There's Blood on the Moon Tonight

by Bryn Roar

  “S’all right, son,” Frank said, laughing a little. “Just keep it in the locker room, hear?”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “Can I get you guys anything before I turn in?”

  “We’re good, Dad,” Tubby said.

  Trying hard not to laugh, Rusty just shook his head. The Tolsons’ really were like an old golly, gee-whiz, fifties-sitcom family. No wonder Tubby was such an anachronism!

  “All righty then. I’ll wake you early so you’ll both have time to shower before going to school. I probably won’t be here when you come home tomorrow, Ralph.”

  “That’s right. You’re going to Beaufort tomorrow with the Browns’, aren’t you? Can I come along, Dad?”

  “Sorry, kiddo. I already asked your mom and she nixed it. As it is, with the storm and all, you’ll probably miss school on Wednesday and Thursday. If it makes you feel any better you can help me put the new shutters up when I get home.”

  Ralph rolled his eyes. “Gee, thanks a million.”

  “Night, fellows.”

  “Goodnight, Dad.”

  “Night, Mr. T,” Rusty giggled.

  Tubby growled, “I pity the fool who don’t go night-night!” The tent walls rippled with their unbridled laughter.

  *******

  After the babysitting gig was over, Bud insisted on walking Josie home. First, they had to pick up her little brother. “This isn’t at all necessary,” she said, following Bud up the Huggins’ front steps. “Joel and I only have to go next door to get home.” The only light burning in the cabin was in the living room, where Ham was predictably tracking the progress of Hurricane Jack on the Weather Channel.

  Josie stopped at the screen door and whispered huskily in Bud’s ear. Her breath was moist and warm. “You just want to come over so you can take back the shorts and shirt I borrowed from you. You want to see me naked again…don’t you, Buddy boy?”

  Bud had to look in her face to see if she was joking. Her green eyes were alight with mischief. “Ha. Ha. Seriously, Red. Joel might be asleep. I can carry him—”

  “Don’t beg, boyo. It’s so unbecoming.”

  “You can be so exasperating, Joe! I’m not beg—”

  “Will you two please stop whispering out there,” said Ham from the sofa. “Sound like two bees buzzing around my porch light. BBbbbzzz! BBbbbzzz! BBbbbzzz!”

  Josie pushed in the screen door. “Sorry, Uncle Ham. Bud Brown was sexually harassing me out there!”

  “Josie!” Bud cried, his face turning bright red. He glanced over at Ham—the big man eyeing him as if he was a shark in his shrimp nets.

  “Oh, hush, you big baby. Brown bear knows I’m teasing.” Josie plopped down beside her uncle, pulling his beefy arm around her shoulders. “Joel asleep?”

  Ham looked back and forth at the two younguns. Bud was acting like a little boy caught with his hand in the cookie jar. His eyes kept blinking and his cheeks were as rosy as a white child’s paddled behind. Josie looked like the cat that swallowed the canary; a bit too pleased with herself, Ham thought to himself. Shoot! The girl was flat out enjoying Bud’s befuddlement! The sexual tension coming off of the two teenagers was as thick as an early morning fogbank on Crater Cove.

  Betty Anne had told him how Josie and Bud were officially an item now, but until he’d seen them carrying-on on his porch, he hadn’t believed it.

  Ham realized Josie had just asked him a question. “I’m sorry, Joey. What’d you say?”

  Josie gazed fondly on her uncle’s weathered countenance. Her father had bestowed the familial title on Ham the day of Josie’s birth. Ham did likewise after his son was born, naming Joe Rusty as both godfather and uncle to little Rusty Huggins. “S’all right, Uncle Ham. I asked if Joel was asleep in the guest room.”

  “Shayna came by and picked him up a while ago.”

  He looked over at Bud again. The boy looked as if he was about to wet his pants, the way he was squirming about. Boy? Ham thought to himself. Shiiitt! He’s a boy in terms of years only. That boy’s every bit as big as me!

  Ham was well aware of Bud’s reputation as a violent head-case. Hair-trigger temper, and all that. What a hat-full of horseshit that was! The same way all those rumors about Bill Brown being a wife killer were horseshit. Some people just liked to run their mouths too much. He’d been friends with the Browns’ ever since they moved to the island, back in 1988. Bud no more than a nubbin back then. Besides, he was also aware of how Bud had looked after Rusty all these years, not to mention his goddaughter.

  At the very least he owed the boy the benefit of the doubt. For the time being, anyway.

  He promised himself he’d have a chat with Bud the first chance he got. Right now, it was Josie’s turn to face the music. “Son, why don’t you go on home? Joey and I got some business we need to hash over.”

  Bud blinked stupidly in response. Finally his testosterone-addled brain got the message. “Call me,” he said to Josie, as he stumbled out the front door. They could hear him literally falling down the front steps.

  Josie laughed at her suddenly clumsy boyfriend. Bud’s hormones had robbed him of his usual grace under pressure. She felt Ham’s stern eyes upon her, and she turned to meet them. “Uh-oh. I’m gonna get the Birds and the Bees speech, aren’t I?” she said, without sarcasm or rancor. That’s okay, she thought, as she listened to her uncle’s words of admonition and abstinence. It was nice having someone care enough to remind her of such things.

  *******

  Ham watched Josie walk home from the cover of his front porch. She turned to wave at him as she rounded the lighthouse. He loved that girl as if she was his own, and was worried sick about her, too. Bud was a good kid, and it had always been obvious the two of them would someday get together. But he saw the way Bud looked Josie over, his teenage hormones doing his thinking for him. Josie too, for that matter. That girl’s too ripe for her own good! The two of them needed counseling before things got out of hand.

  After stuttering and sputtering for half-an-hour about “Waiting ‘til the Right Time,” Ham had finally been able to say what was on his mind. After that, and over Josie’s objections, he’d given her three-hundred-dollars to buy some new clothes and some…well, he’d left that part unsaid. By the way she’d covered herself with the couch pillows, though, Ham could tell Josie got the message. She needed a good fittin’ bra something desperate! Like one of those hillbilly gals in ‘Lil’ Abner, Josie O’Hara was busting out all over. Shayna hadn’t done right by her daughter at all. A growing girl like that needed certain things.

  He recalled how shamed Josie had been, when her monthlies first began two years ago, asking Betty Anne’s help in selecting the right tampons. Ham knew that Josie spent her own money on food and essentials for her family, and it killed him inside. Last month he’d seen her standing in line at the power company, waiting to pay the damn light bill! Something Shayna should’ve been doing. Ham tried to help, of course, but unless it was a special occasion, Josie wouldn’t hear of it. Like her daddy, the girl was fiercely proud. Tonight, Ham refused to take No for an answer. Telling her it was what her daddy would have expected of him. By God, it’s my got-damn duty, girl!

  That wasn’t the only thing worrying Ham. Josie’s mother had looked even worse than usual that evening. He’d almost refused to let Joel go home with her, but knew that would’ve been overstepping his bounds. If Josie didn’t get so closemouthed whenever the subject of her mother came up, Ham would have confided his concerns to her. Despite all that, Shayna had actually been halfway pleasant this time. Someone had been at the woman, though; roughed her up some, too. She was wearing a raincoat and sunglasses, in an attempt to cover up the damage. It didn’t work. Ham could see the bruises covering her face and legs, and the woman stank of sex.

  Funny thing was, she didn’t appear drunk at all. Just very, very sad. As if she’d seen herself in the mirror for the first time in eight long years.

  “Oh, Joe Rusty,” said Ham, looking up at the st
ars, “what a sad reflection that must’ve been.”

  *******

  Josie was nearly floating on air as she walked home. She couldn’t recall the last time she’d felt so loved before.

  Not since daddy was alive, that’s for sure! Including the one she’d gotten from Mr. Portman tonight, the four C-notes felt like a million bucks in her hand.

  She’d planned to buy some much-needed things for herself, anyway—but now she wouldn’t have to spend the babysitting money she’d already earmarked for groceries and new sneakers for Joel.

  Ham had fussed at her pretty good, too.

  Josie sighed, still feeling her uncle’s love and concern envelop her. She couldn’t recall the last time Shayna had enquired after her or her little brother.

  She opened Joel’s door and tiptoed over to his bed. Her little brother was asleep, clutching his Sponge Bob blankey. Sprawled out on top of the Spiderman comforter. The one Josie had bought for him last year. That and the Spidey sheets had cost her a pretty penny. She tucked him in, impressed that Shayna had taken the time to make sure he put on his PJ’s. The little weirdo preferred sleeping in his birthday suit. Josie kissed his freckled forehead and turned on his Snoopy nightlight, knowing how much he hated to wake up in the dark.

  She was opening her door when she heard the shower running in the bathroom across the hall. Was that her mother crying inside? She went to the bathroom and put her ear to the door. Sure enough, Shayna was sobbing in there. Probably coming off a bad drunk.

  Shayna’s bedroom door was ajar and Josie drifted inside. A pile of unkempt clothes on the bed caught her attention. Right beside the clothes was her mother’s raincoat, tossed quickly aside. The mini-skirt and the halter-top was the same outfit Shayna had worn out on Saturday night. The raincoat was not. Her mother must’ve come home for the coat before going next door to pick up Joel. That in itself was unusual. Shayna hated setting foot on the Huggins’s property, and she sure as hell didn't care what they thought of her style of dress—or lack thereof.

  Josie picked up her mother’s top and gasped aloud. The halter was in tatters, ripped in half. Her mother’s panties were missing altogether. The skirt was in somewhat better shape, though it reeked of sex. Josie dropped it and wiped her hands on her shorts. She placed her cheek on the bathroom door, listening to Shayna’s hitching sobs…

  *******

  Monday, October 11th, 2,004

  The last morning the O’Haras’ would ever spend together was a good one. At least for Josie. She awoke to the smell of smoke, and rushed out of her room, certain she’d find Joel up to some sort of mischief. To her surprise, it was only Shayna poking around the stove.

  Josie stood there in the kitchen doorway, staring at the woman’s back, wondering if a stranger had broken into their home. “Mom?”

  Shayna turned around, and Josie winced. A bouquet of bruises bloomed over her mother’s face. Sunglasses covered what Josie assumed were impressive shiners. “Morning, suge,” her mother said, attempting to smile. Josie could see it pained her to do so. “Go get Joel, would you, love? Tell him breakfast’ll be ready in a jiff.”

  “Mom, what happ—”

  Shayna shooed her away with the spatula. “Go on, baby doll. Go get your brother.”

  Josie did just that, waking Joel, and rushing back to the kitchen before her brother could roust himself and overhear their conversation.

  “Mom, are you all right?” Her mother didn’t answer, just kept prodding the bacon and eggs in the pan with her spatula. Shayna had on a bathrobe, which Josie suspected covered up other bruises as well. Seeing as how her mother usually walked around the house half-naked, this too seemed of import. “Mom, were you…”

  Josie couldn’t bring herself to say it out loud. RAPED. It was just too awful a word. Maybe the most inhuman word in the human vocabulary.

  She heard Shayna stifle a sob.

  “I-I’m not sure what happened to me. I must’ve hit rock bottom, because I had the worst case of D.T.’s a drunk ever had yesterday. Last thing I remember I was waking up from an awful…I mean awful dream, and walking home from only God knows where, my clothes torn to shreds, smelling of…To be honest I don’t really want to remember. So, please…let’s just leave it be. Okay, Joe?”

  Josie sat down at the table. “Sure, Mom, if that’s what you want.” Deep down she was relieved. As curious as Josie was, she was scared of hearing the truth. For the past eight years, Shayna had lived on the razor’s edge. Living the hard life of a boozehound; hopping from one seedy dive to another, in search of a peace that would always elude her in such places. The company Shayna kept was unimportant to her. As long as they could supply the liquor, she’d do anything they wanted. Josie knew this, and it both shamed and pained her. Although, to Shayna’s credit, she’d never once brought any of those men into her home. Josie liked to think it was because her mother still had some redeeming qualities left, that she didn’t want to bring a stranger around her children. Truth was, Shayna simply refused to share her marriage bed with another man.

  Josie brought the collar of her father’s Billy Joel T-shirt up to her nose and inhaled Joe Rusty’s long-ago scent. Old Spice, sun block, and the salty sea.

  Hey, Daddy. You seeing this?

  Shayna put a full plate before her and another one in front of Joel, now padding up to the table; his hair a red halo of frizz. His large green eyes ping-ponged between Josie and his mother. Shayna hadn’t prepared breakfast for him in years! Josie gave him a smile to put him at ease. He sat in his chair and gaped at the bruises on Shayna’s face.

  “Yikes! What the heck happened to you?”

  “Eat your breakfast, sweetie,” Josie said.

  Shayna sat down across from them and looked at her two kids, as if she hadn’t seen them in years. Josie was startled to see a tear run down from behind the dark shades. Shayna’s mouth trembled. “My babies. My poor, sweet babies. Can you ever forgive me?”

  “For what?” said Josie, though the litany was indeed long and onerous.

  Shayna shook her head and winced. “Take your pick, girl of mine. I’ve been a rotten mother and an even worse human being. If it’s all right with you and Joel, though, I’d like to try and do better by y’all from now on.”

  Josie didn’t know what to say. “I think that would be fine, Mom.”

  Joel said nothing at all. In fact, he looked rather unsettled by the whole business.

  After breakfast, Shayna went back to bed, complaining of a headache that had come on suddenly. Josie brought her some aspirin and a glass of water. Oddly enough, her mother still had on the sunglasses. Shayna took the Excedrin with shaking fingers. Josie saw that two of her mother’s fingernails were missing. The raw nail beds looked infected. She tried to give Shayna the water but her mother refused it. “No thank you, baby. Think I’ll just chew ‘em. Quicker that way, you know.”

  Josie was at the door when she remembered what Ham had asked her the day before. “Mom, in case you hadn’t heard, there’s a hurricane headed this way. Might get here early Wednesday. Uncle Ham wanted to know if you’d like to evacuate with us on his boat tomorrow night.” A dark cloud passed over Shayna’s face at the mention of her next door neighbor. And then it was gone, replaced with a curious, contemplative look.

  “I’ll let you know tonight. All right, suge? I’m too tired and I ache too bad to think on it right now.”

  “Sure, Momma.”

  “Josie?”

  “Yes, ma’am?”

  “I love you, baby.”

  Tears leapt to Josie’s eyes. “I love you too, Mom.”

  Later on Josie would recall that morning in great detail. The aroma of bacon crisping; her mother crying; the frightened, knowing look on her brother’s face; the sunglasses covering what must have been shining red eyes—and her mother’s last words: I love you…