Once again, Ganymede woke up in an unfamiliar place.
The sensation of being inside a sleeping bag on the hard ground, at least, had become more familiar. And in reality, Ganymede already had her own experiences of sleeping outside. But something about no longer having the choice of where to sleep made it feel especially constrained and uncomfortable.
Ganymede glanced at her three companions, Dal-Sun, Martim, and Arya. They were still fast asleep. Ganymede suspected she had awoken an hour or two before they usually got up, because this had been the case for the past few days. It had also been the case that what Ganymede would normally do in this situation is simply stare at the walls of the tent until everyone else woke up, but the idea of this felt especially grating to her this particular morning, so she decided to do something different.
After some light stretching, Ganymede slowly removed herself from her bedding, being careful to make as little noise as possible. She inspected the other three, one by one, listening closely–their breathing was light, they were still asleep. She grabbed her boots and tip-toed outside the tent, making sure to put some distance between herself and the others before she attempted to put them on. Once her footwear was secured, she walked deeper into the forest.
She had no destination in mind–she wasn’t even sure where the four of them were in their journey to the next town–but it was not yet dawn, and the stars were still out. Navigating forests at night was second nature to her. She knew she would be able to find her way back no matter where she went, so she let herself wander.
As she drifted, she thought to herself that something felt alien to her about this forest. She assumed some of the strangeness was simply due to the fact that it wasn’t her forest, it wasn’t the place that had become a second home to her, but there was more to it than that. The feel was different, the smell was different. There was different life in this forest than in the one back home.
She had never left her hometown before. She knew from her studies that different types of plants and animals lived in different places, but in her mind, it was easy to assume that forests would be the same no matter where she went. The idea that a forest would feel otherworldly to her after spending only a few days traveling away from town, even if it was only an instinctual feeling, served as yet another reminder of how many changes were happening to her all at once. How distant she already was from her old life.
She wasn’t even supposed to have a “new life”. She hadn’t chosen any of this.
She felt anger rising within her, and she sent that anger into her legs, picking up her pace, settling into a run. She pushed as much of herself into it as she could: her lungs, her arms, her back. She even strained the muscles she otherwise wouldn’t have been using. She couldn’t force the situation to change, but she could put pressure on herself, force her body to become stronger.
When she realized the running wasn’t causing her anger to subside, she decided to try a different approach. She sought out a tree that was noticeably larger than the others, and she leapt at it, wrapping her arms and legs around it, digging into the bark using her claws. Then, slowly, she inched her way up the trunk of the tree, using nothing but her own strength and stubbornness.
This new task successfully took all of her emotional focus, and she lost track of time. Even in cases where she slipped and raked her skin across the wood, she renewed her grip and continued onwards. Eventually, she made her way to the highest branch in the tree that she was confident could still hold her weight, and she grabbed onto it, lifting herself onto it.
There, she positioned herself so she could sit on the branch as securely as possible, with her back to the trunk, holding another branch for support. She took a deep breath and let out a long sigh. It wasn’t comfortable, but at least her anger was gone.
But her thoughts remained.
As always, she looked to the moon, which she knew would be fading as dawn arrived.
She had failed the moon.
She had dedicated more than half her life to the moon at this point, and it had led to nothing except losing everything that she had. Destroying any chances that she might have had for reaching the moon, or for reaching anyone else in her life.
What was she even doing, anymore?
In some sense, meeting Dal-Sun led to a new opportunity. In some sense, Ganymede thought it should feel as though she made progress that she had never made before now, by finding others who had the same goals she did. But somehow, it didn’t feel that way to her.
Progress should have felt like growth, not destruction. She should have been able to maintain everything she already had, she should’ve been able to continue building on it. She should’ve been able to take on new projects in addition to the ones she was already working on. Instead, everything reset to zero–not just that, went into negatives, and now she had no choice except to pursue a new project. That wasn’t progress, that was cutting losses. That was failure.
Why was she out here, in this strange place she didn’t belong? Shouldn’t she be going back and trying to fix things? Was that even possible?
Maybe she only assumed it was impossible because she wasn’t trying hard enough. It was hard to believe that the other people in town, who had spent their entire life with her, would truly turn their backs on her so easily. Besides, her town had emphasized that family was the most important thing in life, to the point that no one in town even bothered with anyone new coming into it. If she couldn’t even do the work of maintaining ties with her own family, why should she expect that things would go any better with this group of people who were complete strangers to her? Was her mother right, would they just treat her as a shiny new thing in their lives, and throw her away when they got tired of her? Return to the people in their lives that they already had close bonds with? Like she should be doing?
But then, did she ever have close ties with anyone in her town, after all? Would she really be in this position now, if she had? Would her family have let go of her so easily, if they actually cared about her?
Maybe they would want her back, if she’d only go back and actually give them the chance. If she hadn’t given up and run away like she just did.
Ganymede felt herself tearing up. She put an arm over her eyes. She didn’t want to cry. Crying would mean she didn’t have a way forward anymore. She focused on holding back the lump that was forming in her throat.
She unblocked the view from one eye so she could look at the moon. “I’m doing all this for you,” she whispered. “What would bring me closer to you? Staying with these new people, or going back home and fixing things?”
She had always worked so hard. No matter what work she did, though, it always felt like it was the wrong thing. So why did she still feel like sticking to her goal of pursuing the moon was the only right thing in her life? Wasn’t that what was causing the rest of this to happen, like Jess said? Shouldn’t that change her mind on how she was handling things?
Suddenly, she heard a rustling in the leaves around her. She looked to see where it was, and she saw movement, but it was also going too fast for her to keep her eye on it. The movement also went behind the trunk behind her head, so it wasn’t easy for her to follow. By the time she turned her head to catch it on the other side, she saw Dal-Sun sitting on a branch above her.
“Hey,” Dal-Sun said, sitting down. “Mind if I join you?”
Ganymede pointed at her. “How did… you get up there so fast?”
Dal-Sun shrugged. “I’m used to being in high places.”
Ganymede sighed and looked back towards the skyline. She wasn’t in the mood to talk, especially not about this, about whether she should stay with Dal-Sun or not.
“I got kicked out of my hometown, too, you know,” Dal-Sun said.
Ganymede looked back at her, but said nothing.
“It’s rough, isn’t it?” Dal-Sun asked.
Ganymede sighed. “I didn’t… get kicked out, I…”
“Hon, you were kicked out. You were kicked out a long time ago.”
Ganymede looked at her blankly. A moment of silence passed between them.
“Almost no one in the Lunites comes from a stable background,” Dal-Sun continued. “We’re all in positions similar to yours. We’re all weird. No one normal decides that they just… need to get to the moon, and don’t care what science or society has to say about whether it makes sense, or has any value, or is even possible. And then we keep pursuing it even though we never actually seem to get any closer to it.”
Dal-Sun shrugged again, then gestured towards Ganymede. “You’re still trying to measure the worth of the moon according to your town’s values. Because you’re still trying to convince them, and convince yourself. But I’m going to tell you right now, your town just doesn’t value the moon, and it won’t ever, it can’t. It doesn’t have the means to. But you don’t have to look to your town to find the moon’s value.”
Dal-Sun pointed her nose and an open paw in the direction of the moon itself. “All you need to do is look right over there.
“Ganymede, you can see what the moon has to offer just by looking at it. That is what separates you from your town. You have that vision when no one else in your town has it. But you know who does have it? The other Lunites. All of them saw that same light that you’re seeing right now, and they all decided it was worth living their lives in pursuit of it, even if everyone else told them they were wrong. And in that pursuit, they all found each other, and recognized that vision within each other, and now they’re all working together to help each other pursue that vision. To bring the moon’s beauty into their own lives.”
Dal-Sun turned back towards Ganymede. “I know you feel like you’re all alone, because your town made you feel like you’re all alone. But you’re not. And you’re not crazy, either. And once you start spending more time with other Lunites, you will see that. You’ll gain a better understanding of it. You’ll start to see just how much your own supposed friends and family have purposely kept you in the dark until now.”
Ganymede limply waved a paw at her. “You say ‘other Lunites’ like I’m already one of them. I’m not.”
“You are,” Dal-Sun said. “Or you can, if you choose to be. It’s already obvious to me that you belong with us. It’s obvious to the others, too. And it will be obvious to our organizers when we introduce you to them. You have no idea how similar your story is to everyone else’s. And you’re so capable, you’ve done so much already.”
“I haven’t done anything,” Ganymede said angrily, pounding a first into her own leg. “I just tore apart a forest, physically hurt some people, ruined all my relationships, landed myself in jail…”
“That is exactly my point,” Dal-Sun pressed. “That’s not nothing, Ganymede, that’s tremendous. It’s awe-inspiring. Most people are too scared of change to even think about making waves like that, let alone doing it all by themselves. You care enough about doing what’s important to you that you’re willing to completely rewrite your own life to make it happen. Your town tried to burn you, to turn you to ash, but you rose right out of that like a fucking phoenix.”
Ganymede considered her for a few seconds. “Dal-Sun, I don’t… know what you’ve been through, but… I feel like you have a different idea of my town than what it actually is. My town never tried… my town never wanted to hurt me, I just… didn’t fit in with it, and they didn’t know how to help me. And I don’t blame them, I don’t know how to help myself, either.”
Dal-Sun gave her a quizzical look. “You didn’t ‘fit in’. To that town. The one that just put you in jail for bringing in outsiders. And you’re saying that town didn’t try to hurt you for not fitting in?”
Ganymede had flashbacks to what her mother always told her about how the town responded to people who didn’t belong.
“Ganymede, did you ever even have any real friends in that town?”
Ganymede had asked herself that question before. She remembered a conversation she had many years ago, during one of those moments she was asking herself that question.
“Jess,” Ganymede said. “Are we friends?”
Jess looked over at her, surprised. “Yeah, of course we’re friends! Why wouldn’t we be?”
They were sitting together outside, in the schoolyard, eating lunch. Ganymede had simply gone to the tree she usually sat at to eat lunch, and for whatever reason, Jess had chosen to sit with her that day. Ganymede knew it was unusual for anyone to sit with her, and it made her self-conscious.
“I just don’t think anyone really thinks of me that way,” Ganymede said. “And you have so many other friends you could be spending time with instead, so…”
“You trying to get me to leave?” Jess took a bite of her food.
“No!” Ganymede said. “No. I just… I don’t know. I don’t know what I’m trying to say. I’m sorry. I’m glad you’re here, really.”
Jess continued eating, but she held a paw to the bottom of her muzzle in a contemplative move as she did. “I don’t know if people don’t think of you as a friend, Ganymede. I think they’re just not sure how to act around you. You’re so quiet, most of the time. Or you’re off spending time by yourself. Most people don’t know what to do with that, and they might make comments about it, but I don’t think it means they don’t like you.”
Ganymede rubbed a sore spot on her arm where someone had shoved her earlier. “But they’d still rather be spending time with other people rather than me, right? That’s what being friends with someone means. You want to spend time with them.”
Jess laughed. “Well, I have some friends who are closer than others, and I might spend more time with them, but I don’t spend literally all my time with them, now do I? I have plenty of time to spend with everyone, and I wanted to make sure I spent a bit of time with you, too. And that’s why I’m here now. Because you’re my friend and I want to make sure to stay in touch with you, just like I stay in touch with everyone else.”
Ganymede looked down at her own food, which she hadn’t eaten yet. “I see,” she said. “I didn’t know.”
“Mm-hm.”
The two sat in silence for another minute.
“And like,” Jess said, “I don’t assume you’re not friends with me because you don’t go out of your way to spend time with me. It just seems to me like you just prefer being alone. Is that wrong?”
“Well, um. Not exactly. I do like you, Jess.”
“Yeah. And I think that’s fine. It’s okay to be like that. I’ll reach out to you from time to time so you don’t have to reach out to me.”
Ganymede rubbed her sore spot again. “I just think being around people is overwhelming, and… I don’t know how you do it. Or why you do it. If I had even, like, five people I was close to as you seem to be close to practically everyone, I feel like that would be enough to last me my whole life. Do you… not feel the same way?”
Jess scratched her fluffy cheek. “I love my friends a lot. To the point that I think I actually agree with you that even five of them could be all I need. But that’s not really the point of making friends, Ganymede.
“Just like I don’t need to spend all my time with them, it’s also just not good to spend all my time with them. Sometimes they’re not in the mood, or I’m not. Sometimes we get into fights and we really don’t need to spend time together then. And in those moments, I want to make sure I still have other people I can spend time with. So I keep making new friends.
“And besides that, even if things are already good, you never know! There might still be someone out there who’s even more fun to spend time with. Or maybe I’ll meet someone who shows me things that make me appreciate my existing friends even more. I’m never gonna know if I just stick with the few people I know.”
Ganymede stayed silent. It all sounded so exhausting. In spite of her efforts, she didn’t really feel like she’d built any bonds with even one person, not bonds she felt she could truly rely on. She had no idea how Jess had not only found friends as close as the ones she had, and so many more friends than just those, and was still ready and eager to make even more friends. Ganymede couldn’t picture herself ever being like Jess.
“You know, maybe that’s why you feel like you don’t have friends, Ganymede,” Jess said. “Maybe you just haven’t met the right people yet, or haven’t had the chance to interact with them in ways that make sense to you. But you won’t ever have that if you don’t try, you know?”
Ganymede looked over at her. Jess placed her paw on Ganymede’s.
“You can start with me,” Jess said. “I’m up for doing whatever you want. And if it doesn’t work out, I’ll support you while you go out and look for more friends. I’m not one to get jealous.” She smiled. “Real friends don’t forget about you, or stop caring about you, just because you’re out doing other things. Real friends want you to do what’s best for you. And they’ll wait for you to come back and tell them all about it.”
“I don’t know if I had any real friends or not,” Ganymede said softly in response to Dal-Sun’s question. “But I want to think I did.”
Dal-Sun sighed. “I don’t want to discredit any actual allies you may have had. Maybe you did, for all I know. They definitely would’ve been suppressed, too, if you had. All I know is no one tried to get you out of jail before we did.”
Ganymede sighed and looked out at the horizon. The dawn’s light was already starting to show, the bright orange slowly replacing the deep blue of the previous night.
“I think I just need a break,” Ganymede said.
“Like a vacation?”
“I need a break from my town. It’s all I’ve ever known, and it’s never made sense to me, and maybe it’s just confusing everything even now. I need something else. I’m not sure it even matters what that something else is.”
Dal-Sun shook her head in sympathy. “I know I’m repeating myself here, but I really think when you get to talking with the other Lunites, they’ll relate to everything you’re feeling more than you can even know.”
“Well, I won’t have to take your word for it if I just go and see it for myself, right?”
Dal-Sun’s face lit up in a wide smile, her ears perked skyward. “That’s right.”
“Okay. I think I’m ready to get back down now.”
“Okay! Glad to hear it. Let’s go get some food in us.”
“Okay, but, um.” Ganymede looked down. “I didn’t actually think about how to get back down out of this tree.”
Dal-Sun smirked as she pulled her backpack off, then pulled a coil of rope out of it. “Always have an escape route ready.”
