by Abe Moss
“Sorry we put a damper on what could’ve been a much more interesting night,” Maria said.
“No, not at all.” Adrian folded his arms. “I mean, yeah… the whole ‘boyfriend’ thing is a little disappointing.”
Maria laughed. They fidgeted beside one another as she silently wished her boyfriend hadn’t been brought up again. What was starting to feel comfortable and casual abruptly became something else entirely. She now felt the chill of the night up her torso.
She looked around.
“Where’s my brother?”
She spoke aloud, though she mostly asked herself. Adrian’s friends—one, two, three—continued to whisper and guffaw around the telescope. Michael wasn’t with them. Nor was he with her and Adrian. She looked to the Jeep, dark and abandoned behind them, and saw no one stirring there.
“Michael?” she said. She stepped toward the Jeep. She called louder. “Michael!”
The other boys quieted as her calling drew their attention.
“Did you see him go somewhere?” Maria asked Adrian, who stiffened at the question, uselessly watching her search.
“No, I thought he was next to us…”
Adrian turned in a circle then, too. Maria stepped around the other side of the car, but found nothing. She peered down the slope of the hill where they were parked and saw only shadows of desert sage at the bottom, and endless more shadows stretching into the dark valley.
“Twice now,” she muttered. “Jesus…”
Folding her arms over herself uncomfortably, she began pacing the crown of the hill, peering down the slope in search of him, when one of Adrian’s friends shouted from the other side.
“He’s over here!”
Adrian and his friends stood as a group, staring down the hill. Maria hurried toward them, fists balled.
“He’s where?” she said, coming up behind them.
She pushed past them, scanning the slope for herself. This side of the hill faced the moon, washed bright and chalky and flat in its light. It was a minute before her eyes adjusted and she realized which shape was his at the bottom of the slope—a funny shape at that, still wearing Santino’s jacket. His silhouette bled cleanly into the pool of shadow the moon cast behind him.
“Michael!” she said, and started down. He didn’t move when she called. For an instant, she wondered if it was perhaps a trick of the light. “Michael…”
He faced the horizon, arms at his sides. Maria arrived next to him. She bent to see his face, to let him see the fury in hers, but he hardly noticed her. He squinted, eyes observing the rolling desert ahead, as though looking for something.
“Hey,” Maria said sharply, demanding his attention. “What are you doing? Didn’t you hear me calling? I yelled your name, like, three times.”
The cool air prickled her body again, a wave of chills up and down her sides. Her eyes darted across the desert, curious what he looked at, but she was too impatient to wonder for long.
“Hey,” she repeated. “You’re being weird. Look at me.”
“Do you hear them?” he said.
Far off, almost a white noise by now, those same coyotes barked and howled. She listened briefly, and that was all she heard. Nothing else. She hugged herself a little tighter as another chill seized her. It was getting colder and colder, the later into the night they stayed.
“It’s just coyotes howling,” she said. “We listened to them already. Why did you wander off by yourself? You need to stay with me.”
“One of them howled my name. I heard it.”
Maria blinked. She searched her brother’s face, stared intently into his eyes, seeking a punchline but not detecting one. She sighed, growing increasingly impatient with him.
“Nice. Great. You mean like grandma’s story?” She continued trying to draw his attention by staring into those moon-sparkled eyes, but they drifted further into the distance, toward the restless sounds of coyotes beyond the hills. “Are you being serious right now? I’m a little pissed off, in case you can’t tell.”
“I heard it,” he said. “My name.”
“Yeah, that was me. When I called for you, like, fifty times.”
“No,” he said. “Before that. When you were talking to Adrian.”
Maria shook her head. She was getting too cold for this. Too eager to get back to their grandmother’s, away from the gawky boys standing and watching from the hilltop. She stood straight, stared off absently just the same as her brother, as her irritated thoughts twisted into violent places. She noticed she was clenching her jaw and took a deep, relaxing breath.
“Everything good?” Adrian called down to them.
Without turning around, she called back, “Yeah…”
“I really heard it,” Michael said, unable to peel his eyes away from those sounds. Although she didn’t believe it herself, Maria understood that he did, and gave him the benefit of the doubt that way, at least.
“Fine. But we’re leaving now. Come on.”
She grabbed him by the hand and pulled him gently toward the slope up.
“You’re mad at me. Are you going to tell mom and dad?”
She paused. “No… even though I should. You’ve done this twice today, you know…”
She led them up the slope back to the others. To Adrian’s and his friends’ visible disappointment—slackened shoulders, knowing glances exchanged between them—Maria told them she was ready to go home. She spared her brother the blame, at least. Or tried to.
“It’s getting cold,” she said. “Even for me.”
Only she had no idea just how cold the desert could get.
CHAPTER FOUR
DESERT HUNGERS
Arriving back at their grandmother’s, both Maria’s parents noticed Michael was unusually quiet. When asked how he enjoyed the moongazing, he shrugged indifferently. Maria explained that it was less exciting than he imagined.
Driving back to their motel, their mother asked, “Michael, you doing okay back there? You’re so quiet…”
“I’m tired,” he said, and he certainly sounded it.
Maria watched him dubiously as he watched out his window, eyes glued to the desert hills, the moonlight spilling down them like milk. He liked attention, and he definitely had a habit of reacting strangely or exaggeratively to things in order to get it. But this seemed different. It was the opposite of attention-seeking. He wasn’t pouting. He wasn’t giving anyone the silent treatment. He was simply elsewhere. Oblivious.
As their parents shared the bathroom that night, Maria watched her brother carefully as he climbed into bed next to her, quiet even still.
“What’s with you tonight?” she asked.
He scowled defensively. “What? Nothing.”
“You’re being weird still. Like you’re in a bad mood or something.”
“No, I’m just tired…”
He pulled the covers over himself. He turned over onto his stomach, facing the other way. Maria leaned closer to him, observed his calm face. His eyes were shut.
“Did grandma’s stories freak you out?” she asked innocently.
“No…” he said.
“You sure?” She paused. He said nothing. “I just want to make sure you know… that’s all they were. Just stories.”
“I know.”
“So don’t think about them too much. It’s not real.”
“I’m not.”
Maria sucked the inside of her cheek, thinking. “Okay…”
She lay her head down on her pillow and pulled the covers over herself likewise. She turned and stared at the back of his head, wondering what on earth might be transpiring inside it. She knew he lied. The stories had spooked him. Then the desert. It wasn’t her fault, she knew. Normally it would have been, but not this time. Yet she still felt responsible, somehow.
She turned onto her side, away from him, toward her parents’ bed. She yawned and closed her eyes.
Oh well, she thought. They would be his nightmares, not hers.
&n
bsp; Just then, her phone vibrated noisily on the nightstand. She swiped it up.
After asking Nick the first time how the party was going, and reading his response, Maria hadn’t messaged him since. The thought of telling him goodnight made her gut somersault. She didn’t know why. Well, sort of, she did.
Tiffany Sommers.
It could mean nothing. Nick had friends who happened to be girls. Tiffany Sommers wasn’t one of them, not that she knew, but people make new friends every day…
She’d never responded to Kayleen’s initial text, and now she’d received another. She was reluctant to open it. To read it. To learn the latest developments. It was likely nothing, she thought. Drama. Needless, unsubstantiated drama. Rumors. Nothing she wanted to wonder about. She opened the conversation and read Kayleen’s newest message.
Have you talked to Nick at all tonight?
Maria couldn’t find the willpower to respond. She’d rather sleep. As she stared at her phone’s screen, a second message appeared.
Because you should.
Maria took a long, exhausted breath. Should she really, she wondered? Could Kayleen be any more vague? Any more dramatic? It was hard to believe such a message was in any way for Maria’s benefit. Teenage theatrics. Maria liked telling herself she was above all that, the petty games her peers played with their own hearts. But if that were true, why was hers beating so damn fast?
She responded to Kayleen: Why?
Her phone vibrated three times in quick succession. As she read each new message, her pounding heart pounded harder still, and her hands felt weak and wobbly around her phone as she tried to message Kayleen for more details. Except she didn’t need more details. She’d been told enough. But was Kayleen trustworthy, her mind reasoned? Could she be mistaken?
“Everything okay?”
Maria glanced up in surprise as her mother came out from the bathroom. She must have noticed her daughter’s expression, buried in the hypnotic glow of her phone. Maria tried to think of something to say for about five seconds before she finally settled on the truth.
“I don’t think so,” she said.
“What’s the matter?”
Maria scrolled up and down the short exchange with Kayleen, a bit unsure herself.
“I think…” She paused. Even if she wanted to talk to her mom about this, this wasn’t the place. Not with Michael laying beside them, and her dad about to enter the room at any moment. No, not here. “I think I need to call Nick.”
“Oh.” Her mom glanced around the room, likely thinking their motel room wasn’t the place for that, either. “If you need privacy, I think your dad’s about finished getting ready in the bathroom…”
“No, that’s okay.” Maria stood from bed. “I think I’ll go outside for a second.”
“Here.” Her mom offered her jacket. Maria hadn’t thought to pack her own. “It’s a little chilly out there.”
“Thanks.”
Maria slipped the jacket on. Her mom stood before her and did up the first few buttons. She noticed something as she did, and smiled.
“Still wearing that, huh?”
Maria looked down, unsure what she meant, and noticed the leather necklace still around her neck.
“Oh, ha,” she said. “I guess I just forgot I was wearing it…”
“Looks good on you.” Her mom squeezed her shoulders comfortingly. “I’m here if you want to tell me about it. Let me know if I need to kick his ass.”
“Mom…”
“Because I know a thing or two about high school boys.”
Maria smiled. Her mom gave her a quick kiss on the temple and let her go. Quickly, she stuffed her feet into her shoes and stepped outside, gently closing the door behind her.
The motel parking lot was cool and calm. So quiet, in fact, the sounds her sneakers made on the asphalt as she sat down on the walkway curb seemed criminally noisy. She checked around herself, feeling eerily alone and exposed. It was possible, she thought, that along the entire stretch of road running through Wellwyn, she had its night sky all to herself at this hour. Every resident was in bed by now, the passage of time and the night unknown to them. All but her.
She held her phone against her clamped knees, huddled on the curb with all the privacy she could want. There were still just the three cars parked—theirs, the motel manager’s, and what appeared to be the same bickering couple’s car. Observing them, she noticed the reflection of the moon caught on one of the cars’ windshields, hanging someplace in the sky behind her where she couldn’t see.
She read through Kayleen’s messages one last time. She grimaced. Disappointed. It wasn’t quite heartbreaking, she thought, and was mildly amazed to feel that way. Or maybe it was denial she felt.
She opened up Nick’s conversation. Nothing new. Not even a goodnight between them. No checking in. That was odd, wasn’t it? He must have been preoccupied with something else.
Someone else.
She already knew she wasn’t going to call him. She knew all along her reason for stepping outside was so she could cry about it, but she wasn’t going to do that, either. Let it die, she thought. It was already dead, so let it stay that way. No phone calls. No accusations. No hurt feelings. Except hers. Just let it be dead. And though she knew her mom was eager to be there for her, she wouldn’t go to her about it, either. No. It was much easier this way. Nothing of value was lost. She understood that. Maybe coming on this family trip was a hidden blessing. Otherwise, how long might she have gone dating such a… such a… such a…
She looked up from her phone as a strange sound interrupted her brooding. Somewhere toward the street. Her eyes searched. She thought she recognized the sound, though only from movies or television…
Hoo, hoo.
There it was again, and it was loud. Her eyes focused on the sign near the parking lot entrance—tall and dark and unassuming—and spotted something perched on top. An oval of shadow there. The top of the oval swiveled, and although she couldn’t see it too well from this distance, she sensed it watching her.
Hoo, hoo, hooooooooo…
She relaxed, and watched the owl carefully. There was an odd satisfaction in knowing they shared this quiet, secret hour of the night. Just the two of them. What she wouldn’t give to have an owl’s talons, she thought, for when she returned home from their trip and saw Nick again…
The owl continued to hoot periodically as she spent a while longer sitting and listening. The longer she remained on the curb, thinking her poisoned thoughts and naïve denials, the more the air chilled her through her mother’s jacket and the more the owl’s hoots began to carry with them a disquieting meaning. She narrowed her eyes as she watched it, still watching her like a spy of some kind, a sentry employed by the motel’s management. Out of reach. All-seeing. Dispassionate.
Not so comforting after all.
With a groan, she got to her feet and returned to their room. The lights were off, her parents’ shapes resting in their bed. Maria shut the door quietly behind her,
“Lock it, please,” her mom’s voice whispered.
Almost having forgotten, Maria turned and did just that.
“Is everything all right?”
“Yes,” Maria lied.
She crossed the room carefully in the dark. She set her phone on the nightstand, then climbed into bed beside her brother. She pulled the covers over herself, head on her pillow. Michael breathed softly next to her. He was already asleep.
She closed her eyes and welcomed the same.
✽ ✽ ✽
Under the glow of the Pale Mother’s light, the wolf shed its fur.
The owl shed its feathers.
Room #4 was quiet with a curse of slumber.
✽ ✽ ✽
The bed shifted. The mattress springs whined. Maria opened her eyes.
Night was still upon them. Across the room, beyond her parents’ bed, their only window was still dark with it, the curtains pulled shut to block any light that might dare intrude. Sh
e reached for her phone on the nightstand, wondering what time it was, when she felt the bed shift again. It was Michael, climbing out of bed. She squinted sleepily, tracking his small form in the dark as he moved along the bed, around it, and then cut across toward the room door.
“Where are you going?” she whispered.
He didn’t respond.
Upon reaching the door, there was the click of the lock unbolting and then the door opened. A wedge of dim moonlight cut the floor of their room. Michael stood silhouetted in the doorway, facing the parking lot, barefoot in his undersized pajamas. He paused there a moment.
“Michael,” Maria said. “What are you doing?”
Without a word, he stepped outside and was gone.
She lay briefly as her mind sought an explanation that would save her from having to get out of bed. But there wasn’t such an explanation. Sleepwalking, she wondered? Finally, she pulled the covers off herself and hurried quietly to the motel door. She leaned outside, the brisk night air chilling her face. There he was, shadow shimmying along the walkway, headed toward the rear of the motel. She called after him one last time just as he disappeared beyond the corner there, out of sight. Feeling slightly dizzied, the vague sensation she was dreaming, she turned to see the street in the other direction—a quiet, lifeless void.
She returned inside, to her parents’ bed.
“Dad,” she said urgently, approaching his side nearest the door.
Her parents lay as lumps of shadow under their covers, breathing heavily in the dark. She put her hands on her dad’s shoulder and gave him a gentle shake.
“Dad. Wake up.”
His heavy breathing was unchanged. Maria leaned over his body, just making out the dark hollows of his eyes. She shook him again, harder, enough that the bed groaned beneath the weight.
“Dad,” she urged him, pressing him repeatedly under both her hands. She leaned over him, toward her mom. “Mom!”
They lay like corpses, unresponsive, though their heavy breathing indicated they weren’t that. An awful, haunting sensation dripped over her as she stared at their sleeping faces. Cold and surreal. Though the ground remained steady under her feet, she felt the room tilt, threatening to spill her from what must be a vivid nightmare…
