Stalking the Moon

by Angel Leigh McCoy

  A pharmaceutical fog obscured my thoughts. The only person who called me that was Ajani.

  He gave me a little shake. “Miss Viviane?”

  I forced my eyelids open, just a crack.

  “Miss Viviane?”

  “Ajani?”

  “Rough day?”

  “Rough…couple…months,” I said, my voice hoarse and soft. “Today…you’re pain.”

  “Tomorrow,” Ajani responded, “just a stain.”

  I fought the effects of the sedative, took a deep breath and blinked wide.

  Ajani's expressive face came into focus, his dark brown eyes warm, full lips curved into a smile. He said, “Listen, I can’t stay long. I wanted to see you and make sure you were okay. I heard what happened.”

  “I have…to ask you…a question.”

  “About what?”

  “Colin.” I watched him as I said the name, working hard to focus my eyes.

  Ajani didn’t even flinch. Instead, he brought the chair over by the bed. “If it’s gonna be that conversation,” he said, “I better sit down. What do you wanna know?”

  I waited until he was settled next to me, nestled up against the bed with his long, sculpted arm resting beside me, his hand on my shoulder.

  He looked me in the eyes, and I met his gaze head-on.

  I asked, “You knew they were going to release him?”

  Ajani inhaled sharply, exhaled, inhaled again, and finally said, “Can’t get nothing by you, huh?” He patted my shoulder, tone light. “Well, I don’t reckon it matters at this point. You deserve an explanation.”

  “Tell me.”

  “We were gonna tell you, I’m swearing, but that accident fucked everything up. After that, it was just never the right time.”

  “Tell me what?”

  Ajani said, “Colin started remembering his life before coming here.”

  “And?”

  “Thing is, Viviane, what he was remembering wasn’t stuff he could tell just anybody. He…um...had enemies, if you know what I mean.”

  I shook my head against the pillow. “Enemies? What kind of enemies?”

  “The kind that kill.”

  Viviane heard derision in his voice, scorn for Colin’s enemies.

  “What? The mafia?”

  “You could say that.” Ajani swept the back of his long-fingered hand across his forehead. His palm was several shades lighter than the rest of him, a moon flying across the night sky. “We were getting him ready to go underground. If the people looking for him had found him, they’d have killed him.”

  “What about the accident? Was someone…trying to kill us?”

  Ajani shrugged. “All that matters is you’re okay.”

  “But…what about Colin?”

  Ajani cleared his throat and watched his own fingers pet my shoulder. He said nothing for long enough that I repeated the question.

  “What…about…Colin?”

  “Colin has gone to a better place.”

  My emotions began to boil. My voice took on a manic edge as I said, “What does that mean? No, he’s not dead.”

  “You have to let him go, Viviane." He hung his head, the wide expanse of his brown forehead toward me. I realized he couldn't look at me as, confident and deadly serious, he said, "You’ll never see him again.”

  My face became a font of pain. Tears and snot both welled at the same time. I blubbered. “No! He’s not dead. I know he’s not.”

  When Ajani lifted his head, his eyes held the sadness of a thousand dying suns. He rested his hand on my forehead, and his thumb gently stroked the spot between my eyes.

  “Shhhh,” he said. “It’s going to be okay. He’s never coming back. If you look for him, those people will notice you, and you’ll be in danger. Colin wouldn’t want that. You have to let him go.”

  “What? No. I...can’t.”

  “Yes, girl, you can. You’re strong. Do it because you love him and because he loved you.”

  I threw back the covers, ready to rage around the room.

  Ajani’s lips formed the words, “Sovran, jélènedra.” A vanilla-scented cloud drifted down upon me, and my consciousness slipped away.

  ♦♦♦

  CHAPTER 22

  You have to let him go.

  I awoke in bed with the residue of sedation chemistry in my mouth and nostrils.

  Simon said, “I leave you alone for five minutes, and all Hell breaks loose.”

  I had neither the strength nor desire to ignore him. I was stalking the moon.

  I croaked the words, “It’s not my fault.”

  “I know it’s not, missy.”

  “She tried to kill me again.”

  His voice moved close to my cheek, soft and gentle. “That’s why I came back.”

  “I’m starting to think you know more than you’re letting on. I’m starting to think everyone does—except me.”

  He said, “You’ve always had a—”

  I finished the last part with him, “—very active imagination,” and added, “I know.”

  Kicking off the covers, I rolled to sitting and rubbed my face. I ran my hands through my hair and worked the last lingering bit of fog out of my brain. My brainstem ached.

  Simon's voice was right beside me. “We need to get you out of this place.”

  I couldn’t have agreed more. I reached out to Simon, or to where his voice originated, but my hand passed through open air, touching nothing. I immediately felt foolish for almost believing again. “Is the hag a figment of my imagination too?”

  He didn’t answer.

  “Simon? Tell me what’s going on.”

  “I…" he paused. "I… Uh…”

  I’d never heard Simon at a loss for words. “What’s the matter?”

  He sighed, and the sound moved down to the foot of the bed. “Viviane, there are thresholds in this world. Some you cross naturally. Some, not so much. Once you breach them, you can’t turn back. These thresholds change you as you pass through them, and when they change you, they change your world. Some are man-made, like marriage and divorce. Others are physical. Breaking the hymen and conception, for example. Then there are mental ones, such as the understanding that Santa Claus doesn’t really exist. You can never come back once you've passed through an emotional threshold like your first broken heart. There are evolutionary thresholds, consciousness thresholds, and dimensional thresholds.”

  A chill made my shoulders clench. “What the fuck are you talking about?”

  “You ask questions, but I’m not sure you want the answers. Your reality is sacrosanct. It’s not cool to fuck with Mother Nature.”

  “I don’t understand.”

  “Of course, you don’t. If you did, this wouldn’t be a problem.”

  My eyes wandered. The biggest challenge of talking to someone I couldn’t see had always been where to put my eyes. I wanted to look at him, but there was nothing to see. That produced a conflict in my mind that felt uncomfortable and created discord. So, I looked at my hands or the walls, anything but the location of the voice.

  I asked, “What problem?”

  “Your reality cherry, lass. Once it’s popped, there’s no going back. Gone for good. Poof. A distant memory. A friend long lost and sorely missed. And, trust me when I say it’s never much fun the first time.”

  “Just tell me.”

  Simon huffed. “Your mother’s going to kill me for this.”

  “My mother? What’s she—”

  Somebody knocked on the door.

  “Saved by the knock.” Simon retreated.

  I told him, “We’re not done.” And then shouted, “Come in!”

  Richard entered and moved to stand beside the bed. He looked down at me with his upset face. I thought I must have been looking back at him with mine as well.

  “My flight got in last night. They told me what happened as soon as I got here.” He sat down beside me. “I’m back now. Everything’s going to be okay.”

  I blurted my thou
ghts. “Colin’s not dead.”

  He didn’t immediately respond.

  “He called me.”

  “I see.” He used that patronizing tone that meant This is another symptom that I need to document.

  “No you don’t.” I looked him in the eyes the same way he did me when he was in serious mode. “Colin called me on my cell phone.”

  Richard paused only a moment before saying, “That’s impossible. Think about it. A dead person cannot make a phone call.”

  “Colin’s. Not. Dead.”

  Richard gripped my upper arm as if he were on the verge of shaking me. “Yes, he is. He’s dead. He’s been cremated. His body is in an urn at my house.”

  “I don’t think so. That’s somebody else. Let me show you.” I pushed him away so I could get off the bed, but he pushed back.

  “Don’t get up. You need to rest.”

  “I’ve rested enough,” I insisted, starting to get angry. “If you’ll just listen to me, I can show you. I found—”

  Richard interrupted me. “Viviane, stop talking. Now is not the time to discuss this. I’m going to give you something that’ll help.”

  I knew what that meant. That meant he was going to increase my dosage. I’d made a mistake, and I started backpedaling. “You know, I am kind of tired. I think I’m still in shock or something. I—So you heard about what happened in the shower?”

  Richard relaxed with the change of subject and didn’t seem in such a hurry to write a new prescription. “I heard.”

  “It was horrible.”

  “I can imagine. Do you remember what upset you?”

  “No,” I lied. With the threat of drugs hanging over my head, I was in no hurry to tell him that I’d seen a misty ghost bitch climb down the wall.

  I felt sick to my stomach again.

  Richard said, “We’ll talk about it this afternoon, in our session, okay?”

  “Thanks.”

  He headed for the door. “I have an appointment, but is there anything you need before I go?”

  “I need to see Colin’s body.”

  His eyebrows went up, and he thought about it for a second. “All right. I think that’s a good idea. I’ll bring his ashes with me tomorrow.”

  “No. I mean, I need to see his body. Detective Hayward has pictures. I want to see them, but he won’t show me unless you give him permission.”

  That surprised Richard so much he turned his back to me to hide his reaction. He didn’t say anything immediately, and when he did, it was noncommittal. “I need to think about that, Viviane.”

  I knew better than to pressure him. “Okay.”

  “I’ll come back later and check on you.”

  He slipped out and closed the door behind him.

  After he'd left, Simon said, “I’m sorry I wasn’t here when you were attacked. I’d have twisted its scrawny neck until its head popped off.” He moved around the bed. “Now that we’re on its radar, it won’t stop until it has destroyed all the special children.”

  “The special children?”

  “The moonstruck. People who can see and hear things no one else can, because they—for one reason or another—have magick in their blood. You, my dear, are one of those.”

  “Moonstruck? You're crazy.”

  “That’s what most people would think, but most people are deaf and blind to the toe-tickling, ball-constricting wonders of the cosmos.”

  I rolled my back to him. “You sound like that science fiction geek I went to junior prom with.”

  Simon chuckled. “Ernie Hapsbaum. I almost forgot about that kid. I got a kick out of him. He had a unique way of looking at life, considering he was a Normal.”

  Corona slipped into the room and hurried over to the bed. She crawled up on the bed beside me, and we just held each other.

  I asked, “How are you feeling?”

  “Me? How are you feeling? I heard the hag came after you again.”

  “Yeah. In the shower.”

  “God, that is so cliché. Although I suppose it could be worse. She could have attacked you while you were on the toilet.”

  “Don’t even say that! I’m freaked out enough as it is.”

  “Me too,” added Simon.

  With a quiet snort, Corona asked, “What do you have to be freaked about? The hag’s not trying to kill you.”

  “Yes, she is,” I said. “She’s tried twice now.”

  “Not you. Him.”

  I figured she meant Colin. “Technically, in the stairwell, it was after Colin, but in the hospital and the shower, it was definitely after me.”

  Corona shook her head. “No, no, no. I mean Simon. It’s not trying to kill him.”

  “If it could see me,” Simon replied, “it’d be on me like greed on a politician.”

  I pulled back to look at Corona’s face. She was starkly serious.

  “What did you just say?” I asked.

  She blinked at me. “It wouldn’t dare attack Simon. He’s more powerful than it’ll ever be.”

  Simon said, “Aw, golly, girl. Aren’t you all sugar and spice and everything nice. If only that were true.”

  I couldn’t believe my ears. “Who told you about Simon?”

  Corona replied, “Nobody. He introduced himself to me when I first came here.”

  “Huh?” I said.

  “Hear that?” said Simon. “That’s the sound of cherries poppin'.”

  Corona petted my shoulder as Simon continued, “Corona, baby, she thought she had me all to herself. The truth is, Viviane, I have a lot of friends. A lot. I’m a popular guy.”

  I focused my attention on Corona. “My mom told you about him, didn’t she, in one of her stories.”

  Corona snuggled against me. “Nope. She never mentioned him. She wouldn’t. He’s her secret protector. If she knew he was such a schizo slut, she’d probably punish him.”

  Simon objected, “I’m not a schizo slut. Well, maybe I am, but Gisèle would never punish me. She loves me. She trusts me.”

  Corona nodded, her cheek rubbing my arm. “It’s true. And that's the only reason I trust you.”

  In that moment, right there, I realized that Corona had answered Simon. She had said something in direct reply to him. Coincidence had not toyed with my perception of reality. No one was pretending.

  She had to have heard him.

  Corona had heard Simon, which meant everything else she had said was probably true as well. She knew him and had known him for years, which meant I had known him for years.

  My mouth moved, but no words came out. I thought I might faint.

  Corona said, “You've stepped onto the Olympus Stairway whether you meant to or not.”

  I grabbed Corona’s forearm. “Can you see him?”

  “No, goddammit. He’s never shown himself to me.”

  “Nobody can see me,” Simon said. “I’m under strict orders to remain invisible while I’m here. The last thing we need is some faux schizo seeing me and having a panic attack.”

  “Oh yeah,” I said, sarcasm sharp. “That’s the last thing we need, because hearing your disembodied voice isn’t creepy at all.” I had doubts exploding all over my brain, leaving black char marks. “I’m hallucinating you both.” It was the only explanation that made sense.

  “Don’t be dumb,” said Corona. “Here. I’ll show you.” She pinched my belly. Hard.

  “Ow!” I squirmed away from her. “That hurt!”

  “See?”

  From the end of the bed, Simon said, “You’re not hallucinating either of us, darling, and you never have hallucinated me. Welcome to the tea party, Alice.”

  Corona said, “There is no spoon.”

  I sat staring at Corona, then at the empty spot that was Simon, then at Corona again. My mind was trying to finish a sentence, but it kept getting stuck on the last word.

  Aloud, I said, “If I’m not hallucinating you, then that means you’re… That means you’re… You’re…”

  Corona finished it f
or me. “Real.”

  Simon offered, “Full of awesome.”

  Corona said, “Yeah,” and rolled onto her back, kicking her legs in the air.

  The room spun around me.

  “Breathe,” commanded Simon.

  Corona grabbed the back of my neck and bent me forward. “Put your head between your knees. Are you gonna puke?”

  I focused on breathing and not puking.

  Gradually, the shock faded.

  “Oh my god, oh my god,” I said. “All this fucking time.”

  “Duh,” said Simon. “You’ve been working hard to deny it, what with all your schedules and refusing to talk to me for so long. Though, I suppose it’s for the best. If you hadn’t convinced yourself I was a hallucination, you probably would have tried to convince Dr. Dick I was real, and you’d have ended up in here a long time ago.”

  “What are you?” I asked.

  “You talking to me or her?”

  That confused me even more. “Both, I guess.”

  Simon said, “Ladies first.”

  Corona tilted her head to one side. “I’m a faux schizo, like you. I can see stuff other people can’t. According to Jake, there’s a concentration of us in places like the Center, because Normals think we’re crazy. Heck, half the time we think we’re crazy. Sometimes, we really are. Between the meds, the psychotherapy, and the institutions, we usually do go crazy.” She turned the conversation over to Simon with her hand palm up.

  Simon said, “I’m a parachutist. I dropped in from perpendicular.”

  “From perpendicular?” I asked.

  “Yeah, you know—a pocket universe, another realm, a galaxy far far away.”

  My skepticism was rearing its head, but I went with it. “Okay. Why?”

  “Why did I come here? To keep an eye on you.”

  “On me?”

  Simon’s tone turned noble. “Your mother asked me to, and I’d do anything for her.”

  Corona cleared her throat.

  Simon said, “Too much too soon?”

  Corona nodded.

  My mind was icing over. “Jesus. I should have let Richard increase my meds.”

  Simon said, “There aren’t enough meds in the world to stop this train now that you've crossed the threshold, so you’d better get ready for a few revelations.”