Moon Shadow: The Totally True Love Adventure Series (Volume 1) (26 page)

I’m resigned to what has to happen next. As Captain Jack lies on his back, his face bloodied with a split lip and broken nose, his left eye swollen shut, I pull out Mike’s gun and force CJ’s mouth open with the barrel. I shove the metal into CJ’s mouth until he gags, and then I cock the hammer. The weapon clicks in a businesslike manner, as CJ displays his teeth like a frightened pony.

There is nothing more uplifting than righteous anger, and I’ve never felt so icy and unbreakable, not even at the pinnacle of my hatred of my father, and of myself, just after the accident with Mike, before battling Frank on Rattlesnake Mountain.

“If you go near Devon again, I’ll kill you,” I say, staring ruthlessly at CJ. “Now, get out of here.”

CJ nods; his expression is blank. I release him, and he stumbles up the hallway and exits the house by the front door.

Lori, who is still standing in the kitchen, announces, with good-natured humor, “Oh dear ladies cherish the freedom for your deliverance is at hand.” She smiles. “I’ve been waiting a long time for this. That man is evil.”

The hunched-up muscles of my arms and legs go limp with relief. I feel close to deliverance. It’s as if I’ve suddenly evolved into Nevada Smith, the hardened killer played by Steve McQueen in the classic film of the same name.

I wish to attend to Devon, but David is already sitting on the bed with her. She’s nodding in agreement, as a child accepts punishment. I had brought Devon to this evil-scented vaporous pit and allowed CJ to swoop down on her like a vulture. The fact that I’d left her here with CJ now seems unfathomable. I know I’ll never be entirely free of the guilt and sorrow.

Liz stands nearby, with a hand on her swollen jaw. Lori enters the bedroom and offers to loan Liz and Devon some of her clothes.

“We’ll go to my apartment,” I say. Rest up, get something to eat, put things back in order.”

David hands me the keys to his Mustang. “That was sick, dude, that was awesome!”

I
n pink pajamas and fluffy white slippers I walk quietly down the stairs on my way to the kitchen for a midnight snack.

I am feeling awfully tired, since my mother and I spent more than three hours answering questions and filling out forms in the El Cajon Valley police station. But there’s no way I can sleep. The police are looking for Daniel, and I can’t stop thinking about him.

I wish I hadn’t lost my diary in the fire. Now I have to use stupid notebook paper to record my thoughts, until tomorrow when my mother will buy me a new diary. I’m trying to recall all the stuff I’d written about Daniel, and then I can write it down again in the new book. Hopefully, I can remember everything. My mother and I are also going to drive to El Cajon Valley and put up the notices about Manny being lost. That is, if Daniel doesn’t show up first so we can do it together.

It was hard not to tell the police that I killed Frank with the rock, but my mother said it was best for me to do as Daniel had suggested. I didn’t say much at all, just answered a lot of questions, mostly with a “yes” or a “no.” We had an attorney there to represent us. The police told my mother that the firemen had found two bodies and a can of gasoline, empty, in the charred remains of The Gables. I guess that means Julie started the fire and killed herself. That’s sad.

Surprisingly, I see a light on in the living room. My mother sits on the sofa, still dressed in her tennis outfit, doing some kind of paperwork. Paying bills, most likely.

“Aren’t you going to bed?” I ask.

My mother looks up and smiles warmly. “I’m not sleepy.”

“Because of Frank?”

My mother puts her head down and starts shuffling through the bills again. “I don’t think so, dear.”

I shuffle over to the couch and sit next to my mother, resting my head on her shoulder. “Will you still talk to him? In your heart, I mean.”

“I’ve stopped talking to him.”

“Why? Didn’t you love him?”

“Well darling, I don’t know if I loved him. I suppose I did, but as it turns out, he wasn’t such a nice man.”

“Did Mike tell you about Frank and Julie?”

My mother seems on the verge of crying again. “No, I learned that from Joan Williams, Julie’s mother,” she says. I went to Joan’s house to look for Mike and Julie when I was out looking for you. I was trying to find out where Dan’s apartment is located.”

“Is that when you met up with Mike?”

“Mike phoned while I was there, at Joan’s, and I met him in Pacific Beach. We went to Dan’s apartment and of course you were at The Gables. Mike was awfully upset when I told him about Frank and Julie.”

As my mother begins to cry quietly, I say, “If I could go back into your womb again, I would. Then you wouldn’t feel lonely anymore, and we could start all over, except I’d miss Daniel a lot.”

My mother puts an arm around me. “When you were inside, you and I ... we were the same. And then, when you were born ... you became a new person.”

“Did that make you sad?”

“At first ... because I didn’t know I might feel even closer to you ... like now.”

I put my head in my mother’s lap. “I love it when we talk like this.”

My mother strokes my hair. “So do I, dear.”

“Mom, I just wish that ... well, that you didn’t have to feel lonely, for a man, I mean. That you didn’t have to think about losing Frank, about not being with him, the way I think about not being with Daniel. Why does it hurt so much?”

“Sometimes love is the worst thing, darling. You start acting foolish. You don’t look out for yourself.” My mother sighs deeply. “I’m doing everything I can to forget Frank, and you should do the same with Dan Rosen.”

I sit up. I’m about to tell my mother that I’m not in love with Daniel, but that would be a lie. “I love him, Mom, and he loves me. He’s the one. I feel it.” Then I add quickly, “And anyway, he’s probably ... my brother.” I don’t believe it, of course, but if it will make my mother feel better about my being in love with Daniel, romantically, that’s okay.

“Half-brother, dear,” my mother says distractedly, as she begins to thumb through the papers again. “You do know that Dan took the gun with him, don’t you? And that he’s hiding from the police?”

“But he helped me, Mom. Daniel is taking all of the blame because he loves me.”

My mother looks up at me again. “I know he agreed to shoulder that burden, Sarah. I am thankful for that. But I’m afraid Dan Rosen has trouble written all over his face.”

“Shouldn’t we try to help him?” I ask.

“There’s nothing we can do, dear.”

It upsets me that my mother thinks Daniel is a waste case. She doesn’t even know him like I do.

A
full moon hangs low over the waters of the ocean in a starry sky that seems almost touchable. I make my way, with Liz close behind, down the steep footpath leading to Shell Beach, near La Jolla Cove. When I’d told the others I was going to the beach to chill out, David and Devon had decided to remain at the apartment, with fresh coffee and doughnuts.

I’d left Mike’s gun, reloaded, in the glove box of David’s car, with the diary. I’m reluctant to read my mother’s diary, to immerse myself in her private thoughts and feelings, for I know I might never emerge from the intimacies that lie hidden in the pages of that red book.

The weed, in the trunk of David’s car, I will give to Liz, along with the six hundred dollars, before she returns home with Devon. She needs a stake, and she will eagerly take on the task of giving the pot to J-man.

The tiny beach is covered in a virgin layer of creamy white sand, from the base of the shaley cliff to the tidewaters. A tall section of sandstone jutting out from the cliff creates a second, even more secluded, south-side beach accessible only at low tide from the main beach. The south-side beach cannot be viewed from the main beach.

Liz, barefoot, is wearing the pink sundress that Lori had provided. I remove my moccasins. We sit in silence on the cool sand for several minutes. Sea foam, afloat on invisible water, glows in the moonlight and moves lifelike in front of us. No one else occupies the beach, as usual, due to the difficulty of access, particularly at night.

The rhythmic movements of the surf, gently lapping at the sand, soothe my frayed nerves, and I lie back with fingers laced across my belly. The waves bring forth the murmur of silence itself.

Liz draws close to me and stretches out, her soft feet resting against my ankles. In the pale light her polished nails look like large drops of blood. She gives a warm laugh, touching my ear with the tip of her nose. Her laugh seems to tremble and then fade in the breeze. I know I will miss trying to unravel the secrets of her charms.

Perhaps, I think, it would be enough to enjoy something pleasurable with her tonight, to set things right before I move on. It would be, essentially, a fitting culmination of past and present. True, I’d once imagined myself in love with Liz, but that was only an evasion of unhappiness. I certainly never loved Liz as I love Sarah. Liz was a sort of goddess I had tried to shape to fit my needs. Any semblance of spiritual love of Liz was obliterated when I met Sarah. I love Sarah with all my heart, even if we
are
brother and sister. Nothing will alter the way in which I love Sarah—nothing.

Liz kisses me sweetly on the back of my neck and I feel her quick, hot breath. I move away. I will not become a mouse so frightened it goes to the cat for love. No mere human can stand in a fire and not be consumed, and yet I know that I cannot connect myself with real desire for Liz, because of my love for Sarah.

Liz seems to be telling me with myopic eyes that she has wanted to see me, naked in the sand with her, for a long time. She lies back and beckons me. “One nice last hurrah,” she says, happily.

She closes her eyes and utters something into the wind, and I notice that her face, the beautiful face I’ve seen so many times, is no longer beautiful. For me, everything is wrong; but I see it only now, in this moment, as I realize I have no connection any longer with Liz’s soul. I’ve truly had enough of her, am full of her; with a renewed sense of strength, I somehow feel made right, without her.

“I’m sorry,” I say, and I roll away from Liz. She stares fiercely at me. I close her off from my mind as if I’ve snapped a switch.

I lie alone in the sand and dream of making love with Sarah, never my sister but my lover, and suddenly she appears in my mind’s eye. She’s inside the circle of my being, where our pasts eternally coalesce and our love emerges out of regions infinitely deep and mysterious. As I picture her lovely form I am moved to desire, wild with it.

In that moment I see in Sarah’s face everything about her, the balance of strength and weakness in the contours of her chin, the honest eyes that confess nothing, the mouth that is eager but isn’t. Her smile tells me everything I need to know about her: that she’s kind and as much without darkness as any human being I will ever encounter. I imagine seeing Sarah lying next to me, nineteen now, perhaps, and we’re on our honeymoon in Cancún, Mexico. I move over her and lie with her unselfishly, moving my hips in perfect harmony with hers, thrusting faster and deeper as I’m not just making love to Sarah, but mingling with her soul. I begin to discover that, as I had once been granted the means by which to see truth without entering Sarah, now I’ve been given a glimpse into that same truth by entering her, if only vicariously.

I open my eyes and notice that Liz has left the beach, gone back to the car most likely. When we had arrived at the beach it was after midnight. It’s now probably two a.m. or so. I had certainly never intended to speak with Liz about Sarah, and it seems there is no need to speak with Liz at all. She understands there is no renewal of the relationship to consider; this
is
our final night together.

I lie back in the sand, isolated, even from God perhaps. As sleep seizes me like a dark claw I give my last waking moments to Sarah, to my mother and to Mike and to sadness, and then I drift into a deep slumber, and a dream arises.