Farewell, Moon
Rose had made another necklace at jewelry class. This time, she gave it to Collette: a Uruguayan coin and two Civil War beads (whatever that meant) strung on twine. Collette turned it into a bracelet.
It would be a night for a total lunar eclipse.
Puck spent the majority of his time on the floor that day, genuinely crawling. He finally realized that the army crawl was not getting him any place faster.
Meanwhile, new paint was slowly covering the basement walls, what was called: “manilla” on the top, and “toasted coconut” on the bottom. Collette helped when she could, mostly with trim work. Carrie preferred to use the roller.
Back at home later that afternoon, Collette finally got out Puck’s pistol and belt, a baby-sized version which Grandma Combs and Mom had bought for him in Dallas over New Years’. Once the little cowboy gun was in his hands, he wouldn’t let it go for anything. He then decided that chewing on the holster was a good idea, and he smacked his lips over the leather flavoring. Once he later lost interest, he raided his toy box, throwing things behind him as he dug through it, occasionally sitting back on his haunches and bouncing to the tunes of “Bare Necessities” from Collette’s laptop. His attentions finally turned to examining the contents of the giant computer box which had arrived the day before with OLeif’s very new Mac Pro.
OLeif came home from work, puffing from the cold of riding his bike. He had been sneaking extra oranges to work, which looked more like grapefruits on the inside, they were so red.
“They love the oranges,” he said. “I’ve been taking an extra one every day and sharing them with the guys. This time Alfonso got it. He just let it sit on his desk for hours at first and smelled it every once in awhile.”
Rose showed up later with her gear and dinner to keep an eye on Puck and the house while OLeif and Collette headed off for church. Mom was all ready to finish instructing the dance for the show Sunday evening. Scott Hamilton Pie was easily distracted from learning his part, by the ever-shadowing moon in the heavens.
“Alright, everyone!” Mom called. “Places! Places!”
Scott Hamilton was over at the window singing something about the moon and darkness.
“Should we howl at it?” Atticus asked.
Susie had taken a spill toward the end of the last set. Pablo was shuffling around between the line and the window to check on the stage of the moon.
As they left, OLeif answered his phone.
“This number called me. I didn’t get it in time, and when I hit redial, it says it’s not a valid number.”
“It’s the moon calling you,” Collette told him.
The shadows were drawing covers across its face, and soon, it was nearly full-enveloped in grayish garbs, but not enough to drown its pervasive light.