The Cleaner by Frank Zafiro

Author:Frank Zafiro
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Code 4 Press
Published: 2023-10-31T00:00:00+00:00

The Sign of the Burning Moon

2009

"Hell of a sight," Jess said. He gazed from the front porch at the rising moon. The orb shone white-hot on the eastern horizon behind grey clouds that filled the sky like dirty cotton.

Darryl took a pull of his Coors and grunted.

“Looks like the moon is on fire,” Jess said. “All them clouds is smoke rolling off the flames.”

“Ain’t you just the poet,” said Darryl. He chuckled into his beer bottle. “An Indian poet.”

Jess ignored the jibe. Darryl was mean, but mostly just ignorant. If it didn’t involve a woman, a truck or beer, Darryl couldn’t find the beauty in anything. And nothing made him feel guilty.

Jess saw the beauty in almost everything and correspondingly, pretty much everything wracked him with guilt.

“Moonrise like that,” Jess whispered, “it’s like God trying to tell the world something.”

“To hell with the world,” Darryl sneered. He took another long swig of the Coors, sighed and belched. “Anyway, God wants to tell me something, he can start with the lottery numbers.”

Jess took a sip of his beer while Darryl laughed at his own joke. He wondered for a moment why he drank the foul stuff. Wondered why he hung out with Darryl. Why he never told Darryl no, not even that night when they’d passed that girl hitch-hiking, and Darryl flashed his trademark grin at Jess and picked her up. He’d known what would happen, but he stood by and did nothing.

And now the moon was on fire for everyone to see. God’s way of crying out, of pointing a finger.

“Maybe it is a sign,” Jess whispered to himself, but Darryl heard him.

“Yeah, it’s a sign, all right,” he said, hurling his empty out into the yard. “A sign I need another beer.”

“I’ll get one.” Jess set his own bottle on the porch rail and stood. He walked inside the trailer. He paused beside the scarred white fridge. His eyes drifted to the rickety dining table against the wall. His gaze settled on the overflowing ashtray. Next to it lay a petite, gold keychain with a picture of the Space Needle dangling from the opposite end. He wondered if she’d been from Seattle or if she had only visited there. He hoped it had been her home. It bothered him to think that her memento had become Darryl’s.

It bothered him to think that the key chain was all that was left of her.

Guilt washed over him every time he saw Darryl finger that keychain, a faraway look in his eye.

Jess looked away in shame. He reached for the fridge door with a shaking hand. Maybe he needed to have another one, too.

“Hey ho, Tonto!” Darryl called from the porch. “Where’s that brew?”

Jess paused.

“Better hurry up before you miss some other sign,” Darryl snickered, affecting an accent. “That’d be mighty bad medicine.”

Jess lowered his hand.

The moon is burning, for all to see.

He moved away from the fridge. His eyes fell on the keychain as he lifted the phone. His hands did not shake as he dialed 911.

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