The Moon Tells Secrets Read online

  I looked around the church, suddenly uneasy.

  Two others were here besides us. A plumpish woman dressed in white, like a nurse, sat in the front pew. A silk veil as light as gossamer covered her shoulders and her reddish brown cornrowed hair was piled into a loose bun. Her head was bowed as if she were praying. A friend of Aunt Geneva’s, waiting like me for things to start, I decided. A man about my age sat next to her. Even from where I sat, I could see he was attractive, his well-toned body nicely filling out his dark business suit. Occasionally, he’d glance at the woman with protective concern, like a preacher does, and I figured that’s what he must be.

  Davey shifted in his seat, letting me know he was ready to leave. Mack had a brother near Baltimore who’d promised me a job when we got there. Unlike my landlord, I’d given Mack some notice, even though I knew he’d give me a good reference no matter what. I told him not to tell anybody we were moving, and he’d studied my face for answers but promised he wouldn’t. I knew he was a man of his word.

  We’d take a cab to the bus station as soon as we left the apartment. Despite what I’d said, there would be no van; I was too broke for that. I needed to save every cent until we were settled and I could tell the bank where to send the money that was left from Anna’s estate. I glanced at my watch. There was a bus at three; we couldn’t stay much longer.

  Was it a mistake to have come? We should have gotten up this morning, gone straight to the bus station, and waited in a public space. We could have been halfway to Baltimore by now if I’d done that. But when I saw that name in the obits section of The Star-Ledger last night—GENEVA LOVING in big, bold print—I knew I had to come. I needed to hold on to some piece of me that was permanent, that I couldn’t toss out like so many parts of my life. Luckily, she’d kept her maiden name, as my mother had, something all the women in my family did. Our tie to ancient roots, my mother used to say before she died.

  The name grabbed my attention the moment I saw it. Weren’t all that many people named Geneva Loving in the world. Elan used to tease me about that. Raine Loving. Loving Raine. A good name for me, he said, because rain could be soft or hammer hard on a roof but always loving. Nature’s way of making things bloom, and that’s what I had done for him, he said.

  I didn’t remember much about Geneva Loving except she could look at your face and tell what you were thinking, and that had made an impression on me. I’d learned to hide my feelings like most folks in my family did, but I couldn’t hide from her. How old was I when I saw her that last time? All I could remember was her voice, sweet and tender; it made you feel like something good had just reached out and touched you, and the dim memory of that sound was what had gotten me up and brought us here this morning.

  “Stay here,” I whispered to Davey. “We’ll leave when I come back.” Davey was getting restless, as ready to go as I was. Or had something made him uncomfortable? He nodded, a quick motion of his head.

  When I got to the altar, the woman rose to greet me. Startled, I backed away, but she grabbed my arm, holding it tightly.

  “Thank you for coming. You must be kin. We’re about the only ones left, did you know that? I’m Luna,” she said, a grin spreading across her freckled face.

  “Aunt Geneva’s daughter?” I asked, even though her voice and eyes had told me.

  “And you must be the reason Mama carried on so about having this memorial, wake, or whatever the heck it is in this old church. Mama never spent a day of her life anywhere near one.” She sighed wearily. “But she always knew what she was doing. So we must be cousins. What’s your name?”

  “Raine.” I stiffened, still unsure of her and always wary of strangers.

  “‘Put it in the paper until somebody comes,’ Mama said. I just thought she was going senile. ‘Mama,’ I told her, ‘you know we don’t have any family around here,’ but she just stared straight ahead, like she always did, and said, ‘Post it, baby, just do what I say,’ and I did, and here you are.”

  Luna grabbed me, drawing me into her soft, lush body smelling vaguely of incense, and I let myself go, my whole body taking that breath Davey had told me to take earlier. Yet Anna’s warning was still there: Be wary. Be afraid.

  “When did Aunt Geneva pass?”

  “A week ago. I cremated her like she told me to do, then started putting notices in the paper. I’ve been coming here every day since.”

  People had always told me that half my mother’s family was crazy and the other mean. I’d grown up with the mean half, and I wondered if I’d found the crazy. That thought made me smile despite myself.

  “Don’t worry, baby, we’re going to just be fine,” Luna said, and in that instant I believed her. I wasn’t sure why; I just did. “Oh, this is Cade Richards,” she added offhandedly, gesturing toward the man standing beside her. “He was kind enough to haul me over here this morning. My old Mustang finally gave out last night. Cade, my cousin Raine.”

  His smile was shy and took a while to come, but he was as strikingly handsome as he looked when I’d first noticed him, not pretty like some men you see, but good-looking in an old-fashioned, solid kind of way, like Elan had been, like I hoped Davey would be. He struck me as the kind of man who could be leaned on and wouldn’t give way, no matter how much baggage you carried. But there was sadness in his eyes; his lips smiled but his eyes didn’t. They looked like they hadn’t in quite a while.

  “Luna’s cousin? Nice to meet you.” He gave Luna’s shoulder a friendly nudge. “You didn’t tell me you had family coming.” His voice was deep, with a melody to it. It could’ve belonged to a preacher, but I didn’t think so anymore; sexiness like that, preachers learned to hide.

  “You’re my good friend and neighbor, but you don’t know half my business … don’t want to,” Luna said with a saucy wink. There was an inviting ease between them that made me momentarily feel like a member of their circle, and it had been a long time since I was a member of anybody’s circle. I was as lonely as Davey, maybe more so. Luna was older than Cade, and I wondered if they were a couple, but their shared glances were more fraternal than romantic—big sister–kid brother rather than older woman–younger man.

  “So now I know why I came. It was for you, my dear cousin, and now it’s time for us to go.” Luna picked up the urn on the altar, planted a kiss gently on the top, and placed it carefully into her oversized tote bag. “Thank you, Mama. As always, you were right, and now I’m taking you home.” She gave me a quick grin and added, “We’re all going to my new house to send her spirit on its way with turkey sandwiches, tea, and in my case, a Bloody Mary. I’m old enough for that in the middle of the day.”

  The abruptness of her words and actions puzzled and amused me, and I noticed a glimmer of a smile in Cade’s eyes at last. But instantly Luna’s expression changed. She lifted her head, as if she heard something in the distance.

  “Cade, can you get the car and bring it around so we can get out of here? This tote bag is heavy. Side entrance is good, closer to where you parked. Past time for us to leave,” she added, too sweetly. Cade studied her curiously, then nodded and shrugged as if used to following her orders.

  “You’re coming with us, aren’t you, Raine?” she asked as Cade headed out the side exit.

  “No, I—”

  “Please,” Luna said, her eyes pleading so hard, I nodded that I would. We’d stay for a few minutes, then take a cab from there to the apartment, then catch the bus. I searched for Davey in the back of the church but didn’t see him. He’d probably gotten bored, ducked down looking for something he’d dropped, his cell phone more than likely; he was always dropping that.

  “But we can’t stay long.” Luna scarcely heard me. Her gaze was focused on someone who had just entered the church.

  It was dressed in black this time, from head to toe, a ninja or grim reaper ready for death. It stepped into the room as it had the restaurant, sure of itself, looking around, turning up its dog nose as it sniffed the air, swallowing it, gulping do
wn our scent, and when it saw me, its slanted yellow eyes wouldn’t let me go, and its dagger teeth peeked out from its thick pink gums. I stood staring, unable to move as I watched it stroll away.

  How long had it been here? What had it done?

  “Davey!” I screamed, finding my voice, tearing myself from where I stood, running to the back of the church. “Where are you! Where are you hiding?” I ran to the spot where I’d left him and dropped to my knees, my heart pounding. Had it beaten us this time? Had it gotten my son? I couldn’t let myself think, I wouldn’t.

  “Davey!”

  Yet somewhere in my mind, I knew I would sense if my son was gone. I would know it in my heart. He was here. I could feel him. Frightened but alive.

  “Davey is your son?” I’d forgotten that Luna was behind me.

  “He’s hiding somewhere,” I said, ignoring her question as I crawled between the pews, stripping out pillows, searching corners and crevices, my eyes filling with tears of fear and dread.

  And then I saw the glint of his round glasses on the floor and his clothes—jeans, T-shirt, socks, sneakers—slipped out of quickly, quietly, left in a pile the way he did when he got ready for school. And then Davey himself, nestled into a dark corner on the edge of a pew—a space just big enough for the tiny creature he’d become. I dropped to my knees, bending down in front of it. “Come out now. It’s okay, Davey. It’s okay. It’s gone.”

  He poked his head out first, small, brown, furry, then eased out the rest: dainty pointed ears and claws; whiskers fine as threads; sleek, fast body. Scampering to the back of the room, he disappeared into a cloakroom. He’d spotted Luna and wouldn’t shift in front of her. He never changed in front of me either; that secret he kept with his grandmother, how he made it happen, how long it took.

  But this had been a foolish decision, this puny creature he’d become. Easily caught and eaten by the cat, dog, wolf that sought him. A child’s choice—quick and small enough to burrow into a tight, hidden space. To disappear without calling attention. Not a wise one. How easily he could have been devoured before I’d know he was gone. Anna had warned me about this. Better to be fierce enough to frighten, she’d always told him. Run and hide until he is big enough, strong enough to fend for himself and for you.

  But Anna was gone, and he was just a boy who knew no better. Small creatures were simpler to become than large ones. More his nature. The fierce ones would come later, when he could handle the strength they brought. When he was ready to take blood, to take what was his. Fine for now, she’d told me. Just keep him safe until it’s time. And I hadn’t.

  Church mouse. Squirrel. Bunny. I hadn’t gotten a good look this time. All I knew was that I would need to take him home to rest. There would be no leaving town today or even tomorrow. We needed to find a safe place where he could come back into himself.

  “You’ll stay with me until it’s over,” Luna said, reading my thoughts as Geneva once had.

  I had no choice but to listen.

  2

  raine

  Is it safe here?

  There was enough of Anna in me to make me fearful, but this felt like a good place to stay for a day or two. Maybe it was the afternoon sun hitting the pale yellow walls in Luna’s living room, bathing them in golden highlights, and the sweet, spicy scent—cinnamon, brown sugar, curry—that floated in from the kitchen. Or the color of the winding stairs, the same shade of turquoise as her tote bag, that led to the second floor, or the battered red and white metal glider swing parked in the middle of her backyard, waiting to be swung in like some relic from the nineteenth century. Or simply Luna herself. But I was able to breathe.

  “You all freshen up, and I’ll put out some lunch,” Luna said as she disappeared into the kitchen, leaving Cade and me standing awkwardly together. I tried not to look at him, but couldn’t help myself; his face intrigued me. A square, lightly bearded chin gave it strength, and the lips could be sensual if he gave them half a chance, even though they were now locked in a grimace, tight and unyielding. Something drew me to him, and I hadn’t allowed myself to feel that kind of attraction in years. I felt clumsy and graceless standing beside him, as uncomfortable as he clearly was with me. We exchanged forced, stiff smiles, and I noticed again the sorrow in his eyes. I wondered if mine looked that way to him, if my loneliness was so obvious.

  Davey was lying on the living room couch. It took him a while to pull back into himself, to pull the inner Davey back from where the outer had been, away from that body, small though it was, that had taken over his own. I could only imagine the movement taking place within him—the shrinking and lengthening and widening, the fear of being seen. I always left him by himself during his transformation, as Anna used to call it. Let him find himself at his own pace. His was an external battle as well as an internal one, taking place where no one could see or hear it.

  Cade shifted his gaze to Davey, concern replacing his sadness. “So how you doing?”

  Davey glanced up, unwilling, unable to answer. He had buried his face deep into Luna’s couch, which was covered in a nubby yellow fabric that looked like sand. Had his mind taken him to the beach, I wondered? Did he remember the feel of the sun and the smell of cotton candy on the Jersey Shore when we dared to escape? Had it all come back just long enough for him to catch his breath and do what he had to do to return? Slowly, he picked up his head, eyes not quite open, staring at me, then Cade.

  “Is he okay?” Cade asked, his voice low, and I nodded he was, although I wasn’t sure. It had gotten close this time, closer than it ever had before. I sensed that Davey had known a different, deeper fear.

  “He’ll be better after he gets some rest.”

  Davey closed his eyes again, but his breathing had returned to normal.

  “What scared him so bad?”

  “He just gets scared sometimes,” I said defensively, avoiding Cade’s eyes. “Panic attacks.”

  “Panic attacks that severe? In a kid this young?”

  “Yeah.”

  He looked puzzled but didn’t pursue it, and I was relieved when Luna bustled into the room with a tray of sandwiches and tea. I was hungrier than I’d thought, but not so hungry as my son, who devoured sandwich after sandwich so quickly, I feared he would choke. Cade watched him, an amused smile on his lips.

  “He’s definitely better,” he said as Davey gulped his tea. Cade picked up the last sandwich on the platter, the only one Davey had left, and gobbled it down himself, then glanced at the door. I wondered if he was married; if there was a wife waiting impatiently for him to return, come home to dinner.

  “On your way, of course. Let me get you something to take with you,” Luna said, frowning with what looked like frustration as she went back into the kitchen. So there was no one waiting for him. That thought cheered me, and I wasn’t sure why.

  “Yeah, she’s mad at me again,” Cade said, embarrassed.

  “Luna?”

  “Who else?”

  “Does she get mad at you often?”

  “Ask her.” A quick smile that could pass as a smirk flitted across his lips.

  “Have you two been friends long?” I took a quick sip of tea, still trying to figure out their relationship.

  “A lifetime. What’s your son’s name?” He tried to change the subject.

  “Davey.”

  “After the king,” Davey chimed in from the couch between bites.

  “So you know who King David was?”

  Davey shrugged. “Guess so. Big-time king. Supposed to be strong, right?”

  “Sounds like you know something about history.”

  “Yeah, but I like other stuff better.”

  “Like what?”

  He was nearly at full strength. The light was back in his eyes, and that brought it back in mine. “Harry Potter, stuff like that.”

  “Wizards and magic! You sound like the kids in my class.”

  “So you’re a teacher?” I asked.

  “Sixth grade. You look abo
ut eleven, Davey. You heading to junior high or middle school?”

  “He’ll be in fifth,” I answered for him, defensively.

  “Supposed to be in sixth,” Davey volunteered bashfully. We’d moved around so much, he was a grade behind.

  “Grades don’t matter that much. You look like a smart guy to me, that’s all that counts.” Cade sensed Davey’s sensitivity, and I was grateful for that when I saw Davey’s grin.

  “Yeah, I guess I am sometimes,” Davey said, all bashfulness gone.

  Luna came back with a brown paper bag, which Cade took, giving her a neat peck on her cheek. With a sigh of exasperation, Luna said nothing.

  “So do you two live around here?” he asked, his attention on me.

  “We did.” Davey threw me an irritable glance.

  “Relocating.” I stuffed my mouth full of a sandwich so I wouldn’t have to explain.

  “Well, good luck. Good travels.” Cade turned to Davey. “Hey, you know another great writer you should read? Walter Dean Myers. He’s one of my favorites. Check out his stuff. You’ll like that, too.” He gave Davey a quick fist pound. “Take it easy, man, take it slow.”

  “You, too.” Davey’s grin made me smile, too. It was good to see this small gesture of male solidarity pass between them; it was something he’d shared with Mack that would be missing from his life now, something that he sorely needed.

  “So you like TV?” Luna asked Davey as soon as Cade had gone. “There’s one in my bedroom upstairs. Why don’t you go up and check out what’s on cable. Your mom and I need to talk.”

  “Can I order a movie?”

  “As long as it’s not nasty.”