There's Blood on the Moon Tonight

by Bryn Roar

  “Well…if a release isn’t attained.”

  “Release?” Josie said, blinking. “Oh! You mean ejaculation! Pfft! Pfft! Pfft!” she said, being vulgar herself.

  Rusty’s eyebrows rose up comically on his forehead. “Now who’s being nasty? But that’s exactly right, Red. Pfft! Pfft! Pfft! You see, once an erection is attained, seminal fluid begins to build up in the testes.”

  “Testicles.”

  “Yeah. Us vulgar guys call them balls or nuts.”

  Josie shook her head. “Why do boys have so many names for their privates?”

  “Tits, that’s another discussion altogether. Now where was I?”

  “Sperm builds up.”

  “Right. So it’s not the penis that hurts after being erect for so long…at least I don’t think it does,” he said scratching his head. “It’s the testicles that get sore from all that pent up pressure. Even if the erection goes down, the pressure in the nuts remains the same—for a while, anyway. Blue balls, is what they call it.”

  “Blue balls?”

  “Uh-huh, and I think the only way to relieve the ache is to take a cold shower, or ideally to…”

  “To attain release,” she said, getting it.

  “And Bingo was his name-o.”

  It was just as she had suspected. She took another deep breath and asked the next question on her mind. “So is there another way to attain release without having sex?”

  “Josie! Do you mean a blow job?!”

  The good humor left Josie’s face at once. “Excuse me? Do I look like Tansy feckin’ Wilky?”

  “I’m sorry,” said Rusty, clearly relieved. “I should’a known better. To my knowledge, though, the only other way is masturbation.”

  Josie nodded but said nothing more, too embarrassed to seek further advice.

  “You want to know how?”

  Looking down at her feet again, she nodded.

  “I’ve never done it myself, but I think every guy knows how. It’s like a baby bird knowing how to fly. From what I’ve heard, some dudes do it several times a day.”

  “Really?” Josie turned to face Rusty once more. Now that she knew her questions hadn’t disgusted him, her curiosity lost all inhibition. It also explained Tubby’s earlier indecency. She realized it was probably her skimpy bedtime attire that had gotten the poor kid all worked up. Several times a day! Wow! Boys never ceased to amaze her with their peculiarities. They were like monkeys, really.

  “See, once a dude hits puberty it doesn’t take much for him to get a boner.”

  “Jaysus pleezus. Do y’all really call ‘em that?”

  Rusty snickered. “Boner? Sure. Among other things. Morning wood. Stiffie. Chubby…and like I was saying, Tits, a dude can get one for no reason at all.”

  “Och! That’s so feckin’ weird.”

  “Ain’t it, though? I can hardly wait myself.”

  “So every time he gets a—an erection,” Josie couldn’t bring herself to say boner. “He’s building up pressure in his…”

  “Balls. Yeah. And like a water hose in a cartoon that’s built up too much pressure behind a knot, you’ve got to relieve that pressure somehow.”

  Josie nodded. “Gnat, you said you’ve read about this stuff? You’re not talking about our Sex Ed. book, are you? Because I don’t remember—”

  “Nah, it’s a book I ordered online. I bought it because I was worried about not reaching puberty yet. I was hoping it would tell me if it was abnormal or not. I’ll drop it off at your house. It explains all about masturbation; even how to do it. Pictures and all. Shiiit. It sure beats explaining it to you!”

  Josie hugged Rusty, relieved in a way that he hadn’t reached puberty. It made the whole discussion more clinical and less sexual in nature. She looked at him anew. His childlike build. The smooth coffee skin that never got pimples. His baby-fine jaw line. If you didn’t know Rusty, it would be easy to mistake him for a twelve-year-old kid. “Is it abnormal?” she asked him, as gently as she could.

  “Well, it sure as hell ain’t normal! Thing is, Joe, I haven’t even begun the early signs yet. Pimples, hair, none of that shit. Sometimes I wonder if that’s why I’m so scared of everything.”

  “Oh, yeah! Pimples, they make the man! That and a few curlies on your gnads. They’ll give you courage, sure.”

  “You what I mean, Joe.”

  “Stop it, Rusty. You’re not scared of everything.”

  “So why did I piss my fucking pants yesterday?”

  “Well, so did I…a little. You’re being too hard on yourself. To me you’re every bit as brave as Bud.” Rusty stared at Josie as if she’d lost her damn mind. “Don’t you give me that frosty look! What I mean is, it takes a lot more courage for you to stand up to your fears than it does for a big bloke like Bud.” Rusty’s eyebrows arched quizzically. “Listen, after what Bud went through, seeing what he did as a kid, well, it’s bound to effect how a person thinks and reacts to pressure. That sort of thing either breaks you or makes you stronger. In Bud’s case, we know it made him fierce. I’ll never forget something me dad said to Ham a long time ago. He said: ‘A man is made up of the storms he’s weathered…the rest is up to his heart.’ Now, I’ve got no idea where he got that, since me dad rarely picked up a book, and at the time I didn’t understand it at all. Now I think I do… I am what I am due to me father’s untimely death, how much I miss him, my mother’s alcoholism, and me silly damn brother who counts on me very every little thing! Storms I’ve weathered, see? They bring out the best…or the worst in you. The heart in you” She studied her friend for a moment. “In your case, love, I believe they’ll bring out the very best. Whether you know it or not, Rusty, you’ve the heart of a lion. You just haven’t weathered very many storms, that’s all! When you do, this grand heart of yours will shine through in a big damn way. In the meantime, don’t be in such a hurry to face those squalls. Lord knows they’ll find you soon enough. Besides, Simba, I love you just the way you is.”

  Rusty could only stare back at her. He and Josie had shared many heart-to-hearts before, but seldom like this. It made sense, what she was saying. Gave him hope like never before, even though his mom and dad must’ve told him the same thing a hundred different ways. You can love your parents and family, respect what they think and feel, but when it really comes down to it, it’s your best friends who know the shortcut between your ears. Finally, he hugged her, grateful that she was indeed his best friend.

  “Thanks, Joe. The feeling, as you know, girl, is mutual.” Rusty heard a knocking at the glass door and turned around. “Uh-oh. Look’s like trouble’s found us.”

  Joel had his freckled face pressed to the glass, peering inside. Josie turned on the marquee and unlocked the front door. The museum was now open for business. She wasn’t surprised to see an empty sidewalk behind her brother. The museum did little walk in business; it made most of its money on large mainlander groups, who reserved their tours weeks in advance.

  Joel was sporting his baggy beach-jams and a Snoopy T-shirt. His curly red hair was bushy and wild. He looked a little like that Jody kid from A Family Affair, which was weird, since her dad had looked like Uncle Bill, played by the always stoic Brian Keith (that is, if Mr. Keith had had red hair and freckles). Joel tucked his fishing pole and tackle box beside the front entrance, trying to be sly about it. He almost got past Josie but she was too fast for him. She grabbed her brother, kissing and hugging him as he fought off her mushy affections. “Your breakfast is in the back room, Freckle Butt. Put it in the microwave for a sec. Those eggs are ice cold by now.”

  “Hey, Rusty!” Joel said, ignoring his dopey sister. Rusty slapped Joel five on the kid’s way back to the break room, behind the concessions counter. There was a small kitchen back there.

  Josie followed in her brother’s strutting wake. “Shayna awake when you left?”

  Joel peeked into the take-out container as he opened the microwave door. He studied the controls before Josie pushed him aside.
“Nah, she passed out pretty early last night. She won’t wake up for a while. She drank a whole bottle of that Popeye stuff.”

  “Popov.”

  “Huh?”

  “Never mind.” Josie retrieved some clean flatware from the dish-rack beside the sink. She set a place for Joel at the small table the Browns’ used for most of their meals. “I’m sorry I left you alone with her last night, love.”

  Joel shrugged as if it was nothing, but Josie knew better. Her brother had always been a little afraid of Shayna when she was drinking, which was pretty much all the time these days. “You should’ve called,” he said, picking at the napkin in front of him.

  “I know. How ‘bout letting me make it up to you?”

  Joel looked up, his green eyes alight. “You’re finally gonna make me aCreep?”

  “No, baby. How many times have I got to tell you, you’re too young? Why don’t you start a club with kids your own age?”

  “Cause none of them like the same stuff as you guys! All those dweebs are interested in are video games. And don’t call me baby. I ain’t your damn baby!”

  The timer dinged and Josie retrieved the go-box from the microwave, wiping the smile from her face before she turned to face her brother again. “You’re right, Joel. I’m sorry.” She slid the scrambled eggs and sausage links onto a plate. Mr. Pete had been very generous. “Here,” she said, setting the steaming plate before him. “How ‘bout some toast with all that?”

  Joel nodded as he plowed into the eggs. Josie frowned, wondering if her brother had eaten anything last night. She poured him a glass of milk from the fridge and squirted in a healthy dollop of Hershey’s Syrup, just the way he liked it. The toast popped up, and as Josie buttered it, she asked her brother where he was planning on fishing.

  “The lake.”

  Josie sat down beside him. “No, tiger. Not today. In fact, for the time being, Lizard Lake is off limits.”

  Joel looked up from his eggs. “Huh?” Josie didn’t allow him to go swimming by himself, but fishing was one of his few loves. Never before had she banned him from his solo excursions by the sea or lake! “How come?”

  Josie couldn’t tell him the real reason. Joel was like Aunt Bee when it came to gossip. Quick to spread it around town. He’d never even been to the Bunker; nor knew of its existence. Quite frankly, he didn’t usually like walking that far. Like his mother, Joel had a lazy streak in him.

  “Because I said so, that’s why! Besides, I know why you’re wearing your swim trunks. I told you about swimming by yourself! What if you get a cramp?”

  “Well, that’s just great! The surf is too rough right now for fishing. What am I supposed to do all day? Hang out with Mom? Hold her hair for her while she barfs?”

  Despite herself, Josie smiled. “No, smartass. I told you I was going to make it up to you. I was kinda hoping you’d hang out with me and me boys today.”

  “Really, Joe? You mean it?” It was uncommon for his sister to let him hang around with her and her friends. “Will Buddy boy be along soon?” he asked. If there was anybody Joel looked up to more than his sister and Rusty Huggins it was Bud. To Joel, Bud Brown was an honest-to-god superhero. “I saw him and that Tolson kid walking into the woods beside the museum. I guess they didn’t see me waving at them from all the way up the road.”

  Josie smiled. She wondered what her brother would say when he found out Bud was now her boyfriend. “Bud and Ralph are just running an errand. They’ll be back in an hour or two. Now why don’t you go stow away your fishing gear and help Rusty in concessions? I’ve got to open up the box office.”

  *******

  Tubby followed his friend up Main Street. “How are we going to get past those research men and the sheriff? Gee, Bud, we’re not gonna cross the crime scene tape, are we?”

  Bud stopped dead in his tracks. “Crime scene tape? Ya’ll didn’t say anything about crime scene tape!”

  Tubby scratched the back of his head. Hadn’t he told them about the yellow tape? He realized he hadn’t. And neither had Josie. “Gosh, I’m sorry, Bud. I assumed Josie saw it, too. Does it really matter?”

  “Probably,” Bud said, rethinking their next move. “If there’s crime scene tape that means there’s evidence of a crime.” He saw the distressed look on Tubby’s face. “It’s all right, Ralph. Besides, this is probably good news. Might mean they’ve found the dog’s body! I guess a bullet hole in its head might constitute a crime at that. We’ll just have to take the long way ‘round.”

  They shouted hello at Rusty and Josie as they passed the lobby of the museum, but their friends were too engrossed in their conversation to notice them.

  “What do you suppose they’re talking about, huddled together like that?” Tubby asked. He wondered if Josie was telling Rusty what a disgusting pig they’d let into their club. His stomach constricted in a knot of dread.

  Instead of continuing up the street, Bud took a left at the end of the sidewalk. They skirted the side of the building where it met up with the Pines. A narrow grass alley was all that separated the building from the woods. Bud lit a cigarette and inhaled deeply. “They’re as close as twins, those two. Been friends all their lives. I didn’t come into the picture ‘til I was ten. Gnat may have a wet noodle for a spine, but he’d lay down his life for that girl if it came down to it. And Joe, she’d definitely do the same for him.”

  Tubby took that in. Once again, shame washed over him for the sordid act he’d perpetrated in Josie O’Hara’s own home. He made a solemn vow to himself that not only would he never betray his friends like that again, but that he’d also find a way to make amends for that atrocious sin.

  “By the way, Hoss…thanks for the Aurora model. I’ve been looking for Mr. Hyde since I was a wet-nosed kid! Is it true your collection is also minus that rare kit?”

  “Uh, huh.”

  “Well, I can’t accept it knowing that. I really appreciate the thought, but—

  “I want you to have it, Bud. I bought it for you.”

  Bud saw the look on Tubby’s face and knew that he meant it. Declining the gift would be tantamount to a slap in the face. “All right, my friend…and thanks again. It means a lot to me. Really.”

  Tubby shrugged, embarrassed by Bud’s gratitude. They walked past the building, where the backs of the stores on Main Street met up with a one-lane service road for deliveries and trash pick-ups. The Pines grew right up to the edge of this road as well. Bud pointed to a narrow corridor cutting into the woods at the far end of the service lane, the limbs of the pine trees on either side lacing together to form an evergreen roof. A rusty logging chain blocked the entrance. Twin sandy ruts meandered into the shady distance, a weedy median splitting them in two. “Cemetery Road,” he said. “Every family that has a loved one buried back there has a key to the lock on the chain. It’s a long walk, so most folks just drive their cars.”

  Bud and Ralph stepped over the chain together, the green gullet of the Pines swallowing them at once.

  *******

  Half an hour after opening and Josie had yet to sell a single ticket. She had her knees pressed into the counter of the box office. A paperback entitled The Lost lay opened on her thighs as she passed the time, sitting atop a stool. The author was Jack Ketchum; a writer that the owner of the Book Nook, Miss Beasley of all people, suggested she give a go. It wasn’t horror in the conventional sense, though the story was horrifying all the same. She was so into the dark plot, about a remorseless killer and the small town he lived in, that she was startled right off her stool when the phone rang beside her ear on the wall.

  “Dark Side of the Moon,” she answered shakily. “Where terror is a way of life.”