Chapter 2
J ericho
Unlocking a new house one now owns is a thing everyone should experience in their life.
I lived with my parents before I got into troubles, after that I was either renting or living in a trailer on work sites.
Either is fine, but having something you can call your own gives a new perspective on life.
At thirty-four years old, this is exactly what I need.
After a thorough walk-through, I mark all the things that need to be done. Cleaning the primary bedroom and bath being the priority because I’m planning to have my first guest very soon. It’s eleven a.m., and I’ve got a lot of ground to cover before the evening.
By the time I’m done, I’m a sweaty mess.
After a quick shower, I find Hot Pockets I purchased at a gas station on the way here and throw them into an ancient, yellow microwave.
Surprisingly, it still works. Making a mental note to do some grocery shopping and figure out the nearest pizza joint, I grab the food and fall into an old chair that came with the house .
It’s almost midnight, and this is only my second meal today since my morning coffee and ham and Swiss sandwich. I tend to get hangry, so the lack of people is very fortunate right now.
Right when I’m about to take a bite, my phone rings.
“Yeah,” I sigh tiredly when I press Accept .
“How is the new place, bro? Already scare all the old ladies in the vicinity?” My brother Jethro chuckles at his unfunny joke.
It happened only once. I was wearing boxers and had an axe in my hands.
It was dark, and I was chopping wood for the fire because it was late November, and it was freezing.
We were building a house in the middle of nowhere Vermont, so I’m not sure where that old lady appeared from.
When she saw me yielding that axe, she shrieked and fainted which should have been my reaction, not hers.
We had to call an ambulance for her. I mean, I’m no small guy, and I guess the axe didn’t help, but that reaction was overdramatic.
My brother likes bringing up this story as some sort of permanent punishment.
“How’s Junie?” I ask, ignoring his jab.
“Adjusting. Somewhat.”
“She’ll be fine.”
“I know. I just wish it was faster. Speaking of faster. Are you sure you didn’t jump into buying that house too quickly? And staying so close? Still in Maine?”
“It’s home, Jethro. Always has been.” Even if it doesn’t feel like one quite yet. “I’m not leaving.”
“Yeah. You shouldn’t.” His heavy sigh is loud enough for Canada to hear. He’s not over it . Even when I am.
“The realtor told me everyone is nice here.” I reroute our conversation from the place neither of us wants to be.
A snort. “Of course he did. He needed to sell the place.”
“No, man. It’s really quiet here.” I take a deep breath in. “Very peac?—”
A loud thunk outside stops me mid-word .
“What?”
“Hold on, Jethro. I’ll call you back.”
“Wha—”
I don’t let him finish and hang up because I see… a ghost in my backyard. A figure in a white sheet crosses the yard and drops said sheet to reveal an equally white naked body.
What the actual ? —
I run to the back, down the staircase, and outside just to come to a screeching stop.
There’s someone there, all right. But it’s not a ghost. A woman with long, red hair covering her completely bare back, but not long enough to cover her naked ass, is standing in my yard.
She places the sheet she had wrapped around her body on the ground.
Her pale skin glows nearly translucent under the bright moonlight.
As I’m preparing to scold whoever she is, the woman bends over to spread something that looks like a blanket on the ground, fixing the corners. While she’s naked.
What is happening?
I stride toward the intruder who is in my backyard—my backyard with a six-foot fence around the perimeter. By the time I’m out my door and running toward her, she’s already sitting on the ground with legs crossed. Her arms are raised in the air, her head thrown back.
“What are you doing here?” I bark when I’m about twenty feet away from her.
She shrieks, jumping in the air and pulling her long hair over her chest. Thank fuck because I don’t need to be accused of something I didn’t do while this looney is the one who should be charged with indecent exposure on my property.
“Who are you?” she cries out.
“Me?” I circle her figure, still sitting on the ground, and come to face her.
She lifts up her knees to her chest and crisscrosses her feet, taking a pose of a sitting embryo. Her hair covers her like a blanket. It’s long and lush, so it covers enough for me not to have to avert my eyes.
“Yes, you.” Her chin goes up. “What are you doing here?”
“I live here,” I reply, pouring as much poison into my voice as I can. So much for spending the first night in my new house peacefully.
“Here?” Her right red brow goes up, and I wonder if it’s her real hair color. On cue, without being able to control it, my gaze drops down. Her now both raised brows are a clear indication that she’s noticed. “You pervert!” she yells, pulling all her hair to her front.
“Me?” I yell back. “You’re the one sitting buck naked in my backyard. Put the damn sheet back on.” My finger points at the white pile by her side.
“I can’t!” For some reason, she’s yelling too. Somehow, in the span of a minute, this whole situation has turned into a yelling match.
“Why?” I match her volume.
“Because I need the moonlight to touch my bare skin at midnight,” she explains in an arrogant tone, like this knowledge is so common only idiots are not aware of it. Which is me, I am the idiot .
I rear back, stunned. “This can’t be happening,” I mumble, shaking my head, then add louder, “Go to a different place.”
“I can’t. I’ve planted peaches in my backyard,” she nods at the only neighboring house hidden behind a very tall fence, “and they cover the sky now.”
Pinching the bridge of my nose, I take a few deep, calming breaths. “Why did you plant the damn peaches if you knew they’d cover your yard?” I find myself asking without even wanting to know the answer.
“Because they are peaches.” Her bare shoulder shrugs, moving the hair a little and exposing more of her skin. A dangling necklace with a long, pink stone between her… well, breasts… moves to the right, distracting me from yelling.
Dropping my hand down, I stare at her. “Is that your house?” Please, tell me you’re renting it and planning on moving out. Jonah said I have sweet neighbors, and this does not constitute as ‘sweet.’
“Been in my family for generations,” she explains proudly. “As it will remain for many more to come.”
I turn away, placing my hands on my hips. I lift my head to the sky and ask the universe why this is happening to me because I’ve already paid my dues.
After calming down a little, I turn back to her. “I bought this house. It’s mine now. You can’t come here.”
“When?” she asks with narrowed eyes.
“Never!” I explode. “You can come here never.”
“No,” she replies, annoyed. “I mean when did you buy the house?”
“Today. It’s my property now, and you need to be off it,” I explain, rapidly losing patience.
She glances at the sky before returning her gaze back to me. “Can’t do.”
I choke on the air from aggravation. “What do you mean can’t do ? Just get on your feet and remove yourself from my yard before I do it.”
Her brow quirks up with something one might call an open challenge. “It’s the full moon today. And I need to soak in all the wisdom at midnight.” Then she adds with a smirk, “Here.”
I blink. “Soak in the wisdom?” She’s even crazier than I initially thought.
“Yes.” She spreads her arms wide, revealing the milky globe of her tit and making me avert my eyes this time. The woman is an intruder on my property, and somehow I’m the one ashamed. “The moon is most powerful at midnight.”
I watch her, slowly blinking, hoping she’ll disappear after my eyes open.
She doesn’t, so I just squeeze them tighter every time.
Maybe I’m dreaming due to exhaustion, and all of this is just a nightmare.
But she’s still here, sitting on the unkept lawn.
The grass surrounding her helps to cover some of her legs—at least that helps.
“You need to go back to your place and soak in the wisdom there.”
“No can do.” She shrugs. “No moon there.”
“It’s everywhere,” I deadpan.
“She’s better here.” She points at the sky. “See? The brightness reaches here. She talks.”
I blink again.
“She?”
“The moon.”
“The moon talks?”
She nods.
“What is it saying?” I ask, playing right into the trap.
“She. And it’s a lot.” She lifts her finger in the air and adds thoughtfully as if she were a hundred-year-old shaman from the high mountains. “Only if one listens.”
I blink some more and, after a forceful shake of my head, tell her, “You need to go.”
It’s her turn to blink slowly, drawing my attention to her eyes and her big eyelashes throwing long shadows on her cheeks. “I will go when the ritual is done.”
“I know I’m going to regret asking, but what ritual?”
She watches me like I’m the one with a few screws loose. “Soa-king up th-th-the mooooon,” she explains, drawing out the words.
My eye twitches. “Go soak it up in your backyard.”
“Can’t do.” She shrugs, moving her hair again and revealing even more of her skin, which is covered in goosebumps. I notice that part. Along with her other parts reacting to the cold of an early September night. “It’s almost midnight, and I don’t have time to look for another place.”
“You need to go,” I growl. “Now.”