The Slow Moon Read Online Free Page A
Author: Elizabeth Cox
her.
“Mom?” he said, his face a puzzle, his eyes deep sockets. As she came in, he touched her shoulder absentmindedly, innocent of her panic. She pushed her lips against his hair.
“I’ve made coffee,” Carl said, wanting praise, wanting anything but what was to come. Everything about him seemed transparent.
“Who called?” Helen asked. She had heard the phone ring.
“Raymond Butler. He’s coming at nine.”
“Crow?”
“Don’t make him talk, Helen. Let’s just have breakfast. Don’t make him talk.”
They did not turn on the TV, not wanting to hear the news.
“We’ll get through this all right,” Carl said, putting cereal on the table.
Helen brought orange juice and a pitcher of milk. She needed to select her words carefully. “We will?” she asked. She looked for a hole in his words. “Will we?” Were things worse than she had suspected?
“I promise you.” He spoke above Crow’s head, not averting his gaze.
When Crow went upstairs to shower and dress, Helen asked Carl, “What is it? What are you not telling me?”
“Sophie was hurt real bad. Raped, Helen. She was raped.”
Helen gasped. “Well, you know Crow didn’t do
that.
Carl, can you get him out of this? Can you do something?”
“I can,” said Carl. He knew he could apply political pressure. He knew how to manipulate the system with money. He waited a moment before saying, “You think I should?”
“Yes,” said Helen, her prayer released. She didn’t believe Crow had done anything wrong, and she hoped to protect him from punishment. She wanted Carl to make it right. If that could happen, if Carl could make this right, then Helen’s vow to God would be this:
I will bring You my heart. And I will overlook Carl’s indiscretions, as well as my sister’s. I will forgive my sister.
The last time her sister had visited them, Carl’s affection for Ava was less hidden and Helen found herself hating him.
I will overlook that, as Carl once overlooked the way I hurt him.
Then she added,
If this can be made right, I will do anything.
Helen refused to let herself imagine what might come from this moment. She shuddered, not knowing if she could forgive anything. But she felt relief as she heard Carl’s promise, and she let her mind forget his confused plea:
You think I should?
And then her own, unqualified
Yes.
From the kitchen window she could see the different pitch of the roof next door. The odd angle and the drip of rain made the air uncertain. Now she had come crashing into the middle of a life that did not resemble her own.
“I love you,” she told Carl. The words, not having been said in a long time, solidified and hung in the air. Carl had not said those words to her either, and he did not say them now, but he heard her voice and felt the force of what he had to do.
A year ago Helen had caught Crow sneaking out of the house in the middle of the night, running toward the woods, but stopping short when he heard his mother’s sharp call. As he came back toward the house, she saw tall figures retreat, long shadows moving into the woods. Had they been waiting for Crow to join them?
“Where were you going this time of night?” she asked, as he walked back into the kitchen.
“Nowhere.”
“
No
where? Tell me what’s going on.” She could see Crow’s head lift toward the stairs, listening for his father’s footsteps.
“He’s not awake,” Helen said. “I just happened to be downstairs because I couldn’t sleep. He’ll have some questions of his own, though, I’m sure of that.”
“Mom, don’t tell him. Please.”
“Where were you going, Crow?”
“I was meeting Bobby and Tom.” He looked at her with a lusterless gaze. “And Antony, probably Casey.” Helen did not like Casey. “We were going to ride around for a while, then come back.” His words sounded cagey but true. “Bobby had his car.”
“At two in the morning?” She searched for an answer in
“Mom?” he said, his face a puzzle, his eyes deep sockets. As she came in, he touched her shoulder absentmindedly, innocent of her panic. She pushed her lips against his hair.
“I’ve made coffee,” Carl said, wanting praise, wanting anything but what was to come. Everything about him seemed transparent.
“Who called?” Helen asked. She had heard the phone ring.
“Raymond Butler. He’s coming at nine.”
“Crow?”
“Don’t make him talk, Helen. Let’s just have breakfast. Don’t make him talk.”
They did not turn on the TV, not wanting to hear the news.
“We’ll get through this all right,” Carl said, putting cereal on the table.
Helen brought orange juice and a pitcher of milk. She needed to select her words carefully. “We will?” she asked. She looked for a hole in his words. “Will we?” Were things worse than she had suspected?
“I promise you.” He spoke above Crow’s head, not averting his gaze.
When Crow went upstairs to shower and dress, Helen asked Carl, “What is it? What are you not telling me?”
“Sophie was hurt real bad. Raped, Helen. She was raped.”
Helen gasped. “Well, you know Crow didn’t do
that.
Carl, can you get him out of this? Can you do something?”
“I can,” said Carl. He knew he could apply political pressure. He knew how to manipulate the system with money. He waited a moment before saying, “You think I should?”
“Yes,” said Helen, her prayer released. She didn’t believe Crow had done anything wrong, and she hoped to protect him from punishment. She wanted Carl to make it right. If that could happen, if Carl could make this right, then Helen’s vow to God would be this:
I will bring You my heart. And I will overlook Carl’s indiscretions, as well as my sister’s. I will forgive my sister.
The last time her sister had visited them, Carl’s affection for Ava was less hidden and Helen found herself hating him.
I will overlook that, as Carl once overlooked the way I hurt him.
Then she added,
If this can be made right, I will do anything.
Helen refused to let herself imagine what might come from this moment. She shuddered, not knowing if she could forgive anything. But she felt relief as she heard Carl’s promise, and she let her mind forget his confused plea:
You think I should?
And then her own, unqualified
Yes.
From the kitchen window she could see the different pitch of the roof next door. The odd angle and the drip of rain made the air uncertain. Now she had come crashing into the middle of a life that did not resemble her own.
“I love you,” she told Carl. The words, not having been said in a long time, solidified and hung in the air. Carl had not said those words to her either, and he did not say them now, but he heard her voice and felt the force of what he had to do.
A year ago Helen had caught Crow sneaking out of the house in the middle of the night, running toward the woods, but stopping short when he heard his mother’s sharp call. As he came back toward the house, she saw tall figures retreat, long shadows moving into the woods. Had they been waiting for Crow to join them?
“Where were you going this time of night?” she asked, as he walked back into the kitchen.
“Nowhere.”
“
No
where? Tell me what’s going on.” She could see Crow’s head lift toward the stairs, listening for his father’s footsteps.
“He’s not awake,” Helen said. “I just happened to be downstairs because I couldn’t sleep. He’ll have some questions of his own, though, I’m sure of that.”
“Mom, don’t tell him. Please.”
“Where were you going, Crow?”
“I was meeting Bobby and Tom.” He looked at her with a lusterless gaze. “And Antony, probably Casey.” Helen did not like Casey. “We were going to ride around for a while, then come back.” His words sounded cagey but true. “Bobby had his car.”
“At two in the morning?” She searched for an answer in