The Call of the Full Moon

The Call of the Full Moon

“I've been thinking”, Dad said as he stuffed a fork full of roast and gravy into his mouth.

Everyone glanced up from their home cooked roast beef dinners, seeing his mouth was too full to continue, all went back to their own meals.

“This is juicy, Nadine. Very good,” Dad smiled in my direction. “As I was saying, I've been thinking.” he paused as he drank some milk.

A collective sigh surrounded the table. Chuckling, Dad wiped his milk moustache with a worn linen napkin. “I might be able to hold all of your attention for an hour this way, that might be a record.”

“Dear, what is it you have been thinking about?” Mom asked, mirth written across her face.

 “I believe we had started a tradition when we let Nadine taste her first beer at the roundup party when she was seventeen. Brady too. Norman turned seventeen two weeks ago so it must be his turn. Although I suspect he has already tried it.” Norman ducked his shaking head when Dad gave him the side eye. 

“The Stanley’s let Stewart have his first beer at the party last year. I guess we did start a tradition with Nadine. The annual party is a good place with family and friends around. We've been one big family with all five families living in this valley for the last sixty years.” Grabbing her empty plate Mom went to the sink to get the wash ready.

“OK, OK, there is a lot of thinking going around. I've been thinking. Well, more like wondering if anyone has thought of who we will toss off the bridge this year,” Norman piped up.

“Jess Stanley,” I suggested.

“Maryanne,” Brady said, still eating more mashed potatoes and gravy, the rest of us were clearing the table.

“How old is Maryanne? I know she is a good swimmer she's been swimming a lot this summer. I see her down at the swimming hole often.”  Approaching the table with a cloth Mom glanced at Norman. “I think the Arnason’s youngest could use a dunking.”Norman and Levi Arnason were constantly competing, and it was getting a little out of hand as of late.

 “Good choice, Mom,” Brady and Norman agreed together. 

“Marianne is fifteen,” I answered Mom. Most of the families had children near one of our ages. The Randall’s were a bit older and had no children but like loving aunt and uncle to everyone.

 The ranch houses were all built within a couple of miles of one another, some generations before us and the land spread out from there in every direction. I strongly believe there is no other place like it in the world.

Dad and Norman decided to shove each other playfully, Dad nearly split the tiny bit of milk left in his glass. Holding up his hand in a stop motion he drained the glass. Mom tusked him as she passed him and patted Norman on the cheek, “remember you're in the house.”

 “Right. You and me later,” Dad winked in his youngest direction.

Dad handed his empty glass to me, “your turn at dishes tonight.”

Heading to the sink with my dirty dishes I thought of all of the traditions, routines, things we did in habit. A lot of things materialized every year when the annual roundup party happened. All the ranchers who lived in the valley gathered together on the last weekend of September and celebrated. The next day the riders headed out to bring the cattle in from the range as it had been done the last sixty years. When the last cows were corralled, then everyone went for a dip in the swimming hole, and someone was tossed off the bridge in a deeper section of the creek downstream from the swimming hole. It was just the way things were.

Maybe this year we could start a new tradition. New things come and go but when a tradition starts it’s stuck. As I washed the dishes, I pondered on something new. The full moon was shining big and bright through the kitchen window begging me to go outside in its glow. I glanced at the kitchen table and saw no one was there, voices sounded from the living room. I had not even noticed when Brady brought his plate over.

The dishes washed and drying, the table and counters cleaned, the day was done. It was time to settle for the night.

 The moon's glowing brightness is so hypnotizing. I love full moons. I find it interesting how animals become restless. I can never get a good night sleep for three days while it's at its fullest. Never mind the beauty of it pulling our eyes to gaze into the light.  

I want to ride my bicycle in the moonlight! It is a wonder I have never considered this before. The need is too great to refuse.

 “Mom, Dad. I'm going for a bike ride down to the tree on the corner by the Randall 's driveway.” Everyone jumped as I rushed into the living room.

 “Right now?” Mom asked, a slightly shocked or maybe bemused expression set upon her features. 

“Yes!”

“Why are you breathing so fast? Dishwashing too hard on you?” Teased Norman, earning a frown from Mom.

Ignoring Norman, I continued on. I knew I had to do this. This was an idea that needed an action, at this moment when the moon was high in the sky and at its brightest.

“Keep your ears open.Be back before midnight. Don’t lose a glass runner while riding.”

“Thanks, Dad.”

“Are you sure? That’s nearly 2 1/2 miles ride in the dark.”

“Mom, it's OK. We’ve all ridden our bikes back and forth during the day. The moon is bright, and I'll take a flashlight, just in case.”

“Okay,” sighing she gave me a kiss on the cheek. She will worry until I'm home, even if I am twenty-one. It’s what moms do.

.

The beauty of the night envelops me in a warm breeze. It is surprisingly warm, and I love it. The caress of the air calms my excited nerves. I have never gone out for a bike ride alone in the dark. But it feels different. My skin is tingly. I feel as if I am embarking on a new direction in my life.

The random hoot of an owl or the call of the nighthawk carry through the darkness. The sweet-smelling grass fill my lungs, absolute heaven. This journey kicks my excitement higher. This is heaven on earth.

The largest fir tree in this valley stands before me, my destination. The tree must be eight feet through at the least. So large, old and it stands in the middle of the valley. Its presence is awe inspiring. The bark rough to my touch. I wonder at the past it has seen, the generations, the changes.

Crunching in the gravel carries over the stillness. Holding my breath, I listen, hoping it to be the steps of an animal that is not a predator. The crisp clink of the metal horseshoe let me know that there were a horse and rider coming down the dirt road towards me. The black figure of the two come into view, I lean against the tree trunk in relief. 

My heart gives a sudden flutter as awareness tickles my skin. Albert Walker, the only child of the family who live at the end of the valley. The 26-year-old handsome man, the most handsome man I have ever seen. He has been away at college for a few years, so I have not seen him for quite some time.

Staring at the man I notice he’s not wearing his usual cowboy stetson. His wavy hair curls over his collar, catching the blue moonlight.

The Pinto mare tossed her head as Albert reins her in.

“Hi Nadine.”

“Hi,” my voice so dry and raspy, apparently I kicked up some dust on the way and breathed it in.

The Pinto blows upon hearing my voice, not that I blame her. Reaching down he pets her neck, calming her instantly.

“Sorry, Penny. There’s a good girl,” Now my voice is normal. Nodding her head, she nickers back to me, recognizing my voice. All the horses know me, I am always there to pet them whenever I see them.

“Everything Okay?” Albert swings off the saddle, striding towards me in one sliding motion.

“Yes. I had to come out tonight. The full moon is so bright.”

“Same here. Kind of called me out here.”

“Yeah, kinda.” The full moon in its pull. I feel the same pull towards Albert.

“It's been a while,”we see say simultaneously.

Chuckling, he nudges are fir cone with his boot toe. I seem to be stuck to the tree. This feels like an important moment. Possibly a complete life changer.

“You are looking…well.” Penny snorted, no that was me. Well, I just snorted like a horse.

“Sorry. That didn't come out right, Nadine. I was thinking of you when I looked at the full moon. Of beautiful you.” Warm fingers are touching me, caressing my cheek, those fingers belong to Albert.

I know now I will always take a bicycle ride or maybe horseback ride in the full moon's glow. With Albert.