Riley's Curse, A Moon's Glow Prequel (3 page)

“I know that you are upset, and you do not
wish to speak of what happened… however, Mr. Stewart and I really
need to know. We realize that a wolf killed her. We just want to
know what led up to it. We do not understand why it would come
after you both in the first place. There are plenty of animals in
the forest."

She was barely holding in the tears, and
perhaps I could have denied her had I not seen them. I could not
refuse a female of anything when they wept, a fact my sisters took
full advantage of.

I hesitated for only a moment before slowly
standing in front of the woman I had someday wished to be family. I
saw how much she was suffering, and I knew I had no choice. I
nodded slowly, and then followed her into the house with my
shoulders slumped with apprehension.

Once inside, she led me into our parlor.

The room was full of people. My parents were
sitting on the settee near the window. Mr. Stewart occupied the one
by the entryway. The Sheriff was standing by the woodstove, and our
Minister sat in the chair by the corner. My mother’s antique spoon
collection hung right above his head. The slightest movement could
knock them down onto his lap.

My mother gestured for me to take a seat in
the chair they had placed in the center of the room. Mrs. Stewart
joined her husband, grasping his hand for support.

I felt as though I was on trial as I sat down
where my mother instructed. All eyes were on me.

“We all know that you’ve been through a
terrible experience, Son. But we have some questions that need to
be answered, and if we could avoid bringing up these awful
memories, we would. Since you’re the only witness, we cannot,” my
father said, leaning forward in his seat.

Sheriff O’Neil stepped up to me, and placed
his hand on my shoulder, it felt cold through my work shirt. “Just
tell us in your own words what happened,” he said, and then stepped
back to his spot leaning against the wall.

I sat silently gathering my thoughts, but
only one popped in my head, Lucy's lifeless eyes. I flinch at the
memory and gazed down at the brightly colored Oriental rug, while
everyone stared at me in anticipation. It was so quiet that the
ticking of our grandfather clock echoed through the house. I could
hear the wind whistling outside, and my sister’s distant laughter.
I listened to hear if the neighbor’s dog was out, and sure enough,
I heard a soft bark come from the back fields. The parlor was
crowded, but still smelled of my mother's perfume, and candle
wax.

My father shifted in his seat and coughed,
letting me know without words that I had prolonged my explanation
long enough.

Still focused on the rug, I tired to wipe the
image of Lucy from my mind. I cleared my throat and began. “I
called on Lucy just after the dinner hour. We decided that since it
was such a lovely evening we would go for a walk in the town
square. We were deep in conversation, and didn’t realize that we
had wandered off the path. Before we knew it, we were in the meadow
behind the park. We had turned around, knowing that it was not
proper.” I glanced at her father apologetically, when he simply
nodded, I swallowed a lump that had formed in my throat and
continued.

“We must have been walking for some time,
because it started to get very dark. We were lucky there was a full
moon out or we wouldn’t have been able to see a thing. Lucy had
asked me if I was ever going to take those business courses I had
talked about. I answered the question, telling her that I was
planning to start at the college over in Macon City in the fall.” I
paused to swallow again, my throat was suddenly dry. “I asked what
her plans were, but she didn’t answer. I turned my head to look at
her, and saw her lying on the ground with a very large wolf leaning
over her. I didn’t even hear it approach us. I stared at them,
shocked at what I was seeing." I gulped in air, wishing I didn't
have to speak the next words. "She was already dead." There were a
few murmurs, but no one spoke, they were waiting for me to finish
my tale.

My heart began to race. "The wolf looked up
at me, and I swear it smiled. It started to stalk me slowly. I
backed up, afraid to make a sudden move. But I couldn’t take it,
the fear took over and I sped off running."

"It was right on my heels, and at one point
it took a bite out of the back of my leg. I ran to the road and I
was certain that I had escaped, but it knocked me down and was just
about to kill me when Mr. Morgan came, and scared it away. I’m sure
that if he hadn’t been there, I would be dead, just like Lucy.” My
voice was beginning to shake, I stood up fighting tears. I had
never broken down in front of anyone, and I did not intend to start
now. “And I wish I was,” I cried, my voice cracking, the pain in my
chest was stronger than ever. I rushed out the door, but on my way,
I noticed that every face in the room was frozen.

“I knew I’d find you here.” My mother said as
I thrust the axe into the wood sending splinters flying. After my
admission, I wanted to flee. But there was no where to go to escape
what had happened. So instead, I found myself back at the woodpile,
where I could take my mind off the memories for awhile. Although it
didn't work, the horrific images followed me.

“You always release your anger this way. Ever
since your father taught you to split, we’ve had plenty of wood for
our winters.” She stepped up behind me and placed her hand on my
shoulder. “Stop Son, and look at me.”

I dropped the axe, and turned around to stare
into her hazel eyes. Her honey brown hair was pulled up, but the
loose strands were blowing in the wind. She pushed them out of her
face as she gazed into my eyes with pure love and
understanding.

“It’s not your fault,” she whispered. That’s
all she said, and suddenly I was in her arms sobbing like an
infant. The guilt was like lead in my chest, it was smothering me.
With her words, a fraction of the shame lifted. Even though I knew
what she said wasn't true, it helped to hear someone say it out
loud. “It's okay Son, let it out,” she soothed, rubbing her hand
gently on the back of my head. We stayed that way for a few minutes
while I wept. When the tears finally dried up, I pulled away.

“Thank you, Mother. However, I would
appreciate it if you kept this to yourself.” I rubbed all the
evidence out of my eyes.

She laughed. “Of course, I won’t tell
anybody. It is just like you to hide your emotions. You know,
you’re not less of a man if you weep.”

I laughed without humor as I bent down to
pick up the axe. “Tell that to Father.”

“Well, you have a perfectly good reason to be
upset. You have never experienced death before, and for it to
happen right in front of you in such an awful way. I can’t imagine
what you must be going through." She paused, eyeing me with
concern. "You said the wolf bit you. How is your leg?”

The image of the wolf's hungry yellow eyes
flashed into my mind, and I flinched. “It’s fine. I washed it in
the river. It was clean and no longer bleeding.”

“Are you sure? Because I can look at it,” she
persisted.

“No. Mother, its fine,” I repeated, my voice
was harsher than I had intended.

“All right, but just remember, I’m here if
you need me for anything.” She touched my cheek gently before
walking around to the front of the house. I heard my sister’s
laughter, and felt a little cheered by the sound.

After she left, I sat down on the grass,
scraping my leg against a piece of wood. I was expecting to feel
pain because of the wound, but when I looked, there was only dried
blood and a scar. It was obvious this was where the wolf had bitten
me, but all that remained was a crescent sized mark the shape of
its mouth. It looked like it had happened weeks ago, not a day. I
touched my nose where I had smashed it when I hit the ground, and
again there was no pain. It felt normal, as if last night never
happened.

That night in bed I dreamed I was running
through the woods. I was free and one with nature. I had never run
so fast. It felt like I was soaring through the air.

I woke up the next morning to the sound of
my sisters playing outside my bedroom door. I sat up and looked
down at my feet. They were covered in dry mud, which was odd, since
they were clean when I went to bed. I rushed to my bureau where
there was fresh water in a basin, and wiped away the evidence of my
madness.
Had
I wandered around outside in my sleep?
That had never happened before. With everything
that was happening, the last thing I needed was another worry, so
instead, I shook off this strange new development. I reached into
my cupboard to retrieve my clothes so I could dress, and get ready
for a day that I was not looking forward to.

I noticed Mrs. Wallace in the back of the
church on Sunday morning. The small chapel was almost filled with
people, smelling of candle wax and sweat. I excused myself from my
family, and approached her. She was alone. Her husband died of
small pox five years ago, and her daughter had married and moved
shortly afterwards. She was an eccentric woman that some
townspeople feared, even whispering the word "witch" when she was
too far away to hear. But my parents enjoyed her company. She was
nice, and liked to make sweets, and that was all that mattered to
me. Today however, I had something more serious than baked goods on
my mind.

"Mrs. Wallace?" I said, taking the seat on
the pew next to her. She turned to face me, her chocolate colored
eyes were full of concern, as she regarded me. She placed her hand
on my leg in an offer of comfort. "Hello Nathaniel, how are you
doing?" Her voice was soft and soothing. I swallowed the lump in my
throat, not wanting a repeat of yesterday's break down.

"Can I ask you about the necklace you
made?"

Her dark brow lifted. "Which one?"

"The one with a blue-green stone with
diamonds." She nodded in understanding. "I purchased it as a gift
for Lucy. She was wearing it the night she was attacked. My father
said it was lucky and that it would bring the owner happiness."

Her lips pressed together, and she
squeezed my leg. "Oh Nathaniel. You are the owner of the necklace.
You paid for it, it will bring
you
happiness." If this was true, it made no sense. It
obviously hadn't brought me anything but misery.

My stomach twisted, remembering the last
night Lucy had worn the thing. "I… I don't understand. It didn't
work. Lucy died."

"Oh, dear, give it some time, it will. Lucy
wasn't the one that will make you happy."

"Who then?"

She paused, watching as the Bennett family
took their place in the pew in front of us. "I do not know.
But
you
will when
you find her. Just hold on to that necklace, and let it do its job.
She wasn't meant for you, but some day you will see the necklace in
the hands of the girl who is." She lifted her hand away and wiped a
stray hair that had fallen from her bonnet. "It will
happen."

The Minister stood in front of his pulpit,
and our conversation was over.

I walked away from her heading toward my
family, feeling more confused than before.

After the service, we all gathered for Lucy’s
funeral. I hated standing amongst my neighbors. Most of the
mourners stared at me instead of listening to the sermon. I didn’t
blame them of course. This was the worst thing that had ever
happened in our small town of Creekford. Even though we were part
of New York State, we couldn’t be further from the big cities. I
had never known anyone that was killed before. I only wished it
wasn’t happening now.

After Lucy’s parents threw flowers onto her
casket, they walked over to me. Her mother gave me a hug while her
father shook my hand. It was a gesture that was meant for comfort,
but I didn’t want that. I blamed myself, and part of me wanted the
same from her parents.

As much as I hated to cry, I felt tears
flowing down my cheeks. I turned my head so no one would notice,
and saw a woman in the distance.

She was standing next to a tombstone near the
edge of the graveyard, staring at me. I could physically feel her
penetrating gaze. She wore a wide brimmed hat, with tendrils of red
hair billowing out from under it. Her light blue dress blew in the
wind. I felt a chill that came from more then just the air.

I turned back to see the men covering Lucy;
the beautiful, sweet girl that was once so full of life, with dirt.
I couldn’t take it, I had to leave. I nodded at my mother, and
walked away, heading through the forest for home.

It was a long walk, but it helped. I had to
get the image of Lucy in a coffin and thrown into a hole, out of my
head. Lately my thoughts were filled with morbid pictures, Lucy's
dead eyes, her in a coffin, or the hungry eyes of the wolf. The
constant flash of the images were torture to my soul.

I took deep breaths, and lifted my head,
letting the sun soak into my skin. The smell of the grass, leaves,
and fresh air relaxed me a tiny bit and for a moment my mind
cleared.

The feeling was interrupted as the hairs on
my body stood on end. I felt a presence in the woods watching me. I
glanced in the trees, and thought I saw the yellow glow of two eyes
staring out from behind some bushes. I blinked, convinced that my
mind was playing tricks on me. When I looked again they were
gone.

That was enough to rattle me though, I took
off running. At first I ran out of panic, but soon began to enjoy
myself. It felt exhilarating. I was running faster than I ever had,
faster than I thought I could. The wind through my hair, the
complete control and speed made me feel better then I had in days.
It helped me forget for a time.