by Laikyn Meng
Probably Luna.
We have had several encounters over the years, so I’m not a complete stranger. I witnessed her first step. Colored drawings of my mother and father; her pure shields. They spoiled her with an emphasis so profound that I realized they were trying to erase the memories from my childhood.
I signed her name, twirled a halo with my hands. Forever in my heart, she would be my angel.
“Luna, can you cover for me? We’ve got four in the waiting room and another 6 due in any minute.” Getting my CNA was a last resort, I thought I would achieve one thing and have something to fall back on.
“Sure, let me grab some gloves.” I waltz into the first room after she hands over the paperwork.
“How are you feeling today?”
“I’m good, knee operation was successful. They said that in a few weeks, I could get my prosthetic.” He is an older gentleman who’s always been kind and optimistic.
“That sounds great, Jeremy. Do you need anything else while you’re here today?” I go over his med sheet. He recently changed his attitude about his situation. For years, drinking and wasting away.
One day he woke up, said he wanted to run again. And started months of therapy to be able be an athletic.
“Just your beautiful smile makes all the difference.” I laugh for the first time. Because damnit, I want to feel happy.
“You’re too much.”
“My wife tells me that every day.”
“She’s a goddamn saint, and you know it.” Truth, she has stuck by him through every breakdown, fall out. The woman is stronger and braver than any person I have ever met.
“See you next week.” He leaves, and I turn to see who’s next on the list.
“Flirting with all the injured patients or just the ones that give you something in return?” Asher leans against the door frame, so smug I almost have the energy to be annoyed.
“What’s up?” I wipe down the seat and counter.
“Just heard your laugh and wondered why he got a free one and why I haven’t earned mine?” Those arms are folded against a buff chest.
“Is there a complaint you need to file with the give a fucks department? Sorry, I didn’t mention it before, but that’s Lucie’s room 3 doors down.”
“What’s with the bitchy attitude?”
“Ha, now I’m a bitch because you want to playback and forth, and I don’t have the time.”
“Damn, somebody assumed you woke up on the right side of the bed this morning. Oh no, wait, it was me.”
“Strange, because I specifically remember something long and hard down my throat the other morning. Must have mistaken it for a dick, couldn’t be the case, though. Because he’s right in front of me.”
“I can show you something long and hard.”
“I guess you could, is it a list of your ex’s? No, wait back up. I do remember now after I hacked up what I thought was your manhood. It was a different taste, though the smell was familiar. Must have been a hairball from my own damn pussy.”
“Fuck, fuck. Fine I surrender, you win. Hands down, Luna’s the queen. You want me on my knees now or later?”
“Why would you be getting on your knees?” Lucie comes around the corner.
“He thinks he has lice, poor guy.” I mock a horrid frown.
The look on her face, pinches, and screws up, I can see her losing appeal.
“Are you serious? We are all going to get infected!” She scurries away, covering her hair.
“Not nice, Luna.”
“They didn’t hire me to be nice.”
“What did they hire you for then?”
“To heal.” I press my hands on his chest and give him a quick smooch on the neck and shove him out of the room.
“Next room is available!”
Chapter 8
ASHER
“Why are you smiling?”
In response to his grumpy voice, I mimic it back to him. “Why aren’t you smiling?”
“I think my dad got caught up in some illegal activities.” Denver sits at the table as I grab a bag of chips.
“Come on, you just barely realized that? Your dad is a shady mother fucker.”
“It’s different this time, someone paid him off.”
“What’s the problem, Denver? How is it different from any of the other times he got paid off from those people he works under the table for?”
“Because it wasn’t money they paid him with. It was a goddamn woman, Ash.”
“What like for a night, is she a prostitute?”
“I don’t think they expect him to give her back. Even if it was just a hired escort, usually, it’s a good time. But…”
“But, something’s off?”
“Yeah, remember a few months ago when we went down to Phoenix for that concert? I met my dad at the house we rented, and he was frustrated about having to do abortions on the women at his office.”
“I guess…where are you going with this?”
“My dad’s never had a clinic, he is a purely private practice. Those women he performs abortions on, Ash. I’ve seen them, they’re young, too young.”
“So if it isn’t prostitution, what do you think it might be? Sex trafficking?”
His tatted knuckles lace together as he hangs his head a moment before replying.
“Yes, it’s looking like it is.”
“Well, what are we going to do about it?”
“There is an opportunity to join him, he wants to retire from the game.”
“He wants you to take over?”
“If I did, I could figure out how to help those women, maybe set them free.” Denver and I have been best friends since we were 16 years old. While he went to school during our enlistment, I screwed my way through the south.
He was a brilliant bastard.
“I don’t think this is mob-style kind of corruption. Not even going to war type of battle, the bad news is I won’t know who the enemies are until I’m too deep.”
“What do you need from me?”
“An alibi.”
“How long?”
“A few months, I’ll keep in touch.” He stands, knocks two knuckles on the table, and leaves out the front door.
~
After my conversation with Denver, I walk down to the local bar. Trying to adjust to his absence. We’ve always been by each other, and I sense there comes a time when our lives take different paths.
The music hits my ear a block away, and I remember to turn it down before I have a splitting migraine. Crowds form a line out front, I tap the bouncer on the shoulder, and he sees it is me and lets me pass.
Two fingers in the air to the flirty waitress who was busting her ass around last time I was here with Luna. I order a few shots of whiskey, shooting them back one after the other.
Speak of the devil.
I notice her first as she sits alone at a booth staring at her drink, one at full compacity.
Guys came up to her, and she smiled politely, and I read her lips as she says no thank you.
Focusing all her attention on the drink that is sweating under pressure. She finally closes her eyes, and without hesitating raises her hands and startes signing the hardest thing I can imagine it was to sign to another person to understand.
So prophetic even, that I am glad I down those shots before I witnessed this.
I'm sorry I'm the one telling you this. Grandma and grandpa, I mean mom and daddy had an accident. They went to heaven, I'm going to take care of you now. Luna’s shoulders sag as if that was the best she could offer to the imaginary person who sat in front of her.
Her hand's swift movements are like a choreographed dance. Every angle of the side is strict, those fingers direct and the final slow burn of a finale.
She slowly raises her eyes and they connect with mine, I raise a fist to my chest and initiate circles. Telling her, I’m sorry for her to lose. All she does is nod and look down at the table.
A bent head to her chest and wh
at I assume as her switching roles on the conversation.
Oh, really, the high school dropout is going to take care of me—a 7-year-old girl who is the offspring of your mistake as a teenager.
In the next part, she hesitates, the confrontation too real to ignore. Hands hover, and tremors wreck at her wrists.
You could never be a mistake. The letter Y hangs under her chin, and I try to follow along. It was always me; I was the mistake. You, you were always the miracle.
Miracle? Luna’s small hands raise up like she is praising hallelujah. No one notices her, and I even find myself not caring who does. Because even in her exposure, we are linked. Observing another side, we try to keep hidden.
My feet are moving, and I am too damn curious to know the backstory. I plop myself down across from Luna and knock on the table twice.
Luna opens her eyes, wondering why I am still here. Half the time, I question the very same thing.
You okay?
Another nod, still staring beyond me.
So, who died? I sign it like I’m supposed to, she offers a kind acknowledgment in my effort.
“My parents?” Her lips shape out the words.
“Are you unsure they are or not?” Leaning closer over the table.
“No, unsure why you’re asking?” Again, Luna backs herself out of the situation.
“Just thought you might need someone to talk to since you are signing to an empty chair.”
“My friend, Lea, was supposed to come by after work. She canceled.”
“Were you telling her about her parents? Is she deaf, is that why you were signing?”
“No, she isn’t. I was signing to my daughter, she’s deaf.”
I grab the drink in front of her and take a few swallows before I place it back on the table.
“I didn’t know you were a mother.”
“I’m not, I wasn’t.”
“How’s that work out, Luna?”
Eyes are so expressive, they tell you all the secrets and insecurities. Luna tries to cover something before blinking it away. Biting her bottom lip and shakes her head.
“What do you want, Asher? If it’s about sex, I’m not in the mood right now. As you can see, I’m in the middle of an event.”
“Not everybody is after something from you, Luna. Maybe I am a person who sees a person who also needs a companion. We are both trying to wake up tomorrow feeling better.” It’s then I leave an open-faced palm, meeting her halfway. Allowing her to take it.
She considers her options, doesn’t take my hand but a breath as she begins uncovering her past.
“I didn't go to college or drop out of high school because I was pregnant. No, that happened in the early teen years. I was 14, Lennox, he was 19.”
Motherfucker. The squint of her eyes wait to see me react. I take another sip of the drink between us. Forcing myself not to interrupt. But, God, seriously 19 with a 14-year-old?
“He never questioned if it was his, but of course we both know it was. He never asked what happened to the baby. He didn't ask to see her either. By the time she was born, he already had a 5-year-old little girl, and a pair of 12-month-old twins.” As she continues, she stops looking over at me to see if I’m going to make an outburst.
What kind of fucking shit is this? 4 kids by the time you are 20? Whoever you are, man, I bet you are hurting when it comes to child support.
“We weren’t dating or anything. I was a troubled kid who hung out with an older crew. Rebecca, his girlfriend, passed away that same year I got pregnant. The twins were a couple months old, their mother was harassing Rebecca pretty severely.” Luna says Rebecca and her head lowers in rememberance.
Three baby mama’s if my math is correct. Still doesn’t explain where her daughter’s been.
“Soon, after I told my parents and she was born, they decided to raise her as their own.” Tears fumble out the corners of her eyes, “I was young, didn’t know what choices I had, if I could even take care of another person, let alone a baby.”
My body sits next to hers, and I put an arm around her, bringing her so close we feel each other’s heartbeats.
“They never liked me. If there was one good thing I ever did for them, it was having Olallie be the daughter they gained redemption.”
“Only child?” Pushing her hair back behind her ear.
“No, 3 older sisters. They are older than me by 10-15 years.”
“Soon, I stopped going to school. My grandma let me stay with her, but eventually, I was just lost. I stopped going over to Knox’s house, every time I looked at his face, I saw hers, and it was too beautiful to avoid. The other morning I went to tell him the parents I knew had been swept away. I was given back our daughter, that I was finally going to be her mother. Finally, I got this chance to claim my purpose.”
“I know, darlin’, I know.”
“He looked so at ease, peaceful even. His face reflecting hers, like when I saw Olallie for the first time. He didn't hold the silence, not like I passed down to her. Sometimes I envied the way my real mother and father couldn't hear the outside world. A part of me wished I could forget the mumbles as the person over the phone relayed to me of the situation at hand and the opportunity to make things right even if I was wrong.”
People started bunching together as the bar met its capacity. Still, she held firm, unphased by the audience.
“Bad news was that both my parents were deaf and struggled to handle a toddler they couldn't hear, even though signing came as a beautiful language for me.”
“A daughter I always tried to stay close to. But now at 7, the parents she knew were gone, because nature was cruel and eventually you get replaced.”
“What’s her name? Your daughter’s name?”
“Olallie.” She spells it out on her fingers and then motions to the top of her head. “I call her my halo.”
“When do you get her?”
“Monday.”
“Well, we have the weekend to prepare.”
“Prepare for what?”
“For your daughter to finally come home and meet her mother.” My hand rested around her neck as she rounded her arms at my hips. We walked out of there and into a new realm, guns blazing and explosions left behind us.
Chapter 9
LUNA
“Do you think this is a good idea?” I stand back at the entrance of what is about to be her bedroom.
Asher stayed the entire weekend. We watched movies and laughed, we didn’t get freaky until last night again.
He finishes hanging the curtain rod, before he turns to me, grinning.
“Why are you always smiling like that? You’ve had the same look on your face since last week.”
“Luna, calm down. Yes, I’ve only known you for a few months, but I think you are going to rock this. It might be your best screw up yet. Just think of all the possibilities of everything that could go wrong.” I elbow him hard in the gut as he gives me a side hug.
“Whoa, baby girl. A little lower, and you would have hit something very precious to me.” Gripping my elbow as he bumps me back into the door.
“I didn’t know men kept their hearts in their pants, I thought there was only room for their brains.”
“Funny, Luna Lovett.” A few shaggy hairs fall into his eyes as he bends his head toward me.
“Is it like a fanny pack sort of storage down there? Is there a zipper or a lock and key? Oh my God, is that where you guys hide your souls? Neat trick, bro!” I’m nervous and not about the man in front of me who is undressing me and bending me over with his eyes.
“Bro? I’m not your bro, baby. What’s got you all frazzled? How can I help you relax?” His nose nuzzles on my neck, and I let him lead me to my bedroom.
I choose not to tell him why my insecurities are too true to be incorrect.
As he removes my shirt over my head, I try to remove the doubt that stings me like a hornet, angry at existing.
We both reach for our pants, and our fingers un
zip, unbuckle, detach from valid reasons for cold nights and midnight whispers.
Naked.
A breathing male body in front of me is eager with performance. The female body mirroring his, my chest rises up and down, with a bounce of breasts. They aren’t afraid, and excitement builds, and I hold my balance to pretend that I can be desirable.
There is a strand of carpet, strayed on the floor. It bends, swift with the breeze from the fan. Out of place, out of the consequence of belonging.
“Luna, are you with me?”
“I’m here, I’m with you, Asher.” Our voices are lost in the forming of cells connecting, the brush through crisp sheets and fallen walls.
~
We arrive half an hour early. For whatever reason, we are joined today. Lea offered to come, but I said I wanted to do this on my own. Except, Asher didn’t get the hint. Asher who is currently on the phone leaning against the car.
Anxiety came over me, sleep was not my master last night, the car is lemon fresh clean. My outfit neutral, for some fucked up reason, I feel collected. I stare at the house, remaining patient for the door to open.
Counting the minutes until I come face to face with the perfect human I created. My hand finds its way to my flat stomach. Time has passed, yet I remember the familiar kicks reminding we were in this life together.
“Here she comes, Luna.” When I look over to Asher, he stares where my hand was holding the ghost of my pregnant belly.
“Halo…” It falls from my lips. No word has ever been so pure. She looks around, and the social worker points to me a few yards away.
Her blonde curls remind me of Lennox, but I see the shape of her face, and there were hidden gems that were possessed from me.
Our eyes meet, the overwhelming feeling hits like a shockwave. So surreal, I can’t move, the bond between mother and daughter resurrected.
Olallie runs, she runs, and I curtsy down on my knees and open arms so wide I could never miss her. A smile dances up to her face, pinching her cheeks—a gap in her front teeth from a missing tooth.
Mint green bows clip back her hair, but I see the rebellion. The wild spirit, her dirty patched knees, and roughed up shoes.