Dinner at the Blue Moon Cafe

by Rick R. Reed

  But by God, he was outside, in the corridor, and the stairs were just ahead. He dashed for them, feeling the swipe of a hot claw cut through his skin as he ran. Once he reached the stairs, he half fell down them, ending up in a heap at the landing.

  He stared up into the eyes of the beast, knowing this would be the last thing he would ever see.

  It leaped into the air, fangs bared and growling.

  Jared curled into a small ball, praying everything would be over quickly.

  He scrunched his eyes together, imagining the impact of the heavy furred body atop his own… and for just one second his mind flashed on something strange: Thad. Good-bye, my love. So much for missed opportunities.

  But all was cut short as the blast of a gun rang through the air, deafening.

  Jared cringed as he felt the scorching heat of the bullet whiz by his ear. The hot smell of cordite filled his nostrils. And then Jared did experience the crushing weight of the beast. A dead weight, as the bloody body of the monster crashed down upon him.

  Making unintelligible noises, Jared struggled to get out from under the thing, already dripping blood from a clean hole right above its eyes.

  Jared curled into a small ball in a corner of the landing, staring, breathless, his heart feeling like it was beating about a thousand pulses per minute. Below him, the door to the lobby opened and closed, but Jared was too late to see who had come to his rescue. All he heard were quickly retreating footsteps.

  A scream lodged somewhere within his throat, but right now he was too shocked to let it emerge. He feared the beast, drawing great shuddering breaths before him, might find the energy to arise once more… and finish him off.

  Jared watched as the thing died. Watched as he heard the sounds of people moving above him, witnesses, neighbors who had seen it all. They were curiously silent as they moved about. Jared supposed they were as shocked as he.

  He looked up at the faces peering down at him from the landing above. It suddenly seemed as though he recognized none of them, although he had lived in this same building for the past four years. His ears rang. He didn’t know if it was from the gunshot moments ago, or if there was something seriously wrong with him.

  The faces above him swam in and out of darkness. Jared tried to swallow and found no moisture in his mouth. He tried to part his lips to say something to the by turns sympathetic, shocked, and disapproving faces above him, but nothing came out.

  The faces went dark once more, and Jared toppled over onto the landing.

  When he awakened, a woman he now remembered was named Grace crouched beside him and placed a cool washcloth on his forehead. She was a cherub-faced woman with lots of tattoos and dyed black hair. Near Grace stood several other people. It was as though fainting had rebooted his brain. He recognized the couple, Frank and Steve, who lived next door to him—and with whom he had once had a passionate three-way—and the Asian woman from two doors down who kept to herself.

  He licked his dry lips and said to Grace, “What will we do about the wolf?”

  Grace cocked her head, and her face filled with concern. A strand of black hair dropped down over her eyes. She wore a quilted bathrobe, and Jared remembered, oddly, that his mother used to have one like it.

  “What are you talking about, honey?”

  “The wolf. The monster.” Jared licked his lips again and felt silly saying it, but said it anyway. “You know, the werewolf.”

  “Hush now. There’s no such thing.”

  Jared got up to a sitting position. “Of course there is! It’s lying right there….” His voice trailed off as he looked to where the beast had lain at his feet, a bullet hole between its eyes.

  But now he saw only the body of a man lying there. Naked. Hairy and packed with hard muscle. The black stubble on his head looked coarse but perfectly complemented the smooth olive of his complexion. His lips were full, his nose Roman, and his face shadowed by a heavy beard. He would have been hot, had it not been for the bullet hole in his forehead.

  Had it not been for the fact he was dead….

  Chapter 16

  THAD HADN’T slept when he got home from his outing with Jared. He’d followed his friend’s advice when he left the bar, having “Sweet Cheeks” call a cab for him. Once he got home, he stood outside, watching the yellow taxi as it faded off into the distance and the darkness, and looked up at the full moon, which seemed distant, although its silvery light still managed to lend a black-and-white illumination to his familiar neighborhood.

  Thad had hoped that all the alcohol he had imbibed would help him fall into a quick, deep, and dreamless slumber, akin to passing out. But the ride home and now the cold night air seemed to have the opposite effect. He was wide-awake, nerves tingling.

  And wondering about Sam.

  He shook his head, knowing he shouldn’t do it, but he stood on the sidewalk and pulled his cell phone from his pocket. He remained drunk enough to leave inhibitions about the late night—or early morning—hour on a shelf and punched in Sam’s cell number.

  Voice mail.

  He punched in the landline for the apartment.

  Answering machine.

  He dialed the Blue Moon Café.

  “Thank you for calling the Blue Moon Café, where old world Italy meets Seattle and the result is delicioso. We are currently closed, but if you’d like to make a reservation—” Thad pressed the button to stop the call.

  He told me he wouldn’t be home. He told me he had to go out of town. Yeah, and where have I heard that song and dance before? Why, surprise, surprise… from Sam!

  Thad wondered what was really going on.

  And as thousands of drunken, spurned lovers have done since the dawn of time, he turned his thoughts to suspicion and, more specifically, suspicion that there was someone else in the picture.

  Thad considered briefly going inside and getting Edith, taking her out for a walk. It would be the sensible thing to do and perhaps give him time to calm the irrational thoughts going through his head. But another voice answered that Edith was most likely fast asleep and would continue to be so until morning. Edith could wait.

  So what was stopping him from doing what good sense and propriety told him not to? Nothing at all, Thad told himself as he began to walk rapidly toward the lake and the Blue Moon Café.

  I am going to get to the bottom of this. Tonight.

  As he walked he thought of Jared and his black stud, pictured them naked and in all sorts of different positions. The thought excited him until the images morphed into Sam with another guy, who stayed faceless in Thad’s imaginings, although he had a better, more ripped body than Thad did, and a bigger dick.

  Stop it! Thad forced the offending images to scurry from his conscious mind. He considered going home and just getting into bed. He knew tomorrow he would pay in more ways than one for all the martinis and the lack of sleep, not to mention barging in on Sam like an irrational and enraged jealous lover.

  Which is what I am.

  Thad picked up his pace, and before he knew it, he stood in front of the Blue Moon Café, sizing up the place like a burglar, his breath coming out in puffs of steam floating on the cold night air.

  What the hell am I thinking of doing? Am I going to slip around back to peep in the windows? Maybe I’ll succeed in scaring Sam’s poor mother out of her wits. Maybe Graziela will be waiting for me with a shotgun, a baseball bat, or a knife. She seems like a fighter, that one. Or maybe I’ll look into Sam’s bedroom and see what his secret is… and if it is, indeed, another man. Or maybe I’ll see him in bed with his brother, Giovanni, and uncover the shameful family secret.

  This last thought made Thad laugh out loud. He caught himself and looked around empty Green Lake Way to see if anyone had heard him.

  I’m turning into a lunatic. Go home. Go home.

  Thad shook his head, pulled out his cell, and tried Sam’s numbers once more. And once more got the same result.

  Why should anyone answer, stupid? They’re p
robably all asleep!

  Thad was on his way behind the building to do the Peeping Tom routine he had warned himself about when his cell phone began playing its familiar ringtone. Thank God, it’s Sam. He’s calling me back. The alcohol and his wounded heart conspired to create immediately a scene where Sam beckoned Thad inside and they would have a passionate reunion on a chopping block in the kitchen.

  But when he glanced down at the display of his phone, he was disappointed to see it was only Jared calling him. Probably just wants to brag about the fucking he got at the hands of that thug, TJ. I don’t know if I wanna hear it…. Thad pressed the Accept button anyway.

  “What? Did you have a hot time?” Suddenly weariness washed over Thad. It caught up with him all at once, making him feel like a fool out there alone in the middle of the night, planning to spy on a lover who most likely wasn’t even home.

  Jared didn’t say anything for several moments. But Thad could hear his breath, which sounded shaky and rapid, panting almost.

  “Look, sweetheart, I’m really not in the mood for an obscene phone call. And if you’re calling me while engaged in some filthy act of sexual congress, well, I am so not in the mood.”

  “Thad?”

  All at once Thad’s mood shifted to red alert. He could sense the terror in his friend’s voice in the plaintive way he spoke his name. He mashed the little cell closer to his ear. “Jared? Are you okay?” I knew that guy TJ was trouble!

  Jared’s voice came out in a quivering sigh.

  “Jared? Honey, what happened?” Thad found his worries and heartache about Sam replaced by concern over Jared. He couldn’t bear it if his friend was hurt…. He knew he should have stopped him from going home with TJ. “Is it TJ? Did he hurt you?”

  Jared’s voice was small. “No. No, nothing like that. Can you come over? Right now? I need you.”

  Thad was about to tell him he was on his way, but Jared had already hung up.

  He ended the call and looked up at the sky, which had turned to dull pewter gray. Dawn was arriving, and it had chased away the full moon. He looked over at the café and a light came on inside, in the back, in the kitchen. He was torn for only a few moments.

  Jared needed him. He placed another call on his cell, this time to the cab company.

  Chapter 17

  THE CAB had to drop Thad off down the block from Jared’s apartment building. When he stepped out of the taxi, Thad felt like he was stepping into a movie set. The front of Jared’s building blazed with light from TV crews and the flashing illumination from the roofs of Seattle police vehicles. Two-way radios squawked, audible even from where Thad stood in awe. He spied the familiar yellow of crime scene tape outside the building and draped over wooden horses. A crowd had gathered at the curb, watching the scene. Thad moved closer.

  “Hey, man, do you know what happened? Somebody said something about a murder down there.” An older guy, midfifties, stopped Thad as he headed toward the flashing lights and noise.

  A sick wave washed over Thad. “Was it another of those same killings?”

  “What do you mean?” The older man eyed him through rimless glasses.

  “You know,” Thad said impatiently. “The gay killings.”

  “You mean the werewolf?”

  Thad looked toward Jared’s building. He was only a few paces away. Oh God, please don’t let this involve Jared. I don’t think I could bear it. Thad closed his eyes for a minute and drew in a deep breath in a futile effort to calm his jangling nerves and thundering heart.

  “I don’t think so. What I heard was a shooting.”

  Thank God.

  What am I thinking! “Thank God?” For a shooting? What’s wrong with me? At least it wasn’t another of the killings where some poor guy was ripped to shreds. Maybe this was a robbery gone bad, something mundane like a drug- or gang-related murder.

  Thad never thought he would look at such horrible crimes and loss of life as a relief. Yet he did. At least it gave him a small measure of hope for Jared’s safety.

  He looked toward the street to see that the crowd had parted. Slack-jawed, he watched as paramedics wheeled a stretcher out of Jared’s front door. Atop it was a black rubber body bag, its zipper closed. For a moment it seemed all went hushed on the street. Thad looked to the older man he stood beside, who had also gone silent as he watched the grisly procession. He tapped the guy. “I gotta go.”

  Thad started walking briskly toward Jared’s building. Just because it was a shooting—and who knows if the guy on the street was even right about that?—didn’t mean Jared wasn’t involved.

  It doesn’t mean it’s not Jared in that bag.

  Violence happens all the time, most of it not perpetrated by werewolves.

  Thad had a queasy feeling in his gut, a terror he couldn’t deny as he hurried to the front of the apartment house where his friend lived.

  TJ had had a gun. I knew I shouldn’t have let Jared go home with him!

  As he neared the house, he stopped at the cordoned-off yard and struggled to make his way through the surging crowd. As he shouldered his way through to the front, a uniformed police officer put a hand on his chest. “I need you to stay behind the line, sir.”

  “But my friend lives in there! He could be that guy on the stretcher!” Thad cried.

  “I’m sorry, sir. This is a crime scene. We can’t allow you any further.”

  “But can you at least tell me who the victim was? Please, officer, I’m begging you.”

  The cop shook his head. “Body hasn’t been identified yet. Sorry.” He walked away.

  Helplessly, Thad watched as the paramedics loaded the stretcher into an ambulance.

  And then he saw something that lightened his heart, that almost made him laugh out loud with glee and relief.

  Jared.

  Blinking at the lights, reporters, and cops all gathered outside, he emerged from the building looking shaken and numb. His mouth hung open, and his eyes had a glazed aspect to them. He had a blanket thrown over his shoulders, and his feet were bare.

  Isn’t he cold? Thad wanted to take off his own shoes to give to Jared.

  He looked so hurt and vulnerable, it was all Thad could do not to push the officers standing guard out of his way so he could run to Jared and take him in his arms.

  What happened?

  Finally Thad could stand the suspense and the helplessness no longer. Eye contact and telepathy directed toward his friend were not working, so Thad called, “Jared! Jared! It’s me.”

  Jared slowly turned his head, and it took him several minutes scanning the faces of the crowd until his gaze lit on Thad. He stared at him for a bit, until Thad wasn’t sure if his friend even recognized him, then gave him a cockeyed grin. Jared trotted over to Thad, a uniformed police officer close behind. Jared said over his shoulder, “This is my friend. I need to talk to him.”

  “What happened, Jared? What happened? Are you okay?”

  Jared shrugged. “I guess. I almost died tonight.”

  Shock rattled through Thad; he took a step back. “Was it that guy TJ? Was he involved?”

  “I suspect he was involved, but he’s long gone. And no, he didn’t hurt me. He saved me, I think.”

  “I don’t understand.”

  “I don’t either.” Jared scratched his head. “Listen, I need to get some different clothes on and then go down to police headquarters and give a formal statement. After that I’ll come to you, okay? I’m sorry I made you come out like this, but when I called you, I didn’t know what else to do. I’ll tell you the whole story then. Can you wait?”

  “I don’t know. Who was on the stretcher?”

  Jared took on a faraway look. He shivered. “We can talk about that later. Okay? I don’t know if I’m ready to process this yet. Maybe getting it all out downtown will let me tell you what happened. You will so not believe it.”

  Thad watched, confused, as Jared walked away with the officer.

  WHEN THAD returned home, tendril
s of warm, burnished light crept over the eastern horizon. His apartment building looked golden in the soft-focus illumination. Thad wished his own mood matched the tranquility of the early morning. He hurried inside, where Edith waited by the door. If he could anthropomorphize her, he would have had her with her forepaws crossed over her chest, asking in a sullen voice, “Where have you been?”

  “Come on, come on. I know you have to do your business. I know you’re hungry.” Thad stooped to affix leash and harness to the dog, grabbed a tiny Nine West dog sweater at the last minute, and put that on her too. It was cold. Heading out the door, he pondered how grounding it was to have a dog in his life. As he watched Edith sniff a bush, then squat to pee beside it, he thought no matter what was going on—love affairs, shootings, werewolf murders—Edith stayed true to her agenda of short walks with bathroom breaks, two square meals a day, and lots of sleep.

  He loved the dog simply because she was so uncomplicated. Unlike everything else in his life….

  They hurried back inside Thad’s studio. He opened the blinds a little to let in the early morning light. The day looked like it was shaping up to be a sunny one, but Seattle was full of false promises when it came to sunny mornings. The days often ended up with gray clouds, rain, and wind.

  Thad sat down on the bed, feeling numb and sore. A headache buzzed just behind his eyes. He knew he needed desperately to sleep. Going all night without some of that magic REM stuff was not good for one’s health or one’s psyche.

  Yet he knew even if he lay back on the bed, as his weary body urged him to do, his racing mind—so full of questions—would not let him drift off. He thought of that old Robert Frost poem and the line in it that went something like “and miles to go before I sleep.” He reflected that the same poem also spoke of woods that were “lovely, dark, and deep,” and the thought gave him an odd chill. He called Edith to him, and when the dog hopped up on the bed, Thad pulled her onto his lap.

  What had happened to Jared?

  Where was Sam?