There's Blood on the Moon Tonight

by Bryn Roar

  “Up to a point!”

  Bidwell let that echo hang ominously in the air. Let the imaginations of the parents before him do most of his convincing. “Now, as I’m sure you all know, once the virus has gone past a certain stage there’s no saving the victim. And people…let me tell you…death by rabies is one of the worst ways to go.” By now, most of the families in the church were wishing they had sent their children out of earshot. There would be more than a few nightlights left on past bedtime. Bidwell paused, certain that he had them in the palm of his hands now. “But that’s not going to happen, because we’re not going to let it happen. Am I right?”

  He waited for a response and he got it, too. Assorted A-mens! and Hear-Hears! filled the sanctuary.

  “So, first of all, the Pines are off limits to anyone but employees of the Center, as they attempt to ascertain if there are any more infected animals out there.”

  No one objected to this. Most people on Moon avoided the Pines at all costs anyway.

  "Secondly, I need you to be especially vigilant in the days to come. If you see any animals behaving strangely, call the Center at once. I’ve left pamphlets at the front door with a special number to call, as well as warning signs you'll want to keep an eye out for. It’s important you understand this, and make sure your children understand it as well! Do not approach any animal other than your own in the weeks to come. Keep your pets indoors and make certain they’ve had a current rabies vaccination…but be aware that just because they’ve had the vaccine, doesn’t necessarily mean they’re immune! If you notice that your cat or dog has been in a fight, within recent recall, call the Center immediately! We'll have to quarantine them for their own good. That can’t be helped.”

  Reverend Tipple approached the pulpit. “Is there anything else, Dr. Bidwell?”

  “Yes. One more thing. For the next few days I’d like for anyone who has spent any time lately in the Pines to come to my office for an examination.”

  Much to Bidwell’s obvious annoyance, Ham shot out of his seat again. “Is that really necessary? I mean, if my son says he hasn’t come into contact with that there dog, then that’s good enough for me!”

  “I’m sure you’re right, Ham. Rusty’s a good boy.” In the back, Rusty tried to melt into the pew. Some of the other kids sprinkled in the church snickered at the mention of Gnat’s name. “Unfortunately, it’s quite common for children to hold back on this sort of information. Even when asked point blank. I can’t begin to tell you how many kids have died needlessly over the years from this horrific illness. Anyone with kids knows this to be true: Children have a tendency to want to “Wish” the bad things away.”

  Rusty was appalled to see his parents actually nodding their heads in agreement! In fact, with that last statement Bidwell seemed to have scored his biggest points with the adults. Josie saw mothers and fathers eyeing their children suspiciously, the unexplained scrapes and cuts suddenly looming large and ominous in their collective consciousness.

  Dr. Bidwell concluded by saying, “If any of your children are currently ill or complaining of flu-like symptoms contact me immediately. I’m sure it’s nothing to be alarmed about, but as I said, we can’t be too careful. Some of you will be receiving personal calls from my office concerning appointments for your children. In those cases I implore you to heed my concerns with all due haste. I wouldn’t be calling if I didn’t have reason to worry. You’re welcome to attend the examinations with your children. I assure you, they will be quick and painless—”

  “Painless?” Betty Anne broke in. “I thought the only way to determine if someone has rabies was through a spinal tap, and that sure isn’t painless!”

  Clint Bidwell reddened. He was getting tired of hearing from that particular pew. “A spinal tap isn’t the sole method of detection,” he sighed. “Nor will I be employing that procedure. Now, as I was saying, the examinations will be brief, painless, and could very well save the life of your child.” He gave the congregation one last gleaming shark smile. “Thank you for your time.”

  Rusty, Tubby and Josie sat silent in the last pew, each lost in his or her own distress. They knew they’d soon be hearing from the doctor. They watched Bidwell leave the Alter and walk down the aisle, overflowing now with the departing congregation. Some concerned parents met him halfway down the passage; Emma Tolson was among them. Joel jumped off his sister’s lap. “I’m going outside.”

  Distracted, she nodded her head. “Huh? Oh, sure. Don’t get your clothes dirty.”

  When Joel was gone, Rusty turned to Josie. “We’ve got to talk this over with Buddy boy. I don’t like it.”

  “Me either, Gnat. Even if most of what he said is true, there’s no way we can trust the doc to give us a proper exam.”

  “Look at my mom fawn all over him,” Tubby said, sighing. He saw his father hanging back with Mr. Huggins, the two of them deep into their own private discussion. He was about to mention it to Rusty when both men looked to the back of the church. His dad and Mr. Huggins were gesturing for them to come over.

  They got up and pushed their way through the crowd milling in the aisle. “Fuck a damn duck,” said Rusty, under his breath. Josie pinched him in the arm for his blasphemy. “OW! Dog gone it, Big Red! That hurt!”

  “Then don’t you be cursing in church, Rusty.”

  “All right, all right! You didn’t have to pinch—”

  Ham loomed over him. He spoke directly to Josie. “You and Joel will be eating with us today, won’t you?”

  The question took Josie by surprise. For as long as she could remember, she’d always eaten with the Huggins’s on Sunday after church. Even when her dad was alive, and her family whole, she, Shayna, Joel, and her dad always broke bread with their next-door neighbors. Of course, Shayna hadn’t entered the Huggins’s domicile since her husband was lost at sea.

  “Sure, Uncle Ham. As always.”

  “Good.” He turned to Ralph and smiled broadly. “I’ve also invited your parents to come along, Ralph. That be all right by you to sup with us today?”

  Tubby returned the smile. “Sounds fine, sir.”

  Ham clapped Tubby on the back. “That’s the ticket!” He turned to Rusty and said, “Son, I want you to go on over to the museum and ask our friends there if they wouldn’t mind coming over for dinner today. Tell Bill I would consider it a personal favor.”

  Rusty looked even smaller staring up into his father’s face. He actually had to bend his head backward. “Sure thing, Pop. I’ll take Ralph and Red with me.”

  “Long as y’all are back by one o’clock. You know how your mother is about her food getting cold. I’ll tote Joel on up to our house, if that’s all right by you, Joe.”

  “Sure thing. Thanks, brown bear.”

  Tubby looked to his dad for a sign—his father managed a drawn smile before turning to Mr. Huggins again. Frank Tolson looked like Tubby felt: Scared shitless.

  *******

  Bud and his dad were leaving the museum for their usual Sunday brunch at the diner, when Tubby, Rusty and Josie came strolling up from the harbor. “Hey, guys,” said Bud, his eyes locked on Josie’s face. His heart skipped a beat. She looked good in that yellow dress.

  “If it ain’t the brothers Brown,” Rusty said, with a strained smile. “My dad wanted me to invite y’all over for dinner. He said he’d consider it a personal favor, Bilbo.”

  By the looks on his friends’ faces, Bud knew that a new development had taken place in their little island drama, probably at the church service. He spit on the ground in disgust. For the first time since he was a little boy he had actually begun to feel sustained happiness. Josie was the greatest thing to happen to him, and here was this dark cloud hanging over their heads that refused to blow over, ruining what should have been the best days of his life. He was also having trouble coming to terms with what his dad had told him, earlier up on the roof. All in all, he was beginning to feel as if he was fighting a killer rip tide, out by Crater Cove; swimming for
the nearby beach, only to find himself further and further from shore.

  His father accepted the invitation, even though it was standing tradition for them to eat brunch together on Sunday. It was hard to say no to Ham.

  If the weather was nice, the Huggins’s ate their Sunday dinners in the backyard, overlooking their private beach on Crater Cove. Jessie Huggins had built a large picnic table that could accommodate ten on each side. The same table Jessie and Ham had sat on a hundred times before, whenever they’d had a father/son discussion. Likewise, Ham and his boy. The sun-bleached table was a family heirloom; valued every bit as much as the one-hundred-year-old Grandfather clock in the hallway. By the time the rest had arrived in Bill’s Jeep, Betty Anne and Emma had pretty much gotten everything under way.

  With no small measure of relief, Tubby saw that his mother and Betty Anne Huggins were laughing together like old friends at a class reunion.

  Jumping off the back of the Jeep, Rusty echoed that sentiment. “They can’t be too upset if they’re carrying on like that. If I didn’t know better, I’d swear those two have been drinking!”

  Josie scanned the backyard, looking for her brother. She saw him playing down by the sandy bluff. He waved at her and then returned to his Match Box cars. “I’m gonna get Joel changed,” she said to Bud, grabbing his hand. “Mind coming over with me?”

  “We’ll be right back,” he said to Rusty over his shoulder, as Josie dragged him away.

  Rusty nodded and said to Tubby as an aside. “She’s gonna get Buddy boy up to date.”

  “Oh,” Tubby said, staring after them.

  They had all gathered at the picnic table, when Josie, Joel and Bud returned. Josie still had on the yellow dress but was now barefoot. Joel had on a pair of tan cotton shorts and a faded Ren & Stimpy T-shirt. A wax museum ball cap sat perched atop his bushy head.

  They slid onto the bench seat, alongside Tubby and Rusty. Ham led them all in prayer.

  Too nervous to eat Tubby toyed with his food; wondering what the grown ups had in mind for them. Whatever it was, it didn’t appear to be all that urgent. Everyone else was enjoying the delicious meal Mrs. Huggins had prepared: fried chicken, potatoes au-gratin, and corn on the cob, picked fresh that morning from Betty Anne’s own vegetable garden. A crisp Caesar Salad, and doughy soft yeast rolls rounded out the hi-caloric bounty. Seeing as how the usually neurotic Rusty Huggins was tucking into his chow, Tubby decided it was okay to put his fears aside for the time being, if not his diet.

  He put an ear of corn on his plate and a little bit of salad. It was all he could do to abstain from the rolls.

  Bill Brown told a joke that left everyone in stitches, and whatever tension had existed at the table melted away like the butter on the ears of steaming corn. Tubby couldn’t help but notice, though, how Mr. Brown kept glancing his and Rusty’s way…looking them in the eye.

  Especially at Rusty. As if Bilbo had something on his mind he wanted to tell them.

  Whatever it was, it went unannounced, and eventually Bill slid his empty plate to one side. “Okay, Hambone. That was mighty tasty, but Rusty said you had something you wanted to discuss?”

  The good cheer left the table at once. Tubby felt the tension ratchet up. Only Joel O’Hara seemed unaffected. He was putting away his fifth piece of chicken, his gluttony thus far unobserved by his sister.

  Wiping his mouth with a napkin, Ham nodded his head. “That’s right, Bilbo. As I’m sure you know by now, most forecasters have Jack runnin’ straight through us.”

  “That’s what I hear. Even if he misses us head on, Jack’s still liable to smack Moon a good one as he passes us by. Bud and I are going over to Beaufort tomorrow to get some steel shutters for the museum. That plywood we used for the last storm didn’t hold up too well.”

  “Steel shutters,” Frank Tolson said. “Yeah! That’s just what we need! You mind if I tag along with you?”

  “We’d love to have you, Frank. Is the nine a.m. ferry too early for you?”

  “Not at all.” He turned to the head of the table. “Ham, will you be joining us?”

  Ham shook his head. “Thank you, no. I still have my shutters from the last go-round. The reason I wanted you all here was to invite you along on the Betty Anne, when my family and I take her out to safer waters, come Tuesday afternoon. We’d be glad to have you aboard.”

  “You mean stay out on your boat until the hurricane passes?” Emma said, hiccupping. It had been a stressful morning, what with the approaching storm and rabies scare, but thanks to Betty Anne, who had spiked her tea with a generous dollop of whiskey, Emma was now numb to the anxiety. “Is it safe out there on the open sea?”

  Betty Anne patted her hand. “We’ll be heading away from the storm, Emma. We do it every time a really bad blow threatens us. Our livelihood is that boat, and you’d be surprised at what that big gal will hold. You get Frank to pack up your most precious things—you know, the things you can't replace with money—and Ham will stow them away neatly below deck. The Betty Anne has a special hold just for that purpose. That way your things won’t come out smelling like shrimp.” She looked to her husband and smiled. “Isn’t that right, brown sugar?”

  Ham chuckled. “That’s right, sweet tea.” He spoke softly to the Tolsons’. “Emma…Frank…no matter what Jack does to your business or home—we’ll help you fix her right back up. Ain’t that right, Billy boy?”

  Bill gave the new neighbors a wink and a smile. “It’s the Mooner way.”

  Bud thought his dad was being too charitable. Except for the Huggins’s, Mr. Pete, and Garfield, no one had offered them any assistance after the Red Eyed Man killed his mom. As if reading his troubled thoughts, Josie squeezed his knee under the table.

  Emma’s eyes grew moist. Frank bowed his head, a thousand-pound weight lifted from his shoulders. Now he could concentrate on his family’s welfare. “Thank you. All of you.” He looked to the head of the table again. “Ham, just let me know what I need to do.”

  “You go on to Beaufort tomorrow with Bill, and prepare to batten down your hatches at home. Whatever questions you have, he can answer them. He’s been through about as many of these storms as I have. And believe it or not, our homes were always here when we got back.”

  “Ham’s right, Frank. This is a bad one, but thanks to her elevation, Moon Island’ll still be here when Jack’s through with us. Hurricane Hugo ripped through here in ’89, but it didn’t take long to put everything right again.” He turned to Ham. “Can I let you know Tuesday morning? By then, we’ll have a good idea of what to expect. Of course, Buddy boy will be going with you in either event.”

  Ham nodded. He expected as much from Bill, whose whole life was tied up in that big building. “I’ll save you a spot, my friend. Just don’t you wait too long! I ‘spect we’ll have to shove off by six o’clock if I hope to get out of Jack’s way in time.”

  “Where we headed?” his wife asked him.

  “I’ll know better by Tuesday, Betty Anne, but since the Weather Channel has Jack rolling through us before the eye hits the mainland, smack dab in Beaufort, I’d say we’ll be plenty safe enough once we get outside of Wilmington.”

  Despite the potential disaster the storm represented, theCreeps listened to all this preparation talk with a heady sense of relief. They had all been expecting the worst, regarding Bidwell’s little “Rabies Talk” that morning.

  After dinner, Ham approached Josie and pulled her to one side. “Joe, do you think it would help if I asked your momma to come along with us?”

  Josie looked down at her feet, her toes digging into the sandy back yard. “No, sir, I’m afraid not. Joel and I will be there, though. You can be sure of that.”

  As Josie rejoined her friends, and the four of them began to head back up the street towards town, Ham called them back. His wife and Tubby’s folks flanked him, creating a united front. The only parent missing was Bill. He was down by the bluff, smoking a cigarette and talking on his cell phone. He look
ed worked up and agitated. Punching the air with his finger as he spoke into the phone.