A Facinating Short Story - RED MOON

Red Moon Moon
By Lucia Baker
I stood out in the cold, damp
grass barefoot and felt the
tendrils of mist curl around me.
The lighthouse half a mile down
the beach flashed through the
fog every one and a half seconds
exactly. Last year it was one of
the last kerosene-lamp
lighthouses still used on the east
coast, but in May they changed it
to electric bulbs after someone
on a sailboat couldn't see it and
hit the rocks. He survived with
minor injuries, and it was later
found that he was drinking
when he wrecked. The lights
were changed anyway.
I listened to the waves crash
against those rocks a hundred
feet below. I was sitting on the
edge of the cliff five minutes
away from my house with my
feet hanging over the edge.
There was a fence that guarded
the edge of the cliff, but twenty
feet on either side of me the
owner of the land had gotten rid
of it. The neighbors had both
fenced him off.
I checked my watch. 11:11 P.M.
"Make a wish, Christina," my
grandpa would say if he were
here. Last I saw him, he was
within the white walls of St.
Mark's Hospital. He's now at the
intensive care unit. I don't know
what color the walls are. He'd
seen every single eclipse that
occurred in his life since he was
four. I didn't think he would see
this one, though.
"I wish Grandpa could see the
eclipse," I whispered.
Nothing happened. A breeze
barely stirred the fog. The sea
continued to breathe, regal and
calming. I looked up, but I
couldn't see even a glow where
the moon was through the mists.
The earth's shadow would be
moving across its silver face in an
hour. I knew I wouldn't see it
from the cliff. Grandpa was
twenty miles away. Maybe the sky
was clear there.
I saw a light, faint as a star, on
the horizon. A ship heading for
shore. I hope it appreciates the
electric lighthouse, I thought. I
stood up and walked back to my
house and got in the car. I didn't
have my license yet, but I could
drive well enough. Screw curfew.
I took the key out of the glove
compartment and started up the
car, hoping I didn't wake my dad.
The way to St. Mark's was pretty
easy to remember. It was mostly
a straight line.
After forty minutes, I pulled into
the hospital parking lot. It was
nearly empty. The building was
half dark. I went in and found
only one other person in the
lobby. The woman at the desk
looked up. "Can I help you, dear?"
"I'm here to visit Joe Schaffer, my
grandfather."
"And your name?"
"Christina Schaffer."
She rifled through some files,
then she made a phone call. "I'm
sorry, but visiting hours are
between ten and four," she said.
"I know, but I need to see him
now," I said.
"Do you have a good reason?"
I faltered. "It's the lunar eclipse
tonight."
"Yes..."
"I didn't think you'd understand.
Please, I need to be with him.
He's expecting me."
She hesitated. Then she sighed.
"Julie will show you to him. But
you can't be long."
"Thank you very much," I said.
"This means a lot." I followed
Julie, the nurse, to the second
floor, room twelve. She knocked
and opened the door. The walls
were white.
"Mr. Schaffer, are you awake?
Your granddaughter is here to
see you."
My grandpa looked at me and
grinned. He was propped up on
a small mountain of pillows, an IV
tube was stuck in his arm, and
an oxygen tank was by the side
of the bed, but he grinned. That's
my grandpa for you. I grinned
too.
"Call me when you're ready to
leave," the nurse said. "The
button is above Mr. Schaffer's
bed."
"I told you," my grandpa rasped
to the nurse, pausing for breath
between words. "My name is
Joe."
The nurse smiled and left.
"Grandpa!" I said as soon as she
was gone.
"Christina," he said. "What brings
you at this hour?"
"It's the eclipse tonight," I said.
"It was foggy at my house, so I
came here."
"Well, that's very nice, but I think
there's a small problem. Do you
see that overhead?" He pointed.
"That's called a ceiling. So unless
you brought you x-ray vision
goggles..."
I laughed. "But you know that
door down the hall? Out there's
called a balcony. No x-ray vision
required."
"Well, go right ahead, then.
Describe every detail for me. I'll
be here."
"But, grandpa..." I swallowed.
"The next eclipse isn't for
another year." I left the rest of
the sentence unspoken. The
doctor had given my grandpa
three months to live.
He nodded. "Well, tell you what. If
you go out on that balcony, climb
onto the roof, and cut a hole in it
right there, I'd love to." He
started coughing, and I was
worried until I realized he was
just laughing.
"No, I'm serious!" I insisted.
"Look, there's a wheelchair. I'll
just wheel you out. You've seen
every other eclipse in your life
since you were four, you've told
me a million times."
"They'll never let you do that.
Besides, these goddamned
wires-I'm part of the room now.
You go and see it, and come back
and tell me."
I paused. Then I sighed. I was
just being selfish. "You're
probably right. I just wish you
could come."
"I wish I could, too."
It was quiet for a moment. Then
my grandpa said, "That would
really be something."
I looked at him.
"Christina, you're right. Take me
there."
"What? Grandpa, you said
yourself-"
"I know, I know. But you know
what? I would rather be out
there than in here. And I'm going
to die either way. Bring the
wheelchair here."
"But..."
"It doesn't matter. Like I said, I'll
die hooked up to the room or
not."
"Are you sure? Grandpa, I can't."
"Of course you can. Please, take
me outside."
I stared at him for a long
moment. Then I checked my
watch. Midnight on the dot. I got
the wheelchair from against the
wall with shaking hands.
Grandpa Joe was slowly
disconnecting himself from the
tubes and wires. First was the IV.
Then the heart and breathing
monitors. Finally, he took the
oxygen tube off and set all the
loose ends on the bed. "I suspect
I'll have no further use for those.
Help me in."
I lifted him up and set him down
in the wheelchair. He'd become
so thin and shrunken, it was
hardly a challenge. "Thank you,"
he said. I smiled, but I was
trembling. What have I done?
The nurse would be coming back
soon. We'd have to get out
quickly. I wheeled him through
the door and into the deserted
hall. The balcony was down at
the end of it. I looked around
wordlessly and pushed him
towards the door. His head
drooped to one side. "You okay?"
I asked.
"Yeah," he said. There was
something in his voice-a note of
melancholy, maybe. But I also
heard excitement. I hoped it
would be worth it. The sound of
the wheels on the floor seemed
deafening in the silence of the
hospital. I walked faster and
hoped the nurse didn't catch us.
After what seemed like forever,
we reached the balcony door. I
pushed it open and let us
outside. The night was black as
pitch except for the light of the
moon. I could see the tiny edge
of a dark red shadow on the
moon's horizon. I sat down next
to my grandpa and heard him
gasp. He didn't say anything, but
his eyes shone. They almost
looked like the eyes of a child,
despite the wrinkled and
weathered face they belonged to.
The shadow slid serenely across
the moon until it looked like a
drop of blood in the sky. I looked
out towards the sea. The mist
was just visible on the shoreline.
Here the air was crystal clear.
Suddenly I heard my grandpa. His
breathing was fast. "Are you
alright?" I asked again.
"Yes, I'm just fine," he managed
to say. "Tell your dad I love him.
And tell him to tell you that I love
you, too."
"Tell them yourself," I said, but I
stopped. I held his thin hand
tightly. The shadow was nearly
gone from the moon. "Not yet..."
"Don't worry about me. Really."
He was breathing hard now, and
he closed his eyes. I stared. I
didn't think he would go so
soon. He looked like he was
sleeping now. I was startled at
how frail he looked. I laid my
head on his shoulder and saw a
tear fall on his neck. Mine.
"Don't cry," he said. "That's an
order." He grinned one last time.
Then I felt his hand go limp in
mine, and much too soon later
the little clouds of mist from his
breath stopped coming.
The shadow had just slipped off
the other side of the moon as I
wheeled him back to the room
and pushed the button above his
bed. Then I drove home and
passed the driveway and kept
driving until I reached the sea. I
parked and walked to the edge
of the cliff where there was no
fence.
I checked my watch. 2:17 A.M.
The fog had cleared, and I sat
down with my legs dangling over
the edge of the cliff. I looked at
the pearly white moon, and I let
my tears mingle with the sea
spray a hundred feet below.