The Waking Moon

Chapter Twenty

I stood on the porch shivering in the cold, my body broken and exhausted. The bell chimed through the house, but there was no sign of life inside for a few minutes. At last I heard the muted shuffling of approaching footsteps and Rhodes opened the door.

He was wearing old-fashioned trousers and a white undershirt. The suspenders hung off his hips in long loops, and his hair was messed up from one of his hats. He looked like he should’ve had a martini in his hand.

“Hey,” I said, trying to smile. “Sorry to just show up and all, but…”

He stared at me, stunned. “Jesus Christ!” he said. “Paulie…what…?”

I hadn’t seen a mirror, but I must’ve looked bad. A hand went self-consciously to my hair.

“Do you think I could come in?”

Before I’d even finished the sentence, Rhodes stepped onto the porch and swept me dramatically into his arms. He hurried inside and up the wide, polished wood staircase. I was too tired to protest, and so I let my body go limp, my head collapsing against his shoulder. He brought me into his room and lowered me gingerly onto the bed.

“Tell me what happened to you, Paulie,” he said, all levity gone from his voice. “Who did this to you? Do you want me to call the police?”

I had been thinking a lot about the police as I staggered along unfamiliar streets, following the freeway until I reached more familiar grounds. What would I tell them? I was kidnapped and taken to a house I’d never be able to find again, where a deranged rich guy with a melted face was hosting a bunch of dead kids? And who was I, anyway? The daughter of an imprisoned felon, a girl who was just suspended for fighting, who ended up in the hospital after wandering around The Ruins alone. It was clear to me that the police were not the answer.

“No,” I said. “I just need a place to be right now. Until I figure out what to do.”

“Where’s your dad?” he asked.

“Out of town.”

He nodded. “Whatever you need, Paulie. Whatever you need.” 

My teeth were chattering. I hugged my arms and looked up at him, feeling pathetic. “I need a shower. And a change of clothes.”

A rosy flush spread over his neck and ears. “My sister left a bunch of stuff when she went off to college. I’ll find something for you.”

Without another word, he whisked me back into his arms and headed for the adjoining bathroom. It was massive, with a Jacuzzi tub in the corner, and a standing shower with a glass door. A long marble counter was cluttered with shaving products and deodorant and scattered film magazines. The mirror was lined with vintage, sepia-toned pictures of topless women.

I caught a glimpse of my reflection and was surprised to see a bloody scab on my head and a nearly black bruise on my cheek. My hair was knotted and my face streaked with dirt. Rhodes lowered me onto the marble counter.

“What the hell?” He grabbed my hand and studied it. It had been hours since the pain had subsided. Now there was just the red swelling on my palm, purple fang marks at the center.

“What bit you?”

“A spider,” I said. “I should probably wash it. And I think my arm may be fractured.”

Rhodes held my hand open. I could feel him staring at me, waiting to catch my eye. He wanted me to let him in, to tell him everything. And a part of me wanted to. But what if he just thought I was crazy? I would lose the only friend I had in the world. Without him I had no place to go. So I just looked down at my hand impassively until he let it go.

“I heard you were suspended,” he said.

I laughed a little, realizing I’d forgotten all about it. School seemed so unimportant now. “Yeah.”

“They say you beat the shit out of Carrie Linde.” There was a slight smile on his face, and I could see he was on the verge of making a joke. But I looked up at him with such weariness, the smile vanished from his face.

“None of that matters anymore,” I muttered. 

Rhodes looked at me for a long time, his brow furrowed with concern.

“You’re in no condition to shower,” he said, moving across the room to the tub. He flipped the plug and turned on the water. “There’s a bathrobe on the back of the door, towels here. You’re limping. Do you need ice?”

“That would be great,” I said quietly.

“Have you eaten?”

I shook my head. Rhodes waited until the bath was full, and turned off the tap. I stood up and hobbled over. For a moment I just stared at the water, knowing that with the injured arm and swollen knee, I’d never be able to get undressed.

“Rhodes,” I said without looking at him. “I can’t use this arm. Can you help me?”

He blinked at me. “Help you…?”

I gestured at my clothes. “Take these off.”

He stared at me, trying to gauge whether or not I was kidding around. Then, he nodded quickly.

“Yeah,” he said with a casual shrug that was so forced I nearly smiled. He shuffled behind me, and then to the side, not knowing quite what to do. I pointed at my jeans.

“I can’t unbutton them.”

“Right,” he said, his voice going hoarse. His fingers fumbled with the stiff button for a while before he managed to unfasten it. “Should I…” He made a disrobing gesture, and I nodded. With great concentration, he slipped his fingers into the belt loops. I noticed that his hands were shaking. He turned his head respectfully and tugged until the pants slid down to my knees. I sat down on the edge of the tub.

“Be careful with this one,” I said, pointing to the hurt knee.

Rhodes glanced at it quickly, and nodded. His neck and ears had gone deep crimson, and he kept clearing his throat. Very slowly, he pulled off the jeans one leg at a time. The injured knee looked like a purple softball.

Rhodes smoothed my filthy jeans with his hands and draped them over the back of the chair as if they were an expensive ball gown. Then he came back to where I was sitting, his eyes fixed on the wall over my head.  I raised my arms, cringing with pain. Rhodes stooped and grabbed one side of the tee shirt in each hand. His cold fingers grazed the skin on my waist. Slowly, he pulled the shirt over my head. I was so embarrassed I closed my eyes, afraid to find him looking at me.

“So, should I…” Rhodes muttered between throat clearings. “Do you need me to…to undo the…”

“The bra. Yes.”

I kept my eyes closed and held my breath, as his fingers fumbled with the hook for what felt like an eternity. At last, the clasp sprung open. I clenched my arms tightly against my body to keep it in place.

“What about your….your…” Rhodes stammered.

“I got it from here,” I said quickly. “Thanks. You can go.”

“Yeah, okay.”

I heard him shuffle away, but I couldn’t bear to open my eyes until I heard the door click. Then I stood up and looked at myself in the mirror, checking the bruises and scrapes and swellings. I was such a wreck, my whole body looked foreign to me.

Without that person in the mirror, who in the hell are you?

I stared at my face. Green eyes. Freckled nose. Full mouth. It was all still there, and I was grateful. The truth was, I had no idea who I’d be without it. I hooked my right thumb into the waistband of my Green Lantern underwear and pulled and tugged until they were off. Then I stepped into the hot water, lowering myself slowly, grimacing as the scrapes and gashes were submerged.

Music drifted in from Rhodes’s room, an old Ella Fitzgerald record that reminded me of my mother. I listened and watched the steam rise, trying hard not to think about Chapel Bale, and how she’d never see her face in the mirror again.