlight were shining on all of Kreuzberg. Sleepless sleepers took moonlit walks through Görlitzer Park. The park was brighter than on any day.

Xan was having a hard time sleeping, too. Not because of the light. Because he was worried.

He went up to the roof and asked the moon: “Do you mind turning down your shining? People are restless and mad at me.”

“Heavens, NO!” said the moon.

While Kreuzberg had more of the moon than it needed, other neighborhoods had a serious lack of it - and residents were becoming quite melancholy.

A poet in Wilmersdorf lamented: without a moon in the sky, who do I have to serenade?

A child in Zehlendorf wept: who shall I share my secrets with before falling asleep?

A clubber in Friedrichshain cried: Where have you gone moon!? Wheeere?!

Xan’s family went to the Lieptnitzsee for a glittering turquoise swim. Xan took the moon with them, tethered to the roof of the car. The moon pushed aside the clouds in its path and cast a black shadow over the Autobahn.

“What is THAT!” swimmers cried when they saw the moon approaching. Some swimmers were naked, some were old, some were children, but all of them were surprised.

Xan tethered the moon to a tree: “Could you try to not block the sun too much? I’d like to have a nice time swimming.”

“Heavens, NO!” the moon said.

The lake wasn’t much fun without sunlight. The water was very cold and the swimmers were disturbed. 

Xan came back home in low spirits. Nobody was enjoying having the moon so close to them. Actually, it was making life harder. Xan had wanted to prove to others that he could do it – that he could do anything – but people were more impressed by the moon’s inconvenience than by his unworldly feat.

He felt a wash of emotions sweep over him. He bit his lower lip and held back his tears. He knew what to do.

He ran to the moon, which was still tethered to the car. “If I let you go, will you return to your home?”

“Heavens, YES!” the moon twinkled. Xan untied the lasso and watched the moon soar away into the blue sky. When night fell he looked out his window and felt a great relief to see it in the sky, twinkling a goldilocks amount – not to faint and not too bright. Just right.

Xan decided he didn’t have anything more to prove to others. Some nights he would go out on his rooftop with his juggling balls and send them into the heavens to wink at the moon. He was sure the moon winked back too; he hoped there were no hard feelings. He juggled for the moon and for himself, and left his lasso in his room below.