The Eclipse of Moonbeam Dawson (2 page)

Harvey grabbed the handle of the back door of the RV. “Got my cables in here, if I can find them in this mess.” He grinned and climbed in the RV. “Say, want a cuppa tea? You both look soaked.”

“Sounds good.” Abby smiled sweetly. “What do you think, Moonbeam?”

“We don't have time. After we get the jump, the battery's got to get charged and it'll take a couple of hours.” Moonbeam picked up a stone and threw it in frustration, wishing he didn't always have to be the one to figure everything out.

“Think we should go back to Port Alberni?”

“Of course.” He pulled the hood of his parka down lower over his forehead. “We can camp at China Creek and get the ferry.
First thing
tomorrow.”

“We'll be up at the crack of dawn,” Abby said earnestly.

“Yeah, right.” Moonbeam lifted the hood of the truck and Harvey attached the cables to their battery. “Get in so you can try it, Mum.”

The engine turned over on the third try and Moonbeam took the cables off and handed them to Harvey. “Thanks a lot.”

Abby rolled down the window. “I can't tell you how much I appreciate this.” She looked up at him, her gray-green eyes sparkling and her voice low and sweet.

“I'll follow you to Port, just in case you have any more problems.” He leaned close to the window.

“I'm sure we'll be fine.” Moonbeam buckled his seat belt.

“That's really nice of you!” Abby smiled, surprised. “Are you sure?”

“No problem. There's the McDonald's next to the station. I'm about ready for a bite anyway.”

Maybe he's a vampire. Moonbeam scowled, folded his arms over his chest, and slumped in the seat.

“See you soon!” Abby waved and backed out of the lot, then waited to get on the highway until Harvey pulled up behind her. “This is so nice of him,” she said, looking back in the rearview mirror, her voice gushing with gratitude.

“A lot of people would help out, Mum.”

Okay, so he wasn't a serial killer, but we're not talking some kind of hero here. Moonbeam sighed as she pulled out on the highway. Here they were, going backwards! But as he thought about it, he realized they'd only be delayed a day. Knowing the way she went about things, it could have been a lot worse, he decided. A lot worse.

He hadn't hated their life on Heather Mountain. It was better than the crummy apartment they had in Victoria, where people banged on the cheesy walls and you could hear people yelling and TVs blaring. But more and more life in the great outdoors was too small for him. Just like their cabin. She thought it was fine for the two of them, but a couple of years ago Moonbeam felt cramped. He wanted more privacy. (There had one been too many “
Oops!
Sorry, Moonbeam!”s as she barged in on him.) So he and his friend Meadow MacLaine, who was a good carpenter, built a separate space behind the stove. There was no way it could ever be called a room of his own; the space was tiny, more like a berth on a train. But it had the essential architectural feature: a wall between him and his mother.

The other thing that was too small was the group of people. There weren't enough kids and a lot of them were younger. There weren't enough girls, to be specific. The Happy Children of the Good Earth commune had a drastic shortage of girls his age. The only one even close to his age was Starlight Lewis, and it was embarrassing to call twelve close. So this past year Moonbeam and Meadow, who felt the same way, took every chance they got to go into Port Alberni, a town of 20,000, the nearest place of any size. Usually almost every week someone from the commune had to go in for something. Getting teeth fixed, tires patched, and truck parts seemed to be the more common reasons. Moonbeam and Meadow would hang around the video store or McDonald's, or go to the cafe where they had a TV over the lunch counter and watch whatever was on. Didn't matter what. Although the main reason they left Heather Mountain every chance they had wasn't to look at TV. It was to see girls.

*   *   *

Abby pulled into the station at the corner of Redford Road and the Port Alberni Highway, and Harvey drove up next to her.

“I'll meet you at McDonald's.” He pointed across the road.

Abby rolled down the window. “I can't thank you enough,” she gushed. “We'll be there in a few minutes.” She waved as he pulled out of the station.

The gas station guy had them pull the truck into the garage and told them to come back in about an hour.

“This is working out great. It should be ready just about the time we're through eating.” Abby smiled as they walked over to McDonald's.

Harvey was sitting at a table by the back windows. Abby waved to him, then read the menu over the counter. While she was looking up, Moonbeam was looking around, scanning the place the way he always did when he came here from Heather Mountain. He had gotten very good at knowing where girls hung out, and this McDonald's was one of the prime locations. Moonbeam spotted a table of girls about his age. Good, at least there'd be some decent scenery. Fine looking girls. No, he definitely would not mind living in Port Alberni, he thought as his eyes darted over the girls. Although he didn't dwell on the idea for more than a split second, because there'd never really be a chance of him living here. His mother. She'd hate it. She always complained about the stench of the paper mill and the big black cloud that would billow from its smokestack.

Abby got a large salad, soup, a roll, and coffee.

“I'll have a Big Mac.” Moonbeam put in his order, bracing himself.

“Meat!” His mother hissed through clenched teeth.

“It's
my
stomach.” He hissed back at her. He'd been eating meat whenever he left Heather Mountain. It was about time she knew.

“I can't believe you ordered that.” Abby glared at his tray. “What about the cow's stomach?”

“So, what about the fish's stomach? You eat fish sometimes.” Moonbeam looked at the girls out of the corner of his eye as they passed their table.

“We'll talk about this later,” she said in a low voice as they got to Harvey's table. Then she smiled at the guy and slid into the seat across from him. “Thanks again for your help. Things are sure looking better,” she said, taking her salad off her tray. “The rain's even let up.”

Moonbeam sat next to Harvey where he had the best view of the table of girls.

“Glad I came by. Where you heading?”

“Maybe the Gulf Islands,” Abby told him.

“Definitely the Gulf Islands.” Moonbeam took a big bite of the hamburger. Abby clenched her teeth and wouldn't look at him. “The only thing we're not sure about is which one.”

“You from around here?” Harvey sipped his coffee.

“We lived on Heather Mountain for the last five years.” She took a bite of her salad. “Before that, Victoria for a while, before that, Heather Mountain.”

“Heather Mountain? Not much up there.”

“It was a commune.”

“Didn't work out, eh?”

“They took a vow of nonviolence and said the place was a nuclear free zone,” Moonbeam explained. “But then there was this big fight and some people started bashing each other with shovels.”

“The land was owned by a man who inherited it from his father. He told everyone to clear out.” Abby looked sad. “The first time we lived off the land like that, the weather got us. The crops froze and we couldn't make it. But I never thought it would end because the people couldn't get along.” Abby stared out the window for a moment, lost in thought.

Moonbeam gazed at the girls, wondering what it would be like to go to school with a bunch of them like that.

Abby sighed, then looked at Harvey. “What about you? Where you from?”

Moonbeam chewed slowly, trying to enjoy each bite. Meat tasted better when his mother wasn't sitting right there clenching her teeth. Then he looked over at the girls again. The one with the curly brown hair was really fine.

“Toronto originally. But I got sick of the rat race. Been in Tofino the past two years.”

Abby nodded. “I don't think I could go back to a city. I'm from Seattle originally.”

Weird. She hardly ever tells anybody she's from the states. Moonbeam looked at the girls. The one at the end with the blue sweatshirt was really something.

“Yankee, eh?”

“I just claim Canadian now. You used to be able to have dual citizenship even if you weren't born in Canada, if one parent was Canadian. My father's American, my mother was from Vancouver.”

“Been up here long?”

“Since college.”

What is he, a reporter or something? What a nosy guy. Moonbeam sipped his Coke. The one in the middle in the tight sweater wasn't bad either.

“What do you do in Tofino?” she asked.

“I'm with the Clayoquot Biosphere Project.”

“Part of Friends of Clayoquot Sound?” Abby broke off a little piece of the roll and popped it in her mouth. “We were there in ninety-three for the protests.”

“The biosphere project's strictly scientific. But I was in the protests in ninety-three. Most everyone in town was.”

Abby smiled at him. “Maybe we already met, but didn't remember.”

“No.” He smiled, leaning across the table. “I wouldn't have forgotten if I met you.”

Abby laughed, flattered.

“I was there, too.” Moonbeam piped up, then took another big bite, chewing noisily. “Only they didn't arrest me, just Mum.”

“Actually, I was considering heading to the coast to Tofino, but I thought we'd have a better chance of finding work in the Gulf Islands. I want to work outdoors, but we'll take whatever we can get.”

“There's a new lodge opening on Stere Island.”

“Where's that?” Abby seemed interested.

“We're going to the Gulf Islands, Mum,” Moonbeam reminded her.

“It's west of Tofino. The land's being leased from the Clayoquot band. It's part of the Nuu-chah-nulth efforts to develop economically. I think indigenous people get priority in hiring, but the jobs are open to non Native people, too.”

“Moonbeam might get priority. He's half Haida.”

Fine. Just tell him our whole life story why don't you? And NOT ONE WORD about my name, buddy.
Moonbeam looked over at the girls. The first thing he was going to do when they got to the gulf islands was change his name. He'd been thinking about it for a long time and now that they were leaving Heather Mountain it was the perfect time to do it. He'd have some good regular name, so when he met girls his age at least he wouldn't have that to worry about.

“It's a really posh place,” Harvey continued. “Caters to rich tourists. I'm pretty sure they're hiring now.” He took a last sip of his coffee. “Well, got to get on my way.”

Harvey stood up and hesitated by the table. “Look me up if you ever get to Tofino. I'm the only Harvey Hattenbach.”

“Thanks. And thanks again for everything.” Abby smiled, then glared at Moonbeam, kicking him under the table.

“Yeah, thanks,” Moonbeam muttered.

“And if you want to check out that new lodge, let me know. The manager's a friend of mine.”

“Great. Thanks.” Abby looked up at him, smiling gratefully. “I can't tell you how much I appreciate this, Harvey,” she said softly.

Oh yuk, gag. Just leave, buddy.

Abby watched him as he walked across the restaurant and out the door. She grinned and gave a thumbs-up to Harvey as he waved to them from the parking lot.

“Guess we better go, too, eh?” Abby sighed, then crunched up her napkin and put it on her tray. “Ready?”

“I've been ready for the past fifteen minutes. You're the one that kept talking to that guy.”

“He was very nice.”

“The sun's going down. It's going to be a hassle getting the tent up.”

“We've put it up before in the dark.”

“Yeah. And it's a hassle.”

Moonbeam stood up and glanced at the group of girls. He wished he could get up the nerve to smile at one of them as they walked by their table. But instead he just looked at the floor. This is going to change, he told himself. When they got to the Gulf Islands, he wouldn't have to look at the floor. He'd have his new name and he'd get a lot of practice talking to girls. It would be great.

At the gas station, Abby and Moonbeam got the truck and it started without a hitch. As they headed out on the Alberni Highway, Moonbeam began to think seriously about what he wanted his new name to be. He wanted something regular, maybe like Bob, Bill, John, Tom, Jim, or Tim. He'd have to try out each one. Maybe write them down and pick the best.

Abby started to hum. Whenever they drove any distance, she either sang or hummed the same melody. It was “Peace Train,” a tune which she considered her exclusive road trip theme song. Usually after about five miles of “Peace Train” Moonbeam was ready to throw himself screaming from the truck and hitchhike. He liked to imagine the wonderful people who would pick him up. People who didn't sing “Peace Train.” People with beautiful daughters his age.

The sun was setting by the time they reached China Creek Park. Moonbeam carried the tent to a campsite. “If we'd gotten an early start and the battery checked, we'd be on the ferry now,” he grumbled.

“Not necessarily.” Abby helped him lay out the tent. “If the battery died on the back road out of Heather Mountain we might have still been there.”

“Maybe.” He was too tired to argue. She always had an answer for everything. Whatever his mother did, even if it turned out to be totally dumb, she always had some reason why it was okay. Not an excuse, but a reason.

Moonbeam pounded in the last stake, then got their sleeping bags out of the truck.

“I'm glad this park's got a shower. I'll wash this mess in the morning.” Abby pulled off the woven scrunchy that held back her hair and ran her hands through the long, brownish-blond strands. “Too tired tonight.” She turned up the collar of her flannel shirt and crawled in her sleeping bag, pulling it tight around her. “Night, honey.”