Printer-friendly version

Blue Moon 6.1

by Donna Lamb

Richard pulled the limo down the hill into the tree-shaded lane beside the three-story house on Via Buena Vista. Behind the house, the lane turned and widened into the apron of a two-car garage set well below the level of the street out front. The house and garage were both a pale shade of gray-blue with darker trim. The roof of the garage supported a second story deck for the upper floors of the house and there looked to be a narrow patio on the far side of the garage. A backyard full of fescue and blue grass continued down the hill, with a short steep portion eased by stone-inlaid steps, to a small building and a pool. Lemon trees shaded the lawn and an eight-foot high redwood fence covered in something leafy and green kept the neighbors out.

"Jo," said Richard. "I think you're rich." He opened the door and started around the limo to get hers.

Jo surprised both of them by bursting into tears when Richard opened the door. She hadn't even unfastened her belt. He stood there considering why she might be crying. "Too much?" he asked.

"Uh huh." Jo nodded,wiping her eyes with the heels of her hand. Richard tucked her sunglasses into her purse, handed it to her and pointed out the box of tissues set in the under dash. She used one to blow her nose. "I don't know why I have to cry about it, b-but three hours ago, I didn't even own any clothes! And if you say anything about hormones, I'll p-punch you in the b-b-gonads." She tried to get out without opening the seat belt and nearly submarined herself under the dash.

Richard didn't laugh but just gave her a hand to pull herself up then helped her out and shut the door. "Thanks," said Jo. She didn't let go of his hand for a moment, it felt good to hold onto someone. Besides, a mini-dress in January might be possible in California but it wasn't the warmest thing to be wearing. She had goosebumps on her arms. Richard retrieved a hip-length leather coat from the trunk and offered it. "Thanks," she said again, thinking he deserved more for being so -- thoughtful. He held the coat for her, she slipped it on and stuffed the small purse in one of the pockets.

Through windows beside the garage, they could see a long room, almost the width of the house, lined with books with a pool table at one end, a big screen TV at the other and an upright piano between. "Family room," said Richard. "You play piano, don't you?" Somehow, they were holding hands again. Both pretended not to notice.

"A little. How do w-we get in? I don't have a key." She squeezed his hand a moment for reassurance. This is scaring the heck out of me, she thought. It's like a haunted house.

Richard didn't want to let her hand go either, though he couldn't exactly say why. Melody Jo somehow seemed more real than a girl named Jo who used to be his roommate, Joel. Still holding hands, they looked for the spare key they figured had to be there. Richard finally found it in a magnetic case on the hood above the light on the pool house. Jo giggled. "Good p-place to hide it," Jo said.

"I dunno, we found it, so could a burglar."

Walking back up to the house, Jo pulled her hand free from Richard's, blushing a bit. Richard pretended not to mind. He let her go up the little yard steps first, admiring her slender legs.

The key didn't open the pool house or the garage but did open the patio door to the family room. They tiptoed in, feeling like burglars. Jo flicked on lights, the back of the house, being on the north-facing slope of a canyon, didn't get much light from the winter sun. Richard opened the door to the garage. "I want to see the Cooper, if it's here."

"If it isn't do I report it stolen?" asked Jo.

Richard flicked more lights and laughed, then stood out of the way for Jo to see. In the nearer stall, just past two doors in a narrow hall, sat a nearly new Mini Cooper.

"It's p-pink!" Jo protested.

"It's got a white roof," said Richard.

"I didn't even know they came in p-pink!"

"You must have had it specially painted."

"I did not!"

"Well, Melody did. If you won't drive it, I will. It's got a turbo, too. That's not standard either."

"The thing on the hood?"

"Through the hood, yeah. You could get these with a supercharger from the factory but somebody put a turbo kit on instead."

"Turbocharger?"

"Yeah. You want me to explain the difference?"

"No," said Jo. "Let's look at the rest of the house." Not knowing about cars made her feel very girly just then, but after all, Richard drove for a living. "What time is it?"

"I've got about an hour," said Richard. Time enough to find the bedrooms, he didn't say.

The rest of the lower floor turned out to be a laundry room, a wine cellar, some storage and a small bedroom partly filled with the sort of junk that accumulates in such unused places. "Maid's room, maybe," said Richard.

Jo paused to flip up the keyboard cover on the piano and play a one-handed arpeggio. "Seems to be in tune,"she said, pleased. She flipped the cover back down. "Let's go upstairs, got to find some keys somewhere."

Richard flipped the cover back up, and standing there, played a familiar pounding chorus. He sang, "Goodness gracious! Great Ball of Fire!" Then he spun away from the piano and stopped, grinning at Jo.

She laughed. "You look more like Elvis than Little Richard."

"Little Richard? That's Jerry Lee Lewis!"

"Yes, but you're Richard. I forgot you said you used to be in a b-band."

He grinned at her. "You really think I look like Elvis?"

She moved her head in a gesture that meant never mind. "Why did you quit? That wasn't bad."

He flipped the keyboard cover back down. "Too much drugs in that scene, our lead guitarist O.D.'d."

"I'm sorry," she touched his arm. "I played in a band in high school, but mostly I did the tech stuff. We weren't very good."

"What did you play?"

"Uh, keyboards. You?"

"Drums, mostly, but keyboards or rhythm guitar when I sang." He looked back at the piano. "Keyboards, huh? So you're pretty good?"

She shook her head, smiling. "Let's see what's upstairs." She turned and started up the steps.

Richard followed, admiring the view. "I really do want to see your bedroom."

"M-melody's bedroom, you mean. Don't get any w-wild ideas." She reached behind her to tug her skirt down.

* * *

In a vehicle somewhere between Hell and Heaven, the Devil in Drag snarled, "Exotic dancer! Nude model!"

Ted the Clarence responded. "Classical pianist," he said, his voice calm.

"Oh, come on! Where's the opportunity for sin in that?"

"You're trying to arrange history, not opportunity. There'll be none of that."

Sophie chewed a fingernail, a bad habit she'd picked up back in Egypt.

"Can we compromise?" she suggested.

"A bargain with the devil? I think not."

"Oh, c'mon, Ted. You've won some points, how am I supposed to tempt them if I'm not allowed a few temptations?"

Ted sighed. "No more cheating," he warned.

"All right! Thanks, Clarence, you're a sweetie."

"Oh, barf!"