The Boys Who Danced With the Moon

by Mark Paul Oleksiw

  Silently, I inched forward and was sure he must have heard my footsteps or my heavy breath. He didn’t budge. He continued to move from side to side.

  I glanced at him from head to toe when I noticed it. He had a royal blue spring windbreaker on. I could barely tell if he had shoes on. Looked like he was wearing a long black thing like a dress beneath his jacket. Oh, great! A freak. A real freak. Now I started worrying about being alone out here with him.

  “Nice jacket,” a soft voice quietly said. So quiet that I could barely hear. “What kind is it?”

  “Umm but, like, no offense. Who are you? I got to get going. I’m already late for class.” I reached up and took the jacket off the fence and put it on.

  “I guess I’m late, too. I’ll follow you, then, so I know where to go.”

  “I’ve never seen you before.”

  He looked at me, almost laughing, and then turned to face the school. His eyes grew small as he peered at the building. He turned to me with a silly look in his eyes. “I’m new. I guess I got caught daydreaming. Gets me in trouble all the time. My aunt warned me about that.”

  “You’re the newbie, I guess.”

  “No, I’ve been around a long time. Probably as long as you. Just because you don’t know me doesn’t make me new.”

  “Don’t be a smartass. You know what I meant. Where are you from, besides outer space?”

  He started laughing. “You’re not the first to say that. Outer space. That is kind of funny, actually. Like, maybe the moon. Only I’m not that old. Still, it is a nice jacket.”

  “Yes, it is, thanks. I got it this summer. It’s a war jacket. Kind of like the ones they wore in World War Two.”

  “You mean a fighter pilot jacket. I read a lot about them. It’s almost exactly like an RAF fighter jacket. It even has a sheep wool collar. It’s cool. Is it your dad’s or grandad’s?”

  “No. They didn’t fight in that war. I bought it this summer. It’s not real.” I slowly started walking back to school as I was speaking, as if to lead him there. I had a feeling he would have stayed near the fence all morning otherwise. “Truth is, it isn’t the jacket I really wanted. I just couldn’t afford the other one. What’s your story?”

  “My aunt and I just moved here from out west. We lived near the desert. Never saw snow before. I’m so excited for next winter. I live with my aunt, always have.”

  “Snow you will see. Don’t worry about that. I live a couple of blocks that way,” I said, pointing past the fields beyond the fence. “I cut across those fields to get to school each day.”

  “Great. I live not too far, Willow Ridge Road.”

  This character lived a few blocks from me. Luckily, he lived on the opposite side of the park. Now that I told him of the shortcut through the fields, he might follow me home one day. I started shaking my head.

  “You seem to be worried. Maybe it’s your first day? Are you nervous, too?”

  I caught myself enjoying the discussion and started to laugh. “Don’t be nervous. I’m not—just worried ’cause we’re late, that’s all. It’s a good school and most of the kids are cool.”

  I stopped walking at that point as my curiosity got the better of me. “What are you wearing under your jacket? I sincerely hope that is not a dress.”

  He started laughing. “Why would you think it’s a dress? Just because it’s long. No. It is, without a doubt, a Jesuit robe.”

  “Seriously. Is that not like a priest thing; how would you get one?”

  “Been in my family for years. One of my ancestors was a priest who came over from Europe and settled here. Came to convert people. When I moved here, my grandma gave it to me as a gift. I guess one of my ancestors didn’t like the cold and moved where it was warm, and left it behind.”

  “Wow. You know it’s not as bad as I thought. That’s a pretty cool story, but, like, aren’t you scared of ruining it or losing it? Like, shouldn’t it be in a museum?”

  He look at me, puzzled. “You know my aunt said the same thing when my grandma pulled it out. My grandma said it probably was good luck to whoever wore it back then, especially coming to the New World, and it would be a waste not to wear it, especially since it’s pretty warm.”

  “What about your parents?”

  “My dad disappeared when I was young; my mom was too young to raise me on her own.”

  “Sorry. I didn’t mean to pry like that.”

  “Don’t be sad.” He could see the worried look in my eyes. “Be happy. My aunt adopted me.” But even though he smiled at me, I could detect some melancholy in his voice.

  As I looked at his face, I could see clear blue eyes shining innocently below the long black bangs of his hair. His nose was small and pointed. He looked no more than thirteen or fourteen. He turned his head briefly at the chirp of a robin building her nest nearby, and I could see a greenish mark on his cheek. A bruise. One that was slowly fading away and surely the size of a fist.

  “Who hit you?” I pointed to his cheek, almost close enough to touch it.

  “This little bruise? I had a disagreement with someone at my old school, and, well, he was not happy with me.”

  “Not happy with you…He punched you. He obviously hit you.”

  “I guess you could say that. I didn’t want to get him in trouble because sometimes I say things I shouldn’t and people get mad at me.” He shook his head dejectedly as if admitting some great personal failure.

  “Whatever could you have said to make someone hit you? It’s not like you’re much of a physical threat. No offense.”

  “He was talking about something in science class. I tried to set him straight.”

  “Really. Do continue.”

  “Well, I told him that everything is in our minds and that dreams are real. They do happen. Just in another place. There are millions of these other places, by the way.”

  “Again, really,” I said half-laughingly yet, somehow genuinely interested. “I don’t get why he would punch you for saying that.”

  “He called me weird and said I dressed like a girl.” His voice got low as his eyes began blinking rapidly.

  “Sorry, I didn’t mean to offend you about your clothes. But I don’t think you can wear your cloak, so to speak, to class, though.”

  “Did you think I would wear this to class? No, I’ll take it off as soon as I have my locker. I just like it because it belonged to someone who lived long before me. Also, it tends to break the ice,” he said, smiling. I could see his hand pop out from under the robe and make its way through the sleeve of his windbreaker. “I’m Andrew. Nice to meet you.”

  “My name is Kiran, and it is nice to meet you—even if we are ten minutes late on your first day.”

  “Now you have to show me where I have to go next.”

  ***

  At lunchtime, I could see this new kid circle the cafeteria with his food tray, not knowing where to sit. However, he didn’t seem to care.

  He was in one of my classes. The teacher had a helluva time even getting to his last name as Andrew interrupted her with a long history of his fourteen-year life and how much he looked forward to teaching us all. Correction, he promised not to teach us. Originally, it was what I thought I heard. When I thought about it, I realized he said something different. I should make a particular point of that. He promised to “awaken us.”

  I sat in what was now my customary spot, usually at the end of the long table against the wall and directly across from Marius. The place was partially hidden from view, which is why he liked it so much. Sometimes he actually smoked in the cafeteria, the only kid who would dare do that in the building. I could see the new kid having a hard time making a decision. He looked like a bird whose wing was clipped and not so much looking where to land as to crash.

  “Andy! Andy! There’s a spot over here next to me.”

  Ma
rius looked up at me, obviously surprised at my tone. He looked back over his shoulder and saw Andrew.

  “Spaceman priest. You’re inviting him to eat with us. I heard the guy was wearing a dress this morning.”

  “Not a dress. A cloak. Like the one a spiritual missionary wore. A shaman. Kind of like a Jim Morrison type.” I was making it up as I went along.

  Marius was grinning at me and rolling his eyes at same time.

  “Seriously. The kid has no friends. He totally is all right.” I had to get Marius’s buy-in fast. “He worships the moon. He’s into some cult stuff, I think.” It was as egregious a lie as I had ever spoken. I knew it was Marius, of course, so in his world, this could be the truth, for all I knew.

  Marius’s look of utter disbelief at the sight of this eccentric child was indescribable. I could see him studying Andy, presumably looking for weakness. I watched his eyes move from foot to head, and head to foot again. It was almost as though a flash went off and Marius’s eyes focused in on Andy’s face and honed in on his cheeks. It was the bruise. The faded evidence of violence.

  Now I could see Marius’s facial expression change. Nothing intrigued Marius more than someone who was off the wall. His expression was much deeper than intrigue. I could see his lips purse at the sight of tarnished cheek and his eyes blinked in a sympathetic symphony of movement. He was clearly unnerved and quickly caught himself when he noticed my stare out of the corner of his eye.

  “He’s a moon worshipper?”

  “Yes. He loves the night, kind of like a . . .”

  “Don’t say vampire. Now I know you’re putting me on.”

  I started to chuckle and then got serious as Marius’s face grimaced at my attempt to gain favor for a stranger. “C’mon. He doesn’t know anyone here. You owe me for last chemistry test.”

  “Frick. You keep bringing that up. You got an eighty-nine percent, not a hundred. I could hardly see half your answers. Stop wearing those fucking high-collared shirts.”

  “You owe me!”

  “All right.” I could tell, though, he was not going to let this go easily.

  Thomas and Dale came over and tried to take their spots next to us. Marius put out his hand like a stop sign for Thomas.

  “What the fuck? Let me sit. I’m starving.”

  Marius looked up and stared at Thomas. “I’m saving a seat for my new friend.”

  Thomas looked next to him and could see Andy standing to wait for him to move so he could sit.

  “You’re serious.”

  Marius got up and grabbed Andy hard around the collar and pulled him into the seat. He then looked at the rest of the table and put one foot up on his seat.

  “Everyone, say hello to my new friend, Moony.”

  The cafeteria table looked in horror as Andy half stumbled off his chair, trying to decipher who “Moony” was. I quickly leaned over to him and told him his new name was “Moony.” Andy looked up at me with his big blue eyes and a wide grin extending from ear to ear. “I like the moon. From now on, I am Moony!” he declared.

  Marius slapped down hard on Moony’s back with an open hand. “Well, Moony. How has your day gone so far? It’s been awhile since we last spoke.”

  Moony sat there clueless. As far as I knew, they had never met. He now had something that was worth gold. He was in with Marius. Thomas and Dale had seen their spots in the pecking order drop dramatically.

  Marius looked over at me while plunging a giant sandwich into his mouth. He raised his finger at me. “No more high-collared shirts on exam days. I can’t see over them. Last warning.”

  CHAPTER 12

  Pauley High School underwent a substantial transformation in the early days of April. The snow had fully melted, the blooming of flowers along the slopes of Shep’s Hill and the sound of birds building nests all around heralded the beginning of a new cycle. From our classroom, we could hear the roar of the Pauley River finally flowing unencumbered for the first time in months. For us students, it meant two things: The school year was nearing a conclusion, and we were now allowed to leave the school building and go outside at lunch. This edict caused great delight to the smokers. Such was their world.

  Meanwhile, Moony’s presence in school, while lacking the volatility of Marius’s, had a subtle impact. Moony quickly became the school’s endangered species, but also came under Marius’s protection. Marius took him under his broad, sheltering wings. It was Marius who, during Moony’s first week in school, conscripted a fellow student to sew onto Moony’s cloak a patch, shaped like the moon.

  Moony earned his patch during his first month with us. His interrupting of teachers to clarify their points, his monologues about world issues totally outside of the context of the class lesson, and his “Moony vision,” as we called it, were entertaining. Moony, in particular, was the superstar of our comparative religion class. Moony believed that everything in life was an illusion and that we all existed in each other’s minds. Our reality, as he described it, was the result of the intersection of the waves of each person’s consciousness. There was no difference between dreaming and being awake. It was all one in the same. Perhaps no student in the history of Pauley High School had been so equally reviled in both science and religion classes. His fellow students, myself included, took great delight in the mental gymnastics we watched our teachers perform trying to put out the fires Moony naively set to their lesson plans. If the chaos of Moony wasn’t enough, a magnifier was omnipresent. Marius would often raise his hand shortly after a Moony lesson to say, “Sir. Can Andy please repeat what he just said, as I didn’t quite understand it the first time?” Perhaps I didn’t realize it at the time; Moony may have been the finest performance artist I ever met.

  Seniors would pass by my locker to ask me about Moony. Was he a prodigy? Was he a Russian KGB agent? Was he secretly a fifty-year-old NASA scientist? Was he a prophet? Some of these questions were asked only partially jokingly. Moony was just Moony. A fourteen-year-old with an insatiable curiosity and childlike wonder of the world. I rarely grew tired of his wandering thoughts.

  We were within the realm of the locker bay area when the announcement came that we would be allowed to go outside for lunch that day. Marius sighed as he surveyed the clock. He wouldn’t have to sneak a smoke in the boys’ bathroom. We congregated at lunchtime, sitting in our accustomed spots amongst the rows and rows of cafeteria tables. Most ate fast and took off for the outdoors. I sat still, Moony next to me awaiting my cue, as the rest of the table got up to go outside. Marius started walking ahead with Thomas and the rest of the gang close behind when he noticed Moony and me staying put. He told the rest of the group to go out ahead of him.

  “C’mon guys. You can yap outside all you want. Let’s go!” He declared it in his field general voice. I looked at Marius plaintively with a hint of wistfulness, hoping he would move on without further intimidation. No such luck. What Marius didn’t understand was that I was still an outsider to the majority of the group. They didn’t invite me, and to them, I was still a geek who didn’t smoke or drink. I was still the kid in the dorky shirts his mom picked out. My oversized fighter jacket and my friendship with Marius were my saving grace.

  “No. Seriously, Marius. Go on without us. We’ll stay and shoot some baskets or get some homework done in the library.” The minute the last syllable came out, I could see the color rush to Marius’s cheeks. Moony clearly saw it as well, since he slowly pushed back in his chair, trying to make himself invisible.

  “The fucking library. You cannot be serious. We can go out now and have some fun at lunch. Do your studying at home on your time!”

  “Thanks, Marius. I just don’t think they want me around them. They know I don’t smoke, and you know they talk about girls.” I was now whispering and forced Marius to lean forward to hear. “I don’t have any experience with girls. I don’t want them teasing me.”

  “
Scared to be teased?! I tease you all the time.”

  “That’s different. I know you don’t mean it. I’d just be standing there like a plant.”

  Marius stopped short of his next words and was clearly thinking. “I see your point. Listen, do you have a ghetto blaster, a radio with a tape deck at home?”

  “Yeah, I do. A good one, too.”

  “Bring it tomorrow. None of these clowns have one that they can bring. We need to have some music outside.”

  “Okay,” I said nervously. “You’ll bring some tapes?” I asked.

  “I have the usual stuff: The Who, Zappa, Zeppelin, The Doors, The Clash.” He went through his mental list and then looked at me with a grin. “I’m not bringing any of that, though. You bring what you listen to.”

  “What I have at home is different.”

  “So long as it’s not Liberace, we’re good. Is it rock?”

  “Yeah. It’s new stuff, though. I’m not sure those guys will like it.”

  “You like it, though?”

  “Yes. I listen to it all the time.”

  “So bring it and stop being difficult. I’ll go out and tell them that, beginning tomorrow, you are the musical director. They’ll have cool music outside. Everyone will be happy.”

  “Okay, I suppose.” My words slowly slithered back down my throat. It quickly became apparent I made a massive commitment.

  “Great.” He quickly turned and raced outside, an unlit cigarette already dangling from his mouth.

  Moony leaned over to me. “Am I allowed outside with you guys tomorrow?”

  “For sure, Moony,” I said, clearly distracted by the task at hand. Moony picked up on my discomfort immediately.

  “Why are you so nervous? Are you not allowed to bring your radio to school?”

  “No, Moony. I can bring the radio. I’m just not sure they’ll like the music I bring. These guys are all into that sixties and seventies rock stuff.”

  “So, it is the eighties. I’m sure they’ll still listen to it.”

  “It’s just not stuff you hear on the commercial radio stations. I tape a lot off an obscure radio station I sometimes like to listen to. Kind of on the far left of the dial.”