There's Blood on the Moon Tonight

by Bryn Roar

  To Tubby’s bewilderment, Garfield had left the two of them alone in his shop. “Hey Rusty,” he whispered, afraid of being overheard, even if they were by themselves.

  “Yeah?”

  “Um…is that fellow, you know, is he…gay?”

  “Gay as Gomer Pyle,” Rusty yawned. He shoved his glasses up on his nose, and went back to rifling through the second hand comic books.

  Tubby scratched his head again. What a weird way of answering his question, as indelicate as it may have been. Of course Gomer wasn’t gay! He was a Marine, and he sometimes dated that ditzy blonde singer who was tone deaf. Not that it really mattered; he’d just never known anyone personally who was homosexual—although he’d surely been accused enough of that predilection over the years. He went over to the counter and lifted the receiver from the orange paw of Garfield’s Garfield phone.

  The fat cat said something about lasagna that Tubby missed. He punched in his telephone number and took a deep breath. His mother answered right away. “Hello?”

  Tubby could picture her hovering over the phone, willing it to ring. “Ralphie?” she queried timidly. Tubby’s heart sank, knowing he’d put his mom through the ringer.

  “Hey Mom!” he said cheerily, to offset her distress. He spilled it out just like Rusty said, not giving her a chance to get a word in edgewise. “I’m sorry I didn’t call. I made some friends today at school and just lost track of time…. Where am I?” he said, repeating his mother’s question. He looked over at Rusty.

  Rusty whispered: “With me, you dumbass!”

  “I’m with me, you dum—No! Um, that is to say…I mean…I’m with Rusty Huggins? You know…the son of Mr. Ham? We’re just hanging out at Moon Man’s.”

  Hearing Tubby almost call his mother a dumbass, Rusty burst out laughing.

  “I don’t need an afternoon snack,” said Tubby, blushing. “Yes, I know I missed Andy Griffith, Mom. It comes on every day…. Dinner? Um, I don’t know. Let me ask him.” Tubby held the phone against his chest. “Rusty, would you like to have dinner with us?”

  Rusty looked up from the pile of comics he’d selected from the bin. There were some real good ones this week. “Depends, Opie. What’s on the menu?”

  Tubby’s forehead furrowed. “Uh, let’s see, it’s Friday, so that means Sloppy Joes, corn on the cob, and mom’s homemade potato chips.”

  “Really? Homemade potato chips? Dude, I’m so there! My mother always makes Hungarian Goulash on Fridays.” Rusty shivered in disgust. “Nasty stuff, that goulash. Man, I wouldn’t feed that shit to my worst enemy—and yet my mom feeds it to me every week.”

  Mollified by the news that there’d be a guest for dinner, Emma hung up to see to the preparations. Tubby continued to smile like an idiot as he waddled over to Rusty’s side. Not once had he ever had a friend over for dinner and he was having some trouble playing it cool.

  Rusty looked up to see Tubby grinning hugely at him. “What? Is my fly open? Got something green hanging out my nose? What’s with the dumb look, Opie?”

  Thumbing through the comics, Tubby just shrugged. “As a Beatle named Ringo once said, ‘I can’t help it, mate. It’s just me face.’”

  *******

  As soon as Bud saw the high-powered-water hosing down the tall flames over the treeline, he gestured to Josie it was time to get lost. They slid down into the Bunker. Bud was angry with himself for letting his friends talk him into pulling such an irresponsible stunt. He couldn’t believe he’d set his woods on fire, and on top of that had put at risk the lives of the men fighting it! What if another emergency—this one real, not manufactured—occurred while the fire department was fighting his stupid fire?

  The very idea made his stomach curdle.

  As Bud lit the candles on the coffee table, Josie commiserated. “Didn’t go off exactly as planned, huh?”

  “Arson rarely does,” he said, not knowing if that was in fact the truth.

  “Everything’s going to be all right, tiger. You’ll see,” she said, sitting beside him on the sofa.

  Bud’s leg, pressing into hers, sent a chill through Josie’s body. This was the first time the two of them had ever been alone in the Bunker. They’d been alone many times before, but this time seemed somehow different. Something had changed between them. Something new was in the air. The electric energy given off two healthy teenagers, sexually aware of one another for the first time.

  Josie’s heart thudded pleasantly hard in her chest, and there was a husky tremor to her voice that made her cough in surprise. Sounding both sexy and scared. The moment she’d waited for, for so long, was finally here! It was, she knew, the real reason she’d stayed behind with Bud. Although, if something were going to happen, it would to be up to her to make it happen. As brave as Bud Brown was, he would never go out on that particular limb.

  Bud looked over at his friend and straight into her catlike eyes. He’d always known that Josie had beautiful eyes but—Jeepers! as Tubby would say.

  You could lose yourself in eyes that friggin green, the color and texture of a dewy meadow gone wild. So intensely pastoral no contact lens could ever match their shining emerald hue. His own blue eyes opened wide as Josie leaned into him, her long eyelashes now lying flat against her flushed cheeks, her hand going to the back of his tense neck. Her long, cool fingers pressing into his fevered skin, pulling his rigid head towards hers, until, at long last, their lips met…

  *******

  “I’m afraid I have some rather bad news for you chaps,” Garfield said, upon re-entering his store.

  Rusty and Tubby stared at each other.

  Had the sheriff spotted them? Did Henderson catch Bud and Josie out by the lake? “What’s that?” Rusty asked, nervously adjusting his glasses. He saw the flutter in his fingers and dropped his hand by his side.

  “The Moon River Academy is not the source of that fire,” Garfield clucked sympathetically. “It’s out there in the boonies somewhere. Maybe one of those mad scientists finally blew up the Army Base. Can you just imagine?”

  Tubby wiped the flop sweat from his brow as Garfield manned his cash register. Tubby and Rusty put their selections on top of the glass counter and waited for Tim to ring them up. And speaking of Mad Scientists…

  Displayed in the glass case below was his heart’s desire! The pot of gold at the end of his rainbow. The treasure Tubby had been seeking for eight long years! Lined up in a row were all twelve glow-in-the-dark monster kits (in their original shrink-wrapped boxes!) that Aurora Models had released in the sixties and seventies. He had inherited his father’s Frankenstein monster and Dracula when he was just seven years old and they were the pride of his collection. Over the years, he’d managed to be the high bidder on e-Bay for a few more of his additions: The Wolfman, The Forgotten Prisoner of Castlemare, and The Creature from the Black Lagoon. All with their original packaging intact. The rest of his models ended up underneath a happy succession of Christmas trees: The Phantom of the Opera, The Hunchback of Notre Dame, Godzilla, King Kong, and just this holiday past: The Witch. There was only one hole left in his collection now: Dr. Jekyll/ Mr. Hyde. He could have bid on several already built kits but was holding out for one still in its box (obtaining the colorful, retro-looking boxes was half the fun in collecting monster models). He had just about given up hope on ever locating a Dr. Jekyll—turning into the maniacal Mr. Hyde—and here it was, right under his very nose! Holy Moly Mackinoly! This really is my lucky day!

  Rusty saw them, too. “Hot damn, Garfield! When did you get these bad boys? Wait till Bud hears you got Mr. Hyde! He’ll probably kiss you right on the lips!”

  “I just got them in this morning.” Tim blushed. Nothing made him happier than spreading around a little sunshine. Especially to a gloomy kid like Bud Brown. “I was just about to call your friend—now you can pass on the good news for me.”

  Tubby’s heart sank. “Bud collects Aurora Models?”

  “Except for Mr. Hyde, he’s got the whole dang set!
It’s the hardest to find in its original packaging. Ain’t that right, Timothy Garfield?”

  “It is indeed, Rustaford Huggins. I own a set just like them up in my apartment. Ahhh, you’ve discovered the EC comics, I see! Excellent selections, Mr. Tolson! Even if most are shorn of their classic covers. Did you know the EC line of comics helped influence some of today’s finest writers of the macabre?” he chattered away without pausing for a reply. “Will this be all, my good man?”

  Tubby glanced at Mr. Hyde before nodding his head. Maybe I can come back later to buy it…

  Outside, the two boys looked over their purchases. Tubby had bought all of the EC comics Rusty had passed on. Garfield was right. Even though their gory run was cut short back in the fifties by overzealous housewives and one grumpy psychiatrist, their influence was still being felt today. If not for EC, George Romero’s Living Dead creations would most likely still be interred in their graves. Even worse, the vast library of Stephen King might not exist at all were it not for the influence of this notorious line of pulps. Tubby shuddered at the thought.

  He had three Tales from the Crypt, two Vaults of Horror, and one dog-eared copy of the Haunt of Fear he couldn’t wait to read, the cover being spectacularly gruesome. Rusty had paid a small fortune on a six-inch stack of EC’s. Tubby was impressed by his friend’s wealth. The ones with their covers intact went for at least ten bucks apiece! Tubby could tell by the thick sheaf of bills still remaining in Rusty’s wallet that Mr. Huggins was far more generous than his own cheapskate father.

  Tubby didn’t recognize two of the titles.

  “Crime SuspenStories and Shock Comics. Huh! I’ve never seen one of these titles up close before. Just EC’s horror and Sci-Fi books.” He admired the colorful, spit-in-your-face artwork on the time-yellowed covers. The aroma of decaying pulp wafted up from the brittle pages. It was a fragile scent only a few could recognize and love. “Can I read them when you’re finished, Rusty?”

  “Sure thing, Opie. You can take ‘em home tonight after the meeting in fact.”

  Tubby squirmed on the curb. He wasn’t sure his mother would let him go out again after dark. He wondered if theCreeps would want him as a member when they learned his mommy still had him attached to her apron strings. He looked over his shoulder at Moon Man’s and remembered his backpack. “Gee, I forgot my book bag!”

  “Don’t shit your shorts, Sadie.” Rusty stood up and brushed off the seat of his pants. “C’mon. Let’s go get it.”

  “You stay here. I’ll get it. You think Garfield’ll let me use his facilities? I gotta tee-tee like crazy!”

  Rusty laughed. “Yeah, just try not to touch anything in his bathroom. If you do, your Petey might just fall right the fuck off.” Rusty shook his head as he watched Tubby waddle back over to the comic book store. “Gotta tee-tee. Shiiitt. That country boy might actually be Opie Taylor!”

  *******

  Josie opened her eyes and pulled back from Bud. It had been her first real kiss…and it was everything she’d ever dreamed it would be. She never thought a boy’s lips could be so soft! So deliciously warm.

  Bud opened his eyes and the two of them watched each other with bated breath. Afraid any sudden movements would scare off the other. He cleared his throat and reached up to touch his lips—as if the sensation of Josie’s kiss was still tingling upon them. “Wow.” He said, shoving the hair from his eyes, to better see her face.

  “Wow, yourself,” Josie grinned. She was enjoying Bud’s discomfiture in a way she never would have imagined possible. As if she’d suddenly discovered some secret super-power she’d never known she’d had before. She reached out and took Bud’s hand in hers. It surprised her that while his sweaty fingers trembled, hers remained steady and dry. “Are you sorry I did that?” she asked him, her teeth gleaming wetly from their kiss.

  “No,” Bud said. “You just took me by surprise, that’s all. But why?” he couldn’t help wondering aloud. “Why’d you do that, Red? Why’d you kiss me?”

  Josie smiled sweetly. “Because I’ve wanted to for a very long time…and I think you have, too. Kiss me, I mean. Am I wrong about that, Buddy boy?”

  “Um…I…that is…” Bud cleared his throat and turned his attention to the stuttering candles on the coffee table. The Bunker, usually so cool and earthy, was all at once hot and stuffy. He put a hand to his face and found it flush and inexplicably tense. To his irritation, he was finding it hard to form a coherent sentence with Josie looking at him that way. Her green eyes so predatory in the flickering light. He put one of the couch cushions over his lap to cover the embarrassing stirring in his Dickies. The memory of Josie’s wet shirt popped into his head, and Bud’s blush deepened. He cleared his throat again and fanned his feverish face with a Fantastic Four comic book. “To be honest, Josie, I never really thought you could go for a guy like me. But, yeah. I have thought about it,” he smiled. “Many times, in fact. You’ve got nice…lips.”

  Josie laughed. “You, too, Studly. She sighed contentedly, resting her head upon his shoulder.

  Bud stared wide-eyed into the dark. Barely able to breathe. Completely shocked and discombobulated by this startling turn of events. He was the kind of guy who needed to be in control every waking minute of his life. And yet Josie had usurped that control just as neatly as you please. It both frustrated and annoyed him. Even so, he liked the feel of Josie O’Hara’s head upon his shoulder.

  Yes. It felt like it belonged right there.

  *******

  Rusty was sitting on the sidewalk, reading his Shock comic book (a kick-ass tale about some Klan goon getting his comeuppance), when Tubby came out of Moon Man’s with two bottled Cokes in hand. He passed one over to Rusty, the bottle still frosty from Garfield’s cooler.

  “Thanks, my man. What took you so long? Did you get stuck to Garfield’s toilet seat? You do know what that man does in there, don’t you?”

  Tubby laughed, knowing for once he wasn’t the butt of the joke. Besides, he hadn’t used Garfield’s bathroom. The reason for his going back was nestled safely in his backpack. Bought and paid for. “I don’t know how you tee-tee, but myself? I do it standing up.”

  “Well, ain’tthat a motherfucker! Opie done ranked me out! Wait till I tell the otherCreeps! We’ll have to censure you for that boolshit!” He tossed back his head and let the cold Coke sear his parched throat.

  Tubby looked stricken. “Really? Gee whiz, Rusty! I was only fooling.”

  As the two of them walked down the dirt road named after his family, Rusty belched and shook his head. He realized he’d have to take it easy on Tubby for a while. A lifetime of cruelty had made the fat boy overly sensitive. A Fate that would have been his as well, if it hadn’t been for Bud Brown and Josie O’Hara. They’d looked after him, taken him under their capable wings.

  Maybe I could do the same thing for Opie…

  He patted Ralph on the back. “I was fooling, too, man. Don’t take what your friends say too personally, dude. I mean, if we can’t rank each other out, without hurting each other’s feelings, then who the hell can?”

  Tubby looked confused. “I guess I’ve got a lot to learn about friendship.” He smiled, realizing it was a darn good problem to have. Certainly better than the alternative!

  It took a little longer going down the road for the boys to get back to the Academy, leisurely strolling as they were. They stopped for a time on the front lawn of the campus to study the top of the treeline. Most of the smoke had dissipated. The fire seemed well under control now. Parked alongside the edge of the road were both the fire truck and the Sheriff’s car—the Oyster Trail running through the Pines being too narrow for vehicles to pass through. Connected to the fireplug outside of the Academy was a pair of hoses, trailing across the road and into the woods, the canvass alive with pressure.

  “At least the Pines won’t burn down,” Rusty said. “I sure hope Bud and Big Red are okay, though.”