Moonlit

by Jadie Jones

  “I never knew there was anyone else out there like me,” Vanessa continues, echoing my thoughts. She sits down gingerly on the bed next to me. “What color is yours?”

  “I don’t have one that I can see.” I turn my free hand over and show her my palm. “But I know what you mean. About seeing things that don’t make sense. I know exactly what you mean.”

  “I knew there was something special about you,” she says.

  “I’ve never thought of it as special.”

  “It is. There’s a lot I don’t understand about it, but I know it makes us special,” she says fiercely. “We’re two of a kind, you and me. That means we have to stick together.”

  “What all do you see now? You know, that isn’t normal?”

  “Once the rings disappeared I started having dreams that would come true soon after. And now I see things even when I’m awake. It can get a little confusing,” she says with a grimace.

  “What kind of things do you see?”

  “I wasn’t going to tell you, but I saw what happened the night you came here,” she says, lowering her voice. “What really happened. I saw the horse you were riding flip over the fence. I saw those awful creatures. What were those? I’ve never seen anything so horrible,” she says, cringing.

  The air around me explodes like shattering glass. In a rush I tell her every detail I can remember from the chase that night.

  “They were so aggressive,” I remember. “They must have had rabies or something. I’ve never seen anything like them. Honestly, I had convinced myself that they weren’t real. That none of it was. I’m still not sure if I imagined any of it. I don’t remember anything about the fire. Did you see anything about how the fire started or how I got back to the barn?”

  “No,” she says apologetically. “The last thing I saw was those animals climbing over the fence.”

  “I can’t prove that what I remember is real, but it felt real. I don’t remember the fire, but Wildwood was burned to the ground, so that’s hard to argue with. There’s a giant piece missing somewhere and it’s driving me crazy, And now everyone has these glowing marks in their hands. I know they’re not really there but I have no idea why I’m seeing them or what they mean.”

  “I started seeing them when I was six,” she says. Her eyes fall to her lap. “After a bad car accident. I woke up in a hospital—just like you. And that’s when it all started.”

  “Do you think they’re auras?” I ask. “That was the only thing I could think of.”

  “I think the colors are just a starting point. It’s the first step that your mind takes in learning how to translate a sixth sense. If you’re anything like me, the color marks will fade away and you’ll get the information in a different way. Like the dreams I have now.”

  “Will you teach me about it?” I ask, a new hunger rumbling within my core. If I can understand this, maybe I can use it. Maybe I can find out what really happened that night. What that shadow really is. Why it attacked my father. And maybe, just maybe, I can make it pay.

  “Of course! Are you kidding? I’m so happy that I have someone to share this with.”

  “Even though we sound completely crazy?”

  “You want to hear crazy?” Ryan’s voice calls from the doorway.

  We both turn to face him. How long has he been there? What did he hear? Vanessa holds her breath next to me. Neither of us offers an answer.

  He waves a thick folder in the air above his head. “These are the results from all the scans we just ran on you. Tanzy, there is not a thing wrong in your body. We couldn’t find a single fracture on your CT scan.”

  “Do I need to take another one?”

  “Honestly, I don’t know. How do you feel?”

  “Like most of my body is in a cast. How do you think I feel?”

  “I can’t imagine how you feel,” Ryan answers, his voice thick.

  The change in it pulls on my heart strings, and I will him to look at me so I can see his eyes. Can I see through you like you see through me?

  He clears his throat and meets my stare, but his eyes are stony on the surface and reveal nothing beneath the blue. “Well, the next step is to take off your casts and do a round of X-rays just to be sure there was no obstruction or interference.”

  I nod along, but I can’t help thinking about all the things I’d do differently if we could start over. Not tell him about the horseshoes, for starters.

  “I’ll be back soon to cut the casts off,” he says on his way out.

  “Is he okay? I’ve never seen him that tense before,” Vanessa asks once we’re alone.

  “I tried to tell him about the colors earlier. He made me feel like I should be moved to a padded cell, and honestly I’ve been a brat ever since.” I sigh and she gives me a sympathetic frown.

  “Don’t tell anyone else about the colors. Trust me. I learned the hard way that it only causes trouble.”

  “I won’t. I’m sorry I didn’t tell you about it before, and I’m overreacting, I know. Can we please talk about something else?”

  “So what if the breaks are really healed?” she obliges.

  “What if they were never there to begin with? I don’t know what to believe. Visiting mystery doctors? Magic illegal potions? Glowing horseshoes?” I start to tell her about Lucas, but a clench in my gut stops me.

  “Trust me, the breaks were real. My husband said that it took a team of orthopedic surgeons hours to set your compound fractures. You know, where the broken bones stick out of your skin?” she says, making a face.

  “That’s hard to argue with. I’ve just got too much time to think, and that doesn’t help. It’s making me restless.”

  “Can’t imagine why,” Vanessa says, rolling her eyes. “I bet you’re used to moving around all day and you’ve been in that bed for two weeks straight.”

  “I started helping my dad at the horse farm when I was eight. I’ve been there almost every day since.”

  “Well, at least you’ve got school work to make the time go by, right?”

  “No. I . . . it’s a long story,” I falter.

  “I’ve got time. If you want to talk about it.” Something in her eyes works at the lock I keep on that part of my life.

  “My dad died a few years ago. My mom had a hard time with it. She needed a lot of help, so I stayed home a lot. I got really behind. I tried doing home-school but there was too much else that needed doing. After a while I just kind of stopped.”

  “Do you miss it?”

  “Not really. Sometimes though, I miss the idea of it. What it would have been like if everything had stayed the way it was. You know, just be a student. Have homework. For Wildwood to feel like it used to.”

  My trail of thoughts drifts into dangerous territory, so I dig my heels in and pull back. Vanessa gives me a curious look, which yanks the mental leash right out of my hands.

  “Wildwood Farm used to be a sanctuary for me. He died out there, my dad. He was in a really bad riding accident. Afterwards, all I could think about was the day I’d be able to leave. You know, start over. Maybe get my GED and go off to college somewhere out west. But I can’t leave Mom alone,” I explain, feeling both lighter and heavier now that those words are out.

  “No wonder you’re old for your age,” Vanessa says.

  “I’m trying not to think about the fact that I don’t have insurance. There’s no telling how much debt I’ll be in once I’m out. And we don’t have a lot of money.”

  “And your mother?” Her green eyes train on mine again, and instantly I feel trapped.

  It’s just because you don’t like to talk about it. Especially now. What do I say? Where do I start? I draw in a long breath and hold it. Vanessa waits, unblinking. “She blames me for Dad. Like I said, she had a hard time. After.”

  Vanessa waits as if she knows there’s a lot I’m not saying.

  “Potential friend should be honest, right? Put it all out there?”

  “Of course,” she says.

&n
bsp; I swallow the knot rising in my throat. “She told me that she’s not actually my mother. I don’t know whether I believe her or not. She was really drunk. She probably doesn’t even remember doing it. But she made it clear that I’m no longer a part of her life.”

  Vanessa’s face clouds over and I have to look away. But I can’t help wondering what the note said that my mother gave Dana.

  Dana! How long has she been waiting?

  “Vanessa, will you do me a favor?”

  “Of course.” She stands up.

  “Will you go get my friend Dana? She’s in the lobby. Your husband had everyone leave earlier and I forgot to have someone tell her I was done. She’s been down there for hours.”

  “What does she look like?”

  “She’s got reddish-brown hair. And she’ll probably be the only one wearing boots.”

  “Got it. I have to scoot anyway, so that’s perfect.”

  “Thanks. I’ll see you soon?”

  “Wild horses,” she says with a wink. Couldn’t drag her away. She deliberately waves with an open palm before disappearing into the hallway.

  I smile to myself as I lean back against the stiff bed and replay our conversation in my head. She never finished telling me about what made her husband stop. Maybe it’s too hard to talk about. And that’s something I can definitely relate to.

  A soft knock on the partly opened doorway breaks my train of thoughts. A guy in blue scrubs sticks his head through the cracked door. “Ms. Hightower?” he drawls kindly.

  “That’s me.”

  “I’m Steven. I’m an orthopedic resident. Ryan asked me to get these casts off and take you down to Radiology for a set of X-rays.”

  “Ouch,” I mutter to myself.

  “Oh, it won’t hurt any.”

  “Right, I know.” The crack I feel spreading under my ribcage isn’t going to show up on any x-ray.

  “This won’t take long,” Steven says and begins sawing through the hard plaster. I watch the whirling blade slice through the cast and wonder how he’ll know when he’s all the way through before carving into my skin. My fingers reflexively tighten into a fist. The cast pops open and he peels it from my arm.

  “Huh. Well, I’ve heard nothing about you has been normal,” he says.

  I inspect my newly freed arm. A red, thick line streaks across my forearm. “What’s that?” I ask and point to it.

  “That’s where both the bones in your forearm came through your skin. That’s where your stitches should be,” he says slowly. “That’s where bruising and swelling should still be.”

  I don’t know whether to be elated or scared. I watch Steven scan my skin. His eyes widen as he points at a little pile of metal staples.

  “And those are the staples they used to close your arm after surgery. Your body must have rejected them. I’ll need to get my attending to examine this, but I’ll go ahead and take the casts off your legs first.”

  He works quickly, cracking open both casts in just a couple of minutes. “I’ve never seen anything like this,” he mumbles.

  I follow his gaze to my bare legs. My left leg is riddled with angry, red streaks. A long, ridged welt runs the length of my thigh with several red limbs branching from it. Even though I heard about the countless surgeries I had the first few days I was here, the map of scars across my pale, shrunken limbs still don’t seem real.

  “Were staples there, too?” I ask.

  “Yes. This is, I mean I’ve never seen . . . I’m going to go get the attending surgeon that set your fractures. I’ll be back as fast as I can. I know your casts are off, but don’t move a muscle,” he says in a rush. He turns on his heels and races from my room.

  As soon as I’m alone, I reach back and touch the place Dr. Andrews cut into my skull. But I can’t find it. The staples are gone. I fight the urge to squirm, feeling like a freak again. I press my thumb into my empty palm. For the first time I feel disappointed that I don’t have my own little horseshoe.

  8 Visitors

  “Some people heal faster than others,” the orthopedic surgeon explains to Dana and me. A second round of X-rays had shown exactly the same thing as the first: absolutely nothing. “Although I have to say that this is quite remarkable.”

  He launches into a tangent about “the amazing human body,” and I half listen as my mind revisits every encounter with Ryan. His blue eyes pierce my mind, and if I focus on either time we touched I can still feel the effect he had with the simple brush of his fingers on my skin; the warm comfort that pulsed like a heartbeat when we held hands. Even though I try to stop it, every memory circles back to the fact that he isn’t here now. And as much as I don’t want to admit it, I added as many bricks to that wall between us as he did.

  “Remember, we don’t know how strong the bones are. So don’t try anything physical yet until we get you with a therapist,” the surgeon says. I agree automatically. He gives some more instructions that don’t register and turns to leave.

  “I don’t know what to say,” Dana says, rubbing her face.

  “I know. It’s almost scarier to be healed. Where am I going to go? Maybe I’ll call Mom and see if she remembers what she said. What did her note say?” I look away. If there’s pity in Dana’s eyes I won’t be able to hold myself together.

  “That she was leaving town. And that we shouldn’t bother looking for her.” Dana clears her throat and takes my hand. “I am in this with you, Tanzy. You aren’t alone.”

  “But what will you do? Are they rebuilding the farm? How much damage is there?” I keep my tone even and frank, leaving no room for the clench in my gut to work its way into my voice.

  “They’ll have to rebuild the barn. The whole structure was destroyed when the roof collapsed. I mean, it went up like kindling. And I didn’t want to tell you this, but I know I should.”

  I wait while she steels herself against whatever she’s about to say.

  “They’re sure it was arson now. They’ve found traces of accelerants. Even on the floor in front of the office. Tanzy, if something had happened to you—” She chokes on her words.

  “But it didn’t. I mean, it did. But I’m fine,” I reassure her and clasp my hand on top of hers.

  “I meant what I said. You have a home with me no matter what. We’re family.” She bites down on her lip as she hesitates. “I got a really good job offer at a training farm in Kentucky. If it’s okay with you, I’m going to take it.” Dana makes her words soft like they might hurt me. But they don’t.

  “I think you should,” I encourage. The idea of Dana moving on with her life makes me feel lighter, like maybe I can finally move on, too. Like there’s no reason to keep myself tied to Wildwood Farm.

  “It’s just that the investigation is going to take even more time, and they have yet to find any leads on any of the horses. I just . . . I can’t stay. It’s too hard.”

  “You know I understand, right?” I insist.

  “Of course you do, you better than anyone.” Her weathered face softens with empathy.

  “Dana, you’ve been amazing. But go. You don’t need to spend every free moment here. I’m okay. I’ll figure it out. And I’ll call you if I need anything—like a ride to Kentucky,” I joke. “Actually, I do need one thing.”

  “Sure.”

  “Clothes. Now that my casts are off, I don’t ever want to see a hospital gown again.”

  “I already got you covered,” she says and points to the small chest of drawers under the window sill. “I brought you a couple of my things when you . . . before you woke up. Just a pair of jeans, some sweat pants, a few shirts. I figured we’re about the same size. I thought if I acted like you were going to wake up then it would help.”

  “Thanks,” I whisper. Seeing her get emotional is almost too much to bear. “You must’ve done something right.”

  “And your boots,” Dana continues, making a lightning fast wipe at her face. “They made it, actually. They’re in the bottom drawer. The nurses were going to t
hrow them away with the clothes they cut off you, but I saved them.” She stands up and pulls a sleeveless white shirt and a pair of gray sweatpants out of the drawer. “Are these okay for now?”

  “Anything is better than this,” I answer with a grimace. She sets them on the end of my bed and sits down beside me. “You are unbelievable. I don’t know what I would’ve done without you,” I say. Her face falls, heavy with guilt. “Dana, no. You have to go. It’s time for you to take care of yourself.”

  “Promise?”

  “I promise. I think Vanessa is going to be a really great friend. I have a feeling she’ll want to help once they let me out.”

  “I almost forgot,” Dana says and pulls her purse into her lap. “Vanessa gave me something for you. She said she forgot to give it to you earlier.”

  Dana retrieves a black velvet pouch from her purse and hands it to me. I pull apart the drawstring and pluck a delicate silver ring from the bag. The band coils around an oval jewel. Its iridescent surface shifts with every movement. As I slip the band around my finger, the stone turns a luminous shade of purple.

  “What is that? A mood ring?” Dana laughs.

  “Probably,” I smile, although somehow I’m sure it’s not.

  Dana’s face is suddenly serious. “She seems like a good person. I’m glad you have her.”

  “Are you leaving soon?” My throat constricts at the thought of not seeing Dana every day.

  “Tomorrow. If I got the go-ahead from you, that is. This job offer came out of left field. They needed an answer pretty quickly.”

  “Well, you’ve got it. But you better stay in touch.” I work to keep my voice from cracking.

  “Are you kidding?” She pulls me into a fierce hug. “I’m going to miss you, Tee.” She tugs at a strand of my hair. It looks darker in her fingers. “Your hair has gotten really long,” she muses, cocking her head to the side. “Of course I only see it under baseball caps.”

  “Yeah, yeah.” We stall in the silence, neither of us particularly comfortable with parting words.