Hunter's Moon

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Hunter's Moon Page 2

by Tess Grant


  “This is so great,” Jenna squealed bouncing on the balls of her feet as they came down the hall of the high school. “We’re going to be on the dance team together. It’s so perfect.”

  Yeah, perfect.

  It would be even better if Kitty had learned the routine before last night.

  She’d meant to, she really had. Somehow the time had gotten away from her. The two weeks between Jenna’s first hatching of the plan to try out and the actual tryouts had flown by. Last night had been a blur—the song pounding over and over again while Kitty struggled through the routine one chorus kick and a pony step at a time. Jenna had been patient, but by the end of the night, Kitty’s two left feet had started to irritate her.

  Jenna hummed a few bars from the tryout song and snapped her arms into the opening moves of their routine. Kitty flapped her own arms. She was behind Jenna by half a beat and her moves were more limp noodles than crisp. She hadn’t improved any with sleep.

  At least ten girls huddled near the gym entrance, half-green with nerves. They were almost all freshmen, vaguely recognizable from passing in the halls. The group ebbed and flowed with the bass thumping from behind the double doors. Somebody inside was already in the hot seat. A second batch of girls lounged on the industrial red-brown carpet under the baseball team’s trophy display case, bored out of their perky little ponytailed heads.

  “Does the old dance team have to try out too? Or are they like grandfathered in?”

  “They’re back on the team, but they have to be here anyway. Oh look, there they are,” Jenna cooed and floated in their direction.

  Kitty sucked in a deep breath and trailed after Jenna. Three seniors were leaving the team, so slots were limited. Jenna would make it; she was pretty good. Kitty’s own chances ranked somewhere between not likely and in her dreams. It didn’t help any that she didn’t care—indifference probably oozed out of her pores.

  Jenna chatted with the girls on the floor. Kitty caught her mid-sentence.

  “—and Kitty’s going to try out too.”

  One pair of blue eyes from the circle swung Kitty’s direction, cool and appraising. “Really, Kitty? You’re trying out?”

  “Sure,” said Kitty. She smiled as brightly as she could manage. She and Deb had always butted heads. Their last names, Ingles and Irish, put them on a collision course every year when it came to alphabetical seating. But even if she felt like smacking Deb, her dad always said keeping your cool was the best way to irritate. “Why not? It’ll be perfect for our senior year.” She pumped a fist in the air. “Don’t you think?”

  She tried to catch Jenna’s gaze to wink, but Jenna had her back turned, hunkered down between Deb and one of the other girls. Kitty didn’t run in the same circle as most of these girls, and she had never really wanted to. But Jenna had always eyed them from outside, acting as if the scraps of attention they threw her were something to beg for.

  She walked to the big plate glass window fronting the wet parking lot. Rain again. It seemed like it had been drizzling nearly nonstop ever since that night she had run across the dead deer. She had gone looking for the print the next day—the outsized print with the heavy claw marks. The carcass of the deer still lay there, already starting to puff up and smell, but the print was gone. She’d told herself it was washed away by the rain, but her father had taught her better than that. Her own tracks still led down the trail, faint but unmistakable. So had Maddie’s. Only the animal print was gone—like it had been wiped away by an unseen hand. Kitty placed her own palm flat against the glass, then watched the condensation blur the edges of its outline. She thought of the white-haired man sliding behind the tree. Maybe she’d seen the hand that had wiped the track away.

  An old maroon Escort pulled up into the no-parking zone at the front of the lot. Kitty could see Jenna reflected in the window glass behind her, one arm waving in the air as she talked. She wouldn’t notice if Kitty disappeared for a minute. Slipping out of the front door, Kitty ran toward the passenger side of the car. The door half opened as she got near, and she jumped into the seat, slamming it tight against the rain.

  Joe smiled at her. “How’s it going in there?”

  “Jenna’s pretty fired up. I haven’t seen her like this since she got her learner’s permit….”

  Joe finished the sentence for her. “And put the car in the ditch?”

  “That’s it.” Kitty wiped at her wet legs.

  “I still can’t believe we got her out without her parents ever finding out.” Joe grinned. “Dad never even knew we used the Cherokee to pull her.”

  Kitty blew out a sigh and leaned back against the seat. “You may need the Cherokee to pull me back in there.”

  Joe turned the key in the ignition and the Escort’s engine knocked a little as it died. “You don’t sound very excited.”

  “Not very.” Kitty agreed. “But she is.” Kitty wanted to be, wanted to do this. Joe, Jenna and she had been a team since grade school. She had known Joe even longer than that.

  Joe shifted in his seat to face her. “Worried you won’t make it?”

  “Maybe a little.” Kitty shrugged. She rubbed at the pale peach polish on her nails. The dance team wore blood red. She didn’t even own red; her mom said it washed out her skin. “I think I’m more worried I will make it.”

  “Don’t you think you should tell her? She thinks this is what you want.”

  The rain slid down the window and Kitty leaned her cheek against the cool glass. Maybe the weather would even out in time for summer; it was only a week until the end of school. “Do I have to go back in there?”

  “I think you have to,” he answered. “She’s looking for you.”

  Jenna poked her head out the door of the school. Sighing again, Kitty pulled at the door handle and it clicked open.

  “You can do it,” Joe said as she stepped back out into the drizzle.

  “C’mon Kitty.” Jenna waved her inside. “I turn around for half a second and you’re gone. You’re as moody as my grandmother on a full moon. Let’s hang out with the team.”

  Kitty caught a glimpse of Deb leaning over to whisper something to the girl next to her with a little smirk. Chances were that it had nothing to do with Kitty at all, but Kitty knew this much about Deb: She was a perfect package with her spiraling blonde hair, great figure, and cute nose…all wrapped up in a tongue made of razor wire.

  Did she really want to spend senior year looking over her shoulder? Did she want to wear crummy red nail polish that made her skin look as pale as death?

  The music from the gym banged to a stop, and the girls by the door clustered around the one who came out, flushed and smiling. Her tryout must have gone well enough; she looked happy. Kitty flashed her an encouraging smile.

  “Jenna, let me talk to you a minute.”

  Jenna bounced up onto the tips of her toes and back down. Her happy didn’t reach all the way to her mouth, because her voice came out as a whine. “What’s up?”

  “I’m not trying out.” Kitty could see the surprise register in Jenna’s eyes. “This isn’t what I want. I’m not the dance team type.”

  Jenna came close, putting her head next to Kitty’s. “Are you afraid?” she whispered. “You’ve never been afraid of anything.”

  Kitty knew that wasn’t true. Being alone in the woods with that print had scared her plenty. If she were honest, wearing a short skirt and hopping across the gym trying to look cute was nearly as terrifying. She shook her head. “I don’t think so. Well, maybe a little. But this isn’t my bag, Jen. I would rather wear a beat-up t-shirt and sit in the stands and yell for you than flounce around down in front at the games.”

  Jenna’s bottom lip poked out in a pout. “We’ve wanted this….”

  Kitty shook her head. “You’ve wanted it. I didn’t even think about it until you came over that night.” And then I blew it off for as long as I could.

  Jenna’s eyes started to water, and Kitty was suddenly afraid she was going to cr
y. “I can’t even do the routine. I’d just make you look bad.” She wrapped an arm around Jenna’s shoulders. “I don’t want to spoil this for you.”

  “You’ll stay for my tryout?”

  Kitty nodded.

  “And you’ll be at every game?”

  “Deal,” Kitty agreed.

  Jenna threw her arms around Kitty and hugged her. “This is going to be so great. There are so many nice girls on the team. You’re going to love hanging out with us.”

  Kitty must have looked skeptical because Jenna laughed. “Come on. It’s not like we’re in middle school or something. I won’t forget about you and Joe.”

  Kitty forced a smile. Maybe she was being silly. But she couldn’t stop the tendrils of unease in her gut.

  “Nothing’s going to change, Kitty. Nothing.” Jenna dropped her arms and danced off toward the gym.

  “Good luck,” Kitty called.

  The door opened behind her with a gush of wet spring air, and Joe stepped in. He flipped Jenna a thumbs up. Putting an arm around Kitty’s shoulders, he pulled her close. His shoulder felt good—warm and solid—and Kitty leaned into it.

  “She looks ready to go. Whatever you said, you did good.”

  Chapter Three

  “Get out of here, you old drunk!”

  Kitty stopped in her tracks, Joe nearly bumping into her from behind. The week since tryouts had dragged, but school was finally out. Looking up from her first ice cream cone of the summer, she could see a big woman leaning menacingly out the screen door of the antique store. Her stiff helmet of bleached yellow-white curls tipped even farther forward than she did. It threatened to slide right off her head and crush the elderly man in front of her. Neither her potentially lethal bouffant nor her screeching seemed to concern him though.

  She continued to berate him. “Come in my shop and call my stuff junk….”

  “Now, now,” he rumbled comfortingly. “I didn’t say it was junk. I said it was overpriced.”

  “Your price isn’t even in the ballpark, you old….”

  Kitty could tell she was searching for a word, the right one to put the old guy in his place. Her gaze flicked toward him. He was waiting too, and as he waited, he wormed a silver flask out of the side pocket of his dark blue Dickies work jeans.

  “Coot?” he suggested, pulling the top off the flask. “A lot of people like that one.”

  “Drunk,” the woman yelled back.

  He shrugged. “That works too.” Raising the flask, he saluted her with it and tipped it back.

  Kitty was close enough to see some of his baby-pink scalp through the white prickles of his crew cut.

  The antique lady clenched her fists and made a growling noise.

  He spoke again, voice coming from deep in his chest. “I’m guessing, then, you don’t want to sell me the spoons.” He shrugged. “Fake silver doesn’t do me any good anyway.”

  “Yeah, well it’s not like you’re using it to kill vampires. Get out,” she bawled, and the screen slapped shut behind her.

  “Ha,” he grunted, turning around. “Good thing your name’s not Buffy, you old battleaxe. You can’t kill vampires with silver.”

  He came down the sidewalk toward Kitty, walking slowly. It wasn’t that gingerly probing some old people had—feeling the ground ahead one step at a time. He wasn’t swaying either, so maybe it was his first hit of the day off his flask. He planted his feet down hard as if he needed each step to be solid, like he didn’t have time for a twisted ankle or a stubbed toe. He marched into the silence that surrounded the ice cream shop, and Kitty realized all of the people in the parking lot had been watching the exchange too. He came closer, and his stony blue eyes met Kitty’s.

  Her stomach dropped in a sudden nauseating swoop of déjà vu.

  She knew him.

  She had known of him, of course. Daniel Phinney had rumors swirling around him as bright as a discordant aura. Most of them involved a gun, a flask and a temper like quicksilver.

  But now she knew who he was. He was the figure in the rainy woods from nearly a month ago. Phinney had been the one hiding near the torn deer carcass. And he recognized her too. She could see it in his face.

  As the elderly man came closer, he held out his hand.

  He wants to shake hands with me?

  He stopped in front of her but reached off to the side to take Joe’s outstretched hand. His eyes stayed on Kitty.

  “Joe.” He pumped the boy’s hand. “Good to see you. Last day of school, huh?”

  “Hey,” Joe replied. “Yeah, finally free.”

  “Good.” The old man’s eyes bored into Kitty. “Shaping up to be a busy summer.”

  Kitty wondered if she had missed something. Obviously, he couldn’t be talking to her. She glanced sideways but Joe looked as confused as she felt.

  He must be drunk already.

  Phinney slapped Joe once on the upper arm and pulled a pair of those wrap-around cataract sunglasses from his pocket. He cast one last look in Kitty’s direction before his eyes disappeared. The old man moved toward the parking lot, winding through the people and picnic tables before climbing into a skinned-up blue Caprice. Pulling out ahead of a waiting car, he bumped out into the street.

  Joe came up closer to Kitty. “You’re dripping.”

  “Huh?”

  “Your ice cream. You’re dripping.” He moved around her and sat down at the closest picnic table.

  She looked down. Rivulets of red goo streaked down her forearm. She switched hands, shook her arm to get rid of the drips and swirled her tongue around the cone to catch the rest. Moving over to the picnic table, she dropped down across from Joe.

  “Do you know him?” She scrubbed at her arm with a napkin.

  “Who? Phinney?” Joe looked up from lapping at his usual chocolate. “Sure. Don’t you?”

  “I’ve heard things like that.” She waved her hand at the antique shop.

  “He’s okay. Dad knows him. That stuff at the store is what everybody sees. People say he’s a drunk; that he sits up there on the lane near your house with his gun on his lap. But—.”

  “School’s out!” came a yell. Jenna stood near the shop window, waving. She was dressed in jeans and a short spangled t-shirt that looked glued to her compact curvy figure.

  Joe laughed and shook his head. “She sure dresses a lot different since she made the dance team. She hardly looks like the girl who used to chase me around the playground.”

  “Hmm,” Kitty agreed. She looked down at her faded jeans and plain t-shirt.

  “You, you look about the same.” His own clothes mirrored Kitty’s. “You guys would never catch me now.”

  “Did you see old Phinney at it again?” Jenna plunked down on the seat next to Kitty. “That guy is like a hundred years old, and all he does is stagger around town and cause trouble.”

  Kitty glanced sideways at her. She didn’t feel like defending the old man but couldn’t help herself. “I didn’t see him stagger.”

  Joe licked at his cone, adding mildly, “I think he’s only eighty-something.”

  “You two kill me. I was just joking.” But the skin around her mouth tightened, and her brown eyes narrowed. “How’s the new flavor?”

  Kitty swept her tongue over the cone, exerting a little pressure to shove it down. “Good. Stupid name though. Full Moon Fever. Wild things happen during a full moon, red things….” she vamped, part shop girl and part horror movie announcer.

  Joe laughed. “I’ll bet the counter girl didn’t say it with quite that much enthusiasm. She’s bored already, and it’s only the first day of summer.”

  “Deb,” Jenna said, standing up and waving excitedly. “It’s Deb.”

  “Great,” Kitty said, but her friends had known her too long and could read the sarcasm in her voice.

  “Don’t be that way, Kitty. Deb is a lot of fun. She knows all about clothes and gives great diet advice. I’ve already lost a pound.” Jenna patted her stomach.

  �
�Hmm, that does sound like fun. By the way, did you ever find out who put my name out as flopping the tryouts? I’m the only girl in the history of the school who didn’t even try out and still got cut.” Kitty licked her ice cream.

  “The team doesn’t feel like it’s that big of a deal. You just need to let it go.” Jenna waved at another two girls arriving from the parking lot. “Guess I’ll run over and sit at their table.” She got up, then wrapped an arm around Kitty’s shoulders and leaned in close. “Call me, okay?” As she released her hold, she pointed to Kitty’s ice cream and added, “You know, speaking of diets, frozen yogurt has less calories.”

  Kitty felt a sharp pain in her midsection. Leave it to the new Jenna to have the last word.

  Joe pinched his lips together to stop a grin as Jenna stalked away. “Hmm, that went well. Good thing school’s out and you won’t see each other for a day or two. Look, I need to run. Gotta beat Eric’s bus home. You probably need to be home for Sam too.”

  “Yeah. Baby brothers always throw a wrench into things.”

  “Well, they’re good for beating on. Guess Jenna’s staying. Let’s roll, sister.”

  Kitty lifted a hand and waved it at Jenna. She knew Jenna saw her but she didn’t respond. She chatted, hands flying, with Deb. Kitty followed Joe to the car, feeling alone even in his company.

  Joe pulled the dusty red Escort out of the parking lot and moved slowly through Main’s rejuvenated business section. Big brick facades caught the sun’s rays, focusing them down on the hemmed-in cars. They crossed the bridge spanning the river and turned east on River Road. Paralleling the water, the road swooped in great curves to follow its meanderings. The wide river would drop between steep forested bluffs then Kitty would catch a glimpse of it, strong and swift, at road level.

  “Are you working at Gem’s this year?” Joe asked. “My mom wanted to know. She thought with your dad gone you might need a ride to work.”

  The car took a left on Hillclimb, heading up the bluffs that rose north of the river.

  “No. It wasn’t going to work with mom going full-time at the hospital. I’m in charge of Sam and the house this summer.” The job at the farm market hadn’t been the best, but Kitty had enjoyed it. She hadn’t been happy giving it up. “Mom said she would pay me a little each week to make up for the money.”

 

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