Blue

The Red Moon

"They died on the full moon," he said, and then, because he was horrible, he tossed in the kicker, "Just like Blue."

She didn't freeze this time. In fact, she didn't react at all.

"Darling, I have to protect the house."

"You have nothing to say about their suspicious full moon death? About Blue's full moon death?" he asked. He was starting to get angry now, though he couldn't tell whether it was at her or not. Her face was away from him, turned out towards the shiny black tarp covering the windows. She placed a piece of tape on the edge of the tarp, where it was bulging out slightly and allowing a miniscule sliver of the moonlight to shine on the table. Her hands shook slightly, sending tiny ripples across the tarp.

"You don't know anything, right? You never know anything. You put up the rocks and the spices and you spread the smoke and you cover the windows. You won't let me leave. But you don't know anything about anything. Nothing about the full moon or my parents or Blue. You can't even call me the right name. I'm Adam, you know. Not Finn. Adam. Finn is dead. Your son is dead. And you know nothing about that, right?" He wanted to turn and flee from this house the way he had done when he was four and when things were somehow simpler than they were right now.

"I don't know anything, Adam. I..." She turned to him, her face twisted slightly. She was clearly putting quite a lot of effort into holding back everything. Because he knew that she knew it all and she knew that he needed to hear whatever she was holding so close to her heart. Why his parents had died and how. Why Blue had died. She knew and she wouldn't tell him. Her eyes were shining, glistening as if pieces of the moonlight she was desperately blocking out of her home had caught in her eyes. They held eye contact for just a moment. For just a moment, she was going to tell him all that she knew. She was going to cry with him, tell him why the world had done this to him, and help him figure out where to go next. For a moment, they were equals. And then, her expression closed off, and they were strangers amongst each other again and he was sent off to drift in this sea that life had created for him in a boat without paddles.

"I don't know anything more than what is in the police reports. The boat ran into bad weather, they crashed, and they were gone. There's nothing more to say. Blue drowned. There's nothing more to say. This full moon superstition is just a superstition held by silly old women and a town with more misfortune than other places. There is no magic answer to loss, Adam. It just happens."

"Yeah. Of course not. Of course there isn't a magic answer, or any real answer at all. There never is. We just work our stupid jobs and put up our stupid garlands and block the light of the moon like everyone else. We bury empty coffins. Mark their empty graves with the same regular, normal symbols. Of course. Do you ever get tired of lying? Do you ever wonder what would happen if you just told me the truth? I'm not six anymore. I'm not-you know what? Never mind. I'm going to bed."

"Adam-"

"I'm tired, Grandmother." He ducked under a garland of sea glass and herbs his Grandmother had hung up by the stairs and headed to his room. His feelings were all over the place. Why was the town so afraid of this stupid full moon? All these deaths, this abnormally high rate of accidental ocean deaths, brushed away. Why was everyone so unbothered by this? He was starting to feel crazy. It wasn't right. It wasn't normal, no matter what his Grandmother said. Something had to be going on here. How was he the only one who seemed to care about the dead? About Blue? He wondered briefly if the town was secretly full of werewolves and then felt the need to smack himself. Werewolves. They didn't exist. It was probably some unhinged serial killer or something, some ancient town secret. Or worse, it was absolutely nothing, and the sea was just rougher here and the people were just weird. He slammed his door extra loud so that his Grandmother could hear how passive aggressively angry he was at her.