(129) The abracadabrante story of Child Moon

“There are moments, places poised halfway between the visible world and the invisible world, where time stands still, where the meeting of the two grants access to a truth at once more beautiful and more real. Only these inestimable encounters with the other help us grasp the very act of seeing or thinking.”

Cynthia Fleury, The Metaphysics of Imagination

— Could it be that we exist in some other space than the words that designate us?

— Perhaps... but then we would be no more than reflections... and within those reflections there would be images of us... though incomplete ones...

— The words and images that designate us would be incomplete?

— Entirely incomplete, if I may say so. What is said and what is shown resemble us... but they are not us.

— How, then, could the reader know better who we truly are?

— The reader would have to pierce the surface of words and images alike—a process that happens almost naturally, though seldom beyond a certain depth. But would it not be better if we ourselves began our journey?

— On foot?

— With humility, until we find a mount worthy of your stature. But... Don Carrot, if I may, and with no intention of offending you, I find myself rather small. If, through the grace of your power, you could see fit to increase my modest height, I should remain forever grateful.

— My friend, the power of which you speak is none other than the power of imagination. Make use of it yourself, and then you will see the world quite differently... But beware of giving too free a rein to your ambitions. I am the hero of this story, and I should hardly relish having my own shadow eclipsed.

— Tell me more of the secret power of this power which I do not yet know.

— It belongs to those things that cannot be revealed. It discloses itself only to those who prove worthy of it.

— And by what signs is such worthiness recognised?

— By humility above all, my dear fellow. Everything begins with humility. And let us not forget that we are not here merely to entertain.

— Humble Don Carrot... that has a pleasing ring to it. Would you be so kind as to raise me just a little?

— There is something excessive in your politeness which I cannot entirely identify, yet which I cannot help but feel conceals the faintest hint of irony.

— Humble I may be... but if we are here to challenge the world, there is neither need nor courtesy in challenging me as well. I hold myself in due respect, and therefore I expect the same from others. But let us dwell on it no longer. The time has come to find me a mount equal to my immoderate proportions.

— There is, Don Carrot, somewhere in this Archipelago, a discreet species—a very discreet one indeed—which, if only you could persuade them, would know how to carry you where you seem intent upon going.

— It is remarkable how often you anticipate my own thoughts. Take care not to run too far ahead of me. In such matters I am rather uncompromising. But tell me, what manner of creatures are they? And are they truly capable of accomplishing the task for which we have come together? Might they be Houyhnhnms?

— Follow me, Master Carrot!

— If I must constantly stop you, we shall never get anywhere! I am Don Carrot of the Plancha. I am neither God nor master... You may simply call me Don Carrot. That will suffice.

And with that, falling respectfully into step behind Sang Chaud, they set out toward the farthest reaches of the island. The path—if indeed there was one—was anything but easy, and it still held many surprises in store for them.