Bad Moon Rising (Pine Deep 3)

“No way, José. Now…just to put me at ease…you’re going to take care of everything, right? You won’t leave anything that’ll tie me to this?”

“Yeah, I’ll handle everything. ” Vic fished a cigarillo from his shirt pocket. “Got a light?”

“Sorry, don’t smoke. ”

“No problem,” Vic said, and kicked him in the groin. Trent’s eyes goggled with surprise and sudden agony; he made a strangled squeak and dropped to his knees. Vic kicked him in the face and then stood over him and stomped him nearly to death. He smiled all the time.

A figure stepped out from the far side of the truck. The embroidered patch on his shirt said Shanahan. “Jeez, Vic…he screw you over or something?”

Vic turned. He was breathing heavy. “Nah…just working out some frustrations. ” He nodded at what was left of Trent. “You hungry?”

Shanahan smiled a toothy smile. “Sure,” he said, “I could eat. ”

“Help yourself. I got to head home. ”

3

Mike stopped home between school and his shift at the Crow’s Nest to get a sweater. The afternoon had gone suddenly cold and his light windbreaker was nowhere near warm enough. He leaned his bike against the steps, climbed onto the porch, and had just turned the handle when he heard Vic yelling. Mike froze in an attitude of listening, head cocked to one side.

“You’re such a pain in the ass, Lois, I swear to God! All you do anymore is bitch about how hungry you are, but you won’t frigging eat anything we bring you. ”

We? Mike thought.

He heard his mother reply, but her words were too faint to make out.

“Well, I don’t care…and I’m not going to go get you something from Trinian’s. You think I’m the goddamn maid?”

Trinian’s was the butcher shop in town. Mike thought it was weird that mom was asking Vic to go shopping. Vic never did anything like that. He didn’t even buy his own beer. Besides…Mike had been rooting in the fridge earlier and there was plenty of food, including pork chops and ground turkey. Why was she making a fuss about something from Trinian’s?

“Well, you can starve for all I care. ” There was a crashing sound and Mike had the feeling Vic had hurled something against the wall. He was a big one for throwing shit. “I’ll be downstairs. You know what you need to do, you silly bitch. When you come to your senses and want to feed, then send me a frigging postcard…otherwise you can kiss my white ass. ”

There was the sound of fast, stomping footsteps and then the distinctive heavy slam of the cellar door. Mike gave it a few seconds and then pushed the door open and stepped quietly into the foyer.

Going into the living room was a major sin against Vic’s house rules, but this was driving him nuts. Every night all his mom did was sit in the living room. No lights, no TV. She seldom answered when he called to her, and sometimes she said nothing at all. It was weird and it scared Mike.

He lingered uncertainly in the doorway.

“Mom? Are you all right? Are you sick?”

No answer. He took a deep breath as he stepped into the living room, standing behind the couch, not ten feet from her. The fear of Vic’s wrath was a stink in the air. “How come you always sit in the dark like this?” When she didn’t answer he said, “Look, let me turn on the light…”

He heard her gasp. “No, Mike…please don’t…”

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“Come on, Mom, you’re freaking me out here. ”

She turned away from him just like she did the other day, clearly not wanting him to see her face, and Mike wondered just how badly had Vic beaten her that she hid her face for over a week?

“Mom…listen to me…if you’re sick or hurt we need to get you to a doctor. ”

“Mike, if you love me, then please just leave me alone. Go to your room, go to Crow’s store…just leave me alone. ”

Mike stood there, uncertain. “I heard you tell Vic that you were hungry. You should eat something. ”

He saw her body cave over as if his words had hit her like a punch in the stomach.

“Why don’t I go get some Chinese? I’ll get the lemon chicken you like…”