MOON

by Lindsay Becs

  “Moon, as long as you’re out here, I can come see you, like this, after he’s asleep.” I don’t say passed out drunk. “He hurts the ones in the house worse. I know it’s cold and dark out here, but you’re better off. You still trust me, right?”

  “Of course, I do, Endy. You’re my best friend.” She loops her bony arm around mine and squeezes it.

  “You’re mine, too,” I say, leaning my cheek against the top of her head. “I’ll always take care of you the best I can.”

  “I wish you could stay with me. I hate being alone out here.”

  It amazes me that after everything, she still trusts me and wants me around her.

  “Did it hurt?” she asks, confusing me for a second before she continues. “When he hit you?”

  Up until today, Zeus only ever wanted her to sing and dance or play around without clothes on. Nothing like what I know he does with the others. Sometimes I’m there with Moon because the fucker can see how connected we are. But today, when he told her to lie down on the bed and touch herself, I lost it. I stood to shield her body from him, like it made a difference at that point, and yelled at him. He burst into the room, which he’d never done, and hit me over and over, but I wouldn’t back down. Finally, he relented and told me to take her back. Small victories, I guess, but I know it’s only a matter of time before things will get worse.

  “Nah, I’m good.”

  “I don’t like to see you hurt. I would have listened like a good girl. You didn’t need to get hurt.”

  “Moon, I… It’s not like that. I just want to protect you as long as I can, OK?”

  She leans up then and surprises me by kissing me on the cheek. “Thank you, Endy. Will you tell me a story?”

  “Sure. Let me think… How about Sagittarius?” She nods, still holding me tight while looking up at the sky. “First, do you see the three stars in a row right there?” She nods again. “OK, now look below it. Do you see the bright star there on the right? That star is called Rigel. It’s one of the ten brightest stars in the whole sky. Then there are three more that make up the four corners around the three in the center. The whole constellation is called Orion, and the three together in the middle are his belt.”

  “Oh, I see it! I think I see it all!”

  “Shhh…” I hush her, not wanting to make too much noise. “Orion was the son of the god of the sea, Poseidon, and was a great Greek hunter. But it’s believed that Orion was killed by a scorpion while trying to save his love. There’s another constellation called Scorpius on the other side of the sky because the gods placed them on opposite sides. When Scorpius rises, Orion flees and runs from the scorpion.”

  “That doesn’t seem fair.”

  “Don’t worry, Moon. Sagittarius, the centaur, killed Scorpius. Sagittarius is facing Scorpius in the sky with his arrow pointed right at its heart.”

  “Good. But I’m still sad that Orion had to die.”

  “But he was saving his love. That’s pretty honorable I think.”

  “Endy?” I look down at her then, into her stormy moon eyes. “I know that you’re like Orion. I know that today you were trying to save me from Zeus. I’m glad you’re here.”

  “Yeah?”

  “Yeah.”

  I blink away my memories by taking one last drag before I snuff out my cigarette. I huff a small laugh to myself when I think how long ago it all seems now. It feels like another lifetime.

  I lie in bed with my mind reeling with memories. I need to see her again. Plain and simple. I don’t need to be pushy or force myself on her, but I need to see her again. And then maybe, some more after that. I have leave coming to me, and I think it’s time I use it. I never have in the past, but this time I have someone to see. I have a reason.

  I need to see my Moon.

  7

  Selene

  I see light in the distance

  But clouds cover in an instant

  I seek for warmth and so much more

  But I’m pulled away, left on the floor

  “I can’t stop thinking about him,” I tell Dr. Greer.

  It’s been three weeks since Tavin left town in his big truck. He left me his number, but I don’t think I’m ready to call and talk on the phone with him. I can’t even do that with my family yet.

  “Why do you think that is?”

  “I don’t know really. Maybe because he’s the first man I don’t feel threatened by?”

  “That’s a good reason. What else?”

  “I was able to talk to him easily.”

  “Why?”

  “I already told you, I didn’t feel threatened by him.”

  “Why do you think you aren’t threatened by him enough to talk with him easily?” I hate when she does this—keeps asking why to every answer I give.

  “I don’t know!” I finally yell, frustrated.

  “Selene, yes, you do.”

  I let out a puff of air at the same time my head falls back. I’m done and don’t want to be here anymore. I pick up my head and cross my arms in front of my chest. She knows this look well and what it means. I’m not talking anymore.

  “I know you’re frustrated. I know you’re done. But you have ten more minutes to sit here. Please let yourself relax and think about it. There has to be a reason why this man is different; why you feel like you can trust him, talk to him.”

  I close my eyes and will the next ten minutes to disappear, but I know better. So, for the first time, I do as she says and think about why. I try to let my mind go blank with the exception of Tavin and what little I know about him.

  “Cinnamon,” I say without thinking, surprising both of us. I open my eyes and shift in my seat, uncomfortable with where to go next.

  “Cinnamon?” she asks while writing the word cinnamon, I’m sure, in my file.

  “He smells like cinnamon,” I say before swallowing down my nerves to tell her more. “For whatever reason, whenever I smell cinnamon it makes me feel safe. I don’t know why, but it does. It always has.”

  “That’s very interesting, Selene. So, the smell is linked to good memories; you’re just unsure what they are exactly.” I nod my head slowly. “And him smelling like cinnamon fuels that.”

  “Yeah, I guess.”

  “There’s more,” she says as a statement and not a question, knowing me well.

  “I really don’t know why, but more than just him smelling of cinnamon, something about him feels… familiar. Comfortable.”

  She nods her head with a sympathetic look. “Before you go, let’s go through our last questions. Tell me something good.”

  I take a deep breath before answering. “I feel like maybe I can be normal for the first time in my life.”

  “Tell me something that hurts.”

  “I don’t know if I’ll see him again,” I answer honestly, feeling my cheeks burn red.

  “Tell me something real.”

  “Despite how horrible things must have been for me, I think I had something or someone that was good, kind, comforting, and caring. I just don’t remember.”

  Dr. Greer gives me a small smile then. “Now, time is up. This was good today. I want you to keep journaling, OK?”

  I nod and leave with a weird weight lifted now that I acknowledged what’s been rattling around in my brain for weeks.

  Once home, I reach for my journal and list the only words that seem to associate with a past my mind has blocked out.

  Endy.

  Cinnamon.

  Such weird words to be the ones that sprang to my brain first. I don’t know what either of them means to me really. They say that smells link to memories, and I suppose that’s true for the cinnamon smell that fuels comfort like nothing else in me.

  But Endy? I don’t even know what that means. Is it the name of something or someone? Is it the man that’s in my dreams lately? Is it the monster that took me?

  I have so many questions swirling around but no answers. No one has the answers except for me, and they’re locke
d away tight in a place I can’t seem to unlock. No matter how much I try. Why won’t my brain let me remember my own life? How horrible was it that I burned it from my memory? Do I want to remember? What or who was it that showed me kindness amidst the terror?

  With a heavy sigh, I run my fingers over the two words before closing my journal. After placing it on my table, I tie up my running shoes, ready to get some fresh air from the exhausting day.

  My feet thunder on the pavement as I tear down the street, willing so much for my mind to open, even just a little. I’m running fast, my heart pounding as I push my body to the limit of speed and excursion.

  Then, like a lightning bolt striking in front of me, I see it. I see him.

  I see him.

  I see Endy.

  The smell of cinnamon mixed with cigarettes fills my lungs inside the old sedan as he pulls into the dark corner of a parking lot.

  “This is it, isn’t it?” I ask, looking up into his eyes, feeling mine filling with unshed tears.

  He cups my face in his rough hands and places a single soft kiss on the tip of my nose, just like he did that very first day. “I will always love you. Know that I never wanted anything bad to happen to you. I’m so sorry for all that did, Moon. You have to know how much it killed me every time.”

  I reach up to soothe his clenched jaw with my small hands. “You are the best thing to happen to me. I love you more than the moon and stars, Endy. I always will. You have been my protector, my comfort, my hope and now my savior. I don’t care about what anyone will try to tell me. I won’t stop loving you.”

  We kiss. For the first time, we kiss. A real, true kiss.

  When we slow down and pull apart even slower, I feel his breath on my lips when he says, “I love you, too. Now go.”

  I turn slowly to open the door, but he grabs my hand once more, stopping me. “Wait.” I turn to look at him one last time, feeling my heartbreak falling down my face. “Your name is Selene. You were seven when you were kidnapped from Maddison, North Carolina.” He reaches into his pocket and hands me some cash. “Take this in case you need it. Go into that diner and tell them who you are. They’ll help you.”

  I nod as I take the money from his hand, our fingers brushing and my heart shattering. “How will I find you again?”

  “We’ll find each other when the time is right. My name is Tavin.” He smiles at me, and I don’t want to leave then. “Now go, Moon. I’ll find you. I promise.”

  I fall, my knees cracking onto the pavement below me. My hands hit next, biting into the concrete. My breaths are heaving in and out, and I think I might pass out. Tears prick my eyes, and it’s like the first time all over again. My heart breaking, shattering. I feel the loss of him all over again.

  “Endy,” I whisper into night.

  Tears fall freely, and before I can stand up again, I vomit in the middle of the sidewalk. I’m overwhelmed as the last memory of him hits me, reliving it as it played out like a movie in my mind. The saddest movie I’ve ever seen. My hand clutches my chest where it hurts so much. How could I forget him? How did I forget the best thing in my life?

  I sit back on my haunches while my sobs and cries continue to fill the darkness around me. I look up and see a shooting star glitter across the landscape of the night sky.

  Once my cries settle enough for me to stand, I slowly make my way back home. But much like weeks ago, I stop and look across the street at the motel. I don’t see his large truck, but I see that red burn from the end of a cigarette leaning over the rail. I can’t make out the person, but I know it’s him. I can feel it.

  Without question or hesitation, I walk across the street and straight toward him. The moment he sees me turn in his direction, he begins to move toward me, too, both of us walking until we meet in the middle of the parking lot. A shiver runs through me as familiarity hits from the last time I saw him. He flicks the butt of his cigarette as we step closer. Memories crash over me, seeping through the cracks where most are still locked tightly away.

  Except for him.

  They aren’t all there on the surface yet. But flashes of him, of our nights under the stars, are exploding around me. It’s like projectors everywhere showing me all the good through streams of colors. It’s beautiful. Why did my mind shield me from these moments and memories? I want them all back.

  Tears are cascading down my face again as the distance between us lessens. There’s a pull on my body to get closer to him. And I’m willingly walking toward him in total abandon, regardless of what I still don’t remember. My heart is beating so hard and fast I can hear it in the silence of the night.

  “Do you remember?” His husky voice asks softly, quietly when we’re a mere few steps from touching distance.

  I shakily nod my head. Can he hear my heart pounding? Can he see my shaking nerves?

  “Endy.” The whisper of his name leaves my lips, and nothing has ever felt so right. I didn’t ask him if I was right, because I know.

  This time he nods his head in response. Answering the question I didn’t ask but setting clarity to my mind.

  “I missed you so fucking much.” His voice cracks with emotion, and I gasp at how the words roll over me, soothing an ache I didn’t realize existed.

  Then I smell it. I close my eyes and inhale the scent of comfort, of memories, of Endy. “Cinnamon,” I moan when it fills my lungs like a hug.

  “What?” he asks confused.

  I blush a little before I answer him. “You smell like cinnamon. It was the second thing I remembered.”

  “The second? What was the first?”

  “Endy.”

  I see his Adam’s apple bob as he swallows. “So, you did remember me.”

  I shake my head. “No. It makes sense now, but I started having dreams after I met you. They felt real though. Endy was the first thing I remembered, but it wasn’t until tonight that I realized it was you.”

  “You don’t remember anything?” he asks surprised.

  I shake my head again. “I have no memories of my life during those nine years. Not until tonight anyway. Now I remember you.”

  “What do you remember?”

  “You promising me we’d find each other again,” I say with confidence I don’t actually possess. “You kissing me for the first time. Us saying ‘I love you’ and ‘Goodbye’ not knowing when we’d see each other again. You telling me my name… and yours.”

  He takes another cautious step toward me. “Can I… Can I touch you?” I slowing nod, taking another step closer to him.

  Once we’re an arm’s length away, he reaches out and takes my trembling hand in his, lacing our fingers together. Home. That’s all I can think. He’s my home. I don’t want to hold his hand though. I drop it and see the hurt on his face before I leap into his arms, wrapping mine around his neck. I bury my nose into the side of his neck. “I missed you.”

  It’s not until those three words skate over his skin that his arms wrap around me, pulling me closer.

  But then something snaps inside of me, and I push him away. “No!” I yell. I need space. I need air. I need away from him.

  I see another scene playing out, but this one has a monster. My head starts to violently shake side to side. “No. No. No. No. No…” I repeat over and over with my eyes squeezed closed and tears falling rapidly from them.

  “Moon, please. It’s me. I won’t hurt you. I promise.” He pleads with me on his knees in front where I’m sitting, rocking back and forth on the ground.

  “I saw him,” I whisper. “I saw Zeus.” A shudder rips through me, and I think I might vomit again.

  8

  Endy

  “I saw him. I saw Zeus,” she whispered in the same scared and shattered way she used to.

  The moment she says his name, rage fills my veins. He took too much from my past; I will not let him take my future, too. And hell fucking no will he ever touch hers either. He’s dead, and I’ll be damned if I let him continue to ruin us from the grave. My hand
s form fists at my sides where I’m kneeling in front of her, willing my anger to disappear.

  “He’s gone. He can’t hurt you anymore. He’s not coming back. Do you hear me? He’s gone, Moon. It’s just me. It’s just Endy.” I try to soothe her, but I’m afraid to touch her, not knowing how she’ll react since that’s what seemed to set her off in the first place.

  “Tell me a story,” she says, still rocking on the ground. Her eyes are wide and wild, looking at the sky.

  My heart constricts in my chest for the similarities from the past of nights like this.

  “Do you trust me?” I ask her before I move a muscle. Her wide, stormy eyes focus on me as she nods her head. “Good. Is it alright if I pick you up and carry you to my room?”

  “No. I need my home.”

  “Alright. Do you live far?” I ask but already know. I followed her the night I stayed weeks ago, not liking that she ran alone at night.

  “No. It’s just around the corner.”

  “I’m going to pick you up now. You tell me where to go.”

  She releases her legs from her grasp and allows me to pick her up in my arms to carry her, one arm under her knees and the other behind her back. She surprises me when she hugs around my neck and leans her head on my shoulder, but I don’t mind.

  I carry her up to her little home. She pulls a key from the band of her pants, and I force myself to look away when I spot an inch of flesh. Once the door is unlocked, I step over the doorway and into her space. It’s small and quaint, but perfect. It’s everything I envisioned for her. A place of her own. Freedom to be her.

  “You can put me down now. I’m alright,” her small voice whispers. Begrudgingly, I do as she says and let her feet slide down until they hit the floor. I keep my arm around her in case her legs give out, but they don’t.

  “Do you still want a story?”

  She huffs a short, sad laugh and I see her cheeks turn pink with embarrassment, even though I don’t know why she’d feel that way. “I don’t know why I asked that. You can go. I’m sorry I freaked out.”