The Girl On the Moon [#Watty2015]

Chapter 17: Rowan Lost

Bluffing was something I am quite adept at–it is a natural skill–so when Marsha arrives, red faced and frustrated, I know I can easily talk my way out of it.. However, I don't count on Sammy stuttering and tripping over his words besides me as he tries to fabricate a believable story. After forcing out yet another flimsy excuse, he opens his mouth to correct himself. Over my shoulder, I shoot him a glare which he guiltily receives. Sorry, he mouths slightly.

With a sigh, I step up to Marsha. "Sammy didn't want you know, because he wasn't sure how I'd feel about it–" I begin, the rest already forming perfectly in my mind. "But I think Father–the Man on the Moon, I mean–" I have to choke out his name to continue, "Didn't die of something natural. I assumed if something happened, he would have kept notes on it. I knew where he kept his old journal, so I went to get it, then returned to the lab. I figured if it was something sciencey, there might be a mention of it here."

Marsha nods slowly, and then a smile twitches at the corner of her mouth. "Sammy, I must insist on you coming to dinner with us. And Rowan, us includes you, since you now seem perfectly capable of walking around." I can see a sparkle in her eyes as she walks out the door, beckoning for us to follow.

"I thought you said we weren't telling her," Sammy whispers to me, his voice low and careful.

"Well, not the entire thing, obviously. This way, it all works out." I try not to smile smugly as I walk behind Marsha–the only thing keeping me from a confident stride is the voice still whispering at the back of my mind. You've doomed her, Rowan. She's going to die because of you. 

***

We all sit at Marsha's dinner table, Marsha setting plates in front of us. While I attempt to ignore the food in front of me, Sammy begins devouring it in fluid bites. Marsha sits down between me and the empty chair on the fourth edge.

"So, Samuel, how's your school work going?" Marsha asks politely, sending a warm smile his way and setting a napkin in her lap. I follow her example, even though Father never did that. "Do you plan on joining me in the lab someday?"

"Oh, it's going pretty well," he replies after he finishes chewing. "I don't know about the lab, though. Unlike my parents, I'm more into writing. It's really fun, actually."

"How wonderful!" Marsha says with a grin. "Writing is a fine profession! What genres do you prefer?"

Sammy ducks his head, cheeks flushing. "Uh. . ." he mumbles something I can barely make out. When I puzzle out what he says, I choke back a laugh.

"What's that, dear?" Marsha asks, and I can't contain my snickers. Sammy shoots me a glare, his face a bright red. My laughter grows, but Marsha just furrows her brow and looks from Sammy to me. "What is it?"

"Well, I speak fluent mumble, and he just said 'Comedic Horror'!" My laughing resumes, sounding more the cackles by the second. He just buries his face in his hands.

"Oh, wonderful," Marsha's tone is slightly awkward, but she continues the conversation in spite of it. "What about you, Rowan? It's so nice to see you walking around and eating!" She states the last phrase pointedly, so I stuff a spoonful of macaroni in my mouth and chew. "What have you been doing?"

Once I swallow, my eyes dart around the room, taking in the bowl of macaroni in front of me. "uh, macaroni!" I blurt. I can tell Sammy resists a snicker, but he corrects me anyway.

"She means, she's been making macaroni necklaces. . .for the diseased–I mean perfectly healthy–children. . .so, yeah?" I resist the urge to roll my eyes–he has obviously not mastered the lie of fixing a fabrication.

Marsha bites her lip and glances at me suspiciously. "Uh, okay?"

"Yeah. . ."

The silence quickly becomes awkward, so Sammy clears his throat and begins to talk. "So, I heard a cool story at school today? Wanna hear?" Neither of us speak and he averts his eyes, but continues. "Okay then. A man who lived alone came home from work one day to find what looks like a thick light post without a light in his driveway. He ignored it, figuring it was a delivery made to the wrong place. His house seemed normal. Then, as it grew dark, he heard strange creaking sounds. He went upstairs to investigate and found his bathroom on fire! He quickly doused the flames and looked for their source. He found none and was puzzled. The next two rooms were also burning and the creaking was louder. Suddenly, he found himself face to face with a giant dragon, which was holding his burning bed. 'Pardon me,' said the dragon, 'but have you seen my flashlight?'"

He chuckles some, but I'm not in the mood to laugh, so I force a smile. Marsha seems to smile genuinely, but she doesn't say anything. We remain in silence, and I wonder if Marsha suspects. I really, really hope she doesn't-I don't want her to hate me. It was only luck that Sammy took the news so well. Or at least, he seems to be taking it well, shoveling the last of his macaroni into his mouth. Once he finishes, he wipes his mouth with his napkin. I'm still only about halfway through my bowl.

"I think I'll head out now–thank you for dinner, Marsha. My Mom'll be wondering what's taking so long. . ." He stands up, pushing his chair in and turning to the door

"Yeah, and I still need to get my room together..."

"Nonsense! You must stay for dessert!" Marsha chastises, and Sammy freezes in mid-step. I can see his shoulders slump in defeated annoyance, and I assume he's groaning internally as well. Slowly, he edges his way to face us.

"Rowan, be a dear and get the key lime pie I've prepared. It should be on the counter," Grumbling, I head into the kitchen. As the door swings shut behind me though, I catch a bit of hushed conversation.

"Okay Samuel, I know you would tell me if something's up, so be honest with me: What's going on? We both know Rowan's hiding something, but what?" Oh, snap he's gonna tell her he's gonna tell her he's gonna-

"You're right." Oh, snap, oh snep, oh snip. "You see, she kinda held her own funeral in secret for the Man on the Moon, and she didn't want anyone to know." Hmm, perhaps he's a better liar than I thought.

"Oh, that poor girl, okay. But if anything bad happens, you report to me young man, alright?" I can hear the solemn note in her voice as she talks.

"Yes ma'am."

"PIE IS HERE, NEVER FEAR! Wait, I think I messed that up, let me try ag-"

"It's fine Rowan, let's just eat."

1. Did you know sciency is a real word?

2. What's your favorite type of pie?

3. Fake fact: A single sheep is a shep. Synonyms include lonely puffle, singular cloud, a baa baa here but no baa baa there, and where did all my other sheep go