The Mayfair Moon

by J. A. Redmerski

  “That’s not a good idea.”

  “Oh come on,” I said. “No one will see us. I just want to look at them.”

  I ignored his warnings, even the hard reluctance in his body as we walked along the border of the trees. I hoped we weren’t trespassing, but usually signs are posted on the trees and there were none.

  “Adria,” he said, tightening his hand to stop me, “I mean it; we should just leave.”

  We were already close enough to the horses that I could count the black splotches on one of them.

  I let go of his hand.

  “Why?”

  Isaac backed a few steps into the cover of the trees, but he didn’t answer.

  In the corner of my eye, I saw the salt and pepper speckled horse rear up onto its hind legs. The other two followed, and neighed frantically. At first, I thought they were going to run right toward us. I pulled back and stood next to Isaac, holding onto his waist. The frightened horses ran a full circle before dashing hard through the field and away from us; the sound of hooves hitting the ground left in their wake.

  I looked to and from Isaac, back and forth, questionably.

  He watched out ahead where the horses had been standing. A look of guilt lay in his face. The cold air was finally beginning to affect him too; his cheeks and around his eyelids were slightly red.

  “We should go,” he said simply.

  “No,” I said with concern, “what’s wrong with you?”

  He looked at me. “I’m a predator, Adria; they can sense it.”

  I lowered my gaze, shamefully.

  “Don’t do that,” he said. “I just didn’t want to scare them off since you wanted to see them so badly.”

  Part of what he said was true, I believed. The rest of him was bothered by it, that such peaceful creatures were afraid of him. That’s how I would have felt if it were me. But Isaac hid that small truth from me and I let him believe that he did it successfully.

  The cool kiss of tiny raindrops touched my face. The trees shielded us mostly from the rain, but in the field, it came down like a delicate veil of mist.

  “It’s going to snow soon,” Isaac said, interlacing our fingers.

  Surprisingly, I wasn’t as disappointed to hear that as I thought I’d be.

  I guess Isaac just made everything better.

  “You run fast for a human,” he said.

  I shook my head. “No, no, no,” I scolded him, “you’re not getting out of this one. Are you going to drive me to school every day, or not?”

  My body shivered. Isaac reached behind me and pulled the hood of my coat over my head, adjusting it to fit snug.

  “Adria, listen to me,” he said.

  This time I did, but that sense of victory I had before was gone.

  “I don’t want to hurt you.” He placed both hands on my freezing cheeks, warming them instantly. “I hate to bring it up, but you saw me that day when Rachel was in my room.”

  “But you were out of it,” I argued. “I can take care of you when you’re like that. What’s wrong with that?”

  I knew he was right and I had known it all along, but I had been relentlessly trying to trick my human mind into believing that he could never hurt me.

  Isaac let out an uncomfortable breath and drew me into the tight fold of his warm arms. “If I begin to Turn and you’re there....”

  “I know you can control it, Isaac.” It didn’t seem to matter how many times I said it.

  He jerked his chest from mine, his hands gripping my arms. The desperate look in his eyes paralyzed me.

  “No, you don’t know that,” he growled. “Would you ever put a child in a cage with a bear? Would you?”

  He shook me.

  “Learn a lesson from the horses,” he snapped. “They knew what I am and what I’m capable of...and I’m still in human form.”

  I still didn’t want him to be right, so I pulled away from him fully and started walking back through the woods. I crossed my arms tight at my chest and buried my hands in the bends of my arms. My fingers were finally starting to feel the sting of the cold.

  I heard Isaac’s footfalls behind me every step of the way.

  “Adria, I love you too much....”

  It was the first time he ever said it to me. Hearing it, the way he said it with so much devotion and pain, it pierced my soul. I felt my heart stop and start again more rapidly. I turned around to see him.

  I went back into his arms where he held me tighter than ever before.

  IT FINALLY DID START to snow. I expected school to let out early and the roads to be deserted when the first flake fell, but life in Maine was much different than in Georgia. In the South when it snows just a little, because it doesn’t snow often, life comes to a halt. Bread flies off the shelves in the grocery stores, wreckers gear up rather than salt trucks. School is closed. An inch of snow is the major newsmaker. In the north, well, it seems the only thing that changes are the coffee and hot cocoa sales at Finch’s Grocery.

  Saturday morning I agreed to help Beverlee with the register again.

  Beverlee moved the mop around near my register, after minutes ago a customer had dropped a glass bottle of soy sauce. “Looks like Nathan won’t be working tonight,” she said. She dipped the mop in an industrial-sized yellow bucket, squeezing back the handle to wring the blackened water from it. “He’s called in more than any employee I’ve ever had.”

  “I’m sure he has a good reason,” I said, knowing that was entirely true. “Want me to help you with that?”

  She gave the floor one more swish of the mop before lifting it back into the bucket. “No thanks, I got it,” she said. She looked winded, but then again that mop was huge and had to be heavy.

  After wiping her hands on her apron, Beverlee placed them on her hips and stood there looking at me.

  “Do you have plans tonight?”

  Oh no, I thought. That uneasy look on her face gave her away. I knew I couldn’t tell her no. Besides, I didn’t have any plans anyway and Isaac was ‘incapacitated’ for the next few days.

  “No, I don’t,” I said. “You need some extra help?”

  “Would you mind?” she said, unease turning into relief. “With Nathan gone, I have no one to stock that new shipment and it’s double the size it was the last time. But, you don’t have to lift anything heavy.”

  “No, it’s cool,” I said, “I’ll lift what I can.”

  “Maybe Harry can help you out,” she offered.

  That was a great idea, actually. Suddenly, I wasn’t dreading the work as much.

  “Yeah, that’ll be perfect,” I said aloud. “I’ll call him in a few.”

  Beverlee gave the mop handle a push and the yellow bucket’s wheels began to squeak across the floor. The bell above the door chimed as a customer entered, bringing a gust of cold air in with him.

  “Good morning, Mr. Deter,” Beverlee waved from the bread aisle.

  The elderly man held up two fingers and waved them as he slipped down an aisle.

  “Watch him,” Beverlee whispered harshly behind me, “he’s a shoplifter. Stole a lighter last week and a pack of cheese the week before. We can ban him from the store, but he always comes back.”

  I stuck my head out to see around the aisle where the man stood reading the label of a soup can.

  “Cheese?” I whispered back. “Who steals cheese?”

  Beverlee laughed lightly. “People who can’t help but steal, I guess,” she said. “Just keep an eye on him.”

  The bell chimed again.

  “Good morning, Mrs. Perry,” I said, remembering her from my first day at the grocery store. She was one of Finch’s most loyal customers. “Come for some coffee?”

  I think I was getting the hang of this customer service thing.

  “Well, hello,” she said, hugging her big purse against her stomach. Her head looked like a wrinkly cabbage buried under a giant hat. “Good to see you again. No coffee today. Just peanut butter and hot cocoa.”

>   I smiled. “Well, I guess I don’t have to tell you where to find it.”

  “No, no,” she said, “but thanks anyway, sweetheart.”

  She slipped down an aisle too, her thick-soled granny shoes made a squishy sound as she walked.

  The snow was picking up and since the night before, Hallowell already had six inches on the ground. Being Saturday, the streets were filled with kids. A few flying snowballs had smashed into the window of the store and I hoped the glass was thick. Those snowballs could easily pass as baseballs.

  I felt awkward standing there doing nothing, so I went to the front door to sweep the dead leaves from the giant rubber mat. It was a less conspicuous way to watch Mr. Deter, too. He was still reading the soup cans. I got bored with him fast.

  I got bored with everything fast.

  It wasn’t Beverlee’s fault, or even that I was stuck working. When you want to be with someone else so badly, nothing else you do can take your mind off it much.

  Honestly, this sucked.

  All I wanted to do was see Isaac. How could he expect me to stay away from him an entire week before every full moon? Nathan never had to stay away from the world for that long, so why did Isaac? Nathan’s older, I thought. He’s probably got more control than Isaac has.

  I swept the floor absently, not even realizing my aim was doing no good.

  My cell phone rang in the leg pocket of my cargo pants.

  “Harry,” I said, “I was going to call you later. What’s up?” I placed the broom against the wall.

  “Mind if I come over later?” he said.

  “I’m working at the store tonight,” I said. “I was going to ask if you wanted to help out. Nathan called in.”

  “Yeah, I can do that,” he said. “For how long?”

  “The store closes at seven; we’ll probably stay after to stock for a couple of hours.”

  Harry agreed.

  “I have to go,” I said, seeing Mr. Deter come up the aisle to check out. “Got a customer to ring up. See you around seven?”

  “I’ll be there.”

  I walked around the counter and keyed-in the amount of his items on the register. It was an old-fashioned store, without the advantage of bar code scanners. Beverlee said Mrs. Finch refused to ‘upgrade the Devil’s technology’.

  “Find everything alright?”

  Mr. Deter nodded. He never seemed to speak.

  “Good then; that’ll be $14.84.”

  For a second, Mr. Deter looked confused as he began counting out his money. He handed me a twenty and I gave him his change.

  “Have a great day, Mr. Deter,” I said. “And stay warm.”

  The bell chimed over the door as he left, waving with two fingers above his head. More leaves blew inside that had been pressed against the building and untouched by the snow.

  Beverlee came up beside me.

  “I think you overcharged him,” she said.

  “Nope.” I pointed to my shirt. “I saw him slip a package of triple A batteries down his shirt pocket when I was on the phone with Harry.”

  Beverlee smiled hugely. “So you charged him for them; nice move.”

  Mrs. Perry approached. The squishing of her shoes on aisle two was getting louder.

  “Harry said he’d be here later.”

  “Oh good.” Beverlee was delighted. “I was going to change my mind about you working if he couldn’t help you.”

  I rang up Mrs. Perry’s peanut butter and hot cocoa. She and Beverlee talked for the longest time—more town gossip stuff, which I admit, I was starting to pay more attention to lately. I pretended not to be interested when Mrs. Perry said something about Lester Mann’s dogs found dead in the woods, ripped to pieces. They talked a lot about ‘that poor dead girl, Julia Morrow’, but Beverlee did her best to change the topic quickly with me standing nearby. By six o’clock, I heard enough gossip to start my own scandalous town newspaper. But I never expected to learn so much, either.

  After Mrs. Perry left, Joan Something-Or-Another, came in. She expressed concern for her neighbor’s son, David Shanks, who had been so sick with ‘pneumonia’ they had to hospitalize him.

  “He was hanging out with that new crowd,” Joan said to Beverlee, “up past The Cove.”

  Beverlee knew as well as I did that Joan was referring to the Vargas family, but she pretended not to.

  “Jonathan Forrester,” Joan went on, “he lives over on Academy; I heard he was coming down ill, too. It might be something health officials need to worry about.”

  This was getting bad.

  Shortly before seven, I called Isaac. He needed to know what was going on, but there was no answer and I had to explain everything in a voice mail.

  I was completely worried about everyday life and people around me now. I felt vulnerable without Isaac or even Zia to protect me. How could they leave me alone for days like this, to fend for myself?

  Maybe it really is more dangerous to be around them when they’re like this, I thought. If Isaac had to leave me alone, unprotected, especially when Alex and the Vargas family wanted me dead, then Isaac was right. His uncontrollable nature was more of a threat to me than the Vargas brothers were. This revelation not only struck me numb, but it changed everything.

  If Isaac and I were going to be together—and I would have it no other way—something needed to happen. Something needed to change. I just knew in my heart that me being human was going to put a serious divide between us. It was starting to already.

  I couldn’t let that happen.

  “Here are the keys to the store,” Beverlee said standing at the front doors. “Keep these doors locked at all times, except to let Harry in.”

  “There he is now.” I pointed to the parking lot as headlights moved in, illuminating the snowfall.

  “Carl will stop by in about an hour,” Beverlee continued, “just to check on things. He keeps my emergency key to the store, so he’ll be able to get in if you’re in the back and can’t hear him.”

  She seemed nervous about leaving me in the store without her.

  “I’ll be okay, Aunt Bev,” I said. “Go home and get some rest.” Beverlee always worked long hours on the weekend; up before the sun even.

  She stopped babbling and smiled with confidence.

  “Alright, I’ll be back at nine-thirty to pick you up.”

  Beverlee pulled open the glass door to let Harry inside. Snow fell off his shoulders and the back of his coat as he stomped his shoes clean onto the mat.

  “Thanks for the job,” he said.

  “You’re more than welcome, Harry,” Beverlee said, putting money into his hand. “Glad you’re with Adria, too.”

  Harry looked surprised. “Didn’t expect to get paid before I worked, but I’m not complaining; thanks!”

  Beverlee slipped her hood over her head and went to leave.

  “Lock the doors,” she demanded one last time.

  Harry and I were in the stockroom near the bay door. Boxes piled high against every wall. Old shopping carts with three legs had been stored near the giant cardboard recycling crate. Every kind of junk food and cola imaginable was stored back here, along with a lifetime supply of toilet paper and headache-inducing laundry detergent. I rummaged an unopened box of aspirin and took a few just to be on the safe-side. Strong smelling anything always gave me headaches.

  “What do we start with first?” said Harry, looking a little overwhelmed.

  “None of that stuff,” I said, pointing, “just these boxes in front of the bay door.” I whipped out my box cutter and sliced open the tape on one box to look inside.

  “You know,” said Harry, “you could just read the side of the box to see what’s in it.”

  “Oh shut up!” I laughed. I tried to hide the embarrassment in my face, but best friends notice everything.

  “It’ll be easier to take boxes to the aisles if they’re not opened,” he said all brainy-like.

  Harry lifted two boxes into his arms and started to carry
them out.

  I stopped him, smirking. It was my turn.

  “Harry,” I said, standing there with my hand on a dolly, “it’d be a lot easier to use the dolly.”

  His face turned bright red.

  In an hour and a half, we stocked everything from canned goods and deodorant to paper plates and garbage bags. I was exhausted and my back hurt.

  “I could never do this for a living,” I said, sitting on the floor of the cereal aisle with my back against the generic brands of pancake mix.

  Harry was still placing boxes of cereal neatly on the top shelf in front of me.

  “Shouldn’t have tried to carry the cans like that.”

  Groaning, I reached behind to massage my back with my fingertips. “I know, but you don’t know it’s a bad idea until long after you’ve done it.”

  “Well, you just do the light stuff then,” Harry said with his back to me. “I think I saw a box of mini marshmallows over there.” He failed to suppress the laugh entirely. It came out like he was snorting. I swung out my foot and nudged his shoe. “You’re so cruel.”

  He agreed, still laughing.

  “So, how are you and Isaac doing?” he said, putting another box into place. “I notice you haven’t been texting tonight.”

  It never occurred to me how obvious some of my new habits were to others.

  “We’re doing great.”

  “Just great?” he said, turning around. He bent over and took out three more boxes of cereal.

  “Well, yeah,” I said. “Great is pretty good, I thought.” That sounded backwards to me, but I went with it.

  “How great?” Harry finished shelving the cereal and started breaking down the box it all came in. He tossed it on top of the pile we had made over time.

  “If you’re implying something is not-so-great between us, then you’re wrong.”

  “I never said that.”

  “It sounded like it.”

  “Why are you getting defensive?”

  I guess he was right; I was getting defensive. I had to be careful. Harry would want to know why and I would have no idea what to tell him. But it was too late to pretend that nothing was wrong. I pushed myself up from the floor and cut open a case of instant oatmeal boxes.