The Moon Tells Secrets (6 page)

Trust no one. No one.

Anna's voice pushed into my mind as it always did, and I turned off the phone without answering. I'd call him later. I needed to let him know we were okay, tell him how he could reach us if he needed to—for Davey as much as for me. I couldn't just let him disappear from my life, as I had so many other people we met in our traveling. Just keep moving, never look back, Anna had said, but that didn't apply to Mack. I wouldn't let it.

You don't want that kind of life for Davey, do you?

No!

I'd answered Luna's question the moment she asked it.

Then I remembered the sound I'd heard last night, the scratching on wood somewhere I couldn't see, and my gaze drifted to Davey still asleep on the trundle bed beside me, his long eyelashes nearly touching his cheeks. My angel. He wouldn't want to hear that, tough as he thought he was, and my breath got tight again as I thought of how close we'd come in that church. How vulnerable he had been. Not tough at all, just scared and tiny.

I won't be small like that again, like I was in church today. Never. I'm through with it.

How could I keep him safe?

Until we figure something out
.

Davey must have felt my gaze because he opened his eyes, one at a time like he does when I try to get him up for school, then he squinted like he was scolding me.

“Your crazy phone woke me up,” he said, just this side of fresh.

“My crazy phone!”

“Who called this early?” Both eyes were open now, and there was alarm in his voice even though he tried to hide it.

“Mack. I'll call him later. And take that foolishness off my phone.”

He chuckled as he headed down the hall to the bathroom. I heard Luna downstairs in the kitchen, cooking, humming to herself, and by the time I'd made our beds, the smell of bacon, biscuits, and coffee drifted upstairs. I savored the normalcy.

By ten, the three of us had eaten, dressed, and were standing in front of Cade's front door. Much to Davey's delight, he and Pinto had become fast friends after Davey snuck him several of Luna's biscuits. As we stood on the porch, he tried to jump into Davey's arms and when Davey picked him up licked his face. “Bad dog,” he scolded, giggling as he grabbed and held him tight.

It took Cade a while to answer the door, and when he did, I wondered if Luna had told him we were coming. The kitchen was a mess. Plates and glasses were piled high in the sink, and a frying pan caked with grease sat on a burner of the stove. The room smelled like burned bacon and scorched toast. Yet there were hints that it had once been different and decorated with care: white oak cabinets, rose-colored walls, and sheer white curtains gave the room a dainty touch, but whoever she was had come and gone. Cade, in torn jeans and a wrinkled red T-shirt, looked half-sleep.

“Hey, come on in, want some coffee?” He beckoned us into the kitchen as he wiped his mouth with a napkin. His sneakers were unlaced. I squelched the impulse to suggest he tie them.

“Sure it's okay?” I asked instead.

“No, it's fine. Mornings start a little late for me some days.” He glanced at Luna, who rolled her eyes.

“Davey, there's a backyard for you and Pinto to play in if you want. He needs to run,” she said, plainly clearing the way for me and Cade to talk. “I want to see that thing you mentioned last night,” she said to Cade, and a look passed between them I wasn't meant to see. Cade gave a nod toward the back of the house, and Luna, tote bag in hand, headed down the hall. His face filled with a quick anguish that Davey saw, too. He began to nervously bounce Pinto's ball, and the rhythm of the rubber hitting the linoleum momentarily broke the tension. Distracted, Cade picked up a sponge and swiped the table in long, methodic swipes.

“Go on, Davey,” I said. Without looking at either of us, he headed outside, Pinto trotting eagerly behind him.

I sat down at the table and Cade tossed the sponge across the room into the sink, basketball-in-hoop style like a kid would, then sat down across from me.

“Luna said something about a proposition you have for me?” He got right to the point.

“Proposition?” The word, conjuring up images of seduction and steamy sex, was not the one I would have used. “I hope you won't be disappointed!” I added without thinking how it sounded, something I rarely do, but it made him smile, a shy, good-natured smile that lit up his face, and the room seemed lighter, too, a complement to the pink walls and pretty white curtains.

“Depends on what it is?” he said, playful smile still on his lips, and I realized how easy it would be to flirt with a man like him, something I hadn't done with any man since Elan's death.

“Well, I wanted to know if you'd tutor my son over the summer. If you have the time,” I quickly added, suppressing any coquettish urge I had. “Maybe shorter. A few weeks, maybe.” A few days. Just enough time to satisfy Luna.

“Summer or a few weeks? There's a big difference.”

“I'm not sure yet.” He hesitated, looking doubtful, and I added, “I can pay you.”

“It's not the money.”

“Listen, it's okay—”

“Sure,” he said before I could finish. “School's over in a week and I don't have much else to do. Yeah, I'll do it.”

“He's easy to teach, eager to learn and—”

“I know. I can tell he's a nice kid.”

“Thanks. For teaching and for saying that.”

“Don't thank me too soon. You need to be honest with me, tell me more about him, about what's going on.”

“Like what?” I was defensive, hearing the edge in my own voice. It was there because it had to be. It surprised Cade, too, I could tell that, but his eyes and voice softened.

“Like what you want me to teach him, for one thing. Like why you don't know if it will be the summer or a few weeks. Like what dreams you have for him.”

“My dreams for him? I don't know. Whatever he wants for himself. If you could just help him catch up with what you were doing this year so when we move he can be in the grade he's supposed to be in,” I said, ignoring the second question.

“So you're definitely relocating like you said last night?”

“Yeah, probably.” I studied the streaks the sponge had left on the table because I didn't want my eyes to meet his. “I'm not exactly sure when—a few weeks, maybe.”

“Or the end of the summer.” He shifted his gaze away then back to me. “Raine, you'll forgive me for asking you this, like I know I just met you, but are you running away from someone? Like Davey's father, maybe?” I heard in his voice what the kids in school must have heard when they were scared or in trouble, and what whomever he had shared this house with had probably seen when he held her close. I felt like one of those kids, wondered how it would be to unburden myself to someone with such tenderness in his eyes. I thought about Elan, then made myself stop.

“Davey's father is dead. I'm a widow. Davey's father died shortly before he was born,” I said quickly, hoping that would be enough. He went to the counter and poured a cup of coffee, nodded at me, asking if I'd like some, too, and I told him I would. “So how long have you known Luna?” I changed the subject; I didn't want to tell him anything else, let those thoughtful eyes pull anything out of me.

“About a year and a half. She and Dennie…” He began again. “She and my late wife, Denice, were good friends. So I guess you've known Luna all your life.” He took a swallow of coffee; he was changing the subject, too.

“No, I just met her.”

“You're not serious?” he said, sitting back down.

“Yeah, actually I am.” The coffee was hot and bitter. I like mine sweet, half filled with milk. Two teaspoons of sugar, three when I'm by myself. He must have noticed my distaste.

“Forgot to ask, want some milk? I take mine black. I'm out of sugar. Got some honey, though.” He took a carton of milk out of the refrigerator and placed it in front of me.

“This is fine.” I'd picked up the whiff of sour milk when he put the carton on the table.

“But then how did she know that you were coming? I couldn't believe it. It was like she was waiting for you,” he asked, getting back to Luna.

“Let's just say my family has a sense of things to come. I'll leave it at that.”

“And do you have a sense of things to come, too?” He was obviously curious; I almost hated to disappoint him.

“No. Mostly I try to believe in the here and now, what I can see, hear, feel, or touch.” I was lying and wondered if he knew it. I didn't understand what was chasing us or why Davey was the way he was. There was no such thing as the here and now.

“Mostly?” he said with a hint of amusement touched with something I couldn't identify, but he didn't ask me to explain, so I didn't.

Davey came in then, Pinto yelping at his heels. Seeing the two of them together like that, suddenly old friends, made me grin. Ever since he was old enough to see the “ideal” family on TV—mom, dad, two kids, family dog—he had yearned for a pet—dog, cat, guinea pig, anything—since the dad and two kids thing was obviously off the table. He'd begged me so often for a pet, I'd actually thought about giving in, and then I'd think about our reality and know it couldn't work. Traveling around too much, I used to tell him. It's hard to keep a dog in an apartment. But there was something else, darker, that I didn't ever say, and when he got old enough to understand, he stopped bringing it up altogether. Animals were a threat to him. Even small ones. A pet might see him as prey or become
his
victim.

“Did you all have a good time out there?” I asked, and Davey nodded.

“He likes to catch. He's kind of old, but he still likes to do it.” He rolled the ball to Pinto, who, as frail as he was, managed to catch it. Not a perfect playmate, but close enough for now.

Pinto licked Cade's hand, receiving a quick pat on the head in return. “Looks like you gave him a good workout. He needs some exercise.”

“He's pretty fast for someone his age.” Davey gave a low whistle, which brought the dog back to his side. “Can we come back tomorrow? I mean to play. There's more space here than at Luna's. I mean if we're still around?” Warily, his eyes sought my permission.

“Sure. Anytime you want to. But you might be coming back next week anyway. Your mom will talk to you about that.”

Davey's grin said he was glad we'd be staying here for at least a week, and he nodded at me with grateful eyes. Cade placed our coffee cups in the sink and left to join Luna in the room down the hall. Davey sat down in the seat he'd left.

“So we can stay?”

“For a while. A couple of weeks, maybe.”

“What about—?” He didn't need to finish.

“We'll figure something out.” It felt good to say that, telling him that we wouldn't run, at least not right away. But his quick, doubtful glance told me otherwise, and I nodded, acknowledging that we couldn't talk about it here, not in front of anybody. I told him then what Cade and I had talked about, explaining that he had gotten too far behind at school and needed to catch up. He scrunched his lips, letting me know whom he wanted to blame for that, even though I knew he really didn't blame me, except on bad days when he needed someone to be mad at.

“So what's he going to teach me?”

“Anything you want to learn. Stuff that will help you next time we need to—”

“But you just said we wouldn't have to leave again!” Anger sparked in his eyes. “You just said it!”

“I know what I said, and I didn't say that, not exactly.”

“Almost exactly. So where did Luna go?” He was defiant now but hid it. Like Pinto, Luna was quickly becoming an ally. I'd heard the two of them laughing together when I came downstairs for breakfast. I had no idea what they were talking about, but it had been good to hear his laughter. He was as at ease with Luna as he was with her dog, and I was reminded again how narrow our lives were, how thin and devoid of fun. Except for school, I was his only company.

When Anna was alive, she'd been there for him, too, in ways I never could. She'd understood him because of the bond—the shifting “gift”—they shared. He would tilt his head sometimes, in the weeks after she died, listening for a sound sung or whispered at a timbre I couldn't hear. It scared me at first, that some unspoken secret seemed to be calling him, a thing that shut me out. I'd wondered how deep those family ties went, how deeply he was bound to Anna, even after death.

Recently, the listening had grown less. Only every now and then would I catch him picking up his head, waiting for the voice of someone gone. But then he'd drop it when he saw me looking, unwilling to let me between them. Maybe Luna could become like Anna, with her own strange song to sing my lonely son, yet safer. Luna was bound to me by blood, so I'd be part of that song; I would hear it, too.

“So what were you and Luna laughing about in the kitchen this morning?” I asked, knowing he wouldn't tell me. Secrets were too big a part of our lives.

“Between me and Luna. So where did she go?”

“Down the hall,” I said, letting him have his space. “But knock if the door is closed.”

“Why would the door be closed?” With Pinto at his heels, he headed down the hall, and I heard him rapping hard, then entering when nobody answered.

“Don't come in here!” Luna yelled, too late.

He had run inside, the dog prancing ahead of him, and then I heard him stop and scream, the sound as sharp and piercing as it always was when he was afraid. I ran down the hall and into the room, snatching him toward me.

It was Pinto who knew he was shifting. His growl told me that, and his snarl, those little teeth sharp and white as he backed away from Davey almost into the wall. I pulled Davey close to me, as big as he was, trying to hide him from the dog, from anything that could hurt him.