The Moon Tells Secrets (3 page)

The abruptness of her words and actions puzzled and amused me, and I noticed a glimmer of a smile in Cade's eyes at last. But instantly Luna's expression changed. She lifted her head, as if she heard something in the distance.

“Cade, can you get the car and bring it around so we can get out of here? This tote bag is heavy. Side entrance is good, closer to where you parked. Past time for us to leave,” she added, too sweetly. Cade studied her curiously, then nodded and shrugged as if used to following her orders.

“You're coming with us, aren't you, Raine?” she asked as Cade headed out the side exit.

“No, I—”

“Please,” Luna said, her eyes pleading so hard, I nodded that I would. We'd stay for a few minutes, then take a cab from there to the apartment, then catch the bus. I searched for Davey in the back of the church but didn't see him. He'd probably gotten bored, ducked down looking for something he'd dropped, his cell phone more than likely; he was always dropping that.

“But we can't stay long.” Luna scarcely heard me. Her gaze was focused on someone who had just entered the church.

It was dressed in black this time, from head to toe, a ninja or grim reaper ready for death. It stepped into the room as it had the restaurant, sure of itself, looking around, turning up its dog nose as it sniffed the air, swallowing it, gulping down our scent, and when it saw me, its slanted yellow eyes wouldn't let me go, and its dagger teeth peeked out from its thick pink gums. I stood staring, unable to move as I watched it stroll away.

How long had it been here? What had it done?

“Davey!” I screamed, finding my voice, tearing myself from where I stood, running to the back of the church. “Where are you! Where are you hiding?” I ran to the spot where I'd left him and dropped to my knees, my heart pounding. Had it beaten us this time? Had it gotten my son? I couldn't let myself think, I wouldn't.

“Davey!”

Yet somewhere in my mind, I knew I would sense if my son was gone. I would know it in my heart. He was here. I could feel him. Frightened but alive.

“Davey is your son?” I'd forgotten that Luna was behind me.

“He's hiding somewhere,” I said, ignoring her question as I crawled between the pews, stripping out pillows, searching corners and crevices, my eyes filling with tears of fear and dread.

And then I saw the glint of his round glasses on the floor and his clothes—jeans, T-shirt, socks, sneakers—slipped out of quickly, quietly, left in a pile the way he did when he got ready for school. And then Davey himself, nestled into a dark corner on the edge of a pew—a space just big enough for the tiny creature he'd become. I dropped to my knees, bending down in front of it. “Come out now. It's okay, Davey. It's okay. It's gone.”

He poked his head out first, small, brown, furry, then eased out the rest: dainty pointed ears and claws; whiskers fine as threads; sleek, fast body. Scampering to the back of the room, he disappeared into a cloakroom. He'd spotted Luna and wouldn't shift in front of her. He never changed in front of me either; that secret he kept with his grandmother, how he made it happen, how long it took.

But this had been a foolish decision, this puny creature he'd become. Easily caught and eaten by the cat, dog, wolf that sought him. A child's choice—quick and small enough to burrow into a tight, hidden space. To disappear without calling attention. Not a wise one. How easily he could have been devoured before I'd know he was gone. Anna had warned me about this. Better to be fierce enough to frighten, she'd always told him. Run and hide until he is big enough, strong enough to fend for himself and for you.

But Anna was gone, and he was just a boy who knew no better. Small creatures were simpler to become than large ones. More his nature. The fierce ones would come later, when he could handle the strength they brought. When he was ready to take blood, to take what was his. Fine for now, she'd told me. Just keep him safe until it's time. And I hadn't.

Church mouse. Squirrel. Bunny. I hadn't gotten a good look this time. All I knew was that I would need to take him home to rest. There would be no leaving town today or even tomorrow. We needed to find a safe place where he could come back into himself.

“You'll stay with me until it's over,” Luna said, reading my thoughts as Geneva once had.

I had no choice but to listen.

 

2

raine

Is it safe here?

There was enough of Anna in me to make me fearful, but this felt like a good place to stay for a day or two. Maybe it was the afternoon sun hitting the pale yellow walls in Luna's living room, bathing them in golden highlights, and the sweet, spicy scent—cinnamon, brown sugar, curry—that floated in from the kitchen. Or the color of the winding stairs, the same shade of turquoise as her tote bag, that led to the second floor, or the battered red and white metal glider swing parked in the middle of her backyard, waiting to be swung in like some relic from the nineteenth century. Or simply Luna herself. But I was able to breathe.

“You all freshen up, and I'll put out some lunch,” Luna said as she disappeared into the kitchen, leaving Cade and me standing awkwardly together. I tried not to look at him, but couldn't help myself; his face intrigued me. A square, lightly bearded chin gave it strength, and the lips could be sensual if he gave them half a chance, even though they were now locked in a grimace, tight and unyielding. Something drew me to him, and I hadn't allowed myself to feel that kind of attraction in years. I felt clumsy and graceless standing beside him, as uncomfortable as he clearly was with me. We exchanged forced, stiff smiles, and I noticed again the sorrow in his eyes. I wondered if mine looked that way to him, if my loneliness was so obvious.

Davey was lying on the living room couch. It took him a while to pull back into himself, to pull the inner Davey back from where the outer had been, away from that body, small though it was, that had taken over his own. I could only imagine the movement taking place within him—the shrinking and lengthening and widening, the fear of being seen. I always left him by himself during his transformation, as Anna used to call it. Let him find himself at his own pace. His was an external battle as well as an internal one, taking place where no one could see or hear it.

Cade shifted his gaze to Davey, concern replacing his sadness. “So how you doing?”

Davey glanced up, unwilling, unable to answer. He had buried his face deep into Luna's couch, which was covered in a nubby yellow fabric that looked like sand. Had his mind taken him to the beach, I wondered? Did he remember the feel of the sun and the smell of cotton candy on the Jersey Shore when we dared to escape? Had it all come back just long enough for him to catch his breath and do what he had to do to return? Slowly, he picked up his head, eyes not quite open, staring at me, then Cade.

“Is he okay?” Cade asked, his voice low, and I nodded he was, although I wasn't sure. It had gotten close this time, closer than it ever had before. I sensed that Davey had known a different, deeper fear.

“He'll be better after he gets some rest.”

Davey closed his eyes again, but his breathing had returned to normal.

“What scared him so bad?”

“He just gets scared sometimes,” I said defensively, avoiding Cade's eyes. “Panic attacks.”

“Panic attacks that severe? In a kid this young?”

“Yeah.”

He looked puzzled but didn't pursue it, and I was relieved when Luna bustled into the room with a tray of sandwiches and tea. I was hungrier than I'd thought, but not so hungry as my son, who devoured sandwich after sandwich so quickly, I feared he would choke. Cade watched him, an amused smile on his lips.

“He's definitely better,” he said as Davey gulped his tea. Cade picked up the last sandwich on the platter, the only one Davey had left, and gobbled it down himself, then glanced at the door. I wondered if he was married; if there was a wife waiting impatiently for him to return, come home to dinner.

“On your way, of course. Let me get you something to take with you,” Luna said, frowning with what looked like frustration as she went back into the kitchen. So there was no one waiting for him. That thought cheered me, and I wasn't sure why.

“Yeah, she's mad at me again,” Cade said, embarrassed.

“Luna?”

“Who else?”

“Does she get mad at you often?”

“Ask her.” A quick smile that could pass as a smirk flitted across his lips.

“Have you two been friends long?” I took a quick sip of tea, still trying to figure out their relationship.

“A lifetime. What's your son's name?” He tried to change the subject.

“Davey.”

“After the king,” Davey chimed in from the couch between bites.

“So you know who King David was?”

Davey shrugged. “Guess so. Big-time king. Supposed to be strong, right?”

“Sounds like you know something about history.”

“Yeah, but I like other stuff better.”

“Like what?”

He was nearly at full strength. The light was back in his eyes, and that brought it back in mine. “Harry Potter, stuff like that.”

“Wizards and magic! You sound like the kids in my class.”

“So you're a teacher?” I asked.

“Sixth grade. You look about eleven, Davey. You heading to junior high or middle school?”

“He'll be in fifth,” I answered for him, defensively.

“Supposed to be in sixth,” Davey volunteered bashfully. We'd moved around so much, he was a grade behind.

“Grades don't matter that much. You look like a smart guy to me, that's all that counts.” Cade sensed Davey's sensitivity, and I was grateful for that when I saw Davey's grin.

“Yeah, I guess I am sometimes,” Davey said, all bashfulness gone.

Luna came back with a brown paper bag, which Cade took, giving her a neat peck on her cheek. With a sigh of exasperation, Luna said nothing.

“So do you two live around here?” he asked, his attention on me.

“We did.” Davey threw me an irritable glance.

“Relocating.” I stuffed my mouth full of a sandwich so I wouldn't have to explain.

“Well, good luck. Good travels.” Cade turned to Davey. “Hey, you know another great writer you should read? Walter Dean Myers. He's one of my favorites. Check out his stuff. You'll like that, too.” He gave Davey a quick fist pound. “Take it easy, man, take it slow.”

“You, too.” Davey's grin made me smile, too. It was good to see this small gesture of male solidarity pass between them; it was something he'd shared with Mack that would be missing from his life now, something that he sorely needed.

“So you like TV?” Luna asked Davey as soon as Cade had gone. “There's one in my bedroom upstairs. Why don't you go up and check out what's on cable. Your mom and I need to talk.”

“Can I order a movie?”

“As long as it's not nasty.”

Davey rolled his eyes, completely back to himself, and scampered upstairs. Luna settled into the chair next to me, her cup of tea replaced with the Bloody Mary she'd promised herself in church. I knew from the tilt of her head and expression that she was looking for answers, and I owed her that. But she waited awhile before she spoke, stirred her drink, sipped it slowly.

“So why don't you tell me about this son of yours. Why and how often does this happen?”

“What do you—?”

“You know damn well what I mean. I have to know what is going on, because you are in my house—so don't bullshit me.”

I had never talked to anyone about Davey before; only Anna knew everything. I searched for words that would make sense, but could find none. I looked away, unable to meet her eyes. Luna grabbed my hand and held it like she was trying to pour her strength into me, and I could almost feel it flowing into my body in sharp, tiny pulses like electricity.

“The telling is always worse than what is told. Begin at the beginning,” she said, and I did.

*   *   *

It began when I saw Elan walking down the street that April day, I told her, and me with nothing on my mind except sunlight so strong it made me sweat and dandelions peeking their yellow heads between the sidewalk cracks. I was looking so hard I tripped—and he grabbed me just in time to keep me from falling straight down on my face, his eyes as bright and gentle as Davey's were now, his hands so strong as they held my shoulder. I wanted to tell her about what we had talked about that morning, but I couldn't. Did he mention the broken sidewalk? He must have mentioned it, that and how much we both loved the smell of spring. By the end of that walk, longer than we knew it should be, all I knew was that I would see him again.

“From the looks of Davey, he must've been a handsome man,” Luna said.

“He was more than that.” I tried to explain how gracious and friendly he was, and how somewhere in that long walk, he'd told me his name meant “friendly,” and then, suddenly, I remembered our first date: the movie we could hardly hear because the kids in the front row were doing so much talking, how it rained all the way home, but nothing spoiled it for us, nothing. He was an easy, joyful man, I said, and I loved him more each time I saw him.

“Sounds too good to be true, but true love always is,” said Luna.

“But there was always fear, apprehension in his eyes that I never understood until I had his child. He didn't talk much about his family, just that he was half black, half Navajo, and an only child like me. We were loners, the two of us, bound together the moment I touched his hand. Long before we married, we had taken our vows with our souls.”

“And then came Davey?”

“Quickly. And I met his mother, Anna.”

“What was she like?”

“There was a wariness about her, too, as if she were afraid of me and the baby, and when she touched my womb, bending down to listen like she could hear the baby's heartbeat, it frightened me. Her love was so fierce, it went straight through to the baby. I was sure of that. I didn't tell
our
people I was married and pregnant; I didn't want their sourness to touch the sweetness in my life.”