Luna Rising

by Selene Castrovilla

  Luna hemmed and hawed about going to the party, but in the end she went.

  She still wanted a relationship with her cousin, even though he’d been a douche. Maybe he’d grown up a little. Maybe he’d missed her. Maybe later was better than never.

  Luna didn’t know any of the other guests at Dom and Jill’s party, and Dom clearly had no intention of catching up with her as promised. This sucks.

  Dom had rushed over, given her a big a squeeze, and left her in the doorway – returning to his card game at the dining room table. His buddies were loud –and sauced. She smelled the group tequila breath from across the room.

  Jill was in the living room gabbing with a bunch of her clones – frosted blondes, perfect make-up and manis, and most probably matching pedis too. Young, slim builds, which would be Botoxed and tummy-tucked as needed in future years. They were all over-smiling to show off their whitened teeth and nibbling the olives from their martini glasses.

  Luna eyed the door. She’d passed a Dunkin’ Donuts on her way there, and her laptop was in the car. No way was she going to vegetate here when she could be writing. Do I need to tell Dom I’m leaving?

  Then she saw a guy sitting alone on a loveseat, apart from the yentas, watching TV. He waved.

  She went over to him. “Do I know you?”

  “Don’t think so.” He smiled. His face was rugged in a Tom Selleck way, and his hair was auburn. “Just trying to be friendly.”

  “Oh.” She stood there, not knowing what to say. She really was shy, and she didn’t have any glitter on to make her braver.

  He was watching the movie Top Gun. Luna had never seen it, but she recognized Tom Cruise and Kelly McGillis.

  “Name’s Ray, but everyone calls me Red.” He extended his hand. She shook it.

  “I’m Luna,” she said. “Dom’s cousin.”

  “Dom used to work for me, back when he was in high school.” Red said. “I’m a butcher. But don’t worry, I left my cleaver back at the shop.”

  She laughed.

  “You don’t wanna hang with the girls?” he asked, nodding toward the laughing platinum crowd.

  She shook her head no.

  “Wanna sit?” he asked, patting the seat next to him “It’s okay. I really don’t have my cleaver.”

  So she sat, even though she had no desire to see Top Gun. Not her type of movie, and she could live without Tom Cruise. It was a close fit on that small couch – almost impossible not to touch Red in some way. Loveseats were meant for… lovers, she supposed. She pressed against the side fabric.

  “Do I alarm you?” he asked.

  “No! I just… didn’t want to be forward.”

  “Then I will.” He rested his hand on her leg. It was shocking, but she liked it.

  “Hey, you didn’t slap me,” he said. “There’s hope for this relationship.”

  Relationship?

  He smiled again. “Kidding.”

  “How come you’re not drinking with the guys?” she asked.

  “I’m in recovery. I’ve got nine years.”

  Oh, joy. Another addict. “N.A.?”

  “Nope. A.A. The original, and still the best.”

  Well, A.A. was probably better than N.A. It was harder to beat crack than alcohol. And nine years was definitely better than the few months Alex had. And, Red was older than young Alex… he was clearly a few years older than Luna.

  Whoa! Now she was getting ahead of the moment.

  They were just talking, right?

  Even if his hand was pressing on her leg.

  And even if that hand felt so good.

  Onscreen, Tom Cruise was flying a plane. “You think we could watch something else?”

  “I love this movie!” Red said. “But, maybe my attention could be diverted elsewhere…”

  He leaned in and kissed her.

  And she kissed him back.

  They were kissing and kissing, and then there was a throat-clearing noise next to them. “Yoo-hoo! Are your jaws permanently attached, or what?” Dom asked.

  They unlocked lips and turned toward him. “Apparently not,” said Red. “What’s up, Dom? How can we help you?”

  “I couldn’t help notice that you’ve been making out with my cuz for awhile…” His words slurred.

  “Your keen awareness of details was the biggest reason I hired you, Dom.”

  “Really?”

  “No. You were good at hacking up meat.”

  Dom beamed. “Everyone said I served the best looking steaks in Boca – and I got my practice working for you.”

  “Thanks.”

  Dom blinked a few times, as his dulled thought process caught up with him. “Anyway, since Luna has no bros, I feel I should defend her honor.”

  No bros? Wow, that was cheesy, Luna thought. Once again Dom was late. Where was this chivalrous knight act when she’d needed it?

  He really was more like a fire-breathing dragon. If someone lit a match near his Jose Cuervo breath, there’d be a blaze for sure.

  “That’s very noble, Dom,” said Red. “I aim to treat your cousin real nice. I’m taking her out for Valentine’s Day.”

  “You are?” News to Luna.

  Is it good news? asked Jiminy, popping in from nowhere as usual.

  “Yes, But it would be nice to be asked.” Oops! She’d answered Jiminy out loud again. It was confusing, when he jumped into the middle of conversations.

  “I was gonna ask you… but I was too busy kissing you.” He gave her a big smile. “So, would you like to have dinner with me on Valentine’s Day?”

  “I would.”

  “It’s settled then,” Dom said, slapping Red on his back. “Carry on… but not too far on my loveseat!” Sauntering back to his pals, Dom stumbled on the ottoman.

  Luna and Red laughed – it was impossible not to. “You’re close?” Red asked.

  Luna shook her head. “Our family doesn’t do close.”

  “Join the club.”

  They talked for awhile. Luna told Red about herself and vice versa. Here are some of the things Luna learned about Red:

  STATS ON RED:

  Name: Ray O’Rourke

  Ethnic Background: Irish

  Marital Status: Single

  Body: Tall and solid

  Hair: Thick auburn, cut below the ears.

  Occupation: Butcher shop owner

  Favorite physical activities: He used to love motorcycle riding, until he crashed his bike years ago.

  Other likes: History, philosophy, psychology.

  Dislikes: Doubt, indecision, waiting.

  Religion: Raised Catholic, now a twelve-stepper, but a non-spiritual one. He didn’t work the steps. He went to the meetings for the coffee and donuts.

  Favorite writers: Hegel, Rousseau and Freud.

  Favorite dessert: Anything without rum.

  Favorite expression: “There are no jokes.”

  Their conversation was interrupted by the sound of a chair scraping. One of Dom’s friends raced from the kitchen, down the hall, into what was presumably the bathroom. “Huhhhhbluhhhhh!”

  After heaving for several seconds, the guy flushed, made a gargling sound and came back.

  “You okay, dude?” Dom asked.

  “Yup.” And then the guy continued with the card game.

  “Butch is a trooper,” said Red. “Hasn’t taken a sick day yet.”

  “That guy works for you?”

  Red nodded.

  “Butch the butcher?”

  “Butch the meat cutter,” Red amended. “I don’t even call myself a butcher when I’m in the shop. People find it grisly.” He made a mock-ferocious, teeth-baring face. “Dom brought in Butch to be my apprentice when he moved to Florida. He’s bulky – strength is a prerequisite – and he’s got good eye-to-hand coordination.” Red laughed. “Poor Butch. Puking’s one of the things I don’t miss about drinking.”

  “You threw up often?”

  “I did.”

  The smell of alcohol-pe
rmeated barf floated in the air. “Eww,” said Jill. She got up from the couch, resting her tropical-looking drink on the coffee table, and headed into the kitchen. She came back with a can of Febreeze and sprayed it liberally. “Ssssssssssssssss…”

  Now the air smelled like fresh, sweet vomit.

  “You wanna go outside?” Luna asked. She felt like she might heave from the combined scent.

  “Sure,” said Red. “But I gotta tell you something first.”

  “What?”

  “Remember I told you about that motorcycle accident I had?”

  “Yeah…”

  “Well… My right arm is paralyzed, and I walk with a limp.”

  Luna stared at him. How did I make out with this man and not realize he was only using one arm?

  “Is that going to be a problem?” he asked.

  “No… But I can’t help wondering… How do you cut meat?”

  He stood and offered her his left hand to help her up. “Carefully.”

  They walked outside. He took her hand with his left one, and they strolled. “I can take care of myself pretty well,” he told her.

  “I’m sure you can.”

  They were heading past a parked white Jeep. Red let go of Luna’s hand, then shoved her against the truck. “Whoa,” said Luna. Even Memphis wouldn’t do this without asking.

  Red gripped her hair and conked her head against the Jeep’s side window.

  “Hey! That hurt!” Luna said.

  Red didn’t say anything. He kissed her.

  And she let him.

  Here we go again, said Jiminy.

  But Luna wasn’t listening.

  TWENTY-EIGHT

  Two days later, Luna and Sunny were sitting in Sunny’s kitchen, drinking coffee and eating the Entenmann’s chocolate donuts Luna brought. Luna thought that sending Sunny on a sugar high might make her more mellow when she told her about Red. Judging by the way Sunny gagged on her donut when Luna got to the part about the Jeep, the plan was a bust.

  “Are you shitting me?” Sunny asked. She spit crumbs out with her words.

  “No,” said Luna.

  “The guy knocks your head against glass and you’re gonna go on a date with him?”

  “He sent me flowers. He apologized if I thought he was aggressive…”

  “Thought?” Sunny broke in. “There’s no room for debate. That mofo assaulted you.”

  Luna waved off Sunny’s words. “And he’s called me—a lot.”

  “So you’re saying he’s a stalker.”

  “No… I like it.”

  “You like the attention. But do you like him?”

  Good question, said Jiminy.

  “Oh shut up, both of you!”

  “Both of us?” Sunny asked. “Is that Jiminy dude here, in my kitchen?”

  For all those years Jiminy had spoken to Luna, she’d kept him to herself. But after she’d prayed on the dock, something had made Luna tell Sunny about him.

  Sunny was kind of jealous. “How come I don’t get a talking cricket?” she’d complained.

  “He’s not a cricket… He reminds me of Jiminy Cricket, that’s all. I guess he’s my conscience, or something.”

  “My conscience doesn’t talk to me,” Sunny said.

  “Maybe your conscience gave up on you,” said Luna.

  Sunny glared. Then she laughed. “Probably.”

  Now Luna said, “He’s not in your kitchen. You know he doesn’t appear anywhere. He just talks in my head.”

  Tell her I said ‘hi,’ said Jiminy.

  “He said ‘hi,’” Luna told Sunny.

  “Hey, pipsqueak,” Sunny said.

  “That’s not nice!” Luna said.

  Sunny gave her a ‘duh’ look.

  Hey, fatty-fat, Jiminy said.

  “I’m not repeating that!” said Luna.

  “What did he say?”

  “If you must know, he called you fat.”

  Sunny shrugged. “Fair enough. So Jiminy, why is it that I don’t get a little voice inside?”

  Tell her she can have one anytime she cares to embrace it.

  “I didn’t embrace you, did I?” asked Luna.

  Yes, you did, because you heard me. You’re a tough case, but your friend is Mission: Impassible.

  “Hey! What’s he saying?” Sunny asked.

  “He says you can have a voice when you’re ready to hear it.”

  “Hmmpf. Typical Godspeak.”

  “He’s not God.”

  “Whatever.”

  I haven’t got all day. Jiminy interjected. Can we get back to the question?

  “Anyway, answer the question,” said Sunny. It was eerie, the way she and Jiminy were on the same page.

  “I do like Red,” Luna said. And she did. “He’s intelligent. He knows about everything.”

  “Uh huh. Like head-banging,” said Sunny.

  What she said, said Jiminy.

  “Listen, I’m going out in public with him. What could happen?”

  “Yeah, like you’re not gonna let him lure you back to his place, you horny thing.”

  What she said, said Jiminy.

  “Drop it! I’m an adult, and I’m going,” said Luna.

  “I think you’re more of an adolescent – and a reckless, mindless one at that,” said Sunny.

  Jiminy said, She’s said it all.

  One thing Red could not do was drive, so Luna picked him up. He gave her a kiss and a heart-shaped box of chocolates. “You look gorgeous,” he told her.

  She beamed.

  They headed to the Outback. “The steaks are not bad there, for a chain,” Red said. “And I love the blooming onions.”

  The crowded restaurant was decked out in red and white balloons, and the chalkboard sign declared, “Be ours, Mates!”

  The wait was long, but nice. They sat on a bench and held hands until their table was ready.

  At the table, Red still held her hand across the table – except when he needed to eat. Luna didn’t need any wine. Red’s attention was inebriating.

  He ate steak like a caveman, but it wasn’t like he could use the silverware properly. He admitted that Butch and his other employees did most of the slicing, while he handled customer schmoozing and the business aspects of the shop. “There’s a lot of marketing strategy involved in selling meat,” he said.

  “Like what?”

  “Well, say the people are buying a lot of top rounds. I gotta figure out a way to move the sirloins, too. It’s all about turnaround. I gotta sell it fast, while it’s fresh.”

  “So what’s your secret?”

  “That’s where the schmoozing comes in.”

  Dessert was a special Chocolate Thunder from Down Under drizzled with red and white sprinkles. “So, wanna go back to my place?” Red asked, as they ate their last forkfuls.

  “Uh… excuse me. I have to use the ladies room,” Luna said. She slid out of the booth and headed to the bathroom, almost colliding with a busboy because she was so distracted.

  She wanted to go to Red’s… but she was a little scared.

  What if the head conking was a prelude to something else?

  Jiminy was silent. Apparently he’d already said his piece and was leaving it up to her. Free will, and all that jazz.

  But she wanted to talk to someone.

  Not Sunny—she would just say not to go.

  She decided to call Dom.

  “Cuz! What’s up? We’re a little busy getting busy here, if you know what I mean. It’s Valentine’s Day.”

  “I know it’s Valentine’s Day. I’m out with Red.”

  “Really? When did you meet Red?”

  “Oh my God – at your party. I was making out with him!”

  “You were? You little minx! I don’t remember much about the party, except my bud Butch puked.”

  “Right.”

  “So what’s the problem?”

  “The problem is, Red banged my head on a Jeep window outside your house…”

  “
Did the window break?”

  “No…”

  “Then there’s no problem.”

  “Look, I’m afraid that could be a sign of something…”

  “ The guy’s a cripple, for Christ sake. How could he hurt you?”

  “I guess…”

  “Besides, Red’s a pussycat. I never saw someone hack a side of veal as tenderly as he did, back before the accident.” There was a female voice in the background. “Coming, Pookie!” Dom called.

  Pookie?

  “Gotta run, cuz. The bathtub water’s getting cold. Have fun, you divorcee you!”

  I guess it’s safe at Red’s, Luna thought.

  Red was paying the bill when she returned. “I thought I was going to have to hoof it home,” he said with a wink.

  “No need to worry,” said Luna. She took his hand. “I’m ready to go to your place.”

  It didn’t take long to get naked.

  But before she took her clothes off and got in Red’s bed (a Tempur-Pedic he was quite proud of) she told him, “I don’t want to go all the way. Are you cool with that? Even with my clothes off, no means no, okay?”

  “Of course,” he said. “Anything you want.”

  He certainly was enthusiastic, and complimentary. “You’re hot,” he told her.

  They made out, and she let his hand roam her body. But then he rolled on top of her, like he was preparing to penetrate. “Hey, don’t go any further, Red.”

  He was brushing against her…

  “Stop it, okay?”

  He said nothing. It was like he didn’t hear her.

  She tried to move, but he was just too heavy. She was pinned down, even her arms. “Red, I don’t want to do this anymore. Let me up.”

  Nothing again. He was zoned off somewhere. His face was up against hers, but he wasn’t even looking at her. His eyes were dead. He was spreading her legs apart.

  “NO!”

  No response, not even a flicker of recognition. He was in a trance.

  She tried to close her legs but he forced them open with his knee. Damn, he was strong.

  He pressed himself inside her. He was a machine, pushing and pushing with no emotion. All she could think was, I’m being raped by a cripple.

  She attempted to move in some – any! – way, but she was sunken into the lush mattress. Trapped, cocooned like a fly. The spider was on top of her…

  Do something! She commanded herself.