Moonglow (31 page)

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Authors: Michael Griffo

BOOK: Moonglow
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The transformation feels different this time. It's still excruciatingly painful; I still feel like my limbs are being ripped out of their sockets; I still feel the fur growing from underneath my skin as it envelopes my body, but this time right before I pass out I feel hopeful. I see my father looking at me. His back isn't turned; he's looking right into my eyes, and I can see him forcing himself to remember that I'm his little girl. It's comforting to know he'll always be there for me even when I disappear.
When the plastic bag is pulled over my head, I hold on to the image of my father's face. His compassion and devotion and unconditional love help me remember that I'm not alone, and it gives me strength. This time, instead of feeling like someone has taken over my body and I'm nothing more than cargo, I feel like I'm sharing the controls. This wolf spirit is still stronger than me, still calling the shots, but at least I don't feel as lost, and I definitely don't feel trapped. How could I when the cage door opens with a loud creak to announce my freedom?
A rush of wind passes over me; the front door must be opened too. The plastic bag around my face billows, making it even harder to see. My eyes are cast downward, and I can only see feet as I leave the cage. I look up only once, not to see who's standing next to me, but to try and figure out why there's a red light blinking a few feet away. But just as I do, the smells from outside become too enticing and I'm distracted. Anyway, wrapped tightly within the skin of the wolf, it doesn't matter who came to my rescue or why there's a strange red light nearby; the only thing that matters is that I'm free to feed.
Outside, the air is bitter cold, but I'm on fire. Racing through the open field, the sound of snow-crunch in my wake, I keep moving toward the hills, toward the scent of blood, and stop only when I see the coyote trying to burrow itself into the ground, trying to evaporate into the night to rest or to hide. Silently my mouth opens and my sharp teeth bathe in the moonlight. There will be no resting or hiding tonight, only feasting.
The mixture of flesh and fur and blood fills my mouth and tastes like life itself. It's disgusting and abhorrent and completely natural at the same time. Much more natural than the blinding ball of sunshine floating toward me.
I've witnessed this before so I'm not afraid, only curious. The yellow ball of light hovers before me a few seconds before elongating into a vertical line, and then it spreads out in all directions, brightness taking over the night, shimmering with such intensity that I have to bow my head and avert my gaze. The glow is so dazzling, I could swear that a star has fallen out of the sky. But this isn't a star; it's merely a girl.
“Jess!”
“You know somebody else who's been given the power of the Omikami?”
“What?”
“Google it later,” Jess says. “Right now there's someone who wants to meet you.”
Swinging my head from side to side I don't see anyone, yet I feel another presence lurking in the shadows. Something almost as powerful as this being Jess has become. A shiver travels throughout my body, not because this presence is cold, but because it's empty. The woman emerges from a black hole, and I automatically step back to get closer to the unnatural sunshine. My instincts are confirmed when Jess introduces this woman.
“Luba is evil,” Jess says. “But regardless of all that, she can be trusted.”
“How can evil be trusted?” I ask.
“Just because something is evil, doesn't mean it can't speak the truth.”
The wolf-spirit is gone, perhaps hiding so I can easily see this disgusting woman who did this to me, who cursed me, and I don't want to hear her speak, I don't want to hear her truth, but I know that I have to. Jess wouldn't allow her here if Luba didn't have something important to say.
“She knows how to reverse the curse,” Jess announces.
What?! And she's just going to tell me? After she's finally gotten what she wanted, after her cruel, vindictive plan has succeeded, she's just going to tell me how to get rid of the curse so we can all live happily ever after and make like none of this ever happened? I don't believe it.
“You can believe her,” Jess says, reading my mind. “You may not like what she has to say, Dominy, but you can believe her.”
I turn my eyes from the pure beauty of Jess's yellow glow to the vile nature of Luba's black light and wait for her to speak. Her long black hair lifts in the breeze like impatient snakes anxious to slither on their way.
Tell me, Luba, tell me what I need to know so I can end what you started.
When she speaks her voice sounds like oil spilling into a crystal clear lake, smooth, yet destructive. “If you want to break this curse you must kill the original sinner,” Luba proclaims. “You must kill your father.”
Chapter 24
The sunlight feels wonderful on my face.
It's summer, and we're swimming in the lake. We're shouting and laughing and splashing each other with cool water that dries quickly on our sunburned skin. We're all there, me, Caleb, Archie, Arla, Napoleon, Nadine, Jess. Jess is the happiest of all because it's her birthday, her special day, the first day that she kissed a boy, the first day of the rest of her life. The first day of the rest of her very short life.
Abruptly I open my eyes, and sunlight is still pouring onto my face, but the warmth of my dream has fled and I'm freezing. Because I'm no longer with my friends swimming on a happy summer day; I'm naked and lying on a cold, cement floor.
Without looking over at my father, I cover myself with the blanket that's rolled into a clump at my feet. My modesty is unnecessary because my father is still sleeping in his chair, probably dreaming of a much happier time as well. Maybe the day he first met my mother, when she was driving cross-country and her car broke down on the outskirts of town. She took one look at him and didn't drive another mile. At least that's the story he tells. I suspect if I ever asked my mother she would tell a slightly different version.
Or maybe he's reliving the day he got married at St. Edmund's and thought that he would spend every morning until the day he died waking up next to my mother. Not waking up in a chair after spending the night trying to protect his cursed daughter. But maybe in the back of his head this is the life he always assumed he'd lead. Caretaker to the damned. If that's the case, then why the hell did he ever allow me to be born in the first place?
He should've never gotten married, no matter how much he loved my mother, or he should have simply told her that he didn't want kids. He should've gone to the doctor and had a procedure to make it impossible for him to have children. He should've done a lot of things; but no, he was a reckless child who grew into a reckless adult. The only problem is he's never really suffered from his own actions, while all around him is collateral damage. The proof is written all over his face, such a peaceful expression. Thank God he's sleeping because I can't look at him, let alone speak to him right now!
I don't know how long my privacy will last, so I grab my clothes from the ledge and quickly get dressed. Outside, the clouds must part because the sunlight becomes stronger, and I can feel my face flush from the heat. I don't know why, but I feel like Jess is calling out to me, making me see how stupid I'm acting. Just because my father looks peaceful doesn't mean he's at peace. The anger drifts from me like the dust caught in the beam of sunlight, floating away where it can't harm anyone.
Once I am fully dressed, there's nothing for me to do except wait until my father wakes up. I pull on the bars and the lock is intact, but that really doesn't mean anything. I still could've gotten out of this cage, just like the last time. The only thing that matters is what's on that videotape.
Perfectly on cue, Caleb knocks on the door and uses his key to enter. With him he brings the sunshine. And with the sunshine comes a memory. I wasn't just dreaming of being wrapped in sunshine with Jess, I was remembering the last time I saw her. Last night.
“Morning, Domgirl!” Caleb shouts.
I know that he's shouting because he's scared. It's easier to cover your fears if you yell than if you whisper. But once he hears my father's snoring, he brings the volume down.
“Any news?”
“I saw Jess again.”
“Really?”
It takes me a second to figure out why Caleb is so disappointed.
“So that means you got out again,” he says, nervously twisting the key in the cage's lock.
Stepping into the main room, I try to remember exactly where I saw Jess, but no images appear in my mind. The only thing I remember is blinding sunshine, which doesn't make sense since I saw her at night.
“I don't know,” I reply. “I remember seeing her and talking with her. The details are clearer, but they're still kind of foggy.”
“Give it time; it'll come back to you,” Caleb predicts, his voice back to its usual calm tone. “Nice to know seeing her wasn't just a one-time fluke.”
“No,” I say. “I guess our connection never died even though . . . well, even though one of us did.”
Caleb grabs the plastic garbage bag my father brought with the other supplies and fills it up with my torn clothes. “Makes total sense. You were best friends practically from the time you were born,” he says sweetly. “A connection like that is hard to break.”
Smiling, I look up into my boyfriend's face. “I guess that's true. I just wish my mind wasn't such a blank slate.”
“Well, if you did get out this won't tell us what happened after you left, but it will tell us who set it all in motion,” he says, grabbing the video camera and putting it in his duffel bag. “And my money's on the obvious choice, Luba St. Croix.”
The mere mention of her name wakes my father.
“Dominy!”
“I'm fine, Daddy,” I say.
It only takes him a few seconds to go from snoring to fully awake, probably a combination of fatherly instincts and cop training, and it doesn't take him long to throw a barrage of questions at me.
“Did you get out last night?”
“I don't know, but I do remember seeing Jess, and just now when Caleb mentioned—”
“Wait a second,” my father interrupts. “You
saw
Jess?”
Oops, forgot to fill him in on that piece of information. Quickly I relay the details of my recent Jess sightings to my dad. Instead of being freaked out even further, he thinks it's wonderful.
“You see, honey,” he says, his eyes getting teary, “Jess understands what happened and she forgives you.”
“I'm not sure I completely deserve it, but yeah, she does.”
Now it's Caleb's turn to interrupt.
“What were you going to say?” he asks. “You said, ‘When Caleb mentioned . . .' ”
For a moment, I can't remember what I was going to say; I'm still thinking about Jess, but then it comes back to me. “You mentioned Luba's name and I remembered seeing her too!”
“Really?” Caleb asks. “Kind of weird that you could see them together since one's a ghost.”
For some reason, I start to laugh. “Jess isn't a ghost.”
It's my father's turn to laugh. “Honey, if this whole ordeal has taught me anything, it's that nothing is impossible. Jess has come back as a ghost probably to help you get through this.”
They don't get it. “Jess is definitely some sort of spiritual being—she was bathed in sunlight; it was beautiful and magical—but she's not a ghost,” I say. “She told me what she was, but I can't remember. Why can't I remember anything?!”
“It'll come to you,” Caleb insists.
“Don't push it, Dominy. There might be a reason your memory hasn't returned,” my father adds, his hands firmly placed on my shoulders to get me to stop shaking. “Jess has been through an incredible ordeal too, so just remember you may not like what she has to say, but you can believe her.”
Suddenly my father's hands feel like hundred-pound weights, and I'm being pushed into the floor. I can hear his words repeating and slamming into me like sledgehammers, each strike ripping the plastic bag from my head so I can see clearly. I remember everything that Jess and Luba said to me, and that's why I need Caleb to leave.
“How long do you think it'll take you to watch the whole tape, Caleb?” I ask.
Getting the hint, he picks up his duffel bag. “Shouldn't take me too long, an hour or two at the most, and don't worry, I'll delete the parts when you . . . you know.”
I shrug my shoulders. Caleb's seeing my naked body on video seems inconsequential in comparison to what I remembered.
“Come over the minute you finish,” my father orders.
“Will do, Mr. Robineau.”
Caleb turns to leave, but quickly turns back around to kiss me good-bye. My father coughs awkwardly, Caleb blushes, and I can barely muster a smile. The second Caleb shuts the door, I look at my father, and he immediately knows something is wrong.
“You got out last night didn't you?”
“Yes.”
“And you remember what happened?”
“Yes.”
“Tell me.”
How do I say the words out loud? How do I tell him what Luba told me? I hate myself for the things I was thinking about him earlier. How could he ever know the spell she cast would actually come true? He was just a boy himself. No one in his right mind could ever believe her words would have a future, and no one in his right mind would ever think my father could have such a dreadful past. He's beloved, respected, and admired. He's a pillar of society; he's not a chip in its foundation. Most of all he's my father, and I want him to stay that way, but if I ever want to live a normal life, if I ever want to know what freedom feels like again, I have to lose him.
“Luba told me how to reverse the curse.”
Before I say a word, my father reaches backward to feel the back of the chair and sits down. He sits slowly, like an old man afraid of moving too quickly, fearful of the outcome if he falls. My father looks at me bravely, but I know that he's frightened. Or maybe it's just that I'm more frightened than I've ever been in my life, because I know exactly how he'll respond.
“I have to kill the original sinner,” I say, repeating Luba's words. “I have to kill . . .”
“ Me. ”
Unable to speak another word, I can only nod. I feel as if by just saying that evil woman's words out loud I've stuck a knife in my father's heart. But to look at him you would never know that I just told him he must die in order for me to live a normal life. The fear that threatened to topple him to the floor a few moments ago is gone, replaced with tranquility; he looks as peaceful as he did when he was sleeping.
“Then that's what you have to do,” he says simply.
Oh sure, that's all I have to do. I just have to kill my father.
“What are you talking about?! Didn't you hear what I just said?!”
“I heard every word,” he replies. “And I'm glad that it's that simple.”
My head crashes into the metal bars as I stumble backward. Pain shoots up, out, and down my body, and I have to grab hold of the bars so I don't fall down. “You think that's simple?!” I scream, the tears falling from my eyes, staining my cheeks. “I have to kill you if I want to end this nightmare!”
When my father wraps his arms around me, I push him away hard, and he falls into the boxes behind him. I don't want his stupid, compassionate arms around me! I want him to tell me that there's another way out of this, even though we both know in our hearts that there isn't.
“Dominy,” he says, getting up off the floor, “the curse started with me, so it has to end with me;
it is that simple
.”
Blindly, I start to pace the length of the room, and I feel as trapped as I do when I first step foot in that cage. “You have no idea what you're saying! You have no idea what you're asking me to do!”
Now when my father grabs me I don't have the strength to push him away, but I refuse to look at him. I don't care that his eyes are filled with love and tears and sadness.
“I did this to you! I'm the one responsible for destroying you!” he cries.
I don't have to look at him to know that his mouth his moving, but the sobs that are clutching his throat are making it impossible for him to speak. I know exactly what that feels like. But he's strong, and after a few moments, he wins the fight.
“Dominy, I have tried my entire life to stop this from happening, but I've failed,” he tells me. “I can't find where Luba lives. As far as any records can tell, Thorne St. Croix doesn't exist. There's nothing else for me to do except . . . give up my life so you can live yours.”
The finality and conviction of his words are like slaps across my face, wrenching me from my hysteria and bringing me back to reality. He really expects me to do as Luba has ordered.
“Daddy, I can't.”
The palms of his hands feel so warm against my cheeks, like his blood is pumping into me, like he's already giving me his life.
“Yes, you can,” he whispers. “You have to, baby, because you have no other choice.”
The rest of the room fades away. I'm still looking into my father's face, but I'm a little girl, and we're standing over my mother's lifeless body.
“I don't want to leave here, Daddy,” I remember telling him. “I want to stay here with Mommy forever.”
“Honey, you can't do that; we have to go home,” he said. “You have to go to school and play with your friends and teach Barnaby how to be a good boy.”
“But how can I do that, Daddy, without Mommy?”
“You have to, baby, because you have no other choice.”
He's wrong. I can choose to stay this way forever. I can choose to succumb to this curse and allow it to control and possess and destroy me for the rest of my life or until I can't stand to live any longer. But I know I can't do that; I've only lived with this revolting secret for a few months and already I've caused so much irreversible damage and already my soul feels like it's black as coal. I can't go on like this even if the only alternative means going on without my father.
“Okay.”
It's a pathetic word, but it's the only one I can utter.
My father fails even more completely and can only nod his head.

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