The Summer of Moonlight Secrets

by Danette Haworth

  “Okay, okay,” I say. I put my Italian ice on her platter, then walk the same path she did, but Jennifer doesn’t move for me.

  “Um, excuse me,” I mumble.

  “Oh,” she says, casting her eyes on me the same way you’d look at your shoe if you stepped in dog poop.

  That just makes me mad. I glance backward at Tara, who looks at me encouragingly.

  Here goes nothing. “I see you got your hair cut,” I say.

  She shakes her hair out. “Thank you,” she says, but I don’t remember giving a compliment.

  “I love Tara’s hair, don’t you?” I ask.

  “Totally.” She leans out to smile at Tara.

  “Thank you,” I say, watching as her face draws into confusion. “I cut it.”

  Her lips part and her eyes widen.

  Well! I’ve never seen her speechless. I wait for a second, then turn to Chase and say, “We better get back to work.”

  And with that, I pass on through and ask Chef to load my platter.

  I lean against the table as I wait on him. I cannot believe what I’ve just done. Sneaking a glance over my shoulder, I see Jennifer and them leave. Whew. Wait till Melanie hears about this! One small step for girl; one giant leap for girlkind.

  “You need to refill your platter,” I say to Chase on my way back.

  “Yes, ma’am,” he says, snapping his heels.

  I take my position next to Tara.

  “Good job,” she says. “Remember, you don’t have to be friends, and you don’t have to be enemies. Just don’t be scared of her, that’s the main thing.”

  I smile at her, then feel my heart sink. I’ve never had a big sister to give me advice, and other girls know a lot more than moms do. Plus, she’s not afraid of anyone or anything, and she’s so exciting, like how she goes swimming at night and all her stories about Selkies.

  I’m going to miss her, but people belong with their family. If I were lost, I’d want someone to return me. I peer more closely through the crowd. Maybe her uncle is here.

  55

  Chase

  When Allie Jo trots off to use the bathroom, I sneak one of her pieces of fudge. I don’t think she’ll notice.

  A couple stops by and takes samples off my platter. I think this is the third or fourth time they’ve been here, but I don’t say anything. I’ve eaten so many samples, my gut’s about to blow.

  At night, the hill has a different look. Everything’s in silhouette—black shapes against the darkening sky. Oak branches stretch over us like crooked fingers pointing across the crowd. I wonder if Dad’s getting any good photos of this kind of stuff. I see a perfect spot looking up through the trees to the moon.

  Tara walks over to me from her side and says, “Allie Jo’s taking a long time.”

  “There’s probably a line.” Portable toilets in the dark. I look back at the trees; sometimes it pays to be a boy.

  Mrs. Jackson left a while ago, offering to take us home as well. With two of the waitresses having just arrived, we weren’t really needed anymore. But neither Allie Jo nor I wanted to leave.

  I set my platter down and go through my bag of swag, as Mr. Jackson called it. The three of us had walked around earlier; pretty good take, I’d say. Bookmarks, taffy, pens with 3-D pictures on them, tokens for drinks at different restaurants—all free. I put a glowstick around my neck and crack it on.

  I turn to Tara. “What are you going to do?” I ask.

  She tilts her head. “What do you mean?”

  I’ve spoken in midthought. “After tonight, what are you going to do? Are you sure you don’t have someone in your family to go to, like an uncle or someone?”

  She looks hurt. “My family is in the sea. Do you not believe me?”

  I stare at her, then say, “I want to.” At that moment, a great yearning takes over my heart, and I realize more than anything I want to believe her. I want it to be true. I want to think that magical, fantastical things are possible in this world.

  “Does Allie Jo believe me?”

  I chuff and raise my eyebrows. “I don’t know. We’ve been kind of arguing on and off all day.”

  “About what?”

  “I wish I could say.” I add a shrug to make it more real, but what’s really going through my mind is, She thinks you’re crazy. She wants to find your uncle.

  Oh, no. I suddenly realize where Allie Jo is.

  56

  Allie Jo

  I’ve circled the tents almost three times now and tapped on the shoulders of two men who turned out not to be Tara’s uncle. The crowd jostles me forward, and I stumble along. Just as I’m about to give up and head back, I spot a man near the beer tent. My heart starts up. He’s got the same pear-shaped body and wiry hair.

  Using my arm to split through people, I make my way over and step in front of him. It’s beer he’s drinking in a clear plastic cup, and by the looks of him, I doubt it’s his first.

  He casts a liquidy gaze on me.

  “Hi,” I say. “I’m Allie Jo, remember? From The Meriwether?”

  His jaw moves crookedly, but he doesn’t say anything.

  “You were asking about Tara”—I shake my head—“I mean, Pamela.”

  His eyes sharpen, like shark eyes. He grabs my arm with such speed that his beer splashes on his shirt. “You know where she is, don’t you?”

  His sour breath splatters onto my face. Fear races up my arm and into my stomach.

  “I … I … she’s at our tent. You’re her uncle, right?”

  He laughs and pushes me away. Without waiting, he staggers through the crowd, through the big field of people, and makes a crooked path for The Meriwether tent—and Tara.

  I dart through, dodging people and elbows. “Mr. Smith? Mr. Smith?” I shout. He doesn’t look back. I catch up beside him. “You’re her uncle, right? You’re going to help her.”

  Some teenage boys bluster by, bumping into me and knocking me backward. They don’t even stop to see if I’m okay. I pick myself up and jump up and down to spot him.

  I see the top of his head as he makes wobbly progress toward The Meriwether tent, and suddenly I realize what I’ve done. I charge through people, tripping over their feet, pushing some of them out of the way.

  “Tara!” I start yelling. “Tara!”

  57

  Chase

  Fireworks scream through the air, then BOOM! BOOM! BOOM! Red, white, and blue stars explode in the sky.

  “Whoo!” I shout along with the crowd. The stars whistle, leaving trails of color as they fall to the ground.

  BOOMBOOM! White flash pots blast so loudly, my heart feels them.

  “Yeah!” I pump my fist and glance toward Tara.

  She’s crouched at the foot of the table, eyes skyward and full of fear. Her platter and samples lie scattered in the grass.

  I shout in her direction. “It’s just—” She can’t hear me over the crowd and fireworks. I slide my platter on Chef’s table, walk over, and crouch beside Tara.

  “It’s just fireworks!” Even this close, I yell to be heard.

  She looks at me, but she doesn’t seem to recognize my words. Her eyes are huge—coal black circles. Without saying anything, she grasps me by the cast.

  Pop. KABOOM! Golden sparkles sizzle in the sky.

  Gesturing upward with my good arm, I lean toward her ear. “It’s just for fun,” I shout. But in this closeness, in this dark nearness, I suddenly feel terror. Her hand slips into mine.

  BANG! Whiz! BANG! BANG! Purple, green, purple.

  “Tara!”

  I’m sure I heard someone call Tara’s name. The crowd in the middle is still, but in front of the booths, people mix and mill about, merging like traffic. I pull Tara to her feet.

  KAPOW!

  “Tara!”

  We both hear that. I scan the crowd and spot Allie Jo. I start to laugh when I see her bumping through the crowd, leaving a trail of annoyed people behind her.

  But then I see her face.


  Her features are strained, her voice ragged. “Run, Tara, run!” she yells.

  Tara’s uncle emerges from the mob. His beady eyes lock onto Tara and he moves like a steamroller, plowing people down as he makes his way toward us.

  “Come on!” I yank Tara hard and start running.

  58

  It was him.

  Her heart exploded into a million pieces, splintering like the colors in the sky.

  BOOM! BOOM!

  “Come on!” Chase yelled, yanking her away from the tent.

  She snapped at Chase’s command. Tearing through the crowd, she glided easily through people wading up the hill. Power coursed through her veins, making her legs faster, almost giving her flight. At the bottom of the hill, she leaped off the curb.

  An angry horn blared. Tires screeched, but she kept running.

  The horrible sound of the sky splitting cracked overhead. She didn’t want to stay in this confusing world, with its harsh noise and strange ways. She looked back to see Chase close behind, followed by Allie Jo, and blundering down the hill was the man.

  Allie Jo pointed between buildings. “This way!”

  Tara and Chase turned back quickly and caught up to her.

  Allie Jo led them through narrow passageways between crumbling buildings. They jumped over a low fence; Tara heard it crack behind her as the man tried to hurdle it.

  Rounding a corner, they hopped another fence and shot into the woods. Tara’s heart beat hard and strong. She controlled her breathing, for she didn’t know how long they would run. As they dashed by old oaks and tall maples, Tara began to hear the whispers. They were near The Meriwether.

  The three raced in silence, save for the branches and twigs that snapped as they passed. Tara heard the man beating his way through the trees. The cruel sound of his breathing reached her ears.

  When they cleared the wood line, they ran in plain sight across the mowed lawn of the hotel.

  The man laughed sneeringly from the trees.

  59

  Allie Jo

  “Come on, come on,” I urge hoarsely, pressing open the panel to the secret nanny staircase.

  Chase starts pounding up the stairs. The wood screams his every step.

  “NO!” I swing the door shut. “He’ll hear you.”

  “But—” Chase cuts himself off as we hear the door to the sunporch blast open. Heavy footsteps stumble into the hotel.

  In the darkness of the staircase, I hold my breath.

  Each footfall is a threat. His ragged gasping is a curse in my ears. If only the hotel could swallow him up and flush him out, but, no, it can’t—I’m the one who brought him here.

  I betrayed her.

  I’m horrible. I’m no good. I’m the worst person in the world.

  His footsteps plod past us. Chase stirs, but Tara whispers, “Be still.”

  If she’ll stay here after this, I promise to never tell anyone about her. Just let her forgive me.

  Before I can think another thought, her hand grasps mine and holds it tightly.

  We’re about to move when we hear Clay’s voice coming down the hallway. “You say they went up through the panel?”

  “Run!” I shout.

  60

  Chase

  We pound up the stairs, not caring about the noise. Light gleams in as Clay opens the door. “Allie Jo?” he calls.

  I lean over the banister and see Mr. Smith craning his neck to spot us. Without even thinking, I grab the old window hook from the landing and hurl it down. My left arm’s a bad shot, but it comes close enough to buy us a few seconds.

  “Fifth floor!” I shout, hoping to mislead him. I burst out onto the fourth floor.

  Tara and Allie Jo tear through behind me. My eyes quickly adjust to the darkness. Allie Jo bends down to catch her breath. Through a broken window, I hear a faint sizzle, then red shards explode in the sky.

  Muffled footsteps creak from the secret staircase.

  “Look at the elevator!” Allie Jo says. The elevator light flashes numbers: 2 … 3 … They have to get out at four; the elevator doesn’t go up to the nanny quarters.

  Footsteps, the elevator’s ancient rattle, and the thunder of fireworks in the sky.

  They’re closing in on us.

  Shoving open the door to the service stairs, I yell, “Come on!”

  Just as Tara and Allie Jo bolt through, the elevator doors part and light pours onto its only passenger.

  Mr. Smith.

  61

  Allie Jo

  We race down the stairs into the tunnels.

  Darkness flows around us, but I know this place like the back of my hand. I swing open the cedar-planked door on the right. Tara slips right in. Chase moves with his hand on the wall. I grab him, shut the door swiftly behind us, and lower the bar. We’re in the speakeasy. I check the porthole—closed.

  “Shh,” I say, putting my fingers to my lips. We pad to the farthest wall and slip down to the floor, each of us breathing heavily as quietly as we can.

  Footsteps echo in the tunnel.

  My whole body becomes an antenna, alert to every sound and movement.

  He attacks the brick walls in a burst of pounding. “I know you’re here!” he rasps. “Come on out, seal girl.” His voice goes in a direction opposite of us. I hear his feet shuffle off toward the entrance. “I’ve got something for you.”

  Tara stiffens.

  “It’s a trick,” I whisper softly. “Don’t listen to him.”

  “My skin.” The words slip out of her mouth.

  Before I can stop her, she leaps to the door.

  62

  Chase

  I spring up and snatch Tara back from the door. “Don’t!”

  Lit by the green glowstick still around my neck, her face takes on an ethereal quality, as if the color of the springs was being reflected on her cheeks. She is full of moonbeams.

  Allie Jo rushes up to her and shakes her head. “Stay here.”

  Tara’s eyes glow from behind.

  All of a sudden, her uncle lets loose with a barrage of pounding. The thick door shakes. Then he whams the door with something heavy. The wood cracks, splinters.

  I throw the bar off, time my move, and smash the door into him.

  “Run!” I shout, sprinting up the service stairs. Tara’s even faster. As we get to the first-floor landing, I turn the knob, but the door’s locked. I beat it with my fists.

  “Clay!” I shout. I know he’s got to be close by. “Clay!”

  Allie Jo screams.

  I turn around and see he’s got Allie Jo by the arm on the lower landing. She tries to wrench out of his grip, but he’s too strong. Tears streak down her face. In the dim light of the stairs, I see his fingers digging into her flesh.

  I take a few steps down.

  “Don’t do it.” His voice comes out low and menacing.

  “Let her go,” Tara says.

  “It’s been a long trip lookin’ for you,” he says to her, not distracted by Allie Jo’s struggling. “I’m not leaving without you.” Then he looks at Allie Jo and gestures his head at her. “Or maybe I’ll take her.”

  I look around for something to throw at him. There’s only one thing.

  I spring from the steps like I’m doing an ollie. Snapping up my legs, I crash into him and we fall backward. My cast cracks against the floor, sending a surge of pain up my arm.

  He stands and when I clamber to get up, he slams me down. I collapse in a heap by his feet. My vision blurs. I’m stunned, like when I hit my head falling off the skateboard.

  “Leave him alone,” Tara says.

  I try to focus, but there’s two of her. They move closer.

  “That’s right, girlie,” he sneers. “You come with me.”

  “No.” The Taras set their faces. They look like Amazons, with their short, blond hair.

  “Oh, I think you will.” From under his shirt, he pulls out some kind of wadding.

  It grazes me as he holds it up. It’s nic
e and furry, soft. I want to pull it around myself.

  The Taras gasp. “My skin!”

  My head floats in circles. I squint to turn her back into one person.

  She grits her teeth. All that stands between her and the water is her skin.

  I summon up all my energy and smash his knees with my cast. He crumples to the ground. I snatch up the skin.

  “The springs!” I yell.

  63

  As they flew across the lawn, Chase tossed the skin to her. She stretched her arms toward it, drawing it in close after catching it.

  Her skin! Her legs took her swiftly even as she cried out in joy, caressing the skin. Tears, human tears, rolled down her face; a wave of longing surged in her soul. Green and blue images of the salty depths flooded her spirit and she trilled loudly, bidding her distant cousins to come to her aid. They knew these waters and could show her the way to the seas.

  In the darkness at the water’s edge, she ripped off the human clothing, foreign to her even in their skin, and slipped her own luxurious sealskin over her feet and onto her shoulders.

  Allie Jo stumbled forward, crying. “I’m sorry,” she said. “I thought he was your uncle and I wanted to help you. I—”

  Tara held Allie Jo’s face in both her hands. “You are good,” she said, and kissed her lightly on the cheek.

  Chase loped over, stopped in front of her. Tumbling currents of confusion rolled off him, but they did not obscure his heart from her.

  Tara grabbed him fiercely. “Thank you,” she said. Wetness touched her cheek as she hugged him, and she realized tears flowed from his eyes as well.

  “Hey!” The sweaty blobfish man hobbled from the tunnel, followed by Clay, who jogged after him, yelling into his walkie-talkie.

  Tara’s face hardened as she looked at the man and remembered his plans for her. She squeezed Chase one more time and kissed him on the cheek.