She had eyes like Venus, though she were locked onto Mars. They say it's the brightest star in the sky if you look close enough. She was told if she looked at Mars long enough, she would see a blue boy who would play the cello for the Moon.
Known as Tanga, the girl gazed through her telescope, waiting for the moment she could catch sight of him. She was certain if he saw her soul through the eyes of her telescope, she could capture him.
Although Tanga was birthed from Venus, and the blue boy was from Mars. She was snug, filled with warmth and geniality. Her soul bled bright orange, like a juicy tangerine, and he was swamped in blue, completely cold, he could chill you to the bone.
Mars flickered yellow, as she watched from her home on the planet Earth. When the night casted shadows upon Mars, it came back as blue. Then there he was. The blue boy who played the cello for the moon.
He played a soft song; she couldn't believe he was negative degrees like they told her he was. She wasn't sure how long he had resided there, though she had heard it had been close to centuries.
The Moon was a Wanning Crescent, barely lit and curved upwards by the spine as it reclined to rest. So, the boy made the tune livelier and created a New Moon.
Tanga was sown to her sofa, by that time the Moon and Mars had gone and was replaced by a blue sky, still her telescope stayed by her side. She clung to the sofa like a life support machine. She could not move, and she would not. They told her she could not stay there. She couldn't stay fastened to the sofa, waiting for the day to go away just to hear the blue boy play.
So instead, she left the house the next day, and the next night she gave herself insomnia, with the telescope gripped to her eyes which were frozen by Mars. Yet she did not see him, and she couldn't hear his cello.
Then on the second evening, she returned home. Once again, she fell onto her sofa and picked up her telescope from the windowpane. She placed the scope by her eyes and peered through. By this time, she was unhopeful, believing she would never see the blue boy again. As the night crept through, he finally appeared again with the cello in one hand, and it's bow in the other.
She perked herself in her chair and strained her ears to hear. His spirits seemed different that day, he had a new energy and a hop in his stride. Mars shone brighter too, like a crystal rock it mesmerised the night sky. The Moon was different too, it's celestial body scintillated, the New Moon was fading.
The boy began to play his cello and the instrument was buoyant. The craters of the Moon opened as it's ears listened. The Moon grew shy, and, in a flash, it dissolved, rotating to its right side so it could stare affectionately towards the blue boy on Mars. It had become a Waxing Crescent.
As Tanga witnessed this, she thought to herself that she loved the blue boy from Mars too, for he could even captivate the Moon. The blue boy was already retreating, though before he vanished, he turned his head around his shoulders to look towards the Earth. She thought maybe he had heard her.
The next day Tanga was defiant. She wouldn't leave the window or her telescope or the sofa. "Sometimes I see the Moon in the daylight, like a silver crescent dimmed out by the sunshine. And maybe Mars has that same power, maybe if I can see Mars in the day light, then it means he loves me too." She had spoken.
Nevertheless, they weren't hearing her. They said she couldn't change nature. That's just how the planets are, and so she followed them through the daylight, hearing the birds sing and her friends chatter. Notwithstanding, she returned home in the evenings to her moss-coloured sofa and the ivy of the sky tangled her, the vines pulling her eyes closer to the brightest "star" in the sky, which was Mars.
So, for four days she continued her routine and on the fourth evening, he appeared for her so called date.
The blue cellist had a new persona. He seemed thoughtful as he sat on his bottom and stared at the cello in his hand. He moved his eyes left to right as he thought, his mouth pursed with curiosity. He placed the cello beside the bow which was resting on Mars’ dusty surface and leaned his elbows atop his knees. He wasn’t sure he wanted to play that night; he was sure he had already heard someone else playing a song.
However, he knew the Moon needed him, so he picked up his cello and his bow. And the Moon was worrisome, this new song was different once again. Uncertain and slow, the bow moved its four strings with a slight croak. Still, the song from the instrument consoled the Moon, filling it with joy and some of the shadows that covered it drifted away. The Moon was a Full Quarter and the blue boy looked towards Tanga’s quarter with strained eyes, he hadn’t seen her yet, but he was aware she was lingering there.
He took the oxide dust from the ground and buried himself under it. Tanga watched Mars that whole night, wondering if he’d pull himself out.
When she told her friends the next day, they weren’t understanding her. They didn’t warn her away from the blue boy but encouraged her to introduce herself the next time. They heartened Tanga to leave her telescope alone for the next four days, to focus on herself and only to revisit it on the four evening when the Moon phase changed and he usually revealed himself.
Tanga enjoyed herself for the next four days, she laughed with her friends and worked on growing her mind, by that fourth evening she was ready and positive that she had the confidence to reveal herself to the blue boy.
On that evening, she clasped her telescope to her eye and waited. Mars was a shining plasma light; the sparks of colour almost blinded her. Mars had a bout of a solar storm, the sand of the planet whirled around like a typhoon. When it grew feeble, the blue boy materialised, digging himself from out of the iron dust so that he came into her sight.
Her chest quivered and her heart raced, there was a fluttering in the pit of her stomach.
Though she was surprised to see that the blue boy was different once again. This time he was restless, he stomped around with his arms raised to the sky above Mars with his cello and bow lifted upwards as an offering. She felt it was due to the storm, but it wasn’t entirely her intuition.
“What causes you to worry?” Tanga had asked and it seemed he had heard her, and the solar storm stopped. He neither replied nor looked in her direction. Instead, he positioned his cello and looked towards the moon.
Tanga’s shoulders shrank, she had made herself known to him but still he seemed impatient. Motionlessly she listened as he slid the bow against the cello strings. The cello’s tune was harsh, it scavenged the solar winds which blew towards the Moon and as the dust cleared the Moon was brought back as a Full Moon, shining bright as it became an illuminated full circle.
Tanga grew tense, as the Moon phase changed, she knew the blue cellist would too. The dust had risen from the ground again and he had left too.
She didn’t wait to tell her friends. She told them about the occurrence the next day. That time they asked her whether she was sure she loved the blue boy, because if she wasn’t sure he was bothered by her then she should reveal herself to him again to find out the source of his issues. For if he revealed them to her then she would know if her love was requited.
Tanga agreed, she had spent over eighteen days transfixed to Mars, losing sleep and eagerly waiting for the night he came out from his slumber. Her desire for the truth burned within her, she continued for another four days, and the cellist never strayed too far from her mind.
On the twenty-secondth evening after Tanga had first sighted the boy on Mars, she flopped onto her sofa and picked her telescope up. She was eager to know what the blue cellists mood was going to be that night.
When the blue cellist became visible on Mars, he was tired, he staggered around exhausted and obsolete. His spirits were dry, it didn’t seem to Tanga that he would tell her anything but still she tried.
“Hey, what’s wrong and why are you so blue?” She asked him.
He had heard her calling to him, but instead he turned his back towards her. Tanga’s heart sank, she supposed he didn’t feel the same. She moved the telescope away from her eyes and leaned further into her sofa, so much it could swallow her. She sighed, understanding it would be the last night she stayed up to witness him. She decided to look through the telescope to hear him play his cello one last time. When she looked, he still had his back to her and Tanga began to weep.
Except when the blue boy heard her, he turned around and sank back to the ground. He looked in her direction, but their eyes still did not meet. He picked up his cello and nodded his head towards her, then he looked to the moon and began his bowing movements on his cello. This melody was entwined with satiation, it made her heart jump and race. She thought she saw the blue cellist smiling and she thought she felt it too.
Though the Moon was growing weary and jealous, it was not a song he had ever played. The Moon so needed him, or it could never change. The shadows overhauled it, and the Moon was left lopsided, its surface was imperfect as it rusted in the shade. It seemed the two were talking, the Moon had told him to send Tanga away. They could never be together, for she was birthed from Venus and her body lived on Earth, and he was cursed on Mars surrounded by the dirt. The boy jinxed the Waning Gibbous and turned away to hide once again.
The sky was turning cobalt, then cerulean, then steel blue. The top of the Sun’s head appeared by the skyline, it shone rays of orange coral as it cracked into the sky. Tanga hauled herself from her sofa, and scurried into bed though what had just unravelled could not leave her head. She smiled towards her ceiling, replaying the song repeatedly but she was hurt by the Moon and what it had said.
She spent some time alone for the next four days after. She was developing herself and finding chances to grow. She thought if she could find a way to persuade the Moon that she was worthy then the Moon would stop scourging the blue cellist and release him, to allow them to be.
The fourth evening of the week followed, and Tanga was already supported by her telescope as she sat on her olive sofa. She filtered her eyes through the glass and watched Mars as it danced in the sky. Then there he was again, the blue cellist and this time he was diverged. He held his cello in sadness as he looked up at the Moon, then he looked towards the Earth, and Mars glimmered with hope.
“Please look into my eyes!” Tanga silently urged him. If her telescope were down then her arms would be wide open, but the boy began playing his cello, with a desolate smile at the Moon. The cello’s song this time was anger. The boy so loved the Moon that he couldn’t betray it but what he wanted was Tanga, he had been watching her from the Martian surface until his heart was brimming with longing.
The Moon was bitter with the boy too. It flung the night into complete shade, hiding Mars from Tanga’s sight. Tanga was confused, there was not even a cloud to be seen in the sky. She rubbed her eyes and frowned as she looked out of her window. There was nothing but the pitch darkness, even the lights from her home had turned off. Then suddenly she saw the Moon again, flipped on its left side, then a Third Quarter, with its back turned away from Mars.
She grabbed her telescope again and quickly zoomed onto Mars. There was no boy standing there, just the beating of the planet.
She told her friends that next morning. They had been worried about her unusual absence, though they were happy that the blue boy loved her too. They carried her through it, promising Tanga she would see him again.
On the twenty-ninth night she looked to Mars again. When she looked there, he had already found her.
“Where have you been?” he had said.
Tanga was shocked to know he had already discovered her. She squinted through the telescope as she tried to look closer at his face. Mars looked a lonely planet, covered in shade by the back turned Moon. The atmosphere had changed, and its craters were filled with hard ice which stretched along the planet like silvery branches of a tree, the planet was turning completely blue and hostile.
The blue boy began walking closer towards the direction of Earth, but the Moon had grumbled, its surface vibrated and sent waves through Mars, causing the blue boy to wobble off balance. His face ripped apart as he dropped his cello, and he lamented as he clung onto his chest.
The Moon, who despised Tanga, was spinning with power. Without the boy it would become defenceless. Through the shaking of Mars, the boy climbed to his feet, he bent over to pick up his cello and his hands shook as he moved the bow against it, his face was apprehensive.
He began playing though the noise of the strings were hoarse, he was struggling to create the music’s refrain and as he struggled to grip the cello its strings broke. Tanga watched completely stricken, it felt as though the Earth around her were shaking too. Still, the blue cellist continued his bowing movements with the one string that was left.
When the Moon heard his song, everything was still, the darkness had come once again, throwing the Moon into complete dimness. When it resurfaced the Moon had decreased, it was a golden sliver, that hardly filled the shape of Tanga’s telescope. The blue boy had smiled brightly and Tanga reached towards him as she looked through the optic, he began walking closer to the Earth once again. His eyes faced her as he stared right at Tanga with looks of love. Their eyes had finally met.
Tanga felt an explosion within her, his love had enthralled her and her already warm heart was consumed by flames. She felt no discomfort, only contentment as she combusted and her soul rose to the sky and tinted the moon red, creating a rare and unexpected Blood Moon.
Though Tanga and the blue cellist were still on different planets. Tanga’s soul dwelled on the Moon and the boy was still attached to Mars, but they were close enough to whisper and Tanga no longer needed her trusted scope to see him. He still played his cello every few night for Tanga and the Moon to listen, and every two years and a half, Tanga would paint the Blood Moon red as a symbol of her love for the blue boy on Mars.
