Valley of the Moon

by Bronwyn Archer

  “Please command your minions to apologize to Piper,” I said. Cressida’s perfectly sculpted eyebrows shot up. Ginger’s face turned from gloat to surprise. Piper’s mouth dropped.

  Cressida’s eyes narrowed. “Careful, Lana.”

  “Why? What are you going to do? Send Mommy to spank us?” I said coolly. “She’s not my mother anymore, Cressida. Thank God.” Her face turned to granite and her pale blue eyes frosted over. I stared back at her, a thrill of power coursing through me.

  And maybe a tiny twinge of panic, too. I turned and glided up the stairs to class, feeling their eyes on me.

  I walked as slowly as I dared. But my instincts told me to run.

  ***

  I pulled into the empty parking lot behind the shop. An engine light had blinked on in my Golf that morning and I knew Cesar would fix it for me. I slunk down low in the front seat to change out of my school uniform. I refused to go out in public in it

  I pulled on a pair of jeans, and then unbuttoned my uniform skirt and blouse. I quickly shrugged my blouse off and pulled on a t-shirt. Finally, I laced up my sneakers and shook my hair loose from its ponytail. I grabbed my keys and phone and stepped out of the car.

  When I got to the open door of the garage, I peeked inside.

  “Cesar?” I called. “Do you have time to look at my car today?”

  But the garage was empty.

  Not empty—more like deserted in a big hurry. A half-dismantled Mustang sat in the corner. There were parts everywhere. A radio was playing, tuned to a Spanish music station. The acrid smell of gasoline stung my nostrils. But no Cesar.

  I turned to head over to the main building.

  That’s when I saw the man standing by the back door of the shop. He took a long drag off a cigarette. Where did he come from?

  He was broad and barrel-chested and sported an unusual outfit for Glen Ellen. Black jacket, black pants, and black shoes made of some kind of reptile skin. A shiny black dress shirt with the top three buttons unbuttoned. A round medallion on a gold chain nestled in the pelt of chest hair that went all the way up to his clavicle. A neck tattoo peeked above his collar. He was bald, but there was a ring of buzzed stubble around the sides.

  Deep-set eyes locked onto me as I walked towards him. His face was tan and weathered and his jaw was covered in gray stubble. His nose was dented across the bridge, like he’d taken a frying pan to the face edge-on. He looked like he could snap a man’s femur in half with a swift chop. He was handsome in a brutal, terrifying way.

  “Hello.” He smelled like he bathed in gasoline and cologne.

  “Hello, Lana.” That accent. I’d heard it before. Was this Victor? “I like your uniform better.”

  The polite smile froze on my face. He watched you change. I swallowed and shifted nervously on my feet.

  “Oh, I didn't think anyone was out here,” I managed to squeak. He tried to smile but his face didn’t seem to know how to accommodate the unusual request from his cheek muscles. His lips parted, displaying small yellow teeth. He flicked his cigarette to the ground and squashed it with a reptilian loafer.

  “Much prettier than your school picture,” he said. “Not so many freckles.” My picture? I stared at him dumbly. He was in my dad’s office. Checking out my photo.

  Cold fingers of fear curled around my insides. I ducked into the shop.

  The man had not come alone.

  Two other guys loitered in the middle of the showroom. They were younger than the smoker and in much better shape. They were both dressed in black jeans and tight black t-shirts. The taller one had close-cropped dark hair and complicated tattoos running up both arms that disappeared underneath his shirtsleeves. The shorter guy had a wispy ponytail of dark hair that hung down to the middle of his back.

  Heels clicked across the glossy floor. A woman stalked in a circle around a light blue vintage Mercedes convertible. The sound of her heels was like a metronome in the quiet showroom. TICK TICK TICK TICK.

  Or like a bomb about to go off. She had long reddish hair curled into mermaid waves flowing down her back. She was petite, her slim legs on display in a tiny black leather miniskirt. She wore enormous platform high heels covered in a leopard-print pattern.

  She stalked closer and I realized her hair wasn’t red at all. It was an unusually peachy strawberry blonde.

  Almost the exact shade as mine.

  She drummed her fingers against her crossed arms. One of the guys, the shorter one, called out to her in whatever language they spoke. The tall guy laughed and hooted. I watched the woman’s eyes narrow. She TICK TICK TICKed over to him and slapped the short one right across the face. The tall guy cracked up.

  The phone in my back pocket rang. All three whirled to face me. I fled to my dad's office.

  I stopped outside the door and listened.

  “No, Stan, I need it paid TODAY. I delivered your vehicle six months ago. Yeah, well, I don’t care WHAT you have to do to get it. I’ll be here until six.” Silence. “Stan, please. This is my business on the line! This is my—Stan? Stan!”

  A few seconds later I heard a click.

  I waited another beat and knocked on the door.

  “Victor? Uh, come on in,” he called out. Victor. The one who broke into my house, scared the living daylights out of me, and ruined my mother’s roses. Black alligator skin belt. Long, thin knife.

  And he’s right outside the shop.

  I opened the door slowly and peeked in. Pretend you didn’t hear anything. Play dumb.

  “Hey, Dad, surprise!” His face went white.

  “Lana! What the hell are you doing here? Get in here and close that door!”

  “An engine light came on in the Golf and I thought Cesar could take a look. Dad, what’s wrong?”

  “I gave him the day off.” He exhaled and squeezed his eyes shut. He rubbed his forehead with his palms.

  I caught a whiff of cologne. Had he been here? Yeah, checking out your school photo.

  “Dad, there are some people in the showroom. Foreign.”

  He blinked at me. “Russians.”

  “Are they buying cars?”

  My dad stared out the window. He pressed his lips together. “No, Lana.” He turned to look at me.

  “So that’s Victor outside? Your new pal?”

  A strange look flashed across his face and a deep well of terror opened up in my stomach. He’s such a bad judge of character. What has he done? But the shadow left and he leaned back in his ancient desk chair. Wind rattled the window.

  “Yes. The others are Victor’s…business associates.” Out the window, I could see the warm spring afternoon getting blown out of the sky by dark streaks of clouds moving fast and high above the valley.

  “Is he here to apologize for breaking in to our house and trashing my room?”

  He stood and rooted around in his front pants pocket and pulled out his car keys. He walked over to me.

  “Apparently that was the work of his associates, who got a little carried away. All he asked them to do was deliver a message, and they went too far. It’s all taken care of, okay?”

  I almost laughed, but my blood went cold. In the dim light, his face looked thinner than usual. So I just nodded. I didn’t want to stress him out even more.

  “Now listen to me very carefully. Go out the side door. You’re taking the Ferrari home. It’s parked on the street in front. Leave me your keys.”

  “You’re letting me drive the Ferrari again?”

  He slowly pulled his office door open. He stuck his head into the hall and looked both ways.

  “Okay, go. Go straight home. Call me as soon as you get there.”

  “You’re making me really nervous, Dad. What’s going on?”

  “Nothing, nothing! I’m finishing a pretty big deal here today. We’re working everything out, so don’t worry. Really.”

  I handed him my keys. “I love you, Dad. See you at home.”

  Outside the emergency exit, wind whistled through the a
lley.

  The heavy door started to shut behind me.

  Victor caught the emergency exit door closing behind me with the toe of his shoe and held it open a crack.

  “Oh! I didn’t see you there.”

  “We didn’t get chance to meet before. I am Victor Savitch. I’m doing business with your father.” He held out his hand, so I had to shake it. It was like shaking a raw steak. A giant gold watch flashed on his wrist.

  “Nice to meet you. I have to get going now, Mr. Savitch. I have…homework.” He gave me a tight smile. His dark eyes regarded me like I was a mouse with its tail caught in his paw.

  My dad’s car was parked half a block down from the showroom. There was a huge SUV parked behind it that looked like it had five coats of black piano lacquer. Behind the SUV was a black Lamborghini Aventador.

  My mouth fell open. I had actually parked one once at a black-tie event in Napa. It was like driving a rocket ship. All the other Dolls that night had refused to touch it.

  Maybe because an Aventador cost something like four hundred thousand dollars and had scissor doors that opened straight up like a Delorean’s.

  The license plates of the SUV and the Lambo matched: SAVITCH 1 and SAVITCH 2.

  A slender female arm hung out the open window of the Lamborghini. Fingers drummed on the outside of the car door. The long talons sported leopard-print polish.

  It was the woman from the showroom. She was beautiful, but in a hard way. Up close, her makeup had cracked around her smile lines.

  But she didn’t look like she smiled very much. As I walked by, she rolled her window up.

  It was amazing to drive the Ferrari again. The sun came out and the interior of the car warmed up, but it couldn’t do anything about the cold pit in my stomach.

  I gritted my teeth and floored the gas. The car leaped forward with a thrilling growl.

  ***

  Spring Break. In Hawaii. With my boyfriend.

  Yes, it was happening.

  Caleb called to invite me on Valentine’s Day. He had the flu and sounded terrible. I instantly forgave him for not making Valentine’s plans with me.

  As soon we hung up, I pulled all my clothes out of my closet and drawers and piled it onto my bed. It was a small pile. After the rose incident, I’d purged a ton of old clothes. It was way easier than organizing and putting away every single thing they’d tossed on the floor. I filled three garbage bags for Goodwill.

  But none of it changed the fact that I owned no cute sundresses. Zero cute shorts. No resort wear of any kind, in fact.

  Maybe it would be a nudist resort. That would be a lot easier.

  ***

  At lunch the next day, Hawaii was all anyone wanted to talk about.

  “A few months ago you had no boyfriend and now you’re going on your honeymoon,” Piper gushed.

  I dropped my sandwich on my lap. A fat tomato slice escaped and left a wet ring on my skirt. “Hardly. His parents will be there, and so will his little brother. I’m not sure it’s going to be super romantic.”

  Bernadette chortled. “Trust me, you’ll have plenty of time to cavort. But be careful—you get yeast infections from bonefests in the tropics.”

  I choked on a bite of my sandwich. Piper shrieked, “Bernie!”

  Bernadette shrugged and tipped her diet Coke into her mouth. “Happened to me at surf camp last summer,” she said. “Worst yeast infection ever. Just bring some cream and you’ll be okay. You can also shove garlic cloves up there. I saw it on Dr. Oz. Which island are you going to again?”

  I couldn’t even look at her. “I didn’t ask.”

  “You don’t even know which hotel?” Piper looked amazed I hadn’t memorized the itinerary.

  “A Four Seasons I think.”

  Piper looked at Bernadette. “How many Four Seasons are there in Hawaii?”

  “Four. The one on the Big Island is my favorite.”

  “Okay, so one of them, I think,” I said.

  “Nice. You’ll be cavorting on seven-hundred-thread-count sheets,” Bernadette said. Piper hooted.

  I interrupted their snickering. “Hate to break it to you, but I don’t think it’s going to be that kind of trip, girls. I have no plans to cavort with Caleb in Hawaii.”

  Bernadette stared at me. “You can’t waste that kind of room! It’s like six hundred dollars a night!”

  I blinked and looked at Bernadette. “We’ve been on, like, three dates! I’ve spent seventeen minutes in his presence! Plus, it’s not like he said he loves me or anything. Aren’t you supposed to make sure they like you before you…cavort?”

  They exchanged a look.

  “It’s optional,” Bernadette said.

  “He’ll say it,” Piper said, nodding vigorously. “He is super into you! Wyatt said so.” Piper grinned and bit into her burrito. Bernadette looked from me to Piper.

  “This is Caleb Weaver we’re talking about, right?” Bernadette directed this at Piper. I caught Piper shoot Bernadette a look.

  “Bernie, do you know him?”

  Bernadette started organizing her backpack. “Oh, uh. No. Not really.”

  “We know him through tennis, right Bernie?” Piper’s voice sounded too high.

  Bernadette nodded her head slowly. “Oh yeah. That’s it. Name sounded familiar.”

  “Sounds like you both know something about Caleb that I don’t.” I looked from Piper to Bernadette. Bernadette blanched. Piper pretended she didn’t hear me and shrieked.

  “I forgot to tell you! Wyatt got hit in the face with a lacrosse stick and had to get sixteen stitches on his eyebrow. Look at this!” She pulled out her phone and showed us photos of a swollen and bloody Wyatt.

  “There go your prom photos,” I said.

  “Lana, is that all you can think about? My poor baby!”

  “All I can think about is I’m a little low on clothes for Hawaii and I need you to go shopping with me in the city on Saturday. I need resort wear.”

  “More like, cavort wear,” Bernadette interjected.

  “Done!” Piper cried. “I’ll come get you in the morning.”

  Bernadette bent down to tie her tennis shoes. “Don’t forget to pick up some garlic.”

  ***

  “Kind of short notice, isn’t it?” The chicken tacos I made sat untouched on the table.

  “He only asked me a few days ago.”

  “Have you even met his parents?”

  “Well…no. His dad is something called a ‘venture capitalist.’ His mom’s a psychologist. They’re super responsible.” He took a long swallow from his bottle of Dos Equis while I continued my pitch. “Anyway, I think it would be good for me to get out of town, just go somewhere? For once in my life?”

  He shot me a piercing look and cleared his throat.

  “Lana, do Mr. and Mrs. Weaver expect you to share a room with their son?”

  I almost choked. “No! I get my own room, duh!”

  “With a lock on the door?” He glared at me like he had already caught me alone with Caleb in a hotel room. I piled guacamole onto my plate. I tried to think about anything but Caleb in a Speedo, lounging on a gauzy bed in a tropical paradise. Think about puppies.

  Puppies in tiny Speedos.

  “Maya said she could fill in for me over break at the shop. She’s better than me, anyway.”

  He nodded and rubbed his chin. “You might need some spending money in Hawaii.” He reached into his pocket and pulled out the silver money clip I gave him for Christmas. It held an unfamiliar sight: a thick wedge of cash. He peeled off a few crisp bills and tossed them on the counter. I stared at them, dumbfounded. Three hundred dollars! It would take me months to earn that much in valet tips.

  “But what about Victor? I thought things were going badly?”

  “I told you I’d work it out. And I did, as you can see.” He took a sip of his beer. Then another.

  “So—I can go on the trip?” He shrugged and smiled. I gave him a huge hug. “Yes! Thanks, Dad. You�
��re awesome.”

  He stroked the back of my head. “Now promise me you’ll quit worrying. All you need to think about is getting through senior year. So go and have a wonderful time with Kevin.”

  “His name’s Caleb, Dad. But you can call him whatever you want!” I scooped up the cash and headed to my room before the spell broke and the loot vanished.

  I pulled a small metal cash box out of my new hiding place under the loose plank in the floor. Next to it, the diary was already acquiring a new layer of dust. I unlatched the lid and dropped the money on top of the small stack in the cash box. My life savings: a little over thirteen hundred dollars. Not enough for even a month in New York. But plenty for some new clothes. Cavort wear.

  ***

  I was alone in the art studio the next day packing up when the door opened. A little head popped in.

  “Hi Lana.” Eden smiled up at me through her long bangs. They needed a trim.

  “Eden! Hey, I haven’t talked to you in ages.” She crept in, hauling her backpack on her shoulder. She was so small for her age, it almost went down to her knees.

  “I know.” She bit her lip. She looked so much like her mother. Cressida got her father’s looks.

  “You can always come to me if you need anything. You know that, right?” I wanted to grab her and hug her and tell her I loved her. Instead, I grabbed my backpack and my sketchbook. “Your sister must be waiting for you. Should we head out?”

  “My dad called me,” she whispered.

  Martin Crawford had almost no contact with his daughters while I lived at their house. He had moved to Malibu with his secretary and washed his hands of them, leaving Ramona the mansion and not much else. At least that was Ramona’s story.

  “What did he say?”

  “He wants me to go live with him and Alicia for good. He said my mom makes it impossible for him to have a relationship with me.” She wiped her nose on the sleeve of her sweater. “He loves me, Lana. Not like my mom says.”

  “You should definitely go see him.” I put my hand on her arm and she launched herself at me, releasing great big sobs against my shoulder.