Devil Moon (21 page)

Canned screams blasted from loud speakers piercing the growing darkness as Phil, Melissa, Maddie, and the football team gathered in the locker room. Beaver Cove's jocks now resembled monsters, mummies, and chainsaw murderers.

Maddie wrapped Martinez as the Creature from the Black Lagoon, then sprayed him with dark green silly string that trailed around him. Phil dabbed fake blood on a murder victim's head where an axe appeared to be lodged.

"Stu, you never looked better in your life," Phil said.

"Think I could pick up girls like this, Coach?"

"Well, anything would be an improvement," Melissa sassed.

"Watch it, squirt, or I'll hold you under a cold shower," Stu replied.

"You and who else, four-eyes?"

Other football players joined in. "I'll help!" "Me, too." "I'll wash out her smart mouth with soap."

The over-grown monsters surrounded the skinny eleven-year-old, who looked ready to take them all on. As a dozen pair of hands grabbed her, she squealed, laughed, and yelled, "Daddy, help!"

Macho male voices imitated her girly tone. "Daddy, help!…Daddy, help!"

Melissa dangled in the air, kicking her feet in a futile attempt to escape. Maddie feared the fun might get over zealous and was about to issue a cease-and-desist command when Phil's baritone voice barked over the teenage din.

"Drop her! Nobody throws the coach's daughter in the shower except the coach. You screw-offs better get over to the gym and report for duty to Mr. Bailey. Kick-off is in half-an hour."

The boys gave Melissa some rough big-brother type shoves and made good-natured farewells as they headed out the door for spook assignments, leaving Maddie, Phil, and Melissa alone in the locker room.

Melissa cleaned up the leavings from monster-making as Maddie and Phil stared wordlessly at each other for a moment. Then Maddie cleared her throat and said, "Well, I guess I'd better get into costume. I've got it hanging back here. I'll just change now that the coast is clear."

Phil nodded curtly. "Sure."

Maddie walked behind a row of lockers, her flats echoing against the concrete and metal of the room. The locker door clanged as she found the costume she'd worn last year. The long black gown of Morticia Adams had floated over her thin body and she didn't think her figure had changed so much yet that she couldn't get away with it one more time. As Maddie pulled off her turtleneck sweater and jeans, she heard Melissa talk to Phil in the center of the room.

"Hey, Dad, do you know what the pirate movie I watched last night was rated?"

"No, what?"

"AARRrrr!"

Phil chuckled. "That was a good one, kid."

"I've got something for you, Dad."

"Yeah, it's not fake vomit or exploding gum, is it?"

"Nah, it's something I made for you."

Maddie noted shyness in Melissa's voice and then heard a locker open.

"What is it?" Phil asked.

"It's a scrap book I made. I found a box of all kinds of articles about you from the olden days and I've been saving everything in our newspaper about you and the team."

A bench squeaked as Phil and Melissa sat down. "You made this?"

Maddie couldn't help but hear the awe in his voice.

"Yeah…Here you are in high school, right here in Beaver Cove. You wore your hair long then…That's you and Mom."

As the pages turned, Phil and Melissa made joking comments about his changing hairstyles. A couple of times Phil reminisced about a particular game. Maddie sensed the regret in his voice when he reached a story about his back injury. Then they got to the present-day articles.

Melissa's voice sounded low and subdued. "Did you mean what you said in this article? Did you really move back here so you could be with me?"

"Damn right. It wasn't for the great pay. Why did you think I moved here?"

"Mom said it was because it was the only job you could get. That being a small town football coach was the best you could do."

"Listen kid, I had a good job. But it took me all over the country and kept me away from you. And whether you believe it or not, you're the most important person in my life."

"Really?"

"Do you want me to write it in blood? Cripes, women." Phil's gruff reply brought tears to Maddie's eyes.

"So, do you like it?" Melissa asked.

"Well, it's alright. But it's missing something."

Melissa sounded crestfallen. "What?"

"There's not one single picture of my daughter in here. Not one mention of the day she was born, or the first word she said, which was 'Da', by the way. Those are the most important events in the life of Phil Wilcox, not all this football stuff."

"Oh, Daddy!" Maddie couldn't see it, but she felt sure Melissa had just wrapped her thin arms around her father's neck and given him a big kiss on the cheek.

Phil spoke low. "The scrap book is great, kid. Just like you."

"I love you, Daddy."

"I love you too, baby."

Maddie leaned against the cold metal of the gray locker, struggling to keep a sob from exploding from her lungs. Drat her hormones.
Get a grip, get a grip
.

After a few quiet moments, Melissa said, "I better go. I gotta work the popcorn booth." The door creaked as Melissa left.

Tears streamed down Maddie's face as she struggled into the black dress. As she slipped into her black pumps, she realized the dress was definitely tighter than last year and she couldn't zip herself up.

"Oh, darn!" she moaned.

Phil's voice reverberated back to her. "Do you need some help?"

Maddie wiped her eyes with her fingers, attempting to stem the tide of tears that seemed to always be near the surface. She waddled out to find Phil.

"I'm afraid so. I can't reach the zipper." She rounded the corner of the lockers and held up the front of her dress as she neared him.

"Well, turn around," he said, as his eyes swept over her.

His breath brushed her back as he tugged the metal tab upwards. She still felt a little weepy. "You're a very good father. Melissa's so fortunate to have you."

Phil grunted as he worked to close the zipper. "And here I thought you pretty much consider me dog meat."

Maddie hung her head. She really didn't know what to think about Phil. If he had been her intruder and taken Grammy's quilt, he'd shown no signs of recognition at the countless hints and accusations she'd volleyed his way. She was beginning to have her doubts. And in truth, she missed him. Whatever had transpired between them had been sudden and strong and she missed the banter, the teasing...the understanding. Phil seemed to understand her like no one else in the world.

With a final tug, the dress gripped her body in a completely different manner than the previous year. Phil gently held her shoulders and turned her around to face him. Then his eyes riveted to her bust line. Maddie followed his gaze and saw her rounded bosom bulging over the top of the black dress.

Her hands quickly flew up to cover her nakedness. "It didn't fit me like this last year!"

Phil's mouth formed an appreciative grin. "Oh, the difference a year can make."

Maddie turned and took mincing steps to a mirror. "Oh my God, I look like the Halloween Happy Hooker."

He walked up behind her and gazed over her shoulder into the mirror. "I've got a black cape from a Dracula costume back there. You can cover yourself with that." His eyes seemed mesmerized by her image and they locked gazes in the mirror.

His voice dropped to an unconscious low caress. "You have beautiful skin, Maddie."

He didn't touch her, but she shivered as if he'd stroked her bare shoulder. She could almost feel his kisses on her throat, sparking those special secret places so long denied stimulation. While they stood stock still before the mirror, it seemed their reflections fulfilled their longing to wrap in each other's arms. She watched her head fall back as his mouth dipped to explore the curves of her throat, tease the sensitive moles with the tip of his tongue. Breathing became difficult as she imagined the feathery sensation of his fingers exploring the exposed skin of her chest. Her breasts tingled in anticipation of his touch.

The enchanted locker room mirror caught Phil in its spell also. He relished her taste as his mouth traveled the forbidden territory of her beautiful neck, round and round those raised dots of sensitivity. One hand entwined around her waist as the other gripped the back of her head. Her body fit perfectly against him and his fingers swept across the soft, creamy pillowed flesh pushed above the black material. Her texture and scent filled his senses with an overwhelming feeling of
déjà vu
.

She actually moaned, which brought them back to reality. Their reflections once again only stared back at them. They moved away from the mirror and broke the spell.

"I'd better get you that cape," Phil said.

Something teetered on the edge of Phil's mind as he found the costume and brought it back to Maddie's waiting figure. She appeared to be struggling to regain her composure as he draped the cape around her shoulders and then moved to the front of her to tie it about her neck. She lifted her chin to give him better access and that's when his eyes stilled on the trio of moles. He'd just experienced some bizarre fantasy involving those enticing birthmarks and now he was slammed with a memory.

A radiating disc in the sky shimmering silver light on ripples of water. A Moon Goddess white as marble, warm as a waterbed. Three dark dots resting on a long, pulsing throat.
Two strangers melting into each other arms, stealing moments of passion and peace. A homey quilt grabbed on impulse.

Phil mechanically finished tying the ends of the strings, stunned by the images and thoughts twirling about in his mind. Could Maddie have possibly been the mystery woman that night? Was
she
the Moon Goddess?

She stepped away from him, oblivious to his revelations. "I must go find Randy. He has the black wig that really finishes off the outfit."

She'd almost reached the door when his voice stopped her. "Maddie, are you by any chance missing a quilt?"

She froze and turned back to him slowly. "So, it
was
you."

Shock charged through Phil's body. "You
knew
?"

"Well, I couldn't be sure, of course. But I'm an intelligent woman. It didn't take me long to figure it out. And really, I understand. People can do strange things when they're emotionally upset. Let's put the whole episode behind us and forget it. Actually, it's a relief to know it was you and not some weird stranger. I would like to remain your friend. You can return the quilt any time it's convenient." She glanced at the wall clock. "Oh, dear, it's getting so late. Randy will have my head if I don't do my part. Everything is such a big production with him. Thank you so much, Phil, for clearing the air. See you later."

With that, she hobbled out the door in her tight dress and cape, leaving Phil completely flummoxed.

* * *

Wade and Reba drove up as the crowd gathered to enter the spooky attraction. Wade had been up for twenty-four hours and was buzzed from a fresh hit to get him through the night. He figured to make big money tonight. Word had been spread with key people that he had the goods. He designated a cove of trees in the woods to be his "office" where he'd be open for business.

Valuable little baggies sat in a shoe box in the backseat of the extended cab, guarded by Wade's most ferocious dog, Lucifer. And, of course, Wade's trusty shotgun lay close at hand. The truck kicked up dust as it cut into the parking lot.

Wade's hands rapped a rhythm on the steering wheel as he turned hot eyes onto Reba. "You better have your ass back here at ten o'clock."

He’d almost left her at home after seeing her flimsy Bride of Frankenstein get-up. But she made his presence at the school more legit.

"Okay, Pa, see you later."

As she opened the door, a figure passed the front of the truck dressed in black, illuminated by the still-burning truck lights. Wade recognized the stuck-up assistant principal.

"Miz Bailey! Wait up," Reba said.

The woman stopped. "Hi, there! All ready for the monster mash?"

Reba ran to her side as Wade eased open his door and approached the two females. A gust of wind caught the black cape and flipped it open, exposing an inviting rack.

"Evenin' Miss Harris," he said as he leaned against the truck.

"Good evening, Mr. Finn. And the name is Mrs. Bailey now," she replied, as she gripped the cape closed.

Reba said, "She married my drama teacher, Pa."

Wade chortled. "Well, ain't that romantic?"

The bitch looked down her nose at him. "We really must be moving along. Come on, Reba, you can pick me up if I trip in this silly dress. I'd forgotten how little room there is around the ankles to take a decent step."

Wade spoke to their departing backs in his most ingratiating tone. "You go and have real good time, sister. Good seein' you, Mrs. Bailey."