Moondeath

by Rick Hautala

  Reggie’s face was split by a wide grin that had always reminded Frank of Howdy Doody; he had never liked him.

  Frank took the last swig of beer from his glass and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. Reggie jumped to his feet and gestured wildly. “Hey! Frenchie! A beer over here for the hero!”

  Frank hooked his thumbs through his belt loops and leaned back in his seat with a loud belch. Well, he figured, might as well stick around if the beer’s free.

  Frenchie came over with a cold one and slid it in front of Frank. Reggie already had a dollar bill out, which Frenchie neatly pocketed as he moved away from the table.

  “So tell me all about it,” Reggie said, beaming. “I’ve heard about it from everyone else, but I want the details from you.”

  “Not much to tell, really,” Frank said, purposely nonchalant and looking bored to counteract Reggie’s enthusiasm. There’s nothing better, he thought, than a hero who maintains his cool.

  “Aww, come on,” Reggie said, leaning forward eagerly. “You can’t tell me it wasn’t a hell of a rush to nail that bastard.”

  Frank took a swallow of beer and shrugged his shoulders. “I spent most of the night hunkered down beside that stone wall. I knew that son-of-a-bitch would be out that way.”

  “How’d you know?” Reggie asked.

  Frank tapped his forehead with his finger. “I knew,” he said, smiling and nodding. “I knew. And when that animal went by, it was just about dawn.” Frank pointed his finger at Reggie like a make-believe gun. “Bang! I nailed the sucker.”

  “That’s it?” Reggie asked, crestfallen. Apparently he wanted a detailed account of a hand-to-hand struggle; Frank’s account was too easy.

  “That’s it,” Frank said simply. He took one last gulp of beer and left the glass, still not empty, on the table. “Look, Reg, I’ve gotta get going. I’ve got some business to take care of.” He winked lasciviously.

  “Ohhh,” Reggie said, nodding knowingly. “You’re gonna go out and see Julie, huh?”

  “Yeah, I think I just might,” Frank said as he rose from the booth. He strode from the table, heading toward the door. As he reached into his pants pocket for the truck keys, he mumbled to himself, “That is, if she doesn’t have company already.”

  .III.

  “Well, I don’t know if I can thank you for a pleasant night or not,” Lisa said with a tight laugh as Bob pulled up to the curb in front of her apartment building. “It did have its moments.”

  “Yeah.” Bob looked at her and then out at the darkened apartment building. His forehead was creased with concern. “And if he starts in again…” he said, but then let his voice trail off when he saw the pleading look in Lisa’s eyes. “OK, OK,” he mumbled finally.

  Lisa cast a quick glance over her shoulder at the parking lot. She sighed and looked back at Bob.

  “He’s not home yet?” Bob asked.

  Lisa shook her head. “I wouldn’t expect him to be. Whenever we have a fight, he always stays out even later than usual.” Her voice began to break. “Probably just to make me feel lousy.”

  They dropped into silence. Bob leaned forward and scanned the three-story apartment building. The disk of the full moon had just risen over the rooftop, outlining the eaves with silvery filigree. A low, moaning wind added to the eeriness.

  “About the animal we saw,” Bob began. “Do you, do you think we should report it?”

  Lisa shrugged.

  “I thought I heard that Frank Simmons or one of the men from town killed that dog that had been getting the animals,” Lisa said.

  “I’d say, by the looks of what we saw, that they got the wrong animal. Or else there are two of them.”

  “Maybe you should give Granger a call and report it.”

  “Yeah,” Bob said, rubbing his chin. “Maybe I will.” He turned and looked at her. “Hey, I almost forgot. It’s the perfect time to ask you this, I know.”

  Lisa looked at him and cocked her eyebrows.

  “A week from Friday,” Bob continued, “on the thirty-first, we’re having a Halloween party at school. The senior class has hired a band from Portsmouth. They decided to do it really big this year.”

  “You want me to chaperon?” Lisa asked guardedly.

  “That comes later. First of all, we’re going to have a decorating party. Would you like to come and help?”

  “You think it’d be OK?” Lisa asked. Bob recognized the question behind her question.

  He nodded. “Sure. We can, you know, play it cool.”

  “This is tomorrow night? A school night?”

  “There’s a teachers’ conference the next day, so the students have the day off. We thought maybe a pre-party party would get everyone into the spirit of things.” Bob’s grin widened. “What do you say?”

  Lisa looked down at her folded hands and slowly twisted them. “Sure, I guess it’d be OK.” She looked at him and brightened. “After all, it’d be a school function, right?”

  “Right!” Bob said, emphatically. “No funny stuff.”

  Lisa snapped open her door and stepped outside. “OK. What time can you pick me up?”

  Bob shifted in his seat. “Well, that was my last question. I have to take this old heap into the shop for repairs tomorrow. I was hoping you could pick me up.”

  Lisa laughed. “So that’s it!” she said playfully. “You’re just using me to get what you want!”

  Bob shook his head with exaggerated innocence. “No-o-o-! Honest. How does six-thirty sound?”

  “Well, I suppose so,” Lisa said. She eased the door shut and stood there for a moment on the curb. She waved goodbye, and Bob saw her mouth the word, “Thanks,” as he pulled away.

  .IV.

  “Ned? Are you awake?”

  Ellie Simmons cupped her hands to her mouth and called sharply from the foot of the stairs. She peered up at her son’s closed bedroom door and waited what she thought was a reasonable time for an answer.

  “Ned! You left the light on in the barn. It shouldn’t be on all night. It might start a fire. Ned? Don’t you think you should go turn it off?”

  She huffed and folded her arms across her chest. Still no answer came. She placed her foot on the first step, as though, somehow, the threat would be transmitted to Ned.

  “Ned!”

  She put weight on that foot, and the step creaked.

  “It’s your responsibility, not mine!” she yelled. She listened to the ticking silence of the house, then shook her head and said softly, “My God, but that boy sleeps like the dead!”

  She waited a few seconds longer, then shouted, “Never mind. I’ll do it this time!”

  She went to the closet and got her coat before venturing out into the chilly night. All the way to and from the barn, she was muttering about how kids these days are such lazy so-and-sos.

  .V.

  Tuesday, October 21

  “I could use a little bit of help over here,” Bob shouted. He was balanced on the edge of the next-to-the-top step on the ladder, straining as he reached over his head. The large orange-and-black crepe jack-o’-lantern face bobbed up and down as he felt blindly for the coat hanger hook he had wrapped around the I-beam.

  The ladder was squeaking noisily, like a frightened mouse. Bob gritted his teeth.

  “Don’t worry, Mr. Wentworth. We’ll catch you,” someone yelled from the floor. Bob didn’t dare to look down to see who it was who had such a charming sense of humor. He thought he could hear Lisa chuckling with the rest of the people below.

  “Terrific. Just what I need.” He grunted softly. “Wouldn’t I look great, dancing at the Halloween party with a cast on my leg?”

  “You could go as an accident victim,” someone else yelled.

  Bob stretched his legs and, finally, the hook caught. “There,” he said with a noisy exhale. He took a quick step down until the ladder was more stable. He stood there for a moment, admiring the colorful streamers that arched away from him in all directions. A round of
applause went up from the floor as Bob scurried down the rest of the way.

  “Nice, isn’t it?” he asked, looking at his finishing touch.

  Lisa cleared her throat and stepped closer to him. “Umm, don’t you think that the red spotlight is just a bit too much?” she asked, seriously. “I mean, it’s supposed to be spooky, not gory.”

  “I think it’s just per-fect!” Bob said, rubbing his hands together maliciously. He followed it with a hollow, ghoulish laugh. Then he turned and looked in the direction of the lighting booth at the far end of the gym.

  “Hey, Wendy!” he shouted to one of the students who was up there controlling the lights. “Mrs. Carter doesn’t like the red! Ghostly, not bloody!” Shading his eyes, he looked into the bright light. The booth looked empty.

  “Wendy? Are you still up there?” he called.

  “Just a second,” a faint voice answered. “I’m looking for the blue gel.”

  Bob saw Wendy rise from behind the low barrier that surrounded the booth. “I can’t find it up here. Maybe it’s in the band room.”

  “I’ll go check,” one of the students said and dashed off.

  Bob looked back up at Wendy. Then his eyes caught a motion at the foot of the ladder leading up to the booth. Someone else had just been up there with Wendy. Bob nudged Lisa and pointed, but she turned too slowly to see the figure disappear out the side door. In the light of the exit light, Bob thought he recognized Alan Tate.

  “Aww, the things that can happen in a lighting booth,” Bob said to Lisa’s questioning gaze.

  A few moments later, Wendy came down from the lighting booth and walked over to the group in the center of the gym floor. She moved cautiously, as though she was shy. This wasn’t at all like Wendy, and Bob knew she was wondering if anyone had seen that she had had company up in the booth.

  Bob noticed that Wendy looked a bit disheveled. Her hair was messed up, and the top two buttons of her blouse were open. Her skirt looked as though it was twisted around.

  “I’ve got it!” yelled the student who had run off to the band room. He held a blue gel triumphantly over his head. When he came up to the group, he handed the gel to Wendy, who took it and then thrust it into Bob’s hand.

  “I’ve, I’ve got to get going,” she said. Her voice sounded edgy as she backed away from the group. “My mother wanted me home by ten o’clock.”

  Bob looked at his watch and saw that it was just nine-thirty. “Well, thanks for the help,” he said. “Have a good day off tomorrow, and I’ll see you in class on Thursday.”

  “Yeah,” Wendy said. Her skirt swished as she turned and ran over to the pile of coats on the bleachers. She grabbed her coat from the bottom of the pile and disappeared out the door.

  Wendy’s sudden departure seemed to infect the other students, and they slowly started filtering out of the gym. Within fifteen minutes, Lisa and Bob were the only people left to put away the unused materials.

  “Well,” Lisa said, bending down to pick up a crumpled paper cup. “That sure was a dud of a party.”

  Bob was struggling to take down the high stepladder. “At least we got the work done,” he said. “I was afraid we wouldn’t even finish, the turnout was so bad.”

  He got the ladder down onto the floor, then he stood up and went over to the record player and clicked on the record that was on the turntable. An indistinguishable blast of guitars and drums rumbled the speakers as Bob held out his hands and bowed to Lisa gallantly. “May I have this dance, madam?”

  Lisa curtsied and lightly touched her fingertips to his hand. Oblivious to the beat of the music, they began to waltz slowly across the floor. From the lighting booth overhead, a bright red spotlight illuminated them.

  .VI.

  Wendy struggled to get her coat buttoned as she ran across the high school parking-lot. She crossed the street and then, at an easier trot, started across the football field. For a moment, she considered going straight home, but then she decided to cut through the cemetery to take the long way home along Strout Street. She need time to think.

  The cold night air burned her lungs, and her eyes watered as she slowed to a walk. She went through the cemetery and then came out onto the street.

  There were no streetlights on this stretch of road, but the full moon overhead cast a pale glaze over the road, and she could see her way well enough.

  Wendy was caught between two extreme emotions: one made her want to scream with laughter and joy; the other twisted within her until she wanted to break down and cry.

  “There’s a first time from everything,” she whispered softly, conscious of the dampness and pain between her legs. She stopped walking and slid her hand up underneath her skirt. Her fingers came away sticky.

  “Well,” she said to herself in an admonishing tone, “you can’t stay a virgin all you life, right?” She was trying to sound brave, but she could feel her lower lip trembling. “I’m probably the only girl in the senior class who hasn’t screwed, and it’s not like he forced me.”

  She moved down the road in the shadow of the trees, telling herself not to cry; it had to happen sometime.

  She breathed in the night air and exhaled it in spasmodic jerks. She hoped the walk home would calm her down enough so she would be able to face her mother without giving away her wonderful-horrible secret. She looked to her right and saw the glow of lights from town.

  Suddenly, a pair of headlights sliced the darkness. Wendy slid down the embankment and hid until the car passed by and disappeared around the bend. She scrambled back up to the road and continued walking.

  She was about a hundred yards from where Strout Street crossed Railroad Avenue when she heard a noise. It was off to her left, in the woods.

  She stood perfectly still, holding her breath as she scanned the deep darkness. It was nothing, she told herself, just the wind or something.

  Then she heard it again, and this time she thought it sounded like twigs breaking underfoot. She felt the tension coiling in her stomach.

  No, not the wind. A branch. A branch snapping. Someone’s in the woods!

  “Alan?” she whispered. “Is that you?” She looked off into the dark and listened tensely. She hoped madly that she would hear a friendly voice or a laugh.

  Steeling her voice, she said, “Whoever you are, it’s not funny. Come on out right now!”

  The black forest remained silent for an unbearably long time.

  Wendy turned on her heel and took a few quick steps back, staring at the streetlight at the corner of Railroad Avenue. The pain between her legs began to throb. Suddenly, as if coming from right beside her, a loud howl filled the night. It rose with a piercing crescendo.

  Wendy screamed and then broke into a run. Over the sound of her feet slapping the pavement, she heard the howling rise higher and higher. It shifted, seeming to remain right alongside her as she ran. She gulped in air as she ran, and it burned her throat.

  It seemed as though the streetlight was getting no closer as she pumped her arms madly.

  Then, with a suddenness that almost made her stumble, the howling stopped. The silence that followed was as thick and impenetrable as the darkness beneath the trees. Wendy slowed for a moment and chanced a look over her shoulder. The road glimmered like smoke in the moonlight. The trees were black. Then, phantomlike, a shadow detached itself from the trees and slinked out onto the road. It was the biggest damn dog Wendy had ever seen.

  She broke her stride and pulled to a stop. Her eyes were transfixed by the massive black shape that was moving slowly toward her. A tremor rose up her spine and shook her shoulders wildly when she heard a low, rumbling growl that seemed to shake the road.

  “No! No!” she whined. Her hands flailed wildly behind her, searching for support as she walked backward. The throbbing between her legs intensified.

  In the moonlight, she caught a glimmer of green in the animal’s eyes. The growl rose louder until it seemed to enfold her. Wendy sucked in a gulp of air to scream, but all that
came out was a strangled cry. The black shape drew nearer.

  “No! No! Momma, Momma,” Wendy moaned. It was the last sound she made as the beast went for her throat.

  .VII.

  An hour later, Midge Stevens and Mark McKinnon were driving back from the movies in North Conway when they found Wendy. She was lying at the side of the road with her head resting at an impossible angle. Neither would ever forget Wendy’s saucerlike eyes as she stared blankly back at the headlight’s glare.

  .VIII.

  Lisa stood leaning on the roof of her car, her chin resting in her cupped hands and one foot on the running board. “You’re sure you don’t want a ride home?” she asked.

  Bob shook his head.

  “It’s not that far out of my way, you know.”

  “It’s OK. Really,” Bob said. He took the smoldering cigarette butt from his mouth and snapped it off into the darkness. “I just need some time to think, to sort things out.”

  “After what we saw last night?” Lisa asked, her voice edged with fear.

  Bob felt an uneasiness, but he smiled and said, “I’ll be all right.”

  Lisa sat down in the car and started the motor. “You’re sure?”

  “Yeah. And thanks for the help with the decorations.” He moved over and shut the door for her. “I hope you had an OK time.”

  “Of course I did,” she said. “It was terrific.”

  “Well,” Bob said, hunching his shoulder, “it wasn’t that great. You’re planning on coming to the party next Friday, I hope.”

  “We’ll see,” she said. “I’ll have to think what I can wear for a costume.”

  Bob braced himself on the car roof and leaned closer to Lisa. “You don’t have to wear a costume, you know?”

  “I know. But what would Halloween be without a costume?” she asked. Then she shifted into gear and drove away.

  Bob started across the high-school front lawn toward Old Jepson’s Road. He walked along easily, whistling softly, trying to ease his mind. He had walked about a mile when he stopped suddenly. He focused on the thought that had been lurking in his mind all day, like a hungry shark coasting just below the surface.