Under the Moon

I know something is wrong the second I walk through the front door. All the lights are on and the house is practically humming with nervous expectation. And when I hear an all-too-familiar tapping noise coming from the kitchen, I brace myself for the inevitable confrontation.

General MacArthur is awake. And, by the sound of it, none too happy.

Just great.

Trying my best to act as sober as possible, I walk slowly and steadily down the hall and into the fire. She’s waiting for me — sitting at the round, glass table, arms folded defensively over her chest and legs crossed so tightly I think she might actually be about to cut off the blood supply to her toes. Her red slipper is bouncing up and down restlessly, hitting the floor in a frantic drumbeat. And there’s a half-eaten, slowly soggifying bowl of Cheerios in front of her.

Crap, how long has she been waiting up?

“Where have you been, Lily?” Her voice is low — practically a growl.

I take a deep breath, hoping the answer won’t come out all slurry and drunk. Take it easy, Lily. Short and simple and she’ll never know.

“Out at a friend’s housh … house.”

General MacArthur actually smiles at that. “But you don’t have any friends, my dear.”

She has me there. I take another deep, sobering breath. “Well, I’m trying to change things up this year. Thought you’d be happy about that.”

Now, as you can probably imagine, all those sobering breaths aren’t such a smart idea. Because it doesn’t take long for the smell of my sins to blow straight over to Mom’s nose and rat me out.

“I can smell the alcohol on your breath from here,” she says, her thin nose wrinkling. “What have you been drinking?”

Shrug.

“I don’t know.”

“And is that smoke I smell on you?”

I have no choice but to full-out confess. Trust me, you’d have done the same thing in my shoes. Let’s face it, hiding the truth is just going to make it worse. Control freaks like my mother don’t handle lies very well — throws their perfect world way off axis.

“Okay, yeah, smoke and alcohol. It was a party. You’ve heard of those, right?”

She lets out a loud, gusty sigh. “Lily, you’re fifteen! Drinking and smoking are illegal at your age! Did you know that?”

“Yeah.”

Another sigh. At this rate, she’s going to hyperventilate. With any luck, maybe she’ll pass out. My left hand rises up behind my back and I secretly cross my fingers.

“In this condition, I just hope you weren’t anywhere near the water tonight.”

I shake my head, pushing the images of the lake and the pool out of my thoughts. She doesn’t have to know the whole truth, does she?

“So, what exactly were you thinking, young lady?”

I shrug to let her know I don’t care. To tell you the truth, for the first time in history I’m not really that scared of her. Guess when you’re facing imminent death by exhaustion, a yelling mother isn’t such a big deal. I mean, really — what can she possibly do to make my life any worse than it is? Demerit points?

“I just knew something was up when you got that phone message from that girl Emma. You know, some parents out there would call the police and let them press charges for a stunt like this. Maybe that would be the best way for you to learn a lesson about responsibility.”

WTF? Okay, so prison, on the other hand, is kinda scary. I stare at her closely, trying to figure out if she’s serious or not. She stares back at me, her eyes like stones.

“Come on, Mom.” My voice is pleading now. “Don’t tell me you waited until you were legal to have your first drink.”

She doesn’t even blink at that. Man! How is it possible that she and Aunt Su were even remotely related?

“Merde, Mom —”

“I understand French too, and there’s no call for swearing, young lady.” She pushes her half-eaten bowl of cereal at me. “Here, eat something.”

My stomach flops over at the sight of it.

“No, thanks.”

“Eat! It’ll help you metabolize that alcohol and save me the trouble of having to clean up the mess of vomit that’s surely coming.”

I’m about to refuse again when I remember what Dad said about her worrying. Something about how she only pushes food at me when she’s freaking out. My thoughts fly back to all those weekend days at the Docks when I was a little kid. She used to follow me into the ocean with food in her hands, pushing me to eat something when all I wanted to do was play in the waves. And all those days when she’d show up after my swimming lessons with a gallon of cookies in her purse. With a sigh, I sink into the nearest chair.

“Can I at least have something that’s not soggy?”

She stands up and walks slowly to the cupboards. When she comes back, she’s carrying a clean bowl, a spoon, and a Pyrex container filled with strawberries. I pop one in my mouth while General MacArthur fills my bowl with fresh Cheerios.

“I know it’s not the first time you’ve snuck out at night,” she says quietly, dropping into the seat beside me. I scoop a spoonful of cereal into my mouth and crunch. Right now, that’s the only answer she’s gonna get out of me.

“This behaviour isn’t at all like you, Lily,” she presses. “You haven’t been yourself since Su died.”

Hey, give the lady a prize! I shovel another spoonful into my mouth.

Her hand lands ever so gently on my back. “How’s your sleeping?”

Shrug. “Beachy keen.”

Exasperated mom sigh #3.

“So, want to tell me what’s going on?”

I shake my head so hard it almost throws the rest of me off balance. If Mom finds out I’m dying a slow death by exhaustion, she’ll come up with a drastic way to try and fix it. Like taking me to the hospital and demanding a medically induced coma or something insane like that. No, asking for her help is just asking for more trouble.

She stands up slowly, hands slipping into the pockets of her robe. Her lips are pressed together in a thin pink line. Just watch, this is the part where she loses it. My mother needs control and I’m flat out refusing to pass over the reins. Her nostrils flare with outrage. Okay, here it comes …

“I don’t think you’re leaving me much choice here, Lily. My job as your mother is to keep you safe. So I’m grounding you until further notice. There’ll be no more sneaking out at night.”

Her job as my mother? What, am I just some kind of work assignment? I force myself to swallow a mouthful of mashed-up Cheerios. “Fine. Whatever,” I mumble. Go ahead and try to stop me. I’ve still got a window, you know.

As if she’s reading my thoughts, Mom slides a perfectly manicured finger under my chin and raises my face up ’til I’m forced to meet her gaze.

“Just in case this conversation slips your mind, Lily — I’ll be installing a lock on your bedroom window first thing tomorrow. And another one on your bedroom door. To help you remember.”

A lock on my bedroom door? Just like when I was a toddler. I jerk my chin away. “Fine. Whatever.” There’s no sense arguing with her when she’s like this.

Mom’s eyes rake sideways across my body. “And what are you wearing? Did your father get you a new coat?”

Huh? I look down at myself.

Ben’s jean jacket.

“It’s much too big. Tell him to take it back and get you a smaller size. You’re almost sixteen, for goodness’ sake. Does that man really think you’re still growing?”

I close my eyes and pray for the room to stop spinning. “I don’t know …”

She heaves out an exasperated breath.

“Tell me, have you figured out what to do with those disgusting ashes yet?”

“Oh God, Mom, please don’t do this now …”

I can hear the sound of her fingers drumming on the tabletop. “You know, I stopped by her cabin today.”

My eyes pop open. Something about her voice is warning me to be on guard. “Yeah, so?”

Her slipper begins to pick up the frantic beat again (naturally, in perfect time with her tapping fingers). “So, I didn’t realize how decrepit that place had become,” she continues. “I mean, it’s leaning over like it might collapse any moment. And the inside is so musty and damp, I almost choked on the air. I’m afraid to find out what kind of toxic mould is growing behind those walls.”

I hold up a hand to make her stop. I think I’m having another one of those palpitations. My heart is fluttering so hard, it feels like there’s a hummingbird trapped inside my chest. “You’re exaggerating. It’s not that bad!”

“Oh, no?” she asks, her voice rising to a near screech. And her slipper is hammering the floor so hard, I’m sure she’s going to make a dent. “Well, then how about the marijuana plants growing all over the garden? Did you know about those? Your beloved aunt was practically running a grow-op out there!”

“Mom, don’t even …”

“First thing Monday morning, I’m going to speak to Mr. Duffy about having it condemned.”

My mouth falls open. “What are you talking about? The garden?”

“Don’t be stupid, Lily. I’m talking about the cabin. Every single thing about that place is a hazard. Not to mention illegal.”

I feel like my heart is trying to pound its way out of my body. Ignoring my spinning head, I push off from the table and somehow make it up to my feet. “You’ve got to be joking! You actually want to have her cabin torn down?”

Her head swivels back and forth on her skinny neck. “It’s not that I want to, Lily. I have to. Trust me, it should have been done years ago.”

Jeepers creepers! I want to shake her by the shoulders and demand she tell me where she buried her heart. “How can you even suggest this? That cabin was Aunt Su’s whole, entire world! Tearing it down would be like … like having her die all over again!”

“Lily, listen to me …”

“No!” I squeeze my eyes shut, blocking her out of my sight. I’m so angry, I can’t even stand to look at her. “You listen to me for once! That cabin belongs to me now! Do you understand? Me! Mr. Duffy even said so! And nobody’s going to touch it without my permission!”

Pushing back my chair, I rocket to my feet and bolt out of the kitchen before she can see the expression of complete and utter hatred on my face. I go straight upstairs, slip my arms out of the sleeves, and tuck Ben’s jean jacket under my pillow right next to Aunt Su’s drawing. The two things the EMS workers are going to find under my lifeless, exhausted body when they come to toe-tag me. The image brings a sickening wave of panic rolling through my stomach. My heart is still galloping like racehorse. But of course, it’s “nothing to worry about” — right Dr. V? I glance over at the pomegranate jar sitting on my desk. And then a horrible image of Aunt Su’s cabin getting bulldozed to the ground slithers through my thoughts. With a sob, I stagger to the bathroom and heave up a toiletful of Cheerios and tears.

This is day (night) nineteen without sleep.

I’m officially living on borrowed time.