Like Moonlight on Water: Chapter 12
Reflection
If you’re just joining us…welcome! I’m releasing Like Moonlight on Water in installments—start here. My goal is to finish this novel this summer, so I’ll be releasing chapters twice a week from here ‘til the end. ✨ Paid subscribers will have full access to all chapters and receive the finished e-book.
Click here for the previous chapter in which Lila, Eileen, and Sal each struggle with identity and self-worth—and existential threats.
Reflection
Her eyes were a startling shade of blue. Brightened by an errant sunbeam from the westward-facing window, they were vivid and earnest—and unafraid. A monster from another world had attacked, and she sought its help still.
“Seriously, Sal. What’s the plan here?” she asked. “Do I keep a dream diary, or what?”
Memories of another diary, its pages kept blank, curled his fingers into fists. Madeline had not trusted him when he might have helped. Before more generations had been born. Before the world had continued its descent into…
Lila slapped his arm—and yowled at the shock.
“Jesus Christ!” She shook her hand and blew on her fingers. “That hurt!”
And he had thought he could feel no worse. He caught her wrist and pulsed his modulators to soothe the sting, releasing her as she raised her other hand.
“You will not be able to strike me again,” he said. “I would let you, if I could.” He thought of his promise to Adam, and an unwanted smile curved his lips. Adam could be counted on, if Sal ever found a way.
“Violence is never the answer,” she muttered. “I deserved that.”
He heard her molars click after the grudging admission, and again a smile pulled at his mouth. He did not feel happy. Did not find humor in any of this. He wanted to disconnect. To walk away and return in one hundred years or three, once everyone he had harmed was long gone. If this world still existed. And if it did not, then he would finally know if the hell that humans had concocted was real.
“Sal, don’t make me beg you.”
His eyes raised to hers again. Such a striking blue.
“Bad enough, I ticked off the alien overlords,” she grimaced. “I don’t want to grovel twice in one day.”
His head tilted as he detected Eileen’s voice amid the sounds of water and wind. Speaking with Adam via her phone. Full of derision for the Giver who would sacrifice her life if asked—and her soul if needed. All because of what Sal had done in a moment of weakness.
If only Madeline had died without calling out for him. If only he had not come.
“Her eyes were green as a child, but they darkened.” Shadowed from within.
“Whose eyes?” Lila seemed to feel a need to touch him, as if taming a wild beast. Though no beast in the wilds of this planet could do more harm than he—with far less than a touch.
“Madeline’s,” he said. Green like a new leaf backlit by the sun. Devil eyes, her father had called them. Sal had allowed him to live…another regret.
“Hey, I need you to focus,” Lila’s tone sharpened, but she stroked his forearm. Unafraid of the monstrous beast. “You can tell me about Mimi later—in fact, I have some questions. You know, in the spirit of full disclosure and all that…Sal?”
She tried to shake his arm, but he felt too tired to allow it to move.
“I am not a man or beast. I am a creature beyond both…”
“Yes, yes…aliens are superior and you’re ver—”
“I was created to enlighten. Have I told you that?”
“No, Sal. You haven’t. And I would love to hear about your test-tube childhood, really, I would. But right now, I need you to tell me what I’m supposed to do. While Eileen’s out of earshot. Got it? Sal!”
She snapped her fingers, and again his lips moved of their own volition. Upward like the seagull in her book.
“What’s wrong with you?” Lila’s frustration became worry. “Have you eaten anything today?”
No…no, he had not. And his modulators had been very…busy. Resurrecting dead tissue was not as simple as soothing a scalded hand.
“I am fine.” He used her favored phrase and felt the hollowness of the words.
Even starvation was not an option—not as long as Servants remained tasked with his well-being. But if they initiated Transition…
He pulled himself forward and sagged, elbows on his knees. Lila was already racing to the kitchen. She removed a carton from the refrigerator, and then was back and tipping soy milk into his mouth with quick, decisive movements. He drank deeply, taking the carton and draining it without a breath.
She knelt before him and swept his wet upper lip with a fingertip. “Better?”
The light was different now. The sun had dropped behind the trees. And he noticed Eileen’s heartbeats again, always a constant in the background, now quickening as she returned from the river.
“I need to tell you something.”
“Yeah, big guy, you do. Been saying that, haven’t I?” Her worry dissipated, though she made no effort to move.
He set the empty container on the floor and slowly raised his hands. She pulled back slightly, reflexively, but allowed him to cup her face.
“We only need the truth, Lila. Simply answer the questions I ask, when I ask them.” His thumbs dipped under her jawline to the hideous marks on her neck. “That is all the cooperation we need…for now.”
“For now?”
Her pulse thrummed like a single string on a fine violin. Music. He used to love human music. His fingers moved to the base of her skull, lifting and spreading to support her weight.
Her eyes narrowed, but she placed her hands on his knees. So trusting. How could she trust him after what he had done? And now, he had to do more. He had to tell her—show her—just how horrible he was.
“I murdered Aislyn Mason.”
I gasped, every muscle in my body contracting with anticipation even as those four words pierced the center of me. But then he was my center, glorious and wretched and fierce with a sorrow so profound that tears leaked from my eyes.
“Her fractals were erratic, and her abilities unstable. Modulators are the most effective means of amelioration.” She was much like you. But I did not protect her.
My body shuddered at his words, both silent and spoken.
“I obeyed instructions.” I will protect Eileen. “I am responsible for her death.”
My daughter’s heartbeat drummed inside us, and heat like a struck match scorched me—just for a moment—before he rushed on.
“Do you understand? Madeline’s ability was useful. She cooperated in identifying others, so she was allowed to…she earned favor among us.” Memories flooded me now—his memories—pulsing, flickering, faces, funerals, and worse. So much worse. She never fully trusted me. She knew I used her, just as I use you now.
Stop. I thought. Too much. My pupils were fixed and dilated; and blurry sweat ran down his face like rain on a window.
“We value children. We would never harm a child.” Aislyn was still a child. “Modulators are a gift. Bodies are healthier, and most minds are comforted by normalcy.” I should have refused. I should have tried another way.
A wave of his regret flooded my senses and I whimpered. Heard footsteps on the stairs through his ears, not mine.
“Most minds are comforted, but not all. Some become disordered. Psychotic. Suicidal.” Experiments. Hubris. The others are desperate. I knew the—
The door banged open and Eileen lunged across the back of the couch—but Sal’s reactions were faster. In a blur, he stood and snagged her mid-air, dumping her on the cushions while I puddled to the floor.
“We were just talking!” he bellowed down at her.
“I saw you through the window!” She tried to kick his chin and he batted her foot away.
“It’s fine! I’m fine!” I hauled myself up Sal’s legs.
“Are you kidding me?!” she screeched. “How stupid are you?!”
“Is she stupid or a coward?” Sal barked.
“Hey!” These are the choices? “You both need to calm down!”
Eileen pawed under the table where her phone had fallen.
“Come on,” I threw my hands up. “Don’t call Ad—”
“Why?” She jabbed at the screen. “If y’all were only talking, why can’t he know?”
“Honey, he doesn’t nee—”
She wriggled out of reach and turned to block me. “Cara? Why’d you answer? I need Adam.”
I glanced at Sal, who looked decidedly unsteady again.
“Because I do!” my daughter whined. “Sal’s done something to Mom and I—”
“Enough!” I pounced and snatched the phone. “Cara, I’m sorry! We’re fine, she just misunder—’”
Cara cut me off.
“He was just on the phone with her, Lila!” Her exasperation was sharp and accusing.
“I’m sorry, she’s just—”
“You know, this isn’t easy on anybody!” Her voice dulled as Traveler began crying in the background. “I’ll tell him she called. Again.”
“No, really! Don’t bother. But…while I’ve got you on the phone…um, congratulations?” Feeling as stupid as my child thought me, I fumbled at niceties. “Maureen told me you’re going to manage the new—”
“Yes. Thank you. I…I hope y’all have a nice evening.”
The call disconnected.
Southern manners. Where would we be without ‘em?
“You.” I pointed to Eileen. “Go wash up for dinner.” Noting her mottled red cheeks, I nodded. “Yes, you’re going to get a chance to say everything you want, and yes, I’m going to listen. But food first.”
I spun on my heel and by the time I opened the fridge, she’d obeyed. Shocker. Next, I tossed an apple at Sal. It landed beside him, but he didn’t move.
“Eat,” I commanded. “You’re no good to us like this.”
I washed my hands at the sink, then splashed cold water on my face. I couldn’t look at him. Couldn’t find tears. Couldn’t feel anger. Wanted to hate him. Wanted to scream. But felt…numb.
He’d killed Adam’s little sister.
I dried my face with a dishtowel and rubbed my throat. Less numb. I did it again, because pain felt better than nothing at all.
Her suicide was his fault.
Eileen is different for him, Lila.
How many others? How many children?
You felt his remorse…you know he wants to help.
“After dinner, you need to leave,” I told him.
The meal was a perfunctory affair. Eggs and cheese, my go-to ingredients, had been removed from the fridge when I wasn’t paying attention. No yogurt, either. Peanut butter on crackers and multiple cans of soup did what it needed to do. Filled our bellies, so he could get out of my sight.
Eileen, ever observant, watched us over her food, but said nothing. And Sal ate methodically, consuming what was put before him, bite by bite, until his plate and bowl were empty. Then he drank his orange juice and set the glass to the upper left of his dishes.
“Thank you for the meal.”
He stood, and I made eye contact. Even in the unflattering light cast from the kitchen bulbs, he was beautiful. Perfectly sculpted bones and muscles clad in golden-tan skin, with pink, full lips set on a flawless face. He was magnificent. Angelic. Inhuman.
“We’ll see you tomorrow,” I told him.
After he left, I deadbolted the door.
“What did he do?” Eileen asked.
I sat back down and pushed my half-empty soup bowl aside. The nausea was starting early tonight.
“He’s done a lot of things. He’s thousands of years old.”
“He told you something that made you mad?”
“I’m not mad. I’m not…anything.” The truth was all I could manage. I folded my arms on the table, and smoothed my features into what I hoped was an open expression. “So, I’m listening now. And I know you don’t want to use words like ‘stupid’ or ‘coward’…so take your time.”
Her head bent, and she fiddled with her spoon. “I didn’t mean it.”
“Then tell me what you do mean.”
She shrugged. I waited.
My stomach wasn’t as patient. Sour saliva pooled in my mouth, and I forced a swallow.
“I’ll listen when you’re ready. You should get to bed.” I started clearing the table, but she protested.
“It’s not even nine yet!”
“That’s fair.” I set the stacked dishes in front of her. “What I should have said was I need to be alone for a while. I’ll be on the porch.”
She grabbed my arm as I turned away, but I paused only long enough to bend for a brief hug.
“You know I love you.”
“I know,” she mumbled.
The night was humid and starless. The urge to vomit eased as I circled the dark porch. To the north, the sky glowed beneath heavy clouds—a sickly, pinkish hue from light pollution in the city—but to the east it was black and still. Folding my legs, I sank into the deepest shadows against the house.
Pebbles joined me, and tried to get in my lap.
“Did Sal send you?” I asked.
She mewed and nuzzled my side, trying to slide under my arm, but I got to my feet. She struggled a bit when I picked her up, but I cuddled her close and she purred. Then I carried her to the front door and dropped her in the house.
“Feed Pebbles, please.” I didn’t wait for a response before shutting the door again.
Drawn back to the darkness, I leaned over the railing, but my churning stomach continued to hold its meager meal. Small favors.
Sal would be back tomorrow, and I would help him. Help them. Child killers.
We were zoo animals to them. No, worse than that. Bacteria in a petri dish. Sickening, but useful. Sal had told me. Had shown me memories of wars and famine and worse…and I’d thought I understood. Had felt his sincerity and guilt and forgiven him. Liked him. Needed him.
What did that make me? At least Mimi had been too young to comprehend her role.
A fallen angel. That’s what she’d thought he was. A fallen angel who wanted to make things right again. But he’d used her. Because decades later—a blink of an eye for an ancient alien—he’d allowed Aislyn’s petri dish to be bleached and sanitized and shelved for another experiment.
Another experiment. This Aislyn had died…
Same age as Eileen, my subconscious whispered. He mourns for both, when he thinks I can’t hear.
Who?
Adam…he used to let me hold him while he cried.
I shook myself and pushed away from the railing.
This Aislyn had died, but an infinite number of others might be alive. Aislyns in worlds without aliens. Where it would be safe to find her. Maybe find others. I couldn’t be the only one—genetic lotteries just didn’t work that way. Presuming unexplained weirdness was genetic, of course. But hadn’t Sal told us as much after he came back? He’d said something about mitochondrial DNA after Eileen asked why the females in his family didn’t breed with…
Ugh! I started circling the house again. We were so secluded on our little road that we rarely bothered to cover the windows at night. Eileen was on the couch, doodling in her sketchbook, and Pebbles slept on the backrest behind her. As I watched, our cat flicked her ears and looked up at me. Was this how Sal watched us? Standing outside looking in?
Sal’s team was his family. A really shitty family, with a matriarch who clearly had a fondness for abusing her son as well as humans…but…family.
More like a cult of evil scientists and minions.
But Sal wasn’t evil. Or a mindless minion.
Pebbles yawned and settled back on her front paws.
I kept walking.
Chapter 13, “Direction” is next…