“Ain’t never burgled a haunted house, Patti Jo. Sure y’wanta do this?”
“I’m sure.”
“Looks all boarded up.”
“Yeah, but, see? The padlock on the door’s been broke. I hear tell it gets used now for high school beer parties. If you stumble over any bodies, don’t worry, it’s just probably drunken kids passed out.”
“I stumble over any bodies, little darlin’, and I’ll see ye later back at the Moon.”
“It all looks so empty and busted up I can’t hardly recognize it. But I remember you turn left here into the dining room and then left again. The stairs are off the kitchen. Shine your light a sec, Duke. Here, this way.”
“What a hole. Worse’n the swamp I never growed up in. I cain’t smell no beer, but them kids has been relievin’ theirselves wheresom-ever it’s took their fancy.”
“It’s so sad. Marcella’s family had to get by on so little, but her mama always kept a neat house in a old-fashioned way. Now everything seems like either broke up or stole. C’mon. Marcella’s bedroom is up here at the back, looking out over the porch roof and backyard. Marcella kept a flower patch down there. She talked to the flowers like they were little people.”
“What are we aimin’ t’find?”
“I don’t know. But I’m thinking maybe that little gold cross she always wore on a chain around her neck, the one I saw in my — Oh…!”
“Whew! Nuthin in here, Patti Jo. Only scribblin’ on the walls and a ole rotten matteress which the kids probly been usin’ fer their party games.”
“Her room was always so pretty. I just loved coming here. It’s like something worse has happened to her than her dying. I feel like crying.”
“This room has had a lotta rough traffic. You ain’t gonna find any gold necklace here, angel.”
“No…but shine your light over there under the radiator. There’s something…”
“Lemme see…no, it ain’t nuthin but a cheap plastic hair clasp.”
“That’s it, Duke! We’ve found it! It was one of her favorite things. Mine too! It’s filthy now and all scratched up, but it used to be shiny, and if you got close you could see your face in it but warped in a funny kinda scary way. It was like another world and we made up stories about it. Right here in this room! Sitting here on the floor, next to her bed! I think she must of been wearing that barrette in the dream, too. And I think I even saw a face in it…but not mine. Let’s take it to her, Duke.”
“Whoa! Tonight? I ain’t keen on dead a night graveyard romps, sweet cuz. Cain’t we save it fer daylight?”
“No, let’s do it and get it done. It’s what she wants, I know. Anyhow, the moon’s so bright tonight it’s almost like daytime. I’ve picked up some grass from that bad boy they call Moron. We can set on a tombstone and have us a party. C’mon, Duke. If you wanta have fun, come along with me…”
…
“It’s okay now, Duke. You’ve been a true pal. I’ll never forget it. Does your hand hurt?”
“Some. It’s swoll up a mite, but the weed’s helpin’. And this dead people party gits your mind off other things. Won’t throw another knuckleball for a while, though. Don’t know ifn I’ll be able to pluck a gittar right soon neither. Y’may hafta tape the pick to my finger splint.”
“I’ll do whatever you want me to, lover. I’m so grateful and proud. Nobody ever stood up for me like that before. You made me feel like a real person. And you did it with style. You really laid dumb Georgie out.”
“That pore mizzerbul joker was borned to be stood up’n knocked down. He ain’t even a number.”
“Those record company folks were helpful, too, shielding us and hustling us outa there when the place started popping. They were real nice.”
“Nice probly wasn’t on their minds. I think they was more like pertectin’ their proppity.”
“I guess that’s what we are now, all right. At least until they have a second listen and hear what noise I make and call singing. The Moon won’t likely want us back, though. They looked to be getting seriously trashed.”
“Sure, they’ll want us back. Trashin’ the Moon is like trashin’ trash: you probly cain’t tell the differnce. They ain’t never had such crowds, and ifn our songs take off, with that ‘Recorded Live at the Blue Moon Motel’ printed on all the labels, we’ll have put ’em on the map big time, and ole Will, too…hmm…damn if that don’t sound like a song title. ‘Trashin’ the Moon.’ Maybe I’ll git sumthin outa this crazy night after all.”
“I’m sorry I drug you into it, Duke. It is crazy. I know that. I’m crazy. But we made Marcella happy, so it was worth it.”
“Just on accounta you left a old plastic hair clasp over there on her grave?”
“No. That I honored her by completing the task she’d set me. It was like some of the stories we used to tell when looking into the barrette. You know, princess offered up as a bride, princes given weird tasks to win her hand and the kingdom, the need for a tittle of magic and a friendly helper to get the deed done — that sorta thing. We sometimes had cemeteries and unmarked graves in our stories, too. So I can see how she set all this up. It was her way of us playing together one last time…”
“Well, settin’ here in a paupers’ buryin’ ground under the hanged moon mongst the lonesome dead, jist the two of us, smokin’ reefers’n cuddlin’, is about as wild a party I been to since the wake fer Granpappy Rendine when his still blowed up, and I hate t’break it up, Patti Jo, but if the ole Blue Moon’s still standin’, we should oughta head back’n have us a beer outa the fridge’n move our cuddle twixt the sheets. I jist heerd a rooster soundin’ off over there.”
“Yeah, and we got a date in a few hours at a wedding, too. We’ll have to be up for that. I suppose all those rowdy boys’ll be there. One of them’s supposed to be the groom.”
“They’ll likely be too sick to stand, but ifn they start actin’ up, with my hand broke, you’ll hafta pertect me, lil darlin.”