The Rising Moon

• The Rising Moon
  
• Midpoint
  

The Rising Moon

A novel

Nilsa Rodriguez

Copyright 2011

Published by Black Dove Publishing at Smashwords

This is a work of fiction. All of the characters, names, organizations, location and events portrayed in this novel either are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise, without written permission of the publisher. For information regarding permission, write to
[email protected]

THE RISING MOON. Copyright 2011

Published by Black Dove Publishing at Smashwords

A Novel by Nilsa Rodriguez. All rights reserved.

www.NilsaRodriguez.com

Cover Design Copyright 2011 Mist Raven │ www.mistraven.deviantart.com

ISBN-13: 978-0-9839102-1-3

Dedication

This book is dedicated to my brother Eddy whose endless support made this book possible. To my sister Edna who claims not to be a
reader
. I hope this book can inspire you to become one. To my mother who always believed in me and of course to my husband and son whom I love very much
.

THANK YOU

Acknowledgments

I couldn’t have written this book without the infinite support from my wonderful husband and son. My brother Eddy, who handled my story and ideas with such care and who didn’t grow tired of reading the manuscript over and over again as the story evolved to what it is today. A great big thank you to my freelance writer friends who have given me advice, support and guidance through this journey. And most of all to the Ortiz family who are my biggest supporters.

You guys are awesome!

∞
An Old Cherokee Tale ∞

“
Let me tell you a story,” said an old wise grandfather to his young and naïve grandson. “Sometimes I find it hard to live with the two wolves living inside me. For they both fight and try to dominate my spirit. One is good and lives in harmony with all around him. He knows he’s brave and strong and will only fight when it’s right to do so and in a fair way. But the other wolf, ah! He’s quick to anger and lives in fear. He’s insecure and selfish. He does what only benefits him and not those who love him.”

The boy looked intently at his grandfather and asked, “Which one wins?”

“
The one I feed,” replied his old and wise grandfather.

The Rising Moon

∞
Chapter 1 ∞

THE AIR FELT
THICK as a sauna. Clouds clustered overhead, like black mountains violently unleashing torrents lightning bolts that lit up the sky, making the night bright as day. Something terrible brewed outside. I felt it in the pit of my stomach. The storm was unlike any other I have ever seen before…it seemed supernatural.

“
Lia!” hollered John. His voice sounded impatient and thunderous as the storm. “Li-a!”

I rushed out of bed and met him in the kitchen. He stood over the sink staring out the window. I could tell he was drunk. The smell of whisky reeked through his pores and clothes.

“
Listen girl,” he said. “It seems Star has gotten out again and the storm is picking up pretty bad out there. See if you can get that stupid horse to return to the stable. God only knows why she listens to you and not me.” He hung his drenched hat on a hook beside the door and slipped off his muddy boots.

Star’s an Appaloosa mare and the latest addition to the ranch. Her temperament was supposed to be gentle, but since her arrival four months ago, John hasn’t been able to tame her. I’m the only person on the ranch she allowed near her. I didn’t mind it at all. There was something about her human-like eyes that comforted me as much as I comforted her.

“
Well, are you going?” he asked reaching for a chair, but nearly missed.

I really had no other choice but to go. We didn’t own the ranch we lived in. The Ulric’s did and if they saw John, or smelled him for that matter, in the condition he was in tonight they’d surely run us out in a heartbeat.

“
Go on now,” he said as he swooshed me with his hand.

“
Yes sir,” I grumbled. Not caring to change out of my blue cotton night gown, I quickly put on my boots and at the sound of a roaring thunder, I reached for my raincoat and headed out the door.

The howling wind and blinding rain was harsh and poured down unsteady. It came at me from all directions, slapping me as I attempted to make my way through. I pulled the strings on the neck of my hood to keep it from falling, but it was no use, my hair was already drenched and now stuck to my stinging face.

“
Star!” I shouted over the smacking sounds of the rain. “Where are you girl?” Unable to see where I was going, I stepped on a thorny bush beside the stable wall. Blood ran warm and quick down the side of my leg. It was too dark to see how badly I cut myself. With a slight limp, I hopped into the stables and examined the wound. I was relieved that it was just a mere scratch. But boy did it sting! I limped over to where the horses were and to my surprise, Star was inside.

There she was staring right at me with those large, brown eyes. It was obvious by the look of her chestnut coat that she was dry. What John saw outside the stable wasn’t Star or any of our horses. All six of them were dry and cozy in their stall.

Bordering with the Shoshone National Forest it wasn’t rare to come across a wild animal every now and then. We’ve been visited by grizzly bears, coyotes, elks, and wolves on the property many times before. Whatever John saw tonight was gone now. My face boiled with anger as I stood there soaking wet, cold and bleeding. I locked the stable doors behind me and rushed back to the cabin.

Once inside I heard John snoring as he laid asleep on the green couch in front of the TV. There was no point in trying to wake him. The anger I felt had already washed away with the rain, I wasn’t one to hold grudges, besides John was drunk and the storm was blinding. There was no way he could’ve known what he saw out there wasn’t Star. I’m sure he must’ve saw something, but whatever it was the bullying storm chased it away.

I covered John with a quilt and shut off the T.V. He wasn't always an alcoholic. He once was happy and full of life. He and his wife Veena treated me like family and I was grateful for that. His world changed the night she died. Her sudden death and the horrific way she died were too much for him to bear.

The night she died, John accidentally hit an animal with his truck that ventured into the ranch. The animal was quick and John couldn’t make out what it was. All he knew was he struck it hard because the whole front bender on his truck was damaged. He got out of the truck, reached for his shot gun and followed it into the woods. But although the animal was injured, it was still fast enough to outrun him.

He decided to leave the animal and return home. When he did, Veena wasn’t there. I was asleep and John awoke me, asking me if I knew where she was. It wasn’t like her to be out so late or to not answer her cell phone. Especially after he’s called her four times, one phone call after the other. Worried, John set out to look for her while I asked the Ulric’s and the other ranch workers if they’ve seen her. Nearly two hours later John found her lifeless body a hundred yards from the cabin, in a pool of blood. Her body had deep wounds across her face, her ribs were crushed and her legs were badly broken.

The medical examiner declared the cause of the death as being mauled by a large animal. John felt that if he‘d killed the animal he injured with his truck that night; Veena would still be alive today. He blamed himself for what happened to her and ever since that night, John hasn’t been the same.

I limped back to my room closing the door behind me. I wrapped my dripping hair in a towel and wiped the blood off my leg. The wound was pink, soft and healing quickly. I climbed in to bed and pulled the blanket up to my chin. The wind was becoming fainter, more like a whisper as I lay in bed staring at the ceiling. I turned on my side to face the window as a breeze crept in through a crack on the window frame. The sheer ivory curtains swayed gently, twinkling against the dark wood panel walls and floor.

Hugging my pillow, I began to think of Veena. How her brown eyes always sparkled when she smiled and how her short dark hair always smelled like lavender. She was the only person who truly understood me. Just like John, I missed her too. Especially on nights like tonight.

The following morning the sky was blue and promising. I pulled myself out of bed and headed to the bathroom. I stood there brushing my teeth glancing hard and deep at the person staring back. I wondered if I looked like my father. Was he pale like me? Or maybe I looked like my mother?

I looked closely into my large blue eyes. At the white pigment in the iris of my left eye that resembled a half moon. When it first appeared in my eye at the age of five, Dr. Parker, a medical doctor from River View Hospital, diagnosed it as heterchromia.

He told me it’s mostly common in animals, but it can also be past down genetically in humans. I always wondered which of my parents had it.

No matter how many times I tried to remember them, I couldn’t. All I knew was what was told to me: that they were killed in a car accident when I was four years old. When I thought back to my early childhood, all I could remember were the countless nurses and doctors from River View Hospital. I was sent to live there after my first foster parents, Linda and Thomas Menden claimed I would howl at the moon and constantly suffer from night terrors. Although they tried their best to comfort me, their attempts had reached its limit on the day they found me asleep outside, naked and covered in dirt and leaves. They felt I was too much for them to handle so they decided to return me to the state, which then sent me to River View, where I was diagnosed with Lycanthropy, a rare psychotic disorder that causes the person to believe they can transform into an animal.

During my time at the hospital, Dr. Parker helped me overcome the night terrors that he believed triggered the disorder through medication and psychotherapy. I haven’t had any night terrors in a very long time. But since the night Veena died, my nightmares have returned and several times, I’ve found myself waking up in the woods.

I pulled out my favorite dark blue jeans, white cotton blouse and red hooded sweater from the closet and laid it on the bed. Today was the beginning of my senior year at Lander Valley High School.

I swung my backpack over my shoulder and headed out the door. As I walked through the wood paneled living room, I picked up the quilt I covered John in last night and neatly placed it over the couch. The room was once the place where we would gather and watch TV as a family, but until recently had evolved into an uninviting cave.

The clapping sound of eggs frying in the pan and the smell of freshly brewed coffee seemed to call John into the kitchen.

“
Good morning,” I said as I placed two eggs unto his plate.

“
Morning.”

The smell of whisky had washed away with his morning shower. I sat there looking at him as he ate. His long blond hair was badly in need of a cut. The row of silver hair that framed his forehead has grown wider and the years were beginning to show on his unshaven sun burned face.

“
Thanks for breakfast,” he said as he dusted his hands on his pant leg. “Don’t forget you’re driving Emi to school today.”