There's Blood on the Moon Tonight (6 page)

             
Sitting behind his father in their Country Squire station wagon, waiting their turn to disembark, Tubby kept expecting something portentous to happen. Maybe a rumble of thunder from a looming dark cloud. A lick of lightning across the sky. The heavens above, however, remained cloudless, blue, and mute. No sign of bad tidings ahead.

Their old family roadster passed underneath the entrance of the Moon Island Harbor without injury or incident. Main Street began at the harbor entrance, the lowest elevation on the entire island; a freshly paved road branched off to the left of that, Reva Heights, disappearing around a palmetto tree-lined bend.

There wasn’t a traffic light in sight.

In fact, there wasn’t much traffic about, either.

Frank informed his family that Reva Heights had the nicest properties on Moon, referred to around here as the West End or West Side. To their right, on Town Hall Lane, the street dead-ended on the sands of a peaceful looking beach. Ralph strained his head for a better view. No bikinis in sight. Their station wagon drove straight ahead through the small but quaint business district.

“Hey, Dad. What was with that skull and crossbones out in the harbor?” Tubby asked, playing it off as bored curiosity.

“Pretty gruesome, eh?” Frank said, affecting his Peter Lorre chuckle. As always, it made Tubby laugh. “That’s a warning for boaters to stay on course, son. A lot of boats run aground out there—or worse, rip their bottoms out on the old oyster beds.”

The explanation satisfied Tubby, and as they drove down the main drag, his earlier premonition vanished from his mind. His dad hadn’t been kidding; Moon Island really was like Mayberry out to sea! Tubby kept expecting to see Barney Fife walking his beat, or good old Aunt Bee on her way to the Ladies Auxiliary. Over there was a corner grocery store that wouldn’t have filled the produce section of a Piggly Wiggly back in Atlanta. Right next door to that was a Marine and Hardware store. As the Tolsons’ drove by, an aproned man emerged and began unrolling a green and white awning over the entrance. Eagle’s Dollar and Drug Emporium rolled by next, its immediate neighbor a small but efficient looking bank, then the diner his father had told them about—Peg Leg Pete’s.

Across the street from all that sat a sprawling, two-story brick department store called Cole’s. Frank assured Emma that she would find a nice selection of home furnishings and appliances there—in fact, they could get started shopping first thing tomorrow. Emma squealed as if she’d just won the state lottery. A beauty/barber shop, a shoe store, a bookstore/coffee shop, and various clothing outlets took up the rest of Main on the right. And while none of them were especially busy, they all appeared to have customers inside.

The biggest and most impressive building on Moon, and yet the only one devoid of any patrons it seemed, took up a whole block on the left side of the street.

At first glance, Tubby thought it was a theater.

The outside of the building looked just like the entrance of a movie house. An old movie theater, that is. One of those Grand Palace kind of deals.

The blood dripping letters on the marquee proclaimed it to be the
Dark Side of the Moon Wax Museu
m.
Jeepers! Now THAT looks promising!

Tubby stared out his window. It seemed strange to him that a rinky-dink town like Moon should have such a grand wax museum (
Heck, there isn’t even a 7-11 here!
). He’d been to the Ripley’s Wax Museum in Myrtle Beach—a resort that was at least ten times bigger than Moon—but Ripley’s wasn’t half the size of this mammoth building!

Tubby wanted to ask his father about the place, but his parents were too engrossed in the particulars of living on the island:
The utilities—the water is already turned on, but there’s no cable TV on Moon. Is the power on at the house? Yes, but the phone isn't scheduled to be installed until next week. Is the house move-in ready? Yes and no, dear. The bedrooms, bathrooms, and kitchen are livable (just), but the rest of the place is a mess. Not to mention the disrepair of the lot and concessions building…

As usual they had their work cut out for them.    

Tubby was leaning up on the front seat, between his mom and dad, when his father abruptly pulled in front of the last store on Main Street, across the road from the wax museum. “Why are we stopping here?” Tubby asked, looking out at the store’s front window display.

As if unhinged, his mouth dropped open.

His dad turned around in his seat and grinned at him. Tubby didn’t notice. He couldn’t tear his eyes from the improbable sight before him.

The plate-glass window had the name of the store painted right on it
:
MOON MAN’S
!
it declared mysteriously. No explanation at all as to what the store actually sold. The seven-foot-tall robot in the window, holding several bagged comic books, fanned out like a hand of cards, accomplished that detail quite nicely. A retro looking ray gun, pointed at Tubby, occupied the robot’s other claw. To those in the know, it was an homage to the Comic Book Guy’s store in
The Simpsons.
Toys from the past took up the rest of the window display, artfully arranged in a loving tableau. Erector sets, fully assembled and running. Lincoln Log forts besieged by miniature tin Indians. Aurora monster models in their original packaging. Uncle Milton’s Ant farms, Magic Eight Balls, Rock ‘em Sock ‘em Robots, and G.I. Joes in their ‘60’s military regalia surrounded the ebony robot on all sides. An antique Lionel train set occupied the only space left on the floor. It did a slow figure eight around the robot’s platter-sized feet, its smokestack belching smoke up the robot’s caboose every time it passed underneath the iron giant.

“Holy Moly Mackinoly!” Tubby intoned, taking it all in with huge eyes. “That’s Robby the Robot!”

Frank laughed, once again pleased with himself. The first time he saw this comic book store he knew it would be a spectacular hit with Ralph.

Emma looked bewildered. “Robby the Robot? Ralphie, dear, what is this place? A toy store?”

Tubby just smiled. He got out of the car, stepped onto the sidewalk, and stared up at the famous robot from the classic film,
Forbidden Planet
. One of his favorite sci-fi flicks. It couldn’t be the real one, could it?

Tubby looked past the robot.

Inside the store, a skinny clerk with a Moe Howard haircut was ringing up some comics for a short black kid. The clerk had on a T-shirt with Goober Pyle on the front, spouting his inimitable impersonation:
Judy! Judy! Judy!

Toys, models, and various memorabilia covered every inch of wall space on one side of the store, while the pitted wood-plank floor was mostly taken up by rectangular tables, loaded down with likewise size boxes; each one crammed to the hilt with comic books, which were them-selves sealed individually in acid-free plastic bags.

Tubby should know. He’d been in enough of these stores…although none quite like this one. He could practically smell the pulp from out on the sidewalk.

On the opposite wall was an old-fashioned soda fountain (a prominent sign on the counter decreed:
Purchase All Items Before Sitting Down to Order!
)
.
Six vinyl-covered stools fronted the gleaming marble counter, from which an older boy and girl sat, sipping from the same large milkshake in front of them. Countering this archaic image was a flank of the most up-to-date video games, placed against the wall furthest from the soda fountain. Tubby could hear the electronic
beeps
and
boops
  from outside the store
.
MOON MAN’S
!
  was Nerd Nirvana, and the New Geek in Town immediately fell under its spell.

“Son, would you like to look around, do some shopping? The Drive-In is just down the road a-piece. You can’t miss it. Or should I come back for you?”

Tubby blinked at his father in disbelief. Never before had his parents let him do such a thing! Especially in a strange town. Tubby didn’t even own a bike, so he never wandered far from home. He glanced over at the car, where his mother sat thunderstruck. Any second and she would veto his father’s ridiculous suggestion. “You really mean it, Dad? I can just walk home by myself?”

“You’re nearly seventeen, Ralph. Not a little boy, anymore. Just not too long, okay?” he said, nodding his chin at Emma. “And here,” he said, handing Tubby a crisp new hundred dollar bill. “That’s for being such a good sport all these years, son.”
             

Before Tubby could ask the strange man:
Who are you and what have you done with my father?
his dad jumped back into the Country Squire and drove away in a cloud of red dust. Tubby could hear his mom’s shrill objections all the way up the street.

He had his hand on the doorknob when the runty black kid he’d seen earlier stepped out of the store. He was two-feet shorter than Tubby and skinny as Popeye’s favorite dame. Owlish eyes looked out at the world through Mr. Magoo lenses. Tubby almost laughed at the sight.

The large eyes blinked up at Tubby, and then crinkled merrily as he grinned. “How’s it hanging, Tiny?”

Without waiting for a reply, he continued up the street in the direction of the Drive-In. After the comic book store, the hardtop of Main Street turned into an unpaved dirt road called Huggins Way. Dense woods lined it on both sides, the trees on the right serving as a buffer, screening the road from the worst of the ocean’s salty breezes. Tubby could hear the shushing surf as it sizzled ashore. He was about to try his hand at a clever comeback, but by then Ham Huggins’s only child was halfway up the street, singing the snappy theme song from Tubby’s favorite cartoon show.

“Spiderman! Spiderman! Does whatever a spider can! Spins a web! Hey, any size! Catches them thieves, just like flies! Look out! Here comes the Spiderman!”

Thursday, October 7
th
, 2,004

The large gray dog lifted her aching head from between her paws and stared bleary eyed at the Overseer entering the kennel. As always, the Overseer had his hairy man-thing with him. The dog hated the man-thing even more than she hated the Overseers. The man-thing teased her, threw things at her, had once even urinated on her, leaving its vile monkey scent in her cage for all time.

Oh, how she despised the man-thing!

While the white coated Overseer began to prepare the meals, the hairy man-thing padded down the center aisle of the kennel, using her knuckles and hand-like feet to lope along. The Gray got up and bristled.

The hated man-thing had once been an animal subject herself, but the Overseer who cared for her and the other assorted animals of kennel 13 had rescued her and made the chimp his own. The man-thing now thought she was better than the other animals, still locked in their cages, awaiting the needles and the horrible deaths they all had to look forward to at the end of their test runs. The arrogant man-thing liked to lord it over the test subjects, but reserved its worst for the large gray female dog at the end of the run. It was the man-thing’s habit to open the Gray’s cage, to openly taunt her, for she knew the gray bitch wouldn’t—
couldn’t
—leave her cage. That was the first lesson every animal learned at the kennel. Leave the cage without the proper command and suffer great agony as a result. The Gray was counting on that careless assumption—for she’d suffer any pain to exact her revenge.

             
For two years she’d awaited her turn in the kennel as Test Subject K-13—#139. Waiting for the day when the Overseers would take her through that mysterious
Back Door
. Where the others returned either changed…or didn’t return at all. The stench of illness and death was always strong in the kennel in which she’d been whelped.

They’d come for her the day before, stabbing her with their needles, taking her blood, checking her eyes, teeth, gums, and genitals. Fingers, rude and rough. Poking and prodding! Poking and prodding! Never in the Gray’s life had she been so happy to return to the familiar narrow confines of her cage! Unlike so many before her, she had survived her journey through the
Back Door
.

Unharmed and unchanged. 

Or so she had thought.

She’d gone to sleep afterwards, feeling no ill affects, but something had changed in her overnight.

She was different now.

Across the aisle one of her brothers feverishly paced his cage. He had received his shots on the very same day as she. It was the way of the Overseers to take two at a time: One male, one female, always from the same litter. Her brother had changed as well. She could smell the
wanting
on him. The urgent call to rut. Though, oddly enough, not with her. She ignored him, even though she too felt the need to mate. Coupling wasn’t paramount on her mind this day. It was an altogether different kind of lust she had on her mind. A lust for bloodletting…

The man-thing stopped in front of the Gray’s cage and turned to look back at her master. He didn’t like it when she opened the cage doors. He was preoccupied with the morning feedings, however, and had his back to her.