Moonbog (12 page)

“All he has to do is sit there, Mom. I’ll do the driving,” their oldest boy, Robbie, pleaded. “I’ve got my learner’s permit, all you have to do is be there in the car. Please? Dad?”

Leah looked over her shoulder at Les and said coldly, “Les, hon’, what with everything that’s been happening in town, I just don’t want any of the boys out of my sight, and I don’t want Sammy walking over to Jeffy’s house alone!”

“It’s just up the road, for Christ’s sake,” Les snarled. He walked over to the refrigerator and took out a can of beer, snapping it open angrily. He took a deep swallow and repeated himself. “It’s just up the fuckin’ road.”

“Don’t talk like that in front of the children,” Leah scolded. Les snorted, then took another gulp of beer.

“I’d be all right, Mom,” Sammy said. He had been sitting silently at the table, listening to the argument, knowing that his parents would have to work it out and that nothing he said would have any weight.

“It’s fucking daylight, sweetheart,” Les said, pointing toward the window with his can of beer. Leah’s eyes wandered over to the warm square of light that fell onto the counter beside the sink.

“I
know
that. But he’s staying for supper, and I don’t want him coming home in the dark.”

“So? I’ll go over and pick him up tonight,” Les said.

“And
I’ll
drive,” Robbie piped in.

“Will you be
quiet?
” Les said, turning toward Robbie, who took a nervous step backwards. He could tell when his father meant business; he meant business now.

Leah took the plate from the dirty water and rinsed it under the faucet. After she placed it in the drying rack, she turned to face her husband. “Will you please take him over, too?” she asked, her voice almost breaking with anxiety. “I just don’t want to have to worry.”

“You don’t have to. It’s only after dark that they’re not safe.” There was a hollow note in Les’ voice that gave Leah pause.

“How . . . how do you know?” She wiped her damp hands on her jeans and stepped closer to Les. “How does anyone know who’s safe when? No one knows when Billy . . . Billy Wilson disappeared.”

Robbie leaned against the kitchen counter and looked up at the ceiling with exasperation. “I can’t wait ‘til I get my
license
,” he said, sure that nobody heard him.

“I’m
telling
you, that’s how
I
know! He’s safe walking the short way up to Jeffy’s house!” He slammed the beer can onto the counter top. Robbie jumped. Some beer sloshed out of the can and fell onto the floor with a dull plop. Muggins, their dog, roused himself from his nap in the living room and padded in to lap up the unexpected treat.

“Dad, it’s no sweat.
Really
. All you have to do is sit there. I’ll do the driving,” Robbie said again.

“At this rate, I’ll miss supper,” Sammy said softly.

“Yes. Yes!
Yes!
” Leah said finally. “Go get the car keys from my bureau.” Robbie took the stairs three at a time.

“Jesus
Christ
, Leah!”

Leah turned back to her dishes, her ears burning. She could feel Les’ angry stare on her back. “I really think it’s the best thing, hon’,” she said mildly. “There’s some kind of maniac running around, I think it’s best to play safe. We can’t be
too
careful.”

Les snorted and then downed the rest of his beer. He was staring at the sunlit window, his eyes glazed over with a vacant, hazy look. Leah thought that he must be really mad at her, but she felt better, knowing Sammy would have a ride both ways.

“I’m telling you, he’d be safe,” Les said again. His voice was distant.

“You’re probably right, hon’, but why take chances?”

Robbie burst back into the kitchen, the keys held high above his head as though they were a trophy. “Let’s go,” he shouted. “I’ll back the car out.” He slammed the door shut behind him.

Sammy got up from the table and walked over to his mother. Looking up at her, he gave her a hug around the waist. “Thanks, Mom.”

Leah smiled. “You’re welcome. You just remember what I told you.”

“I know.” Sammy shifted his feet nervously, sensing another lecture coming on.

“And I don’t mean just about this person who . . . who hurt Billy Wilson,” Leah continued. “I mean about
any
stranger. Any stranger at all.”

“I know, Mom.” Sammy started backing toward the door. “You told me a hundred times.”

“And I’m telling you again. Don’t talk to strangers. Don’t take rides with strangers. Especially that! If you need a ride, go to someone’s house and call home. We’ll come pick you up.”

“Uh-huh.” Sammy was at the door, but he knew that he couldn’t leave yet.

“Besides,” Leah added with a soft smile, “Robbie’ll be getting his license soon and he’ll be begging for an excuse to drive.” They heard the car start up and, taking his signal, Sammy ran outside.

Les, still standing there looking sullen, mumbled softly, “He don’t have to worry.” He cocked his head to the side. “He don’t have to worry unless he goes out by Old Man Logan’s way.”

“Les, you shouldn’t talk like that about Mr. Logan.”

Les shrugged. “Just speaking my mind. You’re so hepped up about Sammy not walking out on the goddamn street at high noon. I’m just saying that I think he just has to steer clear of Old Man Logan.”

“Mr. Logan’s a nice old man, just a bit . . . a bit lonely, that’s all. There’s no harm in him.”

“Maybe he’s
too
lonely,” Les said darkly. “Maybe he’s so lonely he likes to play with little boys—before he kills ‘em.”

“Les!”

“How come he ain’t never married, then?” Les asked. “Huh? Maybe he, you know, never liked girls.”

Leah decided that to respond would continue the direction of the conversation, so she turned back to her sink and began drying the dishes and placing them in the cupboard. After several seconds of nervous silence, Leah said, “You know, speaking of Mr. Logan, did you know that David was back in town?”

“Yeah,” Les answered. “A couple of the guys at the Sawmill were talking about him yesterday.”

“Are you planning on looking him up?” Leah asked, brightening.

“I dunno’. Maybe.”

“My goodness. You don’t sound very excited about seeing your best friend from high school.”

“That was a long time ago,” Les replied.

“But you were so close. I’d have thought you’d be anxious to see him after all these years. I bet it’d be fun to talk about old times. He’s staying out at the Pine Haven Motel. Why not give him a call?”

“Maybe.”

The sudden squeal of tires made them both look anxiously out the door as Robbie backed the car out of the garage at a more than adequate speed. The car jolted to a stop in the turn-around, then turned and pointed toward the street. The engine roared.

“What’ve we got there, another A.J. Foyt?”

“He’s just learning. Go easy on him,” Leah said mildly. Then, picking up their conversation, she said, “So why don’t you invite David over for supper some night. I’d like to see him again. And I’ve never met his wife.”

“That ain’t his wife,” Les said absently, as he walked over to the door and, leaning against the jamb, stared out at the car and its impatient driver. Robbie waved anxiously for his father to hurry.

“Not his wife?” Leah echoed.

“That’s what I said. It’s his girlfriend. Some hot-pants model from New York or something. A real hot number, by the looks of her.”

“And just how do you know the looks of her?” Leah asked sharply. She looked at Les nervously, but he kept his back to her.

“Just talk. Just talk at the Sawmill, that’s all,” he mumbled.

Leah took a dishtowel and, wiping her hands, walked over to Les. “But you didn’t answer my question, hon’. Why don’t you invite David and his girlfriend over for supper? Tuesday night would be OK. Any night this week, except Wednesday. I have to go over to Gloria’s on Wednesday.”

His face twisted with anger, Les spun around and faced Leah. “Because I could just about give two shits for David Logan, that’s why!” he shouted. Leah pulled back timidly. “If we was friends, that was a long time ago, and David Logan can go fuck, himself for all I care.” He pulled the door open violently. “I’ll be back,” he called over his shoulder as he left.

V

L
eah stood in the doorway, watching the car pull away. She noticed that Robbie seemed to drive pretty well, although he was going a little bit too fast, she thought, when he got to the stop sign at the end of the road. She watched sadly, registering the fact that her oldest son was
really
growing up—he’d have his driving license soon.

A long, drawn-out sniffing sound made her turn around. Sitting cross-legged on the floor, his chin propped in his hands, was Georgie.

“How come they didn’t take me?” the five-year-old asked sadly. His eyes were watering up.

Leah scooched down and ruffled her son’s hair. “They’re just going down the street for a bit.”

“But I wanted to go,” Georgie said, letting a tear run down his cheek.

“There, there,” Leah cooed. “Tell you what. What say you and I split a popsicle?”

Georgie’s eyes brightened. Leah stood up and opened the freezer door. Pausing with her hand in the ice box, she asked, “Grape or orange?”

“Grape,” Georgie answered without hesitation. Then he added, “But why couldn’t I go?”

“Well. . . .” Leah began to peel the paper from the popsicle. “Robbie’s still learning how to drive. Your father’s going to teach him.” She broke the popsicle in half and handed one piece to Georgie. “Besides, I want you here with me. Be careful with that. Don’t get it on your shirt.”

“Is it because of that
bad
man?” Georgie asked as his tongue flicked out and lapped his popsicle.

Leah had to force her voice to keep steady. “Partly that, yes.”

Georgie nodded his head as though he understood fully. “But I haven’t been bad,” he said softly. “I know you haven’t.”

“Well, Billy Wilson must’ve been bad. That’s why the boogeyman got him, right Mom?” Georgie was licking his popsicle absentmindedly. His lips were stained bright purple.

“I don’t know, honey. I mean. . . .” Leah’s voice trailed away.

“But that’s what you told me,” Georgie insisted. “You said that if I wasn’t good, like if I didn’t come home from playing before dark or when you called or something, that the boogeyman would get me. Take me away.” Georgie’s eyes widened as he looked up at his mother. “And he’d eat me or something. Is that what happened to Billy Wilson? The boogeyman caught him and ate him? Is that it, Mom?”

Leah reached down and patted her son’s head. “Well. . . .”

“That’s what you said, Mom.”

“I know, I know that’s what I said. But Georgie, what I told you, you know, about the boogeyman, well, maybe what I said wasn’t exactly right.”

“You mean you
lied
to me?” Georgie asked, astonished. His eyes widened even further as he considered the possibility.

Leah forced a smile and continued haltingly. “No, hon’, I . . . I didn’t
lie
to you. It’s just that . . . that. . . .” She huffed with exasperation and, once again, thanked whoever made little children so precocious. She cleared her throat and tried to continue more firmly. “What happened to Billy Wilson was, well, it was a real person who did it. Someone who lives right in town or nearby.” She swallowed hard. “What I told you about the boogeyman was sort of made up. The boogeyman’s, well, he’s kinda’ like Santa Claus.”

Georgie’s face scrinched up. “You mean he lives at the North Pole?” he asked, his voice rising until it broke.

Leah couldn’t help but laugh. “No. Not that, hon’.” She ruffled his hair. “The boogeyman is sort of like a spirit . . . not a
real
person.” The look of confusion that spread across her son’s face told her that she was just confusing him.

Suddenly, though, his face brightened. “Ohh. You mean, like, the boogeyman is like a ghost or something. Something to scare people with, is that it?”

“Yes. That’s it,” Leah said, grateful that she had gotten herself off the hook.

“And Billy Wilson didn’t get caught by the boogeyman, right? He was hurt by a mean
real
person, right?”

“That’s right,” Leah said as she stood up. She was surprised when she saw that her popsicle had melted; her hand was covered with a sticky, purple mass, and she hadn’t even noticed it. Nervously, she licked at what remained on the stick, then washed her hands clean.

“Go upstairs and get your baseball. We’ll go outside and play a little catch,” Leah said, as she dried her hands on the dishtowel.

Georgie turned to go, but just at the doorway, he paused and looked back at her. His eyes were still wistful looking. “I still wish Dad had taken me with him,” he said before going.

Leah smiled and listened to the slap-slap of his sneakers as he ran upstairs to his room. She turned and looked out the window, letting her breath out with a long, shuddering sigh. She was suddenly, painfully aware that the stories she had told Georgie to frighten him into obedience were suddenly turning on her and frightening her. Their town really
did
have a boogeyman.