Sarah Of The Moon (14 page)

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Authors: Randy Mixter

BOOK: Sarah Of The Moon
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The talk quickly divided the assembled house members into two distinct factions. On one side were those of an optimistic bent who found the weather event to be spectacularly cool. On the other side were the gloom and doomers led by Chick, who insisted this was God’s way of announcing he sided with the establishment.

After much discussion, during which both sides held their ground, Chick declared a truce of sorts stating that the combination of thunder and expounding hypothesis gave him a headache.

The talk turned to matters, of a more topical nature, the current and future well-being of Haight-Ashbury and its inhabitants.

“The world as we know it is changing,” Isis said. She sat on the floorboards. Scarlett had crawled on to her lap.

“By October,” she continued, “this place will be a ghost town.”

“Some are leaving already,” Beth Hope, the oldest of the Hope sisters, added.

“Going to communes or going home. Most feel it is too crowded here.”

“Or that the dream has died,” her sister Maura added.

“The only ones going home are the pretenders,” Chick said. His eyes were shut and Belladonna rubbed his temples.

“Once we split up,” Cactus Girl said between sips of wine, “nothing will get accomplished.”

“Not necessarily,” Alex answered. “If you have faith in your beliefs, you can spread the message throughout the land. The apostles did it a long time ago and it worked out pretty good.”

“It seems we have a new spokesman for our cause,” Chick said curtly, as Belladonna increased the pressure on his forehead.

“He
is
a spokesman for our cause, Chick,” Sarah countered in a similar brusque tone. “You should know that. You’ve read his articles. He understands us maybe more than we understand each other. Be happy he’s giving us a place in history, and be happy he’s giving us advice.”

“You’re right,” Chick responded with some humility. “Sorry champ, it’s this damn headache.”

“No problem,” Alex replied, and he realized that he was wrong about who he assumed was the leader of the house.

There was more discussion on the general state of affairs in the community, but when the conversation switched to the music scene, Benny spoke up.

“I almost forgot,” he said. “I’ll be right back.”

He ran into the house. A minute later, he was in the foyer, his record player and an album in hand.

“I picked this up at the Psychedelic Shop this afternoon. They said it’s really wild.”

He plugged in his player and opened the house window behind the swing.

“It’s the new Beatles album called Sgt. Pepper’s Lonely Hearts Club Band.”

 

The thunder and lightning moved into the distance. Chick lost his headache and grooved to the music, announcing after the second listening that ‘A Day in the Life’ was the best song of all time. The porch joined the chorus of ‘Lucy in the Sky with Diamonds’ after the third playing, and the meaning of ‘With a Little Help from My Friends’ invoked discussion each time it played.

Alex knew this would be one of those moments he remembered for the rest of his life. For the longest time, he leaned against Sarah and took it all in. Sarah, in sharp contrast to her reserved dinner manner, had opened up, talking and laughing with everyone around her.

He felt a twinge of jealousy when she engaged Matt in a playful debate about the politics of war. Her maturity and knowledge of current events, at such a young age, frightened him a little. To debate her on any subject, as Matt found out, was an exercise in futility.

Outside of the dinner table, this was the first time Alex had seen all the houseguests gathered in one spot for so long. The secure feeling of family was in the air. A mighty storm from the bay had bound the house together as no dinner meal could. Alex felt accepted for the first time since his arrival. He no longer saw himself as an outsider. For better or worse, he was one of the houseguests now.

 

The rain had slowed down and Alex wanted to know the time, but, with Belladonna sitting close by, he dared not reach into his pocket for his watch.

Despite the late hour, all the houseguests remained on the porch. Bowls of potato chips and Fritos made their way around the floor, as did the random joint and wine bottle.

Sarah finished her cup of wine and snuggled closer to Alex.

“Meet me in the storage room in fifteen minutes.” she said and stood up.

“It was nice to meet you Matt. Thank you for your story earlier.”

Matt nodded in gratitude. “Thank you, Sarah. I’ve got a lot more where that came from.”

Sarah smiled at him then disappeared through the door.

 

Belladonna, Isis, and Cactus Girl excused themselves, each with a sleeping child wrapped in their arms. The Hope sisters finished off the remainder of the wine, and then they too called it a night.

Cowboy, Benny, Skip, Sandman, and Chick concluded that such a strange but ultimately blissful night required a fitting nightcap. Chick lit one last joint and passed it around as ‘A Day in the Life’ played in the background.

With Belladonna safely inside, Alex pulled the watch out of his pants pocket. It was almost midnight. Matt and Celeste sat next to him, leaning against the side porch railing. Matt whispered something in her ear that caused her to break into a fit of giggles. Matt found this too cute to resist and he kissed her cheek. She wrapped her arms around him and laid her head against his chest. He held her tightly and smiled. The rain had nearly stopped but Alex had the feeling Matt would not be walking to Fulton Street this night.

Before he had a chance to excuse himself, Chick called him over to the swing. He offered him a hit of the smoke in his hand, which Alex politely refused.

“I think it is honorable of you to stay clear of the devil weed and other mind altering chemicals.”

“Yeah, more for us,” Cowboy added.

“Is it because of Sarah?” Chick asked.

Alex saw no reason to beat around the bush at this late hour.

“Yes, it is because of her.”

“She is very much against putting impurities into one’s system,” Chick continued.

Chick’s slow and deliberate manner put Alex on edge. He needed to go. He still had to brush his teeth and freshen up a bit. On top of that, his nerves showed telltale signs of fraying.

“She didn’t go to the park tonight. Why was that?”

“I don’t know, Chick,” Alex said, while fidgeting a bit.

“She always goes to the hill, always, no matter how bad the weather.” Chick began rubbing his temples.

“This headache refuses to leave gracefully. Anyhow, I’m sorry about my gruffness earlier. You’re a good friend.”

“Thanks, Chick,” Alex said, and took his leave while Chick’s eyes were tightly closed.

PASSAGES

Alex brushed his teeth,
administered a substantial amount of underarm deodorant on any area deemed suitable, and slapped on some English Leather cologne. His watch read ten after twelve, which put him close to, or possibly exceeding, Sarah’s fifteen-minute edict.

His mind clouded with thoughts of proper protocol for the situation at hand. He thought of the James Bond movies, trying to remember Sean Connery’s words to Pussy Galore before their tumble in the hay.

The situation facing him was unlike anything he had faced before. What was Sarah’s experience in the field of romance? Was she an expert in the lovemaking department? Or was she a novice too?

He was so absorbed in these questions, he nearly stepped into Cowboy’s stairway hole. He swore to himself and slowed his pace. It would do him no good to come up lame on such a memorable occasion.

The Beatles album spun on the record player as he crossed the lobby, appropriately playing the song ‘Fixing a Hole’. Through the window, he saw Chick and his crew and Matt and Celeste still on the porch.

He turned down the hallway and into the tranquility room, now, at least temporarily, the tranquility warehouse.

Boxes lay scattered about the floor, and chairs, lamps, and two small tables, thrown against the back wall, added to the clutter.

Jezebel emerged from behind a stack of boxes and attached herself to Alex’s leg, purring contentedly. The slightest sliver of candlelight danced in the crack between the storage room door and the wooden floor. Then the door shimmered and vanished. A candle burned on a wooden cabinet of three drawers, next to a vase of flowers and a framed picture of a man and a woman in a loving embrace. There were five nails buried in the wall by the cabinet. Sarah’s white dress hung on the middle nail. To his right a small bed graced the worn floorboards. A sheet of whiteness, brighter than the candle’s flame, covered the bed. Sarah lay in its folds. Her hair, burnished to an ember glow, spread across the sheet and pillow where she rested her head. On her lips was the slightest of whispers, beckoning him to join her.
Tonight we are of the fire. We are more than a promise. We are the certainty of two hearts joined. We are tomorrow and forever.
She lifted the sheet and her eyes flashed with promise.
We are one.

 

Alex shook off his imagination and picked up Jezebel. There was no doubt of his lateness now. The black cat, cradled in his arms, would be his peace offering.

He opened the door and found his mind’s depiction of the room had been accurate. Everything was exactly as he visualized it.

“Normally I’d say three’s company,” Sarah said from the bed, “but I’ll make an exception this time. Jezebel, thank you for bringing Alex along.”

She lay in the cusp of shadow and light, even more beautiful than he had imagined. His heart beat fast enough to startle Jezebel out of his arms and onto the bed, where she curled up comfortably beneath Sarah’s feet.

“You might want to shut the door,” Sarah said, “unless you want Sgt. Pepper as an all night companion.”

Alex closed the door behind him, and the Beatles obligingly faded away into the night.

“Cozy,” he said, as he studied a room not significantly larger than his home bedroom closet.

“It was this or under the porch,” Sarah added.

“In that case, home sweet home it is,” Alex replied.

“It looks bigger from down here.” She patted the sheet next to her.

He could feel her eyes on him in the light of the candle, which now seemed brighter than the mid-day sun. He was about to blow out the flame, and take his chances undressing in the dark, when she spoke.

“I will close my eyes until you climb into bed, but don’t be long or I’ll be forced to peek.”

He saw her eyes close and began to disrobe like a madman. Twice he bumped against the wall, and once, as he was taking off his socks, the cabinet saved him from serious injury.

Sarah giggled as he fumbled around, but was true to her word and kept her eyes shut. He hung up his pants and shirt on two available nails and, in his underwear, hopped into bed, carefully avoiding a cat trying to sleep through the commotion.

“Is it safe to open my eyes now? Are the walls still standing?” she asked.

“I see you didn’t ask me if I sustained any injuries while you were safely tucked away in bed,” Alex said.

“I’m not sure I was in the safest of spots considering how much you stumbled. I could have easily been crushed during your de-pantsing.” Sarah added.

“Actually, your real time of jeopardy was when I removed my shoe and socks. That could have easily gone either way.”

She moved closer to him.

“It’s good you didn’t take off your underwear,” she said when she was close enough to know. “That would have been tempting fate.”

The banter was keeping his nerves in check, and he had a reply in mind, but then she kissed him on the lips, effectively ending the conversation.

Her body molded against his, and he knew he wore the only article of clothing under the sheet. They kissed again and her mouth opened enough for a playful tongue to tease him. He wrapped an arm around her back and one behind her head holding her in place.

“I’m kind of new at this,” he said at one point.

“So am I,” she replied.

 

Jezebel was enjoying a peaceful sleep when a pair of white cotton briefs whizzed by her ear. She looked up and cocked her head toward the body of the bed. Her good eye saw the sheets twisting lower, moving toward her. The mattress creaked and jerked about and, every so often, a foot would nudge her. It would not be a good night for sleeping, she thought as she lowered her head between her paws.

 

Sarah rested her head in the hollow of his shoulder. The room was dark now, the candle extinguished.

“Are you asleep?” he asked her.

“No.”

“You didn’t go to the hill tonight.” He didn’t want it to be a question, but he was hoping to solve a mystery or two before dawn.

“You want to know why I dance on the hill, don’t you.”

“You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to.”

There was a moment of silence.

“I’ll tell you. You’ve been patient enough.”

Again, there was silence. He was going to tell her that it was all right. He really was okay with not knowing. He was ready to tell her that when she spoke.

“I was fourteen when my parents died. We were in a car coming back from a weekend trip to a cabin they had rented in the woods. It was late at night and I was sleeping in the back seat.

I woke up to their laughter. I didn’t know what time it was, but I remember the full moon shining on me in the back seat, casting the car in a brilliant light.

They were still laughing when I fell asleep. Then I had a dream.”

Sarah shivered in his arms. She felt cold and he held her close.

“I was lying on cold soft earth. I heard the sound of water lapping on a shore and thought there must be a lake nearby. When I opened my eyes there was fog all around me, the morning sun was rising slowly in front of me, through the haze.

I stared at the mist and thought of ghosts drifting among the clouds. I heard voices in the haze, soft and lilting, beckoning to me, like small children demanding attention.

I felt the presence of angels, and knew I was among them. I knew Heaven was near, somewhere in the haze, just beyond my reach.

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