The Moon Room, Chapter 2

I staggered into my cubicle, dropping my purse and grabbing my coffee mug. A bruise on my hip ached when I walked. I wondered if I should install some manacles in the moon room so I wouldn’t injure myself so much, but I’d probably just tear them out of the wall anyway. I couldn’t even pad the walls. Why did I have to be so uncontrollably violent in wolf form?1

I wandered into the break room and grabbed a tea bag, filling my mug with hot water. Lorna, one of my coworkers, stood refilling the coffee machine. She turned and gave me a little wave. “How was your day off yesterday?”2

I shrugged. “All right. I slept most of the day.”3

Lorna cocked her head a little. I could tell she didn’t believe me. Her eyes wandered down to the band-aids on my hands, then back to my face.4

“Get in a fight with your pillow?” She grinned.5

I cringed. My cheek still stung a little. Apparently my makeup didn’t conceal the scrape well enough. “I don’t want to talk about it,” I said, heading back to my cubicle.6

Lorna put a hand on my shoulder. “Honey,” she said, “if your boyfriend is hurting you…”7

“I don’t have a boyfriend,” I said. “I haven’t in four years, and I don’t think I’ll have another any time soon. I fell and scraped my hands and face, that’s it.” I bit my lip and quickly walked back to my cubicle, setting the mug down hard. Tea sloshed over the side, and I silently cursed myself, mopping up the spill. 8

I glanced around to make sure nobody was watching and grabbed a small mirror from my purse. My cheek didn’t look too bad, just a little rough and pink despite the concealer. But something dark below the scrape caught my eye. “Fucking hell,” I grumbled, hunting in my bag for tweezers. More stray hairs popping up. I plucked out six of them, scouring my face for any more evidence of my monthly adventure. No other dark hairs, but I made a mental note to pick up a bottle of Nair later.9

I started up the computer, preparing myself for another day of monotony. Another day, always the same. The most exciting thing in the work day would be a printer jam or the smell of someone’s tuna sandwich wafting over the cubicle walls. 10

One of my coworkers had emailed us pictures of his new baby. It was a cute little kid, a pudgy boy wrapped in a green blanket, his eyes half-open. In another picture, the proud parents held the boy, my coworker’s arms around his wife and son. I sighed and closed the email. All my coworkers were married, except that gay guy in marketing and me. Most had kids. Even the girl who was four years younger than me got married last year. And here I was, nearly 28 and perpetually single. 11

It was my fault, really. I wasn’t even involved with the singles scene. And online dating was just too creepy and desperate for my tastes. Besides, anyone I dated would find out my secret eventually, and who knows how they’d react. Not to mention whether they’d want to have kids with someone like me. Could I even bear children in my condition?12

I opened up a spreadsheet, trying to concentrate on work and not lament my perpetual solitude. My last boyfriend had been a real douche anyway. 13

During my lunch break, I walked across the street to Bagelicious and bought myself a roast beef sandwich. It tasted a little dry, and the mayo didn’t help. It seemed overcooked to me, even though it was the same quality roast beef they’d always used. I usually craved meat, the rarer the better, around the full moon, and my taste buds hadn’t quite recovered yet.14

And to think, I used to be vegan. I was kind of a hippie in college, involved in all these environmental and social activism groups. Nothing that had even touched an animal went into this body for five years. I was a skinny girl with blond dreads, always on my high horse about animal and human rights, bitching at the world when the biggest problem in my life was not getting a D in biology. Everyone else in the world was so cruel, but not me. No, I’d never hurt a fly.15

I’d done more than hurt flies in the years since. Perhaps I had the blood of countless animals on my hands. After all, I had voraciously devoured a steak my first month after the attack and returned to my omnivorous ways, but I’d gotten over the guilt. After all, everyone has to eat, even carnivores. But it wasn’t the animals I ate that haunted me. 16

The lake near my house held more than just water, fish, and seaweed. Beneath the serene surface, where the sun shimmered on the ripples, my secrets lay among the mud. I had dropped heavy sacks of rocks and bones over the side of my canoe into the murky depths. 17

The first time I killed, it had been an accident. I had only been a werewolf for two months, and Adam had simply tied me to a tree in the woods outside his ranger station, where he could keep an eye on me. Somehow, I had broken free, and Adam said I chased him in his new car for a good half mile before giving up and loping back into the woods. He had painted over the scratches in the car door, and I paid for the broken window, but that wasn’t the only damage I did that night.18

I had woken up the next morning, with leaves, mud, and pine needles stuck to my skin. And blood. Dried blood covered my hands and chest. I stood, brushing the detritus from my body, and looked around. I could hear cars not too far away, and there was a trail of chunky red splotches leading away from me. I followed the trail, feeling sick to my stomach. Had I murdered Adam in my wolf state? I smelled the corpse before I saw it, already covered in flies. It had been torn apart and devoured, its flesh scattered under a large tree where I had apparently dragged it. 19

I shivered as I walked towards it, stepping on a chunk of gray-haired scalp. It wasn’t Adam, but it was still revolting. I fell to my knees and retched, purging myself of the meat I had consumed. I puked and wept, crawling away from the mess. I could see the highway through the trees. I crept towards the road, hoping nobody would see me. Staying behind a tree, I peered out at the road where cars whizzed by. 20

A sign told me there was a scenic overlook a quarter of a mile away. I knew that overlook. If I turned around and drove two miles, I could make it back to the ranger station. I didn’t know if Adam would be there, or if he was even alive, but I could look. In any case, I needed to wash, dress, and dispose of the remains, and at least I knew Adam was keeping my clothes at the station for me. 21

Another bloody trail led from the body in the direction of the scenic overlook. I followed it, seeing an empty car through the trees. As I walked closer, I saw that it was only a few feet from where the woods ended. A mangled purse and some fabric straps trailed away from the car into the woods. I picked up the purse, my hands shaking. 22

“I killed a little old lady,” I whispered to myself as I opened the wallet and stared at the drivers’ license photo. She had been a 76-year-old woman with gray hair, brown eyes, 5’3”, and had photos of her grandchildren and dogs nestled among her credit cards. The car keys lay on the gravel, near the passenger door. 23

Biting my lip, I rummaged in her purse to see what else I could find. Good, she kept wet wipes with her. I could at least wipe the blood from my face and hands. I tore open the packet and cleaned myself up, then picked up her keys and unlocked the car. 24

I loved little old ladies. They always kept extra sweaters, blankets, and hats in their cars. Sure, the pale pink cardigan with embroidered roses wasn’t my thing, but it was something. I put it on and wrapped a blanket around my waist. I was still dirty, with blood in my hair and mud and who knows what else caked under my fingernails, but I could take the car, drive it back to my house, and call Adam. He could help me figure out what to do with the woman’s body. 25

I whispered an apology to the dead woman as I started her car and pulled out of the parking lot. I sobbed as the burlap sack containing her remains and some heavy rocks splashed into the water, sinking to the bottom. Adam held me in the canoe, slowly rocking back and forth as I shook in fear and sorrow. We drove her car back to the overlook late at night, got out, and put it in drive. I jumped back and turned away as it plowed through the guard rail and disappeared over the edge. 26

A few seconds later, we heard a series of crashes, followed by a boom. A heat wave prickled my skin, and I shielded my face. Adam grabbed my wrist and nodded to me. “Let’s go,” he said. 27

I still remembered the old woman’s face, grinning back at me from her drivers’ license photo, and her mangled corpse in the woods. Adam had done most of the dirty work of collecting the bits and pieces and covering up the trails. He kept saying that it was an accident, that we’d find a better way. 28

It had been hard at first, going to work every morning pretending everything was hunky-dory and I was a perfectly normal young twentysomething. My family and friends were surprised that the militant vegan was suddenly ordering extra-rare steak, but I made up some excuse about a protein deficiency. But I adapted. I bought my first house and remodeled the basement, installing a jail cell door in an empty storage area. I kept the key outside the door so I could reach through the bars and let myself out in the morning. That had worked for two or three months. 29

I finished my sandwich and wiped my mouth. I felt my fingernails through the napkin and frowned. I’d have to trim them again. Like the stray hairs, they seemed to grow rapidly around the full moon. Throwing my trash away, I headed back to the office.30

By the time I got in my car to drive home, the sun was beginning to set over the tops of the buildings. After sitting through rush hour traffic for half an hour, I finally pulled into my garage. Darkness had fallen already, and a hint of snow dusted the grass. The moon shone over my house, a glowing orb in the sky. It was just beginning to wane but still looked full. I wondered how something so distant and beautiful could trigger such violent changes in me.31

I walked into my house and set my purse down. There were three new messages on my answering machine. I grabbed a can of beer and pressed play.32

“Hi Becky, it’s Melissa,” the first message said. I scowled. “Look, I know you’re at work right now, but when you get home, will you call me back and let me know if you’ve seen Adam lately? He was supposed to call me this morning, but he never did, and he didn’t answer when I called his cell phone. Thanks.”33

I rolled my eyes and pressed delete. Didn’t she have anything better to do than worry about missing one phone call? 34

“Hi, it’s me again,” the next message said. I glared at the machine, squeezing the beer can and leaving little dents in the sides. “I still haven’t heard from Adam. I’m going to drop Jacob off at my mom’s house and go see if he’s at work. Do you know why he’s acting like this?”35

“Because you’re an annoying bitch,” I mumbled.36

“Anyway, give me a call when you get home. I need your cell phone number. Bye!”37

I pressed delete again and took a big swig of beer. Like hell I’d give her my cell phone number. She’d just call me every five minutes whenever her precious Adam escaped her radar.38

“Becky, it’s Melissa,” the machine said. I slammed down the beer can, sloshing the counter. “I went to the ranger station, and this other guy was there. He said Adam worked a few hours this morning and then took off shortly before I came. But he didn’t call me! Look, if you know where he is…” 39

Delete.40

I wiped off the counter and finished the beer. Why was it so crucial for her to always know Adam’s whereabouts? Shouldn’t she be worrying about her kid instead? Poor little Jacob. I bet he’d have some serious emotional issues in a few years. 41

The phone rang. I gritted my teeth. I thought of just walking away and leaving it, but it was probably Melissa. And if I didn’t answer, she’d just keep calling and calling until she got through. It wasn’t like she even gave a rat’s ass about me, she only wanted to get to Adam through me. 42

“Hello?” I grumbled into the phone.43

“Becky! Oh good, you’re home!” I clenched my fist. Of course it was her. “Have you seen…”44

“No,” I said. “He’s not here.”45

“Oh,” she said. “Well, if you hear from him…”46

“I haven’t,” I said. 47

“Will you give me your…”48

“No,” I said. “I’m not allowed to make personal calls at work,” I lied. 49

“Can I have it anyway?”50

“Look, Melissa,” I said. “You’re not going to get to Adam through me. I don’t keep track of him the way you do, ok? It’s not going to kill you to not talk to him for one day. He’s probably just busy. He has a life outside of you, you know. I have to go, I just got back from work and I’m starving.”51

Click.52

“Ugh…” I groaned, reaching for another beer. I grabbed the Chinese delivery menu from its special place by the phone and walked into the living room. If Melissa called me one more time today, I swear, I’d kill her. 53

After dialing in my order, I called Adam. He picked up on the second ring.54

“Oh good, you’re not dead,” I said.55

He laughed. “Was Melissa stalking you too?”56

“Yeah,” I said. “God, I hate that bitch. Why don’t you pick up when she calls, anyway?”57

Adam sighed. “I can’t get any work done with her calling me and asking me where I am and what I’m doing and bla bla bla… I had paperwork to do, you know? And then she just kept calling, and I knew she’d just be mad, and I just don’t want to deal with her when she’s yelling and crying and accusing me of putting work before her.”58

“I don’t blame you,” I said. “I don’t know how you can put up with her even when she’s in a good mood.”59

“Becky, please, don’t get started on this…”60

“Fine,” I said. “Just call her already so she’ll quit harassing me.”61

He mumbled “ok, ok.”62

“Oh quit your moaning and grow some balls,” I said. “You brought this on yourself.”63

“Stop it. Just stop it,” he said, suddenly harsh. “Jeez, Becky, sometimes you’re just as bitchy as she is.”64

I bit my lip. “Look, I’m sorry. I just really care about you, and I’m sick of her jerking you around like a puppy on a leash.”65

“I know,” he said. “But stay out of it. I’ll talk to you later. Bye.” He hung up.66

I stormed back into the kitchen to put the phone back in the receiver. Stupid Melissa. Stupid, stupid Melissa. Adam and I had never argued about anything until she came into the picture. 67

I gritted my teeth, feeling tears well up in my eyes. I wasn’t the bitch. I was the innocent friend, always getting stomped on. She was the one who wrecked his car. I was the one who helped him out, and all I had to show for it was a disease that turned me into a furry psychopath every month. She was the manipulative, controlling cunt, and I was the one he snapped at. 68

I grabbed a tissue and leaned my forehead against the fridge, gasping and shaking. Calm down, I told myself. Someday, he’ll thank me. Someday, he’ll come to his senses and see what a siren she is. And then he’ll come crying to me, saying I was right all along, and he never should have dated her when what he really wanted was under his nose all along.69

I grinned, wiping my eyes. Yes, someday he’d understand. Someday.70

The doorbell rang, and I quickly wiped my face and grabbed my wallet. If anything could cheer me up, it was egg rolls.71