“What’s wrong, did your shoe come untied?”
“Devon, be serious, Mom is gone, my father is freaking out. Both her cell phone and Analise’s have been disconnected.”
“I don’t keep track of them every minute of the day. I have a full schedule, you know,” Devon stated. She upended the bourbon.
“Of shopping and boozing,” he replied. “Full schedule indeed.”
“I have my hobbies, what’s your point?” Devon sneered. “They left this morning for Italy, a trip they’ve been planning forever. If you didn’t have your head in someone else’s crotch you would have known.”
“Why do you hate me?” he asked, is voice weary. “Are you drunk?”
Devon sighed. “One has nothing to do with the other. Wait, maybe one has everything to do with the other.”
“Are you blaming me for your alcoholism?”
“I’m not an alcoholic. I am a booze enthusiast, a liquor liker, a cocktail connoisseur. I don’t hate you but it’s easy to blame you for my shitty life, especially since you are the reason for it. And, no, I’m not drunk, but I’m working on it.”
“That’s always your answer, isn’t it?”
“My life, my liver. Bye now, you’re ruining my buzz.”
“Wait! Devon, I’m sorry about the divorce thing but it’s time for me to live my life.”
Devon giggled, “I don’t give a damn if you want a divorce. I’m mourning the past nine years of my own life. I’ve lived as a nun for almost a decade, but without the dedicating myself to God part.” She hiccupped and started laughing.
“Oh, Jesus, you’re wasted,” She heard him sigh, the same sigh he exhaled each night before taking his pillow and trudging to the guest room, the room that eventually become his permanent space.
She imagined the disdain on his face in the furrow between his brows, the pout of his mouth. Her drinking soured his beautiful face, an unforgivable crime.
“You know I never loved you,” she stated. “Not like I should have. Not like you deserve.”
“I know that, Devon. She made me marry you. I still don’t know why it was so important.”
He sounded fraught. She wondered if he wore his lemon face.
“They probably thought you were going to be a flaming queer and didn’t want you to ruin your father’s political chances.” She raised her brow and smirked, enjoying riling his temper. “Instead, you were a womanizing man-whore.”
“And you are a frigid lush, my dear.”
“I’ll drink to that.” Devon snickered but the sting of his comment made her flinch. He made it easy to polish off the rest of the bottle.
She felt him smile. “Where are you, anyway?”
“I’m on my way to the cabin.”
“Mom sold the cabin years ago. I can’t believe you forgot you threw such a fit.”
“Oh,” Devon frowned. How could that detail have slipped her mind? She had been upset about Claire’s decision to sell it. “Wow, oh yeah. I remember now. I guess I’ll get a hotel.”
“Are you going to be okay?”
“Sure,” Devon said. “So who is she? Who is the super-hero who untied you from your mommy’s apron?
“Lynette Carson.”
Devon snorted. Lynette Carson was Trevor’s financial planner. She was a perfectly lovely woman with fair skin and dark hair. She had a broad step and an easy smile. She resembled Devon but was practically the image of the matriarch of the family, Trevor’s own mother, Claire Danforth. Talk about mommy issues.
“Does Claire know?”
“I was planning on telling her but as you know, I can’t.”
“Well, I hope it all works out for you.”
“I’m sorry it didn’t work out with us,” Trevor said.
“Oh please, you were never in love, either,” Devon said. “We never had any chemistry between us. You’re like a brother to me.”
“Well then why didn’t you ever find anyone?”
Devon clutched the arrowhead. “Maybe I’m not relationship material.”
“Everyone needs love.”
Moon woke up when she heard his voice. She stood on the bed and barked at the phone.
Devon put her finger to her lips.
“Yea, tell Moon thanks for tossing my shoes into the garden.”
Devon smiled. “What makes you think it was her?”
“The teeth marks.”
“Again, what makes you think it was her?”
Trevor chuckled. “Actually, I always thought you were a lesbian.”
“Why the hell would you think that?” Devon demanded.
“Just a feeling.”
“Why, because I didn’t want to screw you?” Devon snarled. “Well screw you!”
Devon hung up on him and glared at the phone. What a pompous ass. She turned off the light. If she had known what her life was going to be like she would have climbed out the window on her wedding day.
* * * *
“Watch this, Mother.” Devon smiled amid a billow of white lace. “Claire, watch. Moon, come here please.”
Moon obeyed and sat before Devon, awaiting her task.
“Moon, please find my garter. It is blue, like this handkerchief.” She showed the handkerchief to Moon. “It goes here on my thigh.”
Moon began to look around to the delight of everyone in the room. She snuffled around the dressing table, around the layers of silk that flowed from Devon’s bodice. She sniffed around until she discovered the garter behind the wing chair. She brought it to Devon and placed it on her lap.
“What a good girl!” Claire exclaimed. “She’s a good puppy, oh, yes she is.”
“We don’t do that, Aunt Claire. Just tell her she did a fine job. Thanks, Moon,” she kissed her dog’s nose. “Now will you bring us a bottle of champagne?”
“Oh, this I have to see,” Claire, gushed.
Moon left the dressing room and returned carrying a small tote bag.
“Thank you, Moon, would you like a sip?” Devon asked. She removed the bottle of champagne from the bag.
Moon barked twice.
“She doesn’t drink,” Devon said. “I put bottles of wine and cold drinks in the bags for her. She knows how to open the fridge she even knows the difference in soda. I’ll show you.
“Moon, will you please bring Linda a can of soda? She can’t drink champagne because she’s pregnant.”
Moon left the room and returned a few minutes later carrying a small bag with a can of cola in it. She brought it to Linda, one of Devon’s bridesmaids. She barked a few times and finished it off with a yowl.
“Moon offers congratulations on the news of your baby,” Devon interpreted.
Everyone laughed.
“She is a wonder,” Analise said, opening the champagne. “What an astonishing amount of training in a short period of time, dear. I am proud of your dedication and commitment.”
“She makes it easy,” Devon smiled at Moon.
Claire retrieved some glasses and filled them for a toast. She raised her glass with a shaking hand.
“To Devon. I am proud to call you daughter.”
“Beautiful sentiment,” Analise cheered.
Devon could have sworn she saw real emotion in her eyes, but, Claire had a talent to manipulate. Devon felt the Puppet Master pull the strings to draw the pose that would animate her for the next nine years.
She forced a smile and touched Claire’s glass. She watched as Moon padded to the window. She howled at a black bird on the outside ledge. The bird squawked and took off. Devon sighed, lucky bird, free to fly. The future Mrs. Trevor Danforth, a bird in a cage, gulped down her glass of champagne and was in dire need of a refill.
* * * *
She was still unable to fathom why they forced her to marry Trevor, or why she agreed to it. Analise was devastated when they found out Trevor was sterile. She hounded Devon for grandchildren from the second she married Trevor. The fact was she did not want kids. Claire agreed with Devon, which caused a
rift between Analise and Claire that lasted almost a year. Why did her mother care whether or not she reproduced and why would Claire be so against it?
She was already accustomed to the idea of her mother and Claire. She stroked the arrowhead, its texture comforting and familiar, and although she hadn’t worn it for so long, each serration still remained etched in her memory.
She kissed the arrowhead and snuggled against Moon. It was as if Jameson was with her.
Chapter Eight
Devon woke up in the dingy motel. She went to rustle up some breakfast. She found the motel diner to be as grungy as the room but the coffee was hot and strong and the cheese omelet she got for Moon didn’t look half-bad. Devon took the food back to her room and nibbled on toast as she watched Moon gobble the omelet.
“How was it?” Devon asked.
Moon gave her a kiss, jumped on the bed, and burrowed under the covers.
“Don’t tell me you like it here,” Devon laughed. She splashed the last of the bourbon into her coffee. “This is just a pit stop. I really want to see if that tepee store is still there.”
Moon gave her a muffled bark from under the covers.
“We can stay one more night, I suppose. I wouldn’t mind unwinding here in the middle of nowhere but I need to find a store to get a few things.”
She gulped down her spiked coffee and noticed Moon peering at her from under the covers.
“You stay here. I’ll be back as soon as I can. I’m going to find my way into whatever town we’re in and get a few things we need.”
Moon moaned, her way of telling Devon she knew she was after more whisky.
“Try not to make any noise,” Devon warned, “In fact you better hide in the bathroom until I get back. Go on.”
Moon went into the bathroom and flopped down on the floor.
“Thank you,” Devon said. “Now even if you hear something outside this door, try not to bark or yowl or talk or utter any of your adorable sounds. If they know I have you in here they will throw us out. Got it?”
Moon barked once.
“Very good I’ll be right back.”
Their room was on the second level with a bleak view of the parking lot and the highway. Devon left the room disappointed it had begun to flurry. She wasn’t good at driving in snow, worse yet in ice or flurries. She put out the ‘do not disturb’ sign. She raced to her car, jumped in and cranked up the heater.
“I hate cold,” she mumbled. “Maybe I should have gone south instead. The Florida Keys are about eighty degrees right now. That sounds like heaven. Maybe my quest for the west can wait until after winter.”
When she put her car in drive, she noticed the raven on the hood of her Range Rover, peering at her through the windshield.
Devon jumped in her seat and punched the brakes. The car’s sudden movement didn't disturb the raven. It inspected her through the windshield. Devon put the car in park and leaned forward, intrigued. The raven leaned in for a closer look at her. It hopped forward and tapped the windshield with its beak. Devon felt a chill that wasn’t from the cold weather when she thought she heard it speak.
Keep going west. That is where your destiny awaits.
“What?” Devon recoiled. “Did you say something? Did you speak?”
Fly high and you can see more clearly.
“This isn’t real,” Devon, breathed. “I mean I know some birds can talk, but…”
The West will offer many gifts. Keep going and you will find your heart.
“This is what I get for drinking in the morning,” Devon moaned.
The snow covered the windshield in a matter of seconds. She hit the wipers and watched the raven fly away and land on the second story railing in front of her room.
Her purse was on the seat beside her, a bountiful bag filled with everything from feminine necessities to a little twenty five-caliber pistol she owned but never fired. She plucked the book from her purse and re-read what she’d learned earlier about the raven.
“Change of consciousness, courage, knowledge,” she smiled. “Shape-shifting and magic. That sounds like fun.”
She read, “Raven black with eyes so cold, does bring secrets yet untold, mysteries dark and magic old, fly high and knowledge is bestowed.”
She shut the book and put it on the seat.
“I’ll fly but I’m going to need a little Wild Turkey to help me.”
* * * *
It never would have happened if Devon had been there. Moon usually had more self-control. Without Devon to stop her Moon could not resist.
“Nice doggy,” the housekeeper begged, as a stream of urine flowed down her thigh. “You sit, okay? Sit!”
Moon had her pinned against the wall, her head bowed in battle pose. Devon always told her she should not bark. The growl came from deep inside, a feeling dark and foreign. The woman had something she wanted and it brought out a wild need. Moon was aware that her lips spread back and exposed her teeth. She observed, with contempt, as the woman slid against the wall. Her skirt hiked up, exposing her soiled panties. Moon realized the woman was untrained, but also understood fear made her lose her bladder.
Yes, the woman feared her. Moon smelled it over her urine and flowery perfume and cigarettes. Moon felt shame she instilled this terror but her urge was feral and unstoppable. She had something Moon tasted once and remembered the punishment. Even that could not stop her. Moon plunged ahead lead by her instincts.
* * * *
Devon heard the screams from the parking lot. She rushed up the slick stairs to the room to find Moon lounging on the bed with a Snickers bar between her front paws attempting to peel back the wrapper.
The housekeeper screamed as if Satan had rammed a trident up her ass.
“It attacked me! It tried to kill me!” the woman wailed as she backed out of the room. “It attacked me!”
“She just wanted your chocolate,” Devon replied, plucking the candy bar from Moon. She tossed it into the trash.
“You know better than that,” Devon scolded Moon. “Chocolate can kill you.”
Moon slunk off the bed and into the bathroom where she huddled between the toilet and the tub, shaking.
“I’m telling my manager you have a wild animal in the room,” the woman warned, adjusting her uniform. “You can go to jail, you know. I can call animal control.”
“Don’t bother, we’re checking out now,” Devon stated as she tossed her suitcase on the bed. “So much for the do not disturb sign.” She ushered the housekeeper out, closed the door, and didn’t waste any time packing.
“You don’t even care your dog tried to bite me. You’re as mean as she is, mean and cold,” the housekeeper called through the door. “You’re heartless.”
“So I’ve heard,” Devon sighed, zipping her suitcase. “Let’s go, Moon, now!”
She shouldered her bag and put Moon on a short tether. Devon fished a hundred dollar bill out of her wallet and slapped it on the nightstand. When she opened the door, the housekeeper blocked the door with her hand on her hips.
“I left you a tip that will more than compensate for the loss of your candy bar as well as the loss of your bladder.” Devon forced a smile. “Step aside, please.”
“I should call the cops, you know,” the housekeeper responded hedging around Devon to get back into the room, eyeing her ample tip. “I still might.”
“I’ll bet you a hundred bucks you won’t.”
As she loaded Moon and her bags into the car, the housekeeper called down to her, “Have a nice day!” She waved the hundred. “Thanks, lady!”
“You’re welcome,” Devon called back. She rolled her eyes and muttered, “Now that was one expensive candy bar.”
Moon sat on the seat beside her and barked once.
“I wasn’t talking to you,” Devon snapped “You know chocolate is bad for you. We have been through this before.” She was an expert as she poured whiskey from a new bottle into her can of cola. “Not to mention you scared the hell out of tha
t lady. What if she had a heart condition? You could have scared her to death.”
Moon hopped into the back seat of the Range Rover. She slumped down and sighed. The scuttle over the candy bar had not been worth it. She disliked it when Devon was upset with her. It made her stomach boil and her eyes wet and nothing was any good at all. No treat, no run in the woods, no car ride, nothing was any good when Devon was mad. Moon closed her eyes, let the car ride lull her to sleep, and dreamed a disturbing dream.
In her dream, Moon was running in the snow, chasing a jackrabbit, not for prey, but for sport. The rabbit disappeared behind a tree, Moon stopped to track it. Behind her, she heard the voices of men. Her hair bristled and her ears went back. The voices were loud and angry. They were getting closer. The jackrabbit appeared from behind the tree. Moon heard gunshots.
Run, my brother, they are here to hunt you.
The voices became loud and boastful. In the distance, a woman screamed.
It is not me they are hunting, my sister. It is you.
The snow became stained red, the world started to go dim and hazy. Her legs gave way and Moon fell into the cold snow. The voices, though close now, grew distant.
Do not fear, my sister, I will see you through to the other side.
The stereo blared and Moon woke with a start. She sat up and looked at the countryside eerily similar to that in her dream. She thought she saw the rabbit wink at her from behind a tree but the car was moving too fast to be sure.
Devon sang with the music. She changed as she did when she drank the dirty water during the day. She became loud, sometimes she fell down, and sometimes she would sleep the sleep of death. At these times, Moon stayed close by, ever conscious of her master’s breath and the rise and fall of her chest. Most of the time when she drank the dirty water, Devon cried. She was different when she drank at night.
Moon pressed her window button, pleased to see Devon had forgotten to lock it. It had begun to snow again and Moon stood with her head out of the window and let the cold wind dash her face. Tiny flurries tickled her eyes. Bad thoughts and bad dreams disappeared at seventy miles an hour and Moon had a difficult time keeping her eyes open against the wind. Her lips flapped and fluttered and Moon knew if she had the capacity to laugh this is how it would feel.
Long Snows Moon Page 5