The Midnight of Mid-Midwinter

Thunder and lightning crackled overhead. Somehow, even though he was facing forward, running frantically, he could see the horde of wolves right behind him, snarling and gnashing their fangs, as clearly as if he was an outside observer.

Losing his footing now would be fatal. Ahead of him, the old wooden structure loomed. He slammed his body into it, causing the door to creak open, and he slipped inside before it swung closed.

There was a crash of thunder, sounding like it came from right outside, and a flash of lightning illuminated the barn for just an instant. In the bright white light, he caught a glimpse of the goat-like figure cowering in a corner. It looked up at him in fright, its eyes staring through him.

With a sensation that felt like waking up, Mei realised: This is a dream.

Mei walked towards the goat sprawled in the corner, his eyes adjusting to the darkness. “Hello. My name is Mei.” The goat looked terrified. “You don’t have to be scared of me.”

“I know,” it said, standing up shakily.

Once again, Mei felt that its eyes were looking through him, not at him. “What are you looking at?” He turned around, but there was only darkness. It was a deep, bottomless blackness, darker than any other in the barn. Ah, Mei thought, a metaphor. He was good at those. “It’s the unknown, isn’t it?” he said to the goat. “You’re scared of the unknown.”

The goat gave a half nod. “Not just the unknown.”

I’m a part of you, Mei remembered, and you’re a part of me. “You know, I’ve been thinking of you as the fear goat. That’s what I’ve been calling you. But you’re not the fear goat, are you? You’re the afraid goat. You’re me.”

They nodded again.

“I think we should get out of here,” Mei said. He closed his eyes and imagined wind on his fur, sunlight on his closed eyelids. When he opened them again, he and the goat were standing on the hill where he and Gabu had spent their first day together. The summer air felt warm and refreshing.

“I used to tell everyone I wasn’t afraid of anything,” Mei mused.

“Except thunderstorms,” the goat said.

“Except thunderstorms,” Mei agreed.

“But then Gabu came along,” they said, “and there were so many things that could have gone wrong.”

“Many of them did,” Mei said.

“And some of them still could.”

Mei and the goat looked out over the valley, admiring the rolling hills and mountains in the distance. “It’s a shame there aren’t any views like this in the Emerald Forest,” Mei said. His companion didn’t say anything in response to that. “So, what are we still afraid of?”

“Being alone,” the goat said, naming one example. “What would we do if something happened to Gabu?”

“That would be a tragedy,” Mei said, “but we would survive.” They didn’t look convinced. Mei thought for a while. “We’re a part of one another, right?” The goat looked at him and nodded. “That means neither of us is ever truly alone. We’ll always be there for each other.”

“I guess so,” the goat said.

“I know so,” Mei said. “If you really are my fear, or the part of me that’s afraid, then you’ll always be there for me when I need you most. And as for me, I’m not going anywhere.”

“All right. I suppose we have a deal.” They smiled weakly. “Thanks.”

Mei closed his eyes, and the sunlight faded.

When he opened them again, he was in the cave, and Gabu was asleep next to him. He couldn’t see the other goat, but that didn’t mean they weren’t there.

Mei stood up and walked to the cave mouth. It was snowing lightly. “I’ll be back soon, Gabu,” he said, softly enough that his husband wouldn’t wake up. “I just need to spend some time with myself.”

He walked out into the snow and around to the far side of the hill, looking out onto the endless expanse of white. A crescent moon was shining low in the sky, and stars were visible in the spaces between the clouds.

The goat stood beside him, their body faintly translucent. They stood together in silence, watching snowflakes fall gradually to the ground.

“The snow is beautiful,” Mei said. And it was.