by Leanne Davis
Jacob smiled as Luna poked her head in the bag. He admired her thick, long hair that slid forward over her shoulders. She jerked it back and held it with her fist. He also liked her big, round, brown eyes, and dark skin. Her looks would have caught his eye even if they never shared the terrible experience they did.
Brave. Intelligent. Impulsive. Quick to act. Eager to help. Able to withstand extraordinary amounts of pain. Beautiful. Funny. And grumpy. The funny part was, he enjoyed Luna being grumpy more than anyone else’s happy.
“I hope you aren’t too picky. Cheeseburgers from Henry’s.”
She shook her head. “No. Not me. I owned a café, remember? I normally eat restaurant food.”
They sat down and started eating dinner together. It was quiet for a few moments as they chewed, and they were both pensive. Luna sucked on the straw and said, “Did you see us on TV?”
“Hard to miss. You were right, the fireman carry made for lighter TV.”
“And the still photos.”
“And the still photos. You know, you’re very pretty. I suppose it only manages to enhance the entire scene.”
“Me? Have you noticed the comments about your heroism? If you were sixty and bald and raggedy or super overweight, you wouldn’t be nearly so sexy to the damn media.”
“So… I’m sexy?”
“Maybe, but our story certainly isn’t.”
He sighed. Hollow in his reply, he said without excitement, “It sure fucking isn’t.”
“No. It’s horrifying. But others find it sweet. They loved it when you grabbed me in your arms and protected me from the cameras and crowds. And anyway, you are.”
“I am? What?”
“Sexy. But as for the story? I know it’s still a horror show.”
“Agreed. That is to calling it the horror show. But thanks for the other info.”
Their eyes met, and their stares became shared smiles.
“Tell me, how did you wind up here?”
“Pardon me?”
“It occurred to me I don’t know anything personal about you. Sure, I know you’re brave and courageous under dire circumstances, but nothing else. So why don’t you tell me something about you? What made you move here?”
“I ran an accounting department at a large food supply. That’s where the café idea started. I managed the numbers on food inventory. I suppose it grew from that.”
“An academic who chose to run this small-town café? It seems a little impossible.”
“Think how I feel. I graduated from a prominent business school and spent the next five years working my way up through the accounting department. I did very well and saved a bit of a nest egg. But more importantly, I hated every single thing about it. I decided to chuck it all and just try something new. Something different. I was actually seeking a better life by coming here.”
His eyes bugged in disbelief. “And you thought River’s End and a small-town café were the answer?”
“I did. I came for a new start, and a new career. I guess… I’ve got that now. Just in a way I never intended.”
“What did you know about running a café?”
“Nothing. It seemed pretty uncomplicated to step into.”
“And now you’re being memorialized in a national tragedy.”
She nodded. “Right alongside of you. So, am I right when I assume you’re here only because your mom married one of the Rydell brothers?”
He glanced away. “In essence, yeah. I was born and raised in Everett. Graduated from there. Ended up living with my dad and stepmom, Trinity.”
“When did you move here then?”
“Just a few months ago. Wanted to be closer to my mom. I was like you, unhappy and hoping to make a better life.”
“And have you? I mean, until the shooting occurred, of course.”
“I have made more of my life than I ever imagined. So, yes.”
“Well, here we were, both of us seeking new beginnings and we managed to end up here together. Devastated. Commiserating together since no one else can understand.”
“Not exactly the fairy tale we might’ve hoped for, huh?”
“No.” Luna shook her head. “But then again, when is life ever a fairy tale with a happy ending?”
****
Eventually, Luna’s parents got word of the shooting. The news traveled all the way down to their all-inclusive vacation resort in Cabo San Lucas.
“Luna! How could you not tell us? Can you imagine the terror and shock I experienced when I heard your name on the news? This is being broadcast everywhere.” Luna’s mother exclaimed.
“I honestly didn’t think it would leave this part of the state. And certainly not the country. I’m sorry. I never meant to worry you. I’m fine. I’m home again. I just wanted to relax and lick my wounds. I didn’t expect so much media coverage,” Luna replied.
“You were in a mass shooting in a place that no one ever thought could happen. The randomness is what scares everyone. If it could happen there, it can happen anywhere, you know. It is a pretty big deal.”
“I know. I’m really sorry. I just need more time to register everything that I saw. I can’t make sense of what happened yet. It comes to me in sudden flashes and I have to sit down and think about it and say, wow, that really did happen.”
“What about this man with you? The one named Jacob Starr? Oh, my God. The news says you are dating him? Were you there together on a date? Is that why he carried you through that mob? Oh, Luna!”
She shut her eyes. It would have made them so happy if she could have confirmed their suspicion. The wild stories were gaining more traction. “No. We were strangers.”
“Oh, sure. Sure.”
“No. Really, Mom. It’s not any—”
“I know you can’t be honest with us, but really, this is the most welcome news.”
Luna shut her eyes. The frustration she felt lodged like a lump in her throat. They always did this. Both of her parents. They only saw and heard what they expected from her. If she said anything different, it was like she had no voice. They just ignored her. They didn’t see her. They definitely wouldn’t acknowledge anything she had to say, and that’s why she refused to share her experience in the shooting.
It might have been rotten of her not to reach out to them, but there was a long, sordid history there. For one, the constant theme throughout her life was the disappointment she caused them by not being a boy or not behaving the way they wanted her to act. They snatched up all the scraps that agreed with what they wanted from her and ignored anything to the contrary, including the truth.
“Should we come home early? Stop by there on our way back?”
You think? The sharp retort was right on her tongue. Sure, that’s what most parents would do. But Luna knew that wasn’t obvious to her parents. “No. No. I’m fine, finish your trip. I’m okay. There’s nothing you can do anyway. There will be a long trial for the shooter, I’m sure, and plenty of stuff to deal with soon. I’m sure I can use your support then.”
Never. But it placated them now. Their guilt would soon abate. And don’t forget that she never wanted them to know about it in the first place.
Feeling drained, she repeated the usual banalities of pointless conversation. Their relationship was as hollow as a pipe and always had been. Anxiety started to churn in her. No. It wasn’t worth it. Luna spent a long time letting go of them and accepting the way they were. Why was it all disintegrating around her? She shook her head and tried to distract herself with chores, but all the hobbling around was overly taxing, and she quickly grew exhausted.
It was hard. The incident left her confused and unsure. She tired much too easily and blamed it more on the emotional impact of what happened than the physical injury. Her foot throbbed, ached, and constantly swelled. The cast hurt too; it was ungodly heavy and made her foot too hot and itchy. In a word, she was miserable. But the physical pain was the easy part. She could articulate that. Deal with it. Whine out loud about it. Gru
nt in frustration. Use her crutch to hit stuff when she got pissed off. Any movement was so slow and cumbersome that she struggled just to bend over and come back up. She could focus all her energy on hating it. But it stayed right there and was definable.
Otherwise, her head space was already full. Of shock and shots. Bangs and reports. She constantly relived the sights and sounds of the café that night. The shadows loomed over the dark exterior and only the parking lot lights illuminated the scene. The blood. The moans. She stared at her ceiling at night, unable to shut her eyes for the images that ceaselessly flashed and replayed over and over again. She was unable to let it go, not even for a few hours.
She glanced out her front window at the café and the unlit sign. Who would have thought to unplug it? She didn’t. Police tape waved in the day’s light breeze. Snow was piling up on the sides of the street after having been scooped out of the way. It was peppered with black bits and dark dirt. The windows allowed her to see some of the tables and chairs inside. She stood up and stared harder out the front window for a long while. She was so lost. She kept picturing that night. Each movement. Each sequence. The place was so empty now and dark.
Someone had to go inside there.
Someone like her. The legal owner who ran and operated it. Right now? Luna would have been eager to sell the whole fucking enterprise for a single dollar. She wanted to be done with it, so she’d never have to enter the establishment again. After a shallow laugh, she knew that would never fly. Right now, she even doubted she could get a whole dollar for it.
Unless there were some freaks out there. Some kinky-assed psychotics who might actually get off on the knowledge that a mass murder was committed there. They could turn it into a shrine of pure evil. She shuddered; that was so much worse. Deep in her heart, however, she wanted to level it. Destroy it with a bulldozer and scrape up all that remained and burn the residue or fill up a large dumpster with the debris.
She sighed, her heart sinking heavily. But she had to do something. After dropping her life savings into it, it was a surprisingly profitable café for a small town, which was not a common occurrence. Luna scoured the whole state for such a winner but found very few. This turned out to be the third most profitable business she investigated, but the outlying area put it in the top two options. The mountain views, river vistas, and fields were an unintended but very attractive perk.
River’s End had a small population. Now eight were killed in her establishment, just because she’d been open for business at the time the shooter decided to act.
But no insurance could cover everything, and the fact that she now considered her business disgusting because of all the flashbacks was not a good enough reason for them to compensate her for the costs. She had to go back in there eventually. She had to clean up the mess. She had to reopen the café.
The biggest obstacle to that was, who would eat there now? Luna knew she would not. If the owner didn’t even want to go back in there, why should anyone else? She would have avoided it altogether if she were not connected to it. Bad mojo. Bad luck. The rawness of what happened showed everywhere. A young mother was killed right in front of her four-month-old infant. The mother’s blood was splattered all over the crying baby. Luna knew most of the stories now. Two senior citizens also died that night, one of which was Edgar, and a single man traveling through town on business. A couple who were out for a date night died, and their twins in middle school had been left all alone. Parentless. Kelsey, the long-time waitress, was killed in the massacre. That one hit Luna’s conscience much harder. And the last victim was a teenage boy who stopped in for a quick hamburger after a youth group meeting. The ordinary lives that were lost, as well as those they left behind, continued to haunt Luna. Was it her fault? She had essentially provided the setting for the carnage. She was open for business. But why her place? What made Lester Zandinsky choose her café? He wasn’t even a local. Why? Why? Why?
Those thoughts kept trampling through her brain.
Why?
But of course, there was no single answer. Even the answer from Lester on the news was woefully disjointed and unsatisfactory. Luna could only wonder again… Why?
Lester Zandinsky came from a medium-sized town in southern Washington. He had no verifiable family living in or around River’s End. A delivery man for one of the bigger local mail services in his town, he had no wife and no kids either. A girlfriend with whom he had an on-again, off-again relationship was mentioned and one estranged sister. No parents. No one came forward who was known to be close to him, and so far, the media didn’t have much, either negative or positive, to say about him. It seemed no one really knew much about him, so the investigation continued.
Lester was arraigned and charged with eight counts of premeditated murder and two accounts of attempted murder and held without bond. The constant media coverage on Lester was an unintended gift to him. Luna avoided the stories as much as possible. It was too overwhelming for Luna to see his picture or a video of him, and she oddly felt like she knew him intimately. She touched him. She watched his facial expression while he pulled the trigger and shot a man who turned out to be only a teenager across the room.
She turned her gaze. No. She could not relive that night. Or think about Lester.
And as if it were designed only to make it worse, the view from her damn house was squarely aimed at the place of the slaughter. She once thought it was so clever to live right there. No commuting. All she had to do was cross the quiet street. The café was located one street over from the main road through town. So quiet you could hear your own thoughts all the time. She could be relaxing at home and still keep an eye on it. Wow. All the money she could save on security. If a problem arose, there she was. An employee getting sick or unable to come in? No problem. Luna could run over and fill in for anyone. It was perfect. A great start to an entirely new life. Her chosen life. Defined by nothing and no one but her. Not her parents. Not her past. Not her schooling. Not her personal life. Luna would be successful on her own merit, and it seemed like there was no other variable to her life until the day she showed up in River’s End.
Little did she know then that she’d end up on the wrong end of a gun, in a tragedy surrounded by a freaking media blitz. She watched a vehicle pulling into the café and quickly tugged the drape over the window. Another van from a news station. She groaned. The national attention got old really quick. She shook her head as the word infamous entered it. Her stupid—once cute hometown café was now infamous for being a place of death and destruction. A place where people died. And children were orphaned.
So what if heroes emerged? It wasn’t fair. It wasn’t enough.
The heroes should have done more to protect the innocent.
The baby’s crying and her screams echoed in Luna’s brain. The baby was so young and so frightened. Did she know her mother was dead when she slumped over the table in a pool of her own blood?
She wilted as she sat down, tears filling her eyes and rolling over her cheeks. She felt so alone now and scared. So incapable. She didn’t have the wherewithal or motivation to even dress, let alone deal with the café and all that needed to be done to it. The incessant attention on it had become an obstacle she had to hurdle. For a woman who avoided any attention most of the time, this was intolerable to Luna. Her sense of privacy and well-being were shattered. Her former haven of peace and safety was gone, and the worst part was: it wasn’t even about the café. Nor the media. It was all about her sense of safety and control. They were blown apart and the understanding that no one was ever safe at any moment, at any place became her new mantra.
Now the fear was starting to percolate inside her, deeper and stronger than the anger, hurt, and even the horror. Crippling fear. She could be standing next to this window and anyone could walk by and shoot it out, lodging a bullet right between her eyes. It could happen in any public place or private residence. What if another disgruntled worker came into the post office for revenge? Or an angry cus
tomer shot out the grocery store, or dentist’s office or gas station, or doctor’s office? Her mental list of all the unpredictable, most random places that one would expect any violence debilitated her as effectively as a knife or a bomb.
Luna thought about people besides herself. It could happen to anyone. Babies. Mothers. Old, defenseless seniors who could barely move without using walkers or canes. Anyone and everyone were at risk. Anytime. Anywhere. Anything could happen to change people’s lives irrevocably.
That was all she thought about, no, all she obsessed about now. The shooting was over, yes, but the bigger implication that no one was safe anywhere at any time had been etched into her brain. She was so naive in her illusion of thinking she had found a safe environment at River’s End. Wide awake now to the danger and reality, she couldn’t even fucking shut her eyes for a second. She couldn’t sleep either and had to rely on a few exhausted cat naps ever since that night.
Luna huddled in her flannel pajamas and thick robe as she checked the outside thermometer. It was not even twenty degrees today and felt even colder. But there was no new snow. Luna still hadn’t managed to acclimate to the cold winters and snow. When she moved there in the summer, the long days of hot sun were sometimes blistering and hard, but the thrill of sunlight, so bright everywhere, filled her up with happiness, and her heart swelled with joy. She considered her move to River’s End the best thing she’d ever done in her life. Taking over the town café was a brand new endeavor. She reveled in the excitement and novelty. It turned out to be so much fun. Sure, she was on her feet most of the day, but she was always talking to people and slowly getting to know the regulars and familiar faces. It was so interesting, and she often thought she had found her niche in life. Something she never had in any job before. To be honest, all of her relationships with her other jobs stopped at the end of the workday. She felt no loyalty or love for any of them. None. She never felt like she fit in any of them either, not as herself.
But being there in River’s End she thought she’d finally found her heart’s desire.