Long Snows Moon (5 page)

“Call off your dog.”

“She hasn’t done anything, yet. Say what you
have to say and leave us alone or I’ll ask her drag you out of here
by the front of your pants.”

“You know what I have to say,” he said.

“Say it.”

“I want a divorce.”

“Gee, what will the neighbors think?” Devon
asked.

“I’m sorry,” he mumbled.

“I’ll give you a divorce on one
condition.”

“What is it?”

“Get me another martini.” She held out her
empty glass.

Trevor retrieved her drink and stormed away.
Devon remained on the patio chair in her antisocial pose for half a
dozen martinis, until the need to relieve her bladder.

Devon caught herself on the back of the chair
and took a few deep breaths to hold back the nausea. She would
rather not heave up Grey Goose and green olives in her parents’
back yard.

“My old bathroom, Bat-Moon,” she slurred.

Moon led her off the patio and out into the
yard to a pathway to the rear of the house. It was a route she’d
used many times as a teenager when sneaking out of the house. They
went into the kitchen and up the back stairway to the second floor.
Devon staggered down the hallway to her childhood bedroom.

Devon rushed into the adjoining bathroom,
swooning from the booze. She performed a clumsy swan dive to the
commode. She caught herself on the back of the toilet with her left
hand, with her right she flicked up the lid. She dropped to her
knees and gauged the adequate distance from the water to avoid
maximum splash. She was a professional puker.

Moon tugged a towel off the rack and wiped
Devon’s face, she flushed the toilet with her paw.

“Thanks, Moon,” Devon mumbled as she fainted
against the cool tile.

Moon rested her head on Devon’s chest.

“I guess I had one too many, huh?”

Moon blinked her wise eyes.

“A few too many, okay, but, I’m the one
paying for it. Throwing up isn’t fun, you know. I wish you could
get me a glass of water. My throat is raw. Oh no, I think I’m going
to get sick again.”

Devon appreciated the moral support. Moon did
her thing with the towel and the toilet. Devon writhed and
beseeched God to let her keep the rest. Some shot out of her nose,
like a backward martini nose douche. She would try to remember that
the next time she drank a martini.

She woke up with water splashing her face.
Moon stood over her, a plastic cup dangled from her teeth

“You brought me water? Moon, you’re too good
to me.” She gulped it, disappointed it but was a mere sip.

Moon took the cup and dunked it in the
toilet. She nudged Devon to take it.

“No thanks.”

Devon perched her chin on the porcelain rim.
As she stared into the toilet bowl, she considered the past ten
years of her life. She refunded what remained of the vodka and
wilted to the floor and wondered if just she drank toilet
water.

Moon nudged her and barked.

“Is someone coming?”

Moon barked once.

Devon used her foot to close the door. No one
had any business upstairs and nobody would have reason to visit
Devon’s old bedroom. Except Devon’s mother.

She smelled her mother’s perfume, Opium.
She’d worn the same scent for as long as Devon remembered. She
smiled and inhaled the familiar aroma feeling less drunk. Devon
crawled forward and cracked the door in time to see Analise enter
the bedroom. She sat on the bed and held Mr. Noodles, one of
Devon’s many stuffed dogs, against her chest. Mr. Noodles was a
beagle that barked when you pulled his string. Her mother turned
the toy over and smiled.

“Do not pull the string,” Devon whispered.
“Do not pull it.” Devon gave Moon a panicked look.

Analise returned the toy atop the mountain of
others and began to cry.

Devon knew she was prying on a private moment
and retreated from the door fighting the urge to rush to her mother
and wipe her tears. Why would her mother be in Devon’s old room
crying at her own party? Maybe Trevor had told her about the
divorce. No, he was a too much of a coward. Maybe it was because
she was having a birthday today. Unlikely. Her mother wasn’t vain,
besides, she was fit and trim and youthful enough people often
mistook them for sisters. Devon went in for another peek.

Analise hung her head and her hair obscured
her face. Claire sat on the bed and brushed it away.

“What’s wrong, Birthday Girl?”

Devon retreated but was still able to hear
them.

“I’m going to miss her so much,” Analise
wailed. “Can’t I tell her good-bye?”

“It’s not part of the plan, she won’t
understand. None of them will. We said we would cut all ties. It’s
the only way.”

“She will understand. She is a free thinker,
you know. She’s dealt with Trevor all these years.”

“I agree Devon is intelligent and open,
that’s not the point. We have waited a long time, Ana, over thirty
years. It’s our turn to be happy. ”

It was all too intriguing not to listen.
Besides, proximity wouldn’t allow her not to, and on top of it all
she’d been there first. Still, she didn’t have to peek, but the
profound silence following the statement made Devon wonder if they
left.

She was stealthy as she inched to the door.
She peered through the opening. The scene was so unexpected it
caught her off guard. Her sudden recoil spilled the glass of toilet
water. Her hand slipped on the water and she hit the back of her
head on the toilet. The instant before she blacked out she
remembered thinking she had never seen her mother kiss her father
that way.

* * * *

“Now I finally see,” Devon frowned. A cloud
sailed above in the shape of an owl perched on a branch. It nodded
at her as if offering wisdom as it crossed the sky. She looked over
and saw Moon watching the sky, too. When Devon looked back, the owl
was gone, replaced by the shape of a howling wolf. She smiled,
feeling as if it were a secret greeting.

“It all makes perfect sense,” she breathed.
“Why was I too blind to realize this before?”

Devon sat up and rubbed the back of her head
as the night’s events rumbled around inside. “Those hypocrites.
Their whole lives are nothing than one elaborate charade. How long
have they been together? Is that why they made me marry Trevor? I
can’t wait to watch the mighty Claire squirm when I tell her I know
the truth.”

Devon jogged back down the path and out of
the woods vacillating between the rage of betrayal and the glee of
tormenting Claire. She and Moon emerged from the woods as Claire’s
enormous black Mercedes rolled by. Analise was in the passenger
seat and Devon was close enough to see stacks of luggage in the
back.

“Hey!” Devon called, but the car windows were
up and the women were oblivious to anyone but one another.

She raced back home and dialed her mother’s
cell phone. Her mouth dropped when she heard the service
disconnection. Her heart pounded in her ears when she got the same
message from Claire’s phone.

“I don’t even get the courtesy of a
good-bye,” she screamed at her cell phone. “I can’t believe they
really left.”

Her head began to swim and she thought she
was about to have an instant replay of last night’s main event. She
trudged to her bar and jerked a bottle of bourbon off the shelf.
She took a long pull, enduring the awful burning in her throat. The
bourbon cleared her head. She took another drink and regarded the
bottle with a fond stare. After another hefty pull, she placed it
on the bar and ran upstairs to her bedroom.

She sat on the edge of her bed and dialed her
mother’s number again listening to the disconnection notice.

The room started to spin and sudden nausea
rose in her throat. She wished she had brought the bottle upstairs.
Devon was a stranger in her own home. Even though Trevor left that
morning, he had been gone for a long time. Her bedroom seemed
ridiculous and foreign.

“What is going on? Why is everyone leaving
me?”

Moon jumped on the bed and nuzzled her.

Devon cuddled her pet. “I know, not you,
never you.” She stroked Moon’s head. “We should get the hell out of
here, too. We have no reason to stay. Where do you want to go? The
Georgia Mountains?”

Moon barked twice. She jumped off the bed and
trotted to the balcony.

The bird sunned itself on the chaise. She
started to call Moon back, but watched, intrigued as Moon communed
with it. It seemed odd that the bird was unafraid. Moon was part
wolf, after all. It squawked with great importance. Moon listened
with interest. The bird hopped up on the stone railing and
penetrated Devon with its eyes. Devon chuckled at the bird’s odd
posture and intense stare. It was as if it wanted to tell her
something.

“I don’t speak bird,” she smirked. She
started to go downstairs to get the bourbon when the nervy bird
flew into Devon’s bedroom. Devon ducked when the bird flapped by
her head. It circled the room twice before depositing it last meal
on her bed. Before Devon objected, it and flew out the French
doors.

Devon rushed to the balcony in time to watch
the bird soar up into the sky and head west.

“That was surreal. Was that a raven?” Devon
wondered aloud.

Moon barked once.

Devon smiled. “Do you even know what a raven
is?”

Moon barked once. She went inside and
returned with a book.

Devon felt the blood drain from her face. The
book was a recent purchase. It was about totem animals, but how in
the world did Moon know that?

“You freak me out sometimes,” she said. “You
really do.”

Moon barked twice.

“Not in a bad way.” Devon dropped to the
floor, opened to the chapter on the raven, and read it aloud. Moon
listened, tilting her head from side to side, as if she
understood.

“The raven is the spreader of knowledge,”
Devon pondered. “It is a harbinger of change and purveyor of
spiritual growth, the defender of truth and the keeper of secrets.
It is a trickster. It represents shape shifting and magic. I wonder
if the bird has some meaning. Maybe it’s a sign.”

Moon barked once.

“You think the raven came here for me? Should
we follow the raven west?”

Moon barked in agreement.

Devon smiled, excited about the idea. “We can
go to the lodge. That’s west from here and I wouldn’t mind skiing
and getting cozy by the fire with my boys Jack and Johnnie.”

Moon got up when Devon mentioned whiskey.

“Don’t be a fuddy-duddy. A little drink here
and there can’t kill me. I just need to avoid vodka, I think.”

Moon barked once and stomped her foot in
agreement.

“I want to visit the Four Corners monument. I
will never forget the tepee shaped store off the last exit before
the cabin. I told you about that place, remember? That’s where you
were born. That’s where they got you.” She smiled at the memory of
Jameson with the wolf-puppies and the sexy eyes. “I have always
dreamed about going back there and finding her.”

Devon touched the indentation at the base of
her neck, feeling for the arrowhead. If it had been up to her, she
would have never taken it off. She battled Claire and lost, as
usual, when Claire insisted she take it off for her debutante
party. The feel of it around her neck lingered, long after she
removed it. She felt it there now, the chill of the amethyst as it
grew warm against her throat, the etched serrations, and the
pointed tip.

She sighed remembering how intense Jameson
was, how profound and intellectual for a young girl. How sensual
was her touch.

“So intimate,” she whispered. “I wonder if
the store is still there.”

Moon barked once.

“You’re psychic now?”

Moon bounded onto Devon’s bed. She grabbed
the pillows in her teeth and, one by one, flung them at Devon.

“Okay, we’ll go. Let’s follow the bird of
magic and secrets and look for the tepee shaped store and the girl
with the cat-eyes.”

Moon followed Devon into the bathroom and
watched as she collected and packed. Devon fished the arrowhead
from the recesses of her jewelry box. She held it up and smiled as
it winked under the fluorescent lights. The jags and ridges were
familiar though she had not held it in almost fifteen years. She
felt empowered by it, amazed by the heat emanating from it. She
grinned and shoved it into her jeans pocket.

Devon yanked off her wedding ring. “This has
been a long time coming,” Devon said as she stood over the toilet.
“There couldn’t be a more perfect place for it.” She dropped it
into the toilet bowl. She took off the diamond choker from the
previous night and started to do the same with it.

“No need to let good jewelry go to waste.”
She took off Moon’s collar and tags and replaced it with the
elaborate choker. “That looks fabulous on you. Now let’s get the
hell out of Dodge.”

* * * *

Devon and Moon headed west as the sun came
down. It was a Sunday and the Interstate was theirs. The windows
and sunroof where open but Devon was oblivious to the bitter wind
on her face. Moon was made for winter weather and would have
enjoyed the ride if Devon felt better. Only when Moon placed her
front paws on Devon’s arm stared at her with troubled eyes, did
Devon realize she’d been crying aloud. The sight of Moon’s
sympathetic gaze set Devon crying even harder and she even pulled
off the road a time or two.

It was a lousy way to start the winter, the
time of year her family ever spent any time together. Now here she
was more alone than ever, while the integral people in her life
were gone. Trevor found the balls to tear him from his mother’s
apron. Her mother and Claire vanished, weary from hiding their
secret life.

Without even realizing it, she ended up
parked in front of her parent’s estate. She let herself in with her
key and stood in the massive foyer. Memories of her life were a
blur and this place, too, seemed foreign. She reached into her
pocket, comforted by the arrowhead.