There's Blood on the Moon Tonight (62 page)

She giggled, watching him wrap the towel around his waist, his penis heavy and stiff again underneath his wet shorts. “Where’s your shirt?” she asked him.

Bud couldn’t tell if she was joking or not. “Damn, Josie! You practically clawed it off my back and set it adrift out there,” he said, pointing testily to the ocean. “It’s probably half-way to Bermuda by now!”

Josie tipped her head back and laughed. She enjoyed seeing
Big Bad Bud Brown
so gawky and a-tremble. Pouting like a little boy. Belatedly, she slapped a hand over her mouth. “Sorry, love. Here, put me towel over your shoulders. I suppose you could wear the shirt I worked out in,” she said, gesturing over at the pile of wet and sandy clothes she’d retrieved and tossed into the back of the Jeep.

Bud eyed them doubtfully. “Yeah, right. Damn it to hell, Red! You owe me a Famous Monster’s T-shirt! You know they don’t make those anymore!”

She poked him in the chest. “Then you should have grabbed
it
instead of me
arse
, Romeo.”

             
Bud dropped onto the blanket with a sigh, his legs crossed over each other. Josie patted the top of his head like a good little dog, and then set out their dinner on paper plates. Munching on a spicy pickle, Bud couldn’t help but smile. It was hard staying cross with Big Red. She looked so damn cute in his oversized gym shorts and
Property of the U.S.S. Enterpoop
T-shirt. Her unencumbered breasts bobbling so fetchingly underneath the thin layer of cotton, her feet sprinkled with fine white sand.

Like confectioner’s sugar,
he thought, staring at her delectable toes. He shook the fog of teen lust from his head. Lately, all he could think about was Josie’s body.
What the hell’s the matter with me? Even her sandy feet arouse me!

             
He focused his thoughts on other matters. Like how serene the ocean looked, awash in the red glow of the moon, so fat and full in the falling light. The lights twinkling on, across the water, on the mainland, like waking stars in the heavenly firmament. The lulling rhythms of the surf washing towards them as high tide crept in. The
Ding!
Ding!
of an unseen buoy out by Crater Cove, and the wispy clouds creeping up from the south. Hinting at troubles ahead. The very outer bands of Hurricane Jack, still three days distant, had begun to brush across the island.

             
Bud frowned.
Damn. That’s one big ass storm.

Josie took a bite of her gyro and glanced over at Bud, suddenly remembering his mysterious comment earlier in the day. “Hey love, what was that you were saying this afternoon? Something about being held at the Research Center against your will?”

Bud told her what he and his dad had talked over that morning. What they knew; what they suspected.

“So you don’t remember a thing about it, huh?”

“Nope. That’s what bothers us. I remember my brief stay in the Beaufort Hospital
before
that, so why not this?”

Before deliberating on it further, Josie answered him. “He hypnotized you.” Her statement didn’t come out as a theory or suggestion. Just a simply stated fact.

“Hypnosis
?
What makes you say that?”

“Oh, I heard he was proficient in the art,” she said, thinking fast. “You know, for people trying to lose weight, stop smoking, that sort of thing. It just stands to reason; how else could he get you to forget a whole time period of your life?”

Bud mulled it over and shrugged. It made sense, he supposed. He would run it by his pop later on. He couldn’t wait for the hurricane to pass over so he and his dad could get to the bottom of all this! He was convinced, more than ever, that the Center—and Bidwell, by his association—was involved in his mother’s death. In fact, he was so engrossed over this that he didn’t stop to scrutinize Josie’s sudden insight. If he had, he would’ve realized he’d never heard of Bidwell using hypnosis before with his patients. Nor did the man advertise the arcane practice.

From the corner of her eye, Josie watched Bud’s face. It remained passive and at peace, blissfully ignorant. An imperceptible sigh escaped her lips.
That was close! If he ever found out what happened, I’d be visiting him on death row. For he’d surely kill that rat bastard…

They finished their supper without further comment on the matter, talking softly and reveling in each other’s company. It was nice spending time together, just the two of them. After putting their trash in the basket, she laid down on the blanket with her head on Bud’s lap. She had to be at the Portmans’ soon, but was reluctant to leave the cradle of those strong limbs. It hadn’t escaped her notice how calm Bud was at the moment. His usually nervous hands were at rest on her hair, gently cupping her head like a crown. In fact, Bud was so still Josie had to look up to see if he might not be dozing. Her eyes found his, staring down at her in total tranquility. The thought that she might be at the center of this newfound peace made her feel all warm inside. Proud of the serenity she’d managed to impart.

If only for a little while.

Their eyes drifted apart, towards the autumn colored sky. He sighed contentedly as they watched the red clouds crawl over the luminous face of the moon, dying it maroon. Like some giant Easter egg.  “Look,” Josie said, pointing up at the heavens. “There’s blood on the moon tonight.”

                            *******

Once again, Rusty and Tubby couldn’t focus on the movie,
My Bodyguard.
Josie’s news had kept them distracted all afternoon. Tubby thought it looked like a great picture, too. It seemed to fit his situation so well. Bud Brown had proven to be not only his bodyguard, but a darn good friend to boot. Just like the two fellows in the movie.

He and Rusty had set up a tent in the middle of the empty lot, with speakers on either side turned all the way up. They were sprawled out on their sleeping bags, facing the front of the tent and the screen beyond. Fireflies poked holes in the night, further distracting the boys from the plot.

              As the end credits rolled, Rusty remarked: “Matt Dillon sure does play a convincing asshole, don’t he?”

             
“Yeah, he’s got that Lester Look about him,” Tubby remarked offhandedly. His mind was still on other matters. “Do you really think Mr. Brown would call our parents if we didn’t go see Dr. Bidwell tomorrow?”

             
“Afraid so,” Rusty said, nervously adjusting his glasses. “Bilbo wouldn’t have said it if he didn’t mean it. Thing is, I think he might be right.”

             
                            “Are you saying you trust Dr. Bidwell now?”

             
“Nah, I’m just saying one or all of us may have gotten the disease without even knowing it. Mind you, we should still keep our mouths shut around the man. If we did get it, though, then Bidwell’s our best chance at a cure.”
              “Why can’t we go see a doctor on the mainland? That way we don’t have to worry about the Center quarantining us at all!”

             
“Won’t work, Opie. Think about it. Since it’s more than likely this rabies virus is a
newly
developed strain—”

             
“Then only the Center would have the vaccine,” Tubby sighed. 

             
“There is one thing that still bothers me,” Rusty said, scratching his head in the darkness. The movie had run through, and Mr. Tolson had turned off all the lights. The only illumination was coming from the blood red moon above them, and the fireflies still flitting about.

             
“Yeah? What’s that, Gnat?”

             
“Why didn’t it work for that Wilson dude? The vaccine, I mean.”

             
“You mean the fellow that Bud shot?”

“Uh-huh. The very same one they said
hadn’t
been shot! Can you say
cover up
? Just the same, I’m glad for Bud’s sake they
did
cover it up. But if this guy worked with the test animals, like they say he did, then it stands to reason he would’ve been inoculated against the virus.”

             
“How do you know he had the disease? Maybe—”

             
“Are you forgetting what Bud and Big Red saw that night in the Pines? The glowing red eyes, the wet growling, as if its throat and mouth were full of phlegm?”

             
“Oh, yeah,” Tubby said. They remained silent for a moment. Then Tubby remarked, “I don’t pretend to know what I’m talking about here, but if the Center was working on different strains at once…”

             
Rusty picked up his friend’s train of thought. “Then maybe they haven’t had time to develop a vaccine yet! Damn, Opie. For a white boy you’re pretty smart.”

             
Tubby turned on the propane lantern he’d brought along, dispelling the gloom. He smiled. “I know, right? And for the love of God, please stop calling me Opie!”

             
“Whatever you say, Opie. Your theory, I’m afraid, does lend more credence to Bilbo’s concerns. It means Doctor Bidwell would be our only hope if one of us caught his nasty version of rabies.”

             
Tubby slyly searched Rusty’s face. His friend seemed no more distressed than usual. He wondered if Rusty even recalled all that saliva covering him that day. Because if any of them were apt to catch the disease—

“You fellows all tucked in?” said Tubby’s dad, popping his head into the tent.

“Dang it, Dad!” screeched Tubby. “You scared the
bejeezuz
out of us!”

Frank wagged a bony finger at his son. “Watch your language, Ralph Tolson! If your mother heard you talk like that she’d break out the Lifebuoy.”

“Sorry, sir,” Tubby blushed. His eyes shifted over to his friend, who was literally biting his tongue. “We were just telling ghost stories and you popped in at the worst moment. Scared me is all.”

“S’all right, son,” Frank said, laughing a little. “Just keep it in the locker room, hear?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Can I get you guys anything before I turn in?”

“We’re good, Dad,” Tubby said.

Trying hard not to laugh, Rusty just shook his head. The Tolsons’ really were like an old golly, gee-whiz, fifties-sitcom family. No wonder Tubby was such an anachronism!

“All righty then. I’ll wake you early so you’ll both have time to shower before going to school. I probably won’t be here when you come home tomorrow, Ralph.”

“That’s right. You’re going to Beaufort tomorrow with the Browns’, aren’t you? Can I come along, Dad?”

“Sorry, kiddo. I already asked your mom and she nixed it. As it is, with the storm and all, you’ll probably miss school on Wednesday and Thursday. If it makes you feel any better you can help me put the new shutters up when I get home.”

Ralph rolled his eyes. “Gee, thanks a million.”

“Night, fellows.”

“Goodnight, Dad.”

“Night, Mr. T,” Rusty giggled.

Tubby growled, “I pity the fool who don’t go night-night!” The tent walls rippled with their unbridled laughter.

                                          *******

After the babysitting gig was over, Bud insisted on walking Josie home. First, they had to pick up her little brother. “This isn’t at all necessary,” she said, following Bud up the Huggins’ front steps. “Joel and I only have to go next door to get home.” The only light burning in the cabin was in the living room, where Ham was predictably tracking the progress of Hurricane Jack on the Weather Channel.

              Josie stopped at the screen door and whispered huskily in Bud’s ear. Her breath was moist and warm.
“You just want to come over so you can take back the shorts and shirt I borrowed from you.
You want to see me naked again…don’t you, Buddy boy?”

Bud had to look in her face to see if she was joking. Her green eyes were alight with mischief. “Ha. Ha. Seriously, Red. Joel might be asleep. I can carry him—”

“Don’t beg, boyo. It’s
so
unbecoming.”

“You can be so exasperating, Joe! I’m not beg—”

              “Will you two
please
stop whispering out there,” said Ham from the sofa. “Sound like two bees buzzing around my porch light.
BBbbbzzz! BBbbbzzz! BBbbbzzz!”

Josie pushed in the screen door. “Sorry, Uncle Ham. Bud Brown was sexually harassing me out there!”

“
Josie
!”
Bud cried, his face turning bright red. He glanced over at Ham—the big man eyeing him as if he was a shark in his shrimp nets.

“Oh, hush, you big baby. Brown bear knows I’m teasing.” Josie plopped down beside her uncle, pulling his beefy arm around her shoulders. “Joel asleep?”

Ham looked back and forth at the two younguns. Bud was acting like a little boy caught with his hand in the cookie jar. His eyes kept blinking and his cheeks were as rosy as a white child’s paddled behind. Josie looked like the cat that swallowed the canary
; a bit too pleased with herself
, Ham thought to himself.
Shoot!
The girl was flat out enjoying Bud’s befuddlement! The sexual tension coming off of the two teenagers was as thick as an early morning fogbank on Crater Cove.