As Silver Is to the Moon

by R A Watt

  My dad gulped more wine to wash down his steak, probably happy for the excuse to drink more. “Wolves? No, not in California. Maybe coyotes, but they won’t bother Honey; she’s too big.”

  At the mention of her name, Honey perked up, hoping for some morsels from the table. I snuck her a piece of the over-cooked steak.

  “Well, that's what Jermaine said, and he’s grown up here.”

  “Well, Jermaine probably has an overactive imagination and might not know the difference between a fox, wolf, or coyote.”

  “Dad, how would you even know? You never lived in California. Grandpa came west after you moved out. What makes you the expert on wildlife over someone that lives here?” I asked, suddenly mad that he always thought he was the authority on everything.

  He smiled. “Okay, settle down. I’m just saying, from what I know, there haven’t been wolves in California for a long time. But, yes, I could be mistaken.”

  “Could a fox kill a cow? What about a coyote?” I asked.

  He thought about it. “Doubtful. Is that what he said?”

  I nodded. “Yep. And people.”

  “People? Wolves have attacked the locals?”

  “Well, no, but, he said some have gone missing over the years.”

  “Well, people go missing from every city in the country, that's not abnormal. That’s just life,” he said. “You have any idea how many people per day go missing from New York?”

  I shook my head. “I have no idea.”

  “Well, neither do I, but it’s a lot. I’ll bet at least ten people a day go missing, so a couple people over a few years doesn’t constitute a problem. I would even argue that is a positive statistic.”

  “Yeah, Dad, I know, I’m not stupid. I’m just saying . . . be careful.”

  “Well, maybe we should keep her inside at night until we are more familiar with things around here,” he said, then looked at Suzanne. “Any thoughts?”

  “Fine by me,” she said. “Just another reason this place sucks. I think I’d rather deal with random muggers than whatever is out there.” She motioned with her fork to the dark sky outside the kitchen window.

  As if on cue, Honey whined softly under the table.

  Chapter 5

  The days in Santa Isadora were warm but dry, unlike the humid East Coast. It was refreshing to open the window at night and not rely on air conditioning to sleep. I wasn’t quite used to the night sounds of crickets and owls yet; still oddly missing the honking of the insane cab drivers and sirens back home.

  However, the nature sounds were much better background noise for reading, and I was a voracious reader. In that way I was kinda like my dad. We both loved books and got lost in the good ones.

  After I checked some online threads, chat rooms, and crypto prices, I got ready for bed as I mentally calculated how much my small investment had changed. Who needed savings accounts when you understood digital scarcity?

  On one of her rare good days, Suzanne had lent me her Hunger Games trilogy, and I was midway through the first one. The eerie night sounds of the Iz added to the atmosphere of the book better than honking traffic as Katniss battled her way through the jungle.

  I was lost in the story until I noticed Honey’s head perk up, her ears swiveling around to catch whatever it was she heard. As usual, she was lying on my bed near my feet.

  I listened.

  It was quiet. Just the crickets and other night sounds I didn’t recognize but which seemed normal.

  Honey stood and jumped off the bed, walking over to the open window. She propped her paws up on the window sill to get a better look outside.

  “What is it, girl?” I asked.

  She looked back and tilted her head, whining softly.

  I walked over and looked out, but could only see the reflection of the bedroom in the glass because of the bedside lamp. Honey was interested in something outside, probably a rabbit. She had taken to chasing rabbits since we arrived; I only hoped she never caught one.

  I flicked the light off to get a better look. The yard was much easier to see now that the bedroom was dark, but I could see nothing unusual.

  Except my bike.

  I’d left it behind my dad’s car. Doubtful he’d be leaving the house before me tomorrow morning . . . except it was Saturday. So he might.

  Darn.

  With my luck, he’d back right over it, and I’d be walking the two miles to school for the foreseeable future.

  “Come on, girl.” I nudged Honey off the window frame. “Wanna go for a quick walk?”

  She bounced to my bedroom door at the mention of the word walk.

  As I slipped my bare feet into my dad’s shoes, I opened the front door and Honey bounded outside. The air was so crisp and clean, and the insect sounds so loud. It wasn’t something I’d gotten used to yet—it felt like I was camping. The stars here were infinitely brighter than the almost non-existent stars in New York. In the warmth of summer I meant to lie down here one night just to stargaze.

  Despite its almost painting-like perfectness, it was a little bit creepy, too. Honey stood expectantly at the bottom of the porch steps, waiting for me. I considered going back inside to turn the porch light on but instead decided to quickly get the bike into the detached garage and be done.

  The footfalls in the gravel from my shoes were loud in the silence. It would be difficult to sneak up on anyone here, which was probably a good thing. I glanced back toward the house as I leaned down to pick up my bike. I had a prickly sense someone was watching me from the dark.

  “Hello?” I said.

  Nothing.

  I pushed the bike over to the open door of the garage and went inside, leaning it up against the workbench.

  A faint noise outside the garage jolted me even more alert now, and Honey’s stance went rigid after she ran back to the open door.

  “What do you see, Honey?”

  She looked at me, but then returned her gaze back outside. Her ears flattened to her head and she growled.

  I put my hands on the workbench and felt around in the dark. I needed a stick or a weapon. Someone was out there, and Honey wouldn’t growl if it was family.

  My fingers instinctively curled around the handle of an old hammer. Good enough. Honey’s tail was down and she was just standing there, but I couldn’t see what she was looking at as I cautiously made my way over to the big door. From the faded light of the stars, I could make out the car and the house, and that was about it.

  “What is it?” I asked, my heart pounding now, and wondering how the country could be scarier than a dark alley in New York.

  Honey bared her teeth and barked aggressively. Something I’d never seen her do.

  I leaned over to grab her collar, almost more afraid for her safety than mine. “Stay,” I said, grasping her just in time as she was about to bolt.

  “What’s there?” I asked again, struggling to squint at the dark tree line behind the house.

  Then I saw what she was fixated on.

  Something sizeable was running near the trees, fast; something not human. There was an odd gait to its movement, almost like a bear, but it was too far away and too dark to make it out.

  My lower lip was quivering as I struggled with the decision to either sprint to the house or stay put in the garage.

  I didn’t want to get cornered.

  “Honey, run!”

  Chapter 6

  Holding her collar as best I could, I ran awkwardly back to the house. Honey kept trying to pull away to investigate whatever was lurking near the tree line, but I refused to let go.

  I locked the door inside and finally released her. She was jumping around, still trying to look outside, and barking a little as I ushered her quickly back to my room, not wanting to wake anyone.

  She immediately ran to my window and put her paws up to look in the yard. Her ears flattened again and a growl rumbled from deep inside.

  I cupped my eyes with my hands and leaned against the glass of the upper p
ane for a better view.

  My heart skipped a beat and I saw it.

  A big dog sat on the edge of the gravel driveway near the trees, staring at the house. It was far enough away that I couldn’t quite make it out. Maybe a husky? A German shepherd?

  A wolf?

  After unplugging my phone, I turned the flash off the camera, held it up to the window, and took a few pictures. It was useless; it was too dark.

  The dog or wolf started trotting off, and Honey jumped and let out a startling bark that scared the crap out of me.

  “Shhhh!!”

  But she kept barking, trying to jump through the window screen to get outside. The other dog loped lazily away without any apparent fear of my retriever.

  My bedroom door burst open. “Would you shut her up??” Suzanne snapped, silhouetted by the light in the hallway.

  “Suze! There’s a dog or a wolf in our yard!” I said.

  She walked over and looked outside. “Where?”

  Cupping my hands against the window, I looked out, but it was gone. “Well, it was there, I swear. That’s why she’s losing her mind,” I said, leaning down to comfort Honey as her barking finally stopped.

  “Well, maybe don’t let her out tonight.”

  “Too late, we just went out to put my bike away; that’s when she saw it.”

  “Did it chase you?”

  “No . . . but still. It was a little eerie.”

  Suzanne seemed unconcerned and turned on my bedside lamp, noting the book on the table. “How’s the book?”

  “Good, so far,” I said. “You okay?”

  She shrugged. “Meh. School sucks. This town sucks. And Dad thinks we should be excited about saving fifty cents on apples at the farmer’s market. I can tell you this: I’m outta here after graduation next year.”

  Ugh. I hadn’t even thought of her moving out. Difficult as she was, having her here was better than being alone. “Suze, you can’t leave me here. That’s only like a year away.”

  “I am not staying here. Hopefully, by then, Dad will change his mind, too. If not, I’m heading back to New York.”

  Living alone with Dad and his weirdness in the middle of nowhere seemed like about the worst thing that could happen—especially knowing Suzanne was back in New York. At least with her here we were both in the same boat and had a better chance of convincing him to move.

  She walked over to the bedroom door. “Well, I’m off to bed.”

  “You think Mom will ever come back? Maybe she could save us from this place.”

  Suzanne’s eyebrows furrowed. “Don’t count on it. I gave up on her; it’s been ten years. I’m still upset with Dad for whatever he did to make her leave, but her abandoning us is unforgivable. I’d almost like her to show up and try to reconcile just so I could have the satisfaction of slamming the door on her face.”

  And with that, she closed my door, ending the discussion. She always got heated when I brought up our mom. She left Dad when I was around five, and we never heard from her again. She was mostly just a memory for me, but Suzanne had been eight and her memories were stronger.

  Honey jumped back on the bed and walked in circles until she finally found the perfect place to curl up.

  Lying back down, I picked up the book and tried to find the spot where I’d been interrupted.

  Outside, something howled in the distance.

  Chapter 7

  On Saturday afternoon, Jermaine met me and I followed him to the Plaza Movie Theatre. It was the town’s only cinema and looked like it needed some work. It wasn’t quite like some of the high-tech theaters back home, but reminded me of the old ones that showed independent movies.

  Jermaine and I decided to watch the latest Star Wars movie, though I’d already seen it. We grabbed drinks and some popcorn and sat down, mid-theater center. The seats were squeaky and well worn, with no built-in drink holders.

  “You meet Mrs. Leclair yet?” he asked, popcorn in hand as we waited for the movie to start.

  I shook my head. “No. Who’s that?”

  “Your neighbor in the big white house down the road. She’s old; her husband died, but I don’t think she has any kids. At least not here. She and her husband moved here years ago from, like, Transylvania or something. She’s creepy; has an accent like Dracula.”

  I laughed. “Transylvania? That’s not even a real place.” Was it?

  “It isn’t?” he asked. “Well, I don’t know, someplace in Europe. I heard that a lot of the weird things started happening when they moved to the Iz. The kids joke that she’s a vampire.”

  “Are you serious? You don’t actually believe that,” I said with a laugh, wondering if any people in this out-of-the-way town had accents. In New York, it seemed like every other person was from somewhere else.

  Jermaine shook his head. “Well, yes and no. I mean—I get it. It sounds stupid. But living here, weird things happen, and it just seems normal after a while. You’ll see. Kids used to tease Old Man Leclair behind his back that he was a vampire and the cause of the dead livestock. Except he died a few years ago and nothing much changed, so maybe not. Maybe it’s been her all along. And you live beside her!” he grinned.

  As I was about to tell him about the dog in my yard the night before, something landed in my hair. Then something else. Popcorn.

  Shoot. A drop of sweat formed on my forehead immediately.

  “Don’t look, but I think Bruno might be behind us,” I whispered.

  Jermaine’s face went pale. “For real?”

  Fishing a piece of popcorn from my hair, I showed it to him. With zero tact, Jermaine spun around to look, and then smiled. “Close, Teavan, close.”

  My anxiety lifted when I turned and spotted Rachel a few rows back with a big grin and popcorn in hand. She waved.

  My fuzzy warmth drained when I saw Sybil next to her, rolling her eyes and shaking her head just as the lights went out.

  It was Jermaine who suggested they join us after the movie to get some ice cream. The Creamy was a block away and seemed like the local hangout, since there were no malls in town. The four of us got cones and sat down at one of the many picnic tables surrounding the old ice cream parlor.

  “So, why did you move here?” Rachel asked, licking the ice cream from the side of her cone.

  I explained the story of my grandfather, the house, and my dad.

  “I remember seeing your grandpa at our church. He wasn’t there every week, but attended pretty regularly. Will you guys be going?” she asked.

  I shook my head. “Nope, I don’t think so. We don’t really do the church thing.”

  She smiled. “I see. Well, maybe you’d like it if you tried. We can always use new people and volunteers. I’d be happy to take you.”

  Sybil broke in. “Rachel, don’t be trying to recruit everyone into your church; not everyone is interested in being ‘saved’. Just leave ’em be, not that I care either way.”

  “It’s not my church; it’s just church. And I was only letting him know he has options. Jermaine’s mom goes, it’s not weird.”

  The thought of going to church was not something I ever considered, beyond the occasional Christmas or Easter service. But going along with Rachel could be a good excuse to hang out.

  A hand grabbed my shoulder from behind and I froze.

  “You Hub’s boy?” a gruff voice asked from behind. I turned to see a tanned, weathered man wearing dirty overalls and a yellow-and-green John Deere cap.

  “Yes sir. Well, his grandson.”

  “I thought so.”

  He was quiet as we continued licking our cones. I wasn’t quite sure what to say to him when he took his cap off and put it on the table, revealing a head of short, white hair.

  “I counted your grandfather among my friends, though we didn’t always see eye to eye. But he was a good man,” he said, glancing at the others at the table.

  I nodded, uncertain.

  He stared across the road, squinting but looking at nothing in par
ticular.

  “This town is unique, and it has its secrets. Some of them are better left untold, or undiscovered. That is where we didn’t always agree, Hub and me. You keep that in mind as you settle in,” he said, putting his hat back on.

  He leaned over and put his hands on the picnic table, looking back and forth among the four us. “Sometimes you need to ask yourself; just because I can, does it mean I should? Keep that in mind, will ya? Some things are better left alone.”

  And with that he tipped his hat and made his way down the road, not looking back.

  As the distance widened between us, Jermaine looked at me and smiled, vanilla ice cream around his dark lips. He broke into a laugh.

  “And that, my new friend, is just another reason this town is weird,” he said, finishing his cone.

  “What was all that about?” I asked.

  “Who knows? I don’t know who he is, another old crackpot who’s probably got an end-of-world bunker out of town. I’ve seen him around here and there, always reading the paper or something, watching people from under his hat. Probably gossiping with the old men playing shuffleboard in the afternoons.”

  Rachel leaned in and changed the subject. “Where’s Kevin?”

  Jermaine shrugged, then smiled. “Supposedly on a date.”

  “With who?”

  He arched his eyebrow, then shook his head. “I dunno, some girl from Baker. I think he’s actually just home helping his dad in the yard, you know how he is.”

  Rachel smiled. “Oh, Kevin, him and his ladies. How about you? Whatever happened between you and Alyssa?”

  He shrugged, looking away. “I don’t know. Things seemed to be going alright, then she just kinda lost interest, stopped texting. It got all weird.”

  “Did you have an argument or something?” Rachel asked.

  Jermaine shook his head. “Not that I know of; it was like a light flipped, and she lost interest one day. It’s not like we were serious or anything, but I thought things were good.”

  From the silence, Sybil actually spoke up. “It’s because of her dad; he’s a racist jerk.”

  “Huh?” Jermaine asked.