When Lyric Met Limerick (A Novelette), Page 3

  “Even if it isn’t my name, you can still claim you knew me back when.”

  She chuckled, her eyes sparkling. Roughly twelve inches separated them. He watched her face, oblivious to everything except smiling red lips framing whiter-than-white teeth.

  “I might consider it.” Her smile spread wider. “If you tell me your real name.”

  “Not fair. Luna Raquelle isn’t your real name.”

  “It’s my stage name. But you already know my real name. I don’t go around hiding it.”

  “If you had my name, you would.” The words leapt out of his mouth before he could stop them.

  “Aha. Tell me your name, Declan Decker.”

  “Will you hang out with me?”

  An exasperated sigh. “Only if you tell me your name.”

  He was so close, he could see her pupils contracting and expanding.

  “Now tell me.”

  He gulped a deep breath. “It’s Howard.” He exhaled. “Howard McCreary.”

  “Really?” She stepped back and studied him. “You don’t look like a Howard.”

  “Tell me something I don’t know.”

  “It’s a distinguished name.”

  “So’s yours. It’s an awesome name.”

  “You’re too kind. My mother named me after the moon.”

  “Cool. Should I call you Moonbeam?”

  She rolled her eyes. “Hey, Mr. Songwriter, I know you can come up with something more original.”

  He thrust his thumb in the air. “You’re on. Oh, by the way, congratulations on making the finals. I’ll be back tomorrow.”

  “Will you now? Better pay admission.” She smirked.

  “What makes you think I didn’t pay?”

  She clasped his right hand. The caress of her thumb, soft as a spider web, tickled the back of his hand. “You don’t have a hand stamp.”

  “Hey, you’re good.”

  “In more ways than one.”

  “Good enough to win this whole thing?”

  “Absolutely.” She glanced at her watch, then turned and darted, as she’d done on stage, to a nearby doorway. “I need to go find my friend, Audria. She’s my ride.” Luna waved, and then disappeared.

  He stared after her. A cloud settled in his soul and chased away the moonbeam he’d been basking in.

  Chapter Four

  Howard lounged in the hallway after Day Two of the competition. Luna, in waiting mode until the winners’ announcement, stretched her arms high, hands clasped over her head, and smiled at him. “I owe you a new limerick.”

  He tried not to stare at the front of her yellow tee with glittery letters shouting In It To Win It. “How come you owe me a new limerick?”

  “Your name isn’t Declan. I want to give you one with your real name.” She reached down to her toes and grasped her ankles, then bent side-to-side several times. She peeked up at him like a coy deer. “I made it for you last night.”

  Straightening, she grabbed his arm and led him along the hallway. “If you don’t like it, I can toss it.”

  “But if I do, I don’t have another twenty for you.”

  “No problem, this one’s on me.” She stopped at a room crammed with hyper multi-colored and multi-sized bodies. “Wait here, okay?”

  She returned in moments, sporting a hopeful smile, carrying a framed cardboard, and held it out. He took it and read the red-inked words.

  “My new friend, Howard McCreary,

  Will strum his guitar till he’s bleary.

  If I tag along,

  He’ll sing me a song.

  For life without music is dreary.”

  She regarded him. “Does it work?”

  He lodged the cardboard under his arm and thrust two thumbs skyward. “It works, Luna Tunes.”

  She flashed perfect teeth at him. “Luna Tunes? You nailed me.”

  “I will sing you a song. After two limericks, you deserve one.”

  “Yes, I do.” She bobbed her head.

  “I’m going to call it ‘She’s An Oxymoron’.” He squeezed his knuckles, making a satisfying crack.

  “I’ll take that as a compliment.”

  He’d seen no trace of Brian. Had the other man even seen his girlfriend dance her energetic heart out to “Dancing Queen”? The irony of the song choice didn’t escape his notice. “Where’s Brian?”

  “He left when I told him I’d made other plans. But he’ll be back for the announcements.”

  “You did that for me?”

  She shrugged, glanced away, her face growing rosy. “What can I say? You’re a cute barrel of laughs.”

  He wanted to cheer. “You’re pretty amazing yourself.”

  They looked at each other. Seconds passed.

  His growling stomach broke the spell. A long, angry growl. Followed by her laughter. Doubled-over, knee-slapping laughter.

  He couldn’t help joining in. “Guess I should’ve eaten lunch, yeah?” Food had been the furthest thing from his mind all day. “Want to go get some dinner?”

  Still chuckling, she leaned her head to the side. “I have to be back in an hour.”

  “There’s a place across the street.” He pulled her out the door into the evening’s gentle warmth. The dinner rush hadn’t yet inundated the restaurant, and they snagged a booth and ordered within five minutes.

  “You know a lot about me by now.” He eyed her and fingered the saltshaker, breathed in the greasy-burger smell of the place. “But what about you?”

  She picked up a napkin and began folding it like an accordion. “What do you want to know?”

  “Everything. Tell me your dreams.”

  “Dreams as in aspirations, or the kind you have while sleeping?”

  He raised his brows. “Either. Both.”

  She set the napkin down, played with her hair. “I dream of being a famous dancer.” A faraway look glazed her eyes. “And I keep having this one particular dream. I’m suspended in the air, spinning. Like a ceiling fan.” She made a circular motion with her finger. “Afterward, I wake up feeling a natural high, but then it’s a big letdown when I realize, hey, in real life, I can’t do pirouettes in the air.”

  “You dream about air dancing.” He caught a hint of wonder in his tone.

  “You make it sound like air guitar.”

  “It doesn’t sound anything like air guitar.”

  “Do you do air guitar?”

  “Yep. Ever since I was a little guy.” And a whole lot of it in jail this week.

  They shared a smile. Howard made believe he saw promise and a future written in hers.

  A waitress brought their food. He picked up his burger and dug in, basking in the emotions which had been knocking him upside the heart since last Saturday.

  ***

  When the announcer revealed the scores an hour later, Howard grinned at the stranger next to him, as if Luna were already his. Luna Raquelle won second place in her category, losing by two points to a twenty-five-year-old from Portland. He remained sitting in the audience, reliving the moment Luna had left his side to meet up with Brian, trying to squelch the jealousy eating at his insides like battery acid.

  “Trust me,” she’d warned. “You don’t want him to see you with me.”

  And now, he was left to writhe through visions of Brian hugging Luna, Brian kissing Luna, Brian—

  He had to stop this.

  He unbent himself, exited the auditorium, and made his way backstage.

  Luna was wrapped in Brian’s embrace, and Howard hovered near the opposite wall, suffering in silence.

  Unable to help himself, he sidled closer.

  Luna caught sight of him over Brian’s shoulder, and her eyes widened. She shooed him away.

  Detecting something going on behind him, Brian released her. When he spotted Howard, an ugly scowl twisted his face—the scowl of a high school bully in the presence of a 90-pound weakling.

  Brian outweighed him by a good thirty pounds and stood at least four inches taller. And, jud
ging by his bulging shirt sleeves, he also boasted muscle-wrapped biceps.

  “You tryin’ to steal my girl?” Brian’s closed fist made a slow, menacing arc toward Howard’s face.

  “Not tryin’ to steal anybody’s girl.” Howard backed away, attempting to sound convincing.

  “Brian, don’t!” Luna screamed.

  The fist crashed into Howard’s nose. Pain reverberated through his skull and coursed out to his feet. His head bounced on the wall, intensifying the agony.

  Rough hands grabbed under his arms and dragged him down a long, isolated hall. All the while, Brian kept up a litany of curses. “You’re dead meat, man. You moved in on the wrong dude’s girl.”

  Howard hurled his own string of obscenities as he flailed, trying to free himself.

  Luna was nowhere to be seen. They reached an exit door. Loading Dock, said the sign. A desperate shout exploded out his mouth, but Brian only laughed, clearly enjoying Howard’s powerlessness.

  The cool night air cleared his head. He struggled to grip the concrete with his feet, but Brian dropped him facedown and landed a series of bone-crunching kicks on his ribcage. Each kick sent Howard closer to the edge of the deserted loading dock.

  The dock’s rim loomed inches away, and the first jolt of real fear quaked through him. The rim rose at least six feet off the ground. A drop that high wouldn’t kill a man, but could certainly do major damage, especially if he landed on his head.

  His palms scraped along the smooth cement while he grappled for something to hang on to. He gave a mighty yell, but it merely sailed into the empty night.

  With a final, rib-busting kick, Brian sent Howard flying over the edge.

  He landed on his side with a powerful thud. Stars danced in front of him, then faded into the blackness.

  Chapter Five

  Howard opened his eyes. An angel’s face floated above him, and he blinked, wanting to hold onto this dream. Or maybe he’d died and gone to heaven.

  The angel spoke in Luna’s voice. “Howard?” His vision cleared. Luna’s eyes bored into him, brows drawn together. He scanned the sterile room, a tiny, colorless room filled with medical equipment.

  He cursed and tried to sit up. “Yow!” He gasped, pain stealing any other words.

  She placed a firm hand on his chest. “No. You can’t get up yet.”

  “What the h—”

  “Shhh. You’ll be okay.”

  He peered at her. A deep red bruise marred the skin beneath her right eye. An angry red cut split her lower lip.

  “What happened to your face?”

  A nurse rushed over. “Howard?” Her face was kind yet firm. “How are you feeling?”

  He hurt all over, as if jail hadn’t inflicted enough pain. He shifted, trying to get comfortable.

  “Ow!” If he were the crying type, he’d be bawling by now.

  “You need something for the pain?”

  He nodded, grimacing and sucking in agonized breaths. The nurse left, and he surveyed Luna’s face again.

  “You gonna tell me what happened?”

  “You don’t remember?”

  “I remember what happened to me. Your lowlife boyfriend beat the living crap out of me. But what happened to you?”

  Luna’s eyes gleamed with unshed tears. Her voice dropped to a whisper. “He tried to beat the living daylights out of me, too. After he dragged you away, I ran to find a phone booth and called 911. Brian found me and punched me. I screamed for help. Then some guys jumped on him and subdued him. The cops came and hauled him away. Eventually an ambulance arrived too, but it took them awhile to find you.” She sniffed. “He broke your nose and several of your ribs.”

  “He broke my nose?”

  “Yeah.” She tilted her head. “But, you know, it gives you a tough look. You look like a real rocker now.” The sheen of tears dimmed, and she grinned. “It’s kind of sexy.”

  He didn’t care about sexy right now. Instead, he held out his hand. “They’re gonna put your ex on probation.” He closed his fingers over hers. “He’s gonna make it his mission to find you. Then, when he gets out of jail, he’ll hunt you down.”

  She winced. “I’ll be in a place where he’ll never find me.”

  “Where?”

  “At Audria’s aunt and uncle’s. Brian doesn’t know them. He’ll never find me there.”

  Worry seeped away, and he relaxed. “Let’s stay together, okay? I’ll make sure you’re safe.”

  She smiled and wrapped a shiny tress around her finger. “You’re my hero.” The smile faded, and she lifted her chin. “As long as you promise you’ll never do to me what Brian did.”

  “I promise. He punched you before?”

  Grimacing, she nodded. “Just one other time. I told him if he ever pulled it again, he’d be history.” She leaned over and planted a gentle kiss on Howard’s lips. Her hair tickled his cheek. “And now he’s history.”

  Howard reached up and embraced the back of her silky hair. Pain stabbed him, but he ignored it. He took his time as his eyes and hands roved over her face, caressing the cut on her lip with the lightest of touches. When they finally kissed, long and deep, he went spinning over the edge again. But this time he relished it.

  Chapter Six

  May 1984

  Howard’s bare toes wiggled in the sand like fingers kneading PlayDoh. Luna, ethereal in white, squeezed his hand. Beyond them, the sea churned. Overhead, gulls squawked their congratulations. He tried to focus on the woman minister’s words about the sacredness and meaning of marriage, but his heart and mind refused to cooperate.

  A ring for my lady, My lady in white.

  At Luna’s left stood Audria, teary-eyed and sniffling. On his right, Nils shifted from foot to foot. Despite today’s landmark occasion, Nils was antsy to get to their gig.

  A dream come true, e-ver-y night.

  He and Luna would make lots of yellow-haired, blue-eyed babies, starting tonight. He’d take them to Sunday school, be the best dad, the best husband, God had ever seen.

  Reverend Gladys’s next words drew him back into the moment. “Do you, Howard, take Luna to be your wife?”

  “I do.” He peeked at Luna, whose dreamy smile still trembled on her face.

  “Do you, Luna, take Howard—”

  “I do.”

  “You may kiss your bride.” He grabbed his wife, then dipped her backward and planted a wet kiss on her lips while the crowd whistled and catcalled.

  Don’t need no shoes or ten guitars—

  He finally pulled back, his hands cupping her face, his eyes holding hers. As they shared a smile filled with promise and a future, he forgot the crowd, the wet sand, the breaking waves.

  I got the sun, the moon, and the stars.

  THE END

  Dear Reader~

  I hope you enjoyed getting to know Howard and Luna as much as I did. If you did, would you consider telling the world about them by leaving a review on Amazon?

  You can also leave feedback and comments on my website, www.dawnvcahill.com, or send me an email at [email protected]. I love messages from my readers.

  If you’re asking yourself, Hey, I wonder whatever happened to Howard and Luna Tunes. Did they have a happy life together? Did he ever become famous? Then you’ll want to check out Book 1 of the Seattle Trilogy, Sapphire Secrets, which continues their story! Find out more here.

  I’ll be posting updates on my website, with regular giveaways and other fun stuff for subscribers. So sign up today.

  Thank you again.

  ~DVC~

  About the author:

  Dawn V. Cahill lives in the Pacific Northwest and can’t live without her morning frappuccino. With her background in journalism, she is the designated go-to person in her family for entertaining stories and poems. She wrote her first story at age five, and at age eight heard one of her stories read on a children’s radio program. Someday she plans to finish the novel she started at age eleven called Mitch And The Martians. She has written
 several newspaper articles and short stories, two Christian contemporary novels, and more limericks than she can count. Email her at [email protected], or find her on Facebook.