As Silver Is to the Moon

by R A Watt

  Picking one up, I examined it. It looked like a new, perfect, silver-colored bullet. Though I didn’t know what color real bullets even were. At the base of each bullet was a small engraved symbol with three arrows coming from one base, almost like a trident. For all I knew, these were store-bought.

  “So Mr. Leclair made his own silver bullets, ‘cause I guess you can’t buy them, right?”

  “Precisely.” She nodded.

  “What’s this little trident symbol?”

  Mrs. Leclair put her glasses on and examined the bullet I handed to her. “It is not a trident; it is the silver symbol in alchemy. So we will always know this is made of silver.”

  I nodded and put the bullet back in the case. Not knowing the difference in how bullets should look, it didn’t mean much to me. Only that Mr. Leclair was a hunter, which gave me the creeps. Hopefully, she wasn’t big on guns, since she was bordering on having dementia and all. Though for someone so pretty and classy, she seemed experienced with the .22 the day before.

  At the far end of the room there was a large wall that looked newer than the rest of the basement, made of a different type of stone. There was a large, very solid looking wooden door in the center of the wall. The door was inlaid with black metal crisscrossing it.

  “What’s in there?” I pointed.

  Mrs. Leclair looked a little uneasy and for once was at a loss for words. Then finally she said, “It was our cellar. Luc collected wine, but I sold off the majority of his collection after he disappeared. It was worth a small fortune, most we brought over from France when we moved. Some wine dating back to the 1970’s.”

  “Cool,” I said, walking over to the stairs. “Well, I guess thanks for the walk and the stories, Mrs. Leclair. But I gotta go, soccer game at two this afternoon.”

  “Come back, please, if you have any questions. I’m worried neither of you believes me.”

  “No, not really. But thanks anyway. And thanks for yesterday, too.”

  Chapter 12

  Not wanting to sit around all afternoon thinking about Mrs. Leclair and my nightmare, I biked down to Redwood School to watch Jermaine’s soccer game. Kevin was also playing, along with a bunch of guys from our grade. Jermaine was practicing before the game and gave me a quick hello wave as I sat down on the green outdoor bleachers.

  “Hey!” I heard a girl’s voice behind me.

  I turned to see Rachel sitting with Sybil about six rows up and closer to the middle. I waved to her, my smile impossible to conceal. She patted the space beside her, motioning for me to come up.

  I was torn between wanting to sit with Rachel but not wanting to deal with Sybil.

  Dodging around seated families, I made my way up and sat down.

  Rachel smiled, jokingly elbowing me. “I didn’t see you at church this morning.”

  “Oh, yeah, right. I mean, I was going to join you, but my crazy neighbor had us over,” I said.

  “Mrs. Leclair?”

  “That’s her. Poor lady seems like she’s fallen off the deep end.”

  Rachel shrugged. “I think she seems nice. Always cheerful and pleasant to everyone that I’ve seen. And she lost her husband not that long ago. I kinda feel sorry for her, all alone here. My mom thinks she’ll probably move back to France, figures she has family there.”

  “Oh. Well, yeah, I mean she’s super friendly and all, but seems a little crazy.”

  “Why’s that?”

  I laughed. “First off, she genuinely believes there are werewolves in Santa Isadora. And, that there are werewolves—or lycanthropes as she calls them—all over the world.”

  Neither of the girls spoke.

  “Right?” I asked.

  Rachel looked at me. “Most likely. There are lots of stories everywhere, but we have more than our fair share. I mean, if there can be divine perfection and good in this world, there must also be evil, don’t you think?”

  At that moment, the whistle blew, and the visiting team took to the field.

  Baker High School.

  Bruno and his buddies’ team.

  I shook my head, disbelieving. “Bruno plays? Like, how small is this town? Our school has a game and they have to play his team?”

  “Teavan, there are only two high schools here. The other games are either away or from other towns in the county. It’s not that unusual,” Rachel said with a hint of annoyance.

  “Yeah, sorry, it’s just that in New York there are like a hundred different schools our teams used to play.”

  “Well, I guess this just isn’t New York, is it?” Sybil snorted, finally chiming in.

  “Sorry, I didn’t mean, like, it’s better or anything; just you know, given what happened on Friday and all . . . I just didn’t think it would be Bruno’s team,” I said.

  The game started and we stopped talking. It quickly became evident that Bruno was the best player on either team: faster and with better dribbling skills than anyone else. He also didn’t seem to be even liked by his own team; he never passed, just tried to be a hero on every play. But he did score the first two goals, so maybe his teammates didn’t mind.

  Redwood kicked the ball out near the bleachers, and Baker got a throw in. Bruno looked up and saw me, and his face turned red as a scowl set in. He pointed to me. “Hey, Gimp! Why don’t you get down here and play, help these losers out?”

  Everyone was quiet, even his players.

  Sybil held up her middle finger and mouthed something to him which he ignored.

  He continued. “Maybe you could play goalie, Gimp, seeing as how you probably can’t run or kick a ball!” he yelled, then laughed at his own joke as his other player threw the ball in and the game continued.

  Gimp. I’d been called worse, so I was used to it, but it hurt. Especially in front of such a large crowd. Especially in front of Rachel.

  She looked over and touched my knee. “Don’t pay attention to that Neanderthal.”

  I could feel that my face was red, and everyone around us was looking at the gimp. I hated that guy.

  The game continued, and things got back to normal, with Redwood trailing 3-1. Jermaine scored the only goal so far. He was actually really good.

  It was midway through the second half as I was telling the girls about a funny childhood story that I faintly heard Gimp again. As I turned my head, I instinctively ducked as the soccer ball whooshed over where my face had been just seconds before, hitting the bleachers and bouncing up and over.

  “Are you okay?” Rachel asked, her face red with concern. “That was close. Good reflexes!”

  Bruno snickered on the field, then winked at me. He’d been the kicker.

  The match went on, but my easy-going mood was gone.

  The only highlights was sitting next to Rachel and the cool afternoon breeze that caused her to sit close enough to me that our legs touched. That part I kinda liked.

  Kevin and Jermaine came over after the game as we climbed down to the field. Kevin whistled. “Man, that dude has a helluva kick! Are you okay?”

  “Yeah, I’m fine,” I said.

  “I mean, he targeted you from that far away and nearly got you squarely in the head! If he wasn’t such a jerk, he could be a star player, if nothing else. And you shoulda seen your face just as you turned. Teavan, it was priceless!”

  His exuberance at my expense was getting old, quickly. “Yeah, I get it, Kevin. I’m a loser; I’m the joke.”

  “No, man, that's not what I meant. I don’t mean no disrespect, it was just epic is all,” he added, though no one else laughed.

  Jermaine patted me on the back. “Good thing you ducked.”

  “Yeah, as I said, it’s fine.”

  I hoped that this public display of personal embarrassment meant that we were now even, in Bruno’s eyes. It was a crappy afternoon but would be worth it if it was.

  Chapter 13

  Sunday nights were always a bit depressing; the end of the weekend and the dreaded alarm to be set for Monday morning. A whole week of sch
ool ahead.

  Honey was up on my bed while I read. My phone buzzed on the table.

  It was a text from Rachel. My stomach fluttered.

  How are you doing? Still shook up from that near fatal soccer ball kick? I just wanted to check in, make sure you would be in class tomorrow! Sweet dreams

  My heart raced, and I read the text a few times. I can’t explain it, but the simple message gave me butterflies. Was I supposed to respond?

  Why did she have such an effect on me? None of the girls back home did; they all felt kinda like sisters to me. At least most of them did, anyway. Plus, I was never really part of the in-crowd, so mostly I was a bit of a loner. Being crappy at sports and walking with a limp didn’t exactly lend itself to popularity with the girls, or at least not girls as pretty as Rachel.

  I typed and deleted a message multiple times.

  All good, just finishing some homework. You have a good sleep too.

  After hitting send, I had second thoughts. Should it be more personal? Would she think I didn’t like getting her text? At the same time, I didn’t want to seem too eager, since guys don’t in books and movies.

  As usual, I was probably overthinking things.

  Though it took three tries to get back into reading, I eventually did, but with a smile on my face.

  Monday morning came too fast. One of the so-called cool kids, Joel, sat a few rows behind me as people slowly shuffled drearily into class.

  “Hey, Teavan. Nice work with Bruno on Friday. I heard you almost took one to the head yesterday; did your girlfriend save you again?”

  Turning around, I said, “Huh?”

  Joel was a big kid on the football team. Dark, short hair and pock-marked skin. “Sybil, I mean. Wasn’t she there beside you to stop the ball? Or were you too busy crooning over Rachel?” he said with a laugh, getting the guys around him to join in.

  Everyone was staring and laughing at me and I turned red. Biting at his taunts was the last thing I needed to do, so I turned around without comment.

  “Maybe you should get Sybil to sit beside you today, keep you safe?” he asked.

  At that moment, I heard someone cough-whisper to Joel, “Shhh.”

  Everyone turned to the back of the room where Sybil stood, red-faced, apparently listening. Joel quieted up, pretending to look at his phone.

  She walked over to his desk, scowling. “What’s that Joel? You want to sit with me today?”

  He looked up, feigning surprise. “Errr, no?”

  “Joel, do you study stupidity or does it just come naturally?”

  He leaned back. “Excuse me?”

  “Sorry Joel, did I say that too fast for you? Were you born on the highway or something?” she asked, looking down on him with a smirk.

  “Highway? I don’t know.”

  “Oh, I was just wondering, ‘cause you know, that's where most accidents happen. I only ask because along with everyone else, I’ve noticed your sister is almost ten years older than you and all,” she spat.

  Joel shook his head; he wasn’t quite getting it. But he was turning red at all the snickering directed at him.

  “Wait, is that supposed to be an insult?” he asked, confused.

  “Joel, Joel, Joel . . . ” she said, shaking her head then looking at everyone. “I was very much hoping to have a battle of wits, but I guess it’s wrong to attack someone who is completely unarmed.”

  Now even Joel’s friends were busting a gut, and his face was beet red. He started to stand up when the teacher came in. “Now, settle down everyone,” she said, trying to hush the crowd’s laughter.

  Sybil took her seat near the back, giving him a fake smile. She was witty, quick, and ruthless. I made a mental note to never cross her.

  Joel didn’t say much to me the rest of the day, his hostility now silently directed toward Sybil. I was glad I never actually said anything and that the focus came off me.

  The week was quiet, uneventful, and thankfully packed with texting between Rachel and me. Jermaine, Rachel, Kevin, Sybil, and I sat together for lunch every day now. Sybil rarely said much other than rolling her eyes at what I could guess were what she deemed stupid adolescent comments from Jermaine, Kevin, and me. I always got a kick out of Kevin’s constant need for attention from girls that he never actually received.

  I noticed a pretty blonde girl staring at Jermaine from a few tables over and nudged him. “That girl keeps checking you out,” I said.

  He looked up and saw her, but she quickly looked away.

  “Is that Alyssa?” I asked.

  Rachel nodded silently from across the table, but Jermaine didn’t say anything. “Why don’t you ask her to join us?” I asked.

  Jermaine shrugged. “I’ve reached out enough; I’m done. If she’s that influenced by her dad then I don’t want anything to do with her either way.”

  Kevin smiled, trying to change the mood. “How about Ava?”

  “Ava Murphy?” Rachel asked.

  “Yeah,” Kevin said, winking.

  “What, because she’s half black you think I should go for her? Maybe we’re a better match?” Jermaine snapped.

  “No, bro, not that at all.” Kevin grimaced. “I just thought, you know, she’s pretty hot and all, and she’s always watching our soccer games. Maybe she’s into you.”

  “Ava’s not my type and she’s outta my league, anyway,” Jermaine answered.

  This time Rachel spoke, smiling at Jermaine. “No, you mean you are out of her league.”

  Chapter 14

  Sybil was absent on Thursday, and Rachel was more boisterous than usual over lunch. As we walked back to class, she asked if I would walk her home after school since Sybil was out. Of course, I agreed immediately.

  “So, did you have a girlfriend back home?” she asked as I walked my bike and she strode beside me.

  I could feel the beginnings of my face turning red. Her first question ran so personal. “Me? Ah . . . no. Not really. How about you?” I asked, reversing the question from me. “Do you have many boyfriends?”

  “Many?”

  “Sorry, no, I don’t mean it like that. I meant, like, have you had many boyfriends?”

  “So you think I’m easy?”

  Now I knew I was really turning red. Ugh.

  “No! This is coming out wrong. I meant . . . ”

  Rachel smiled and then laughed deeply, poking me with her finger. “Just teasing you.”

  I shook my head and sighed. My words never seemed to come out quite right in her presence, especially when she was staring at me. Her gaze was always sincere, like she had no other thoughts on her mind and she was genuinely listening rather than just waiting for her turn to talk. It was a nice change from so many kids my age, but in some ways it was also harder to deal with. Insincerity was easier to brush off without thought or comment.

  “Oh, phew, yeah, I don’t know what I’m saying,” I mumbled.

  “I think I know. The answer is no, I don’t, and haven’t had any. My folks aren’t too keen on me dating, as you can imagine. Except for maybe a few boys at our church, but most of them are kinda blah, to be honest,” she answered.

  Without thinking, I blurted out, “But if a guy went to your church, they would approve?”

  Now it was her turn to blush as she turned away. “Maybe.”

  We walked a bit longer in silence, finally turning up toward her house and then stopping at the end of her front walk.

  “You never answered my question, ‘not really’ isn’t an answer. Did you leave a girlfriend back in New York who you miss?” she asked.

  “No, nothing serious; I dated a couple girls, but nothing to write home about,” I answered, maybe stretching the truth a bit. The truth was that the only communication I had from New York was my two buddies I grew up with, but even we weren’t that close.

  She seemed pleased with the answer—maybe even relieved?

  “Are you going to the party on Saturday?” she asked.

  I shook my head
. “No. Whose party?”

  “The Anderson twins, Chloe and Christy. They’re sophomores,” she said.

  “Oh, I see. Nah, I don’t think so, I wasn’t even invited.”

  She cocked her head with a smile. “It’s a small town, I’m sure you can go. You can join Sybil and me if you’d like.”

  I just nodded quickly, suppressing a smile.

  She turned as she walked to her front step. “I can’t stay out late, but it might be fun to swing by for a couple of hours. See you tomorrow in class?” And with that, she gave me a wink, a small wave, and skipped up to her door.

  * * *

  Friday flew by and Saturday night came quickly. Jermaine, Kevin, and I locked our bikes up at The Creamy, where we were to meet up with Rachel and Sybil. We decided to walk to the party from there. We thought showing up on bikes might not be that cool.

  Sybil rolled her eyes. “I’m pretty sure it won’t make much of a difference either way for you three.”

  Rachel smiled and pretended to elbow Sybil. “Oh, come on, you grouch, be nice.”

  “I might not be with you guys all night,” Kevin announced as we walked. “There are a couple of females there that might be worth my time, if you know what I mean.”

  Sybil coughed. “You’re walking someone’s dogs?”

  Everyone laughed except for Kevin. “Ah, no. But, Jermaine, if you don’t mind I might try to wheel up Ava tonight if she’s there.”

  “Mind? No, I could care less. But good luck.”

  Kevin held his chin high with a smile. “It’s not about luck, my friend. It’s about charm, and the uncanny attraction the ladies have for me.”

  The Andersons’ house was a large, rectangular white home on Walker Road. The lawn was perfect; all the shrubs and trees were nicely trimmed. They looked rich.

  Cars dotted both sides of the street, and the inside was jammed with people.

  Jermaine looked a little nervous. “You guys sure you want to hit up this kind of party?”

  Kevin winked. “Think of the ladies, Jermaine.”

  Rachel piped up, but ignored Kevin’s comment. “We need to at least say hi. Chloe and I played baseball together for years, and she asked me to come. She knew I wouldn’t come alone. It’s fine.”