Chapter 21: A Clear Warning

Garin stormed away, his head spinning. Fiancé? She had said he was just a family friend. The poisonous thoughts swirled through his mind as he pushed his way through the crowd. Willow’s cart was only a few feet ahead of him. He could confront her here, make her tell him what the hell was going on.
He couldn’t do that to her though and he just wasn’t that guy to cause a scene. He watched her serving cider to the crowd, a genuine smile on her face. He felt a pang of sorrow shoot through him. She looked so beautiful, her face red from the cold nip in the air. He wasn’t sure if he completely believed Lyall. He didn’t like the look of that guy and it didn’t make sense that Willow would lie about him. Then again, he barely knew her.
Her eyes met his over the heads of the crowd in line. A smile immediately stretched across her lips before she dampened it down. He looked at her sadly. It could have been something, he thought as he looked at her. She waved and he turned, but not before he saw her face fall.
As he walked away, he saw Lyall smirking, arms crossed as he leaned against the picnic table. Garin fought the urge to grab him by his neck. Lyall’s yellow eyes flashed the challenge in the streetlights above, an invitation. Garin snarled at him but kept walking. He just needed out of this damn town. He would leave tonight.
####
Willow’s heart fell as Garin turned. Maybe he had decided to call it off first. His eyes had looked so sad as he stared at her. It was just as well, she supposed. She was going to end it tonight anyways, but it just seemed sudden. Why didn’t he at least say anything to her? She sighed, thankful for the break in customers.
She scanned the crowd again for Garin, but he had been enveloped by the mass. Her eyes fell on Lyall, leaning against a picnic table, a dark grin on his face as he watched someone walk away. She followed his gaze and saw Garin’s retreating back. Lyall’s eyes flashed back to hers and he blew her a kiss.
He had told Garin something to make him leave. A small growl ripped from her lips, thankfully it was swallowed by the band as they began to play the tune that signaled that the parade was about to begin. The crowd began pushing away from the circle of food trucks and moving down the street to where the parade was going to start.
“We can start closing down now,” She said to Caitlin. “If you hurry, you can still make the parade.” Caitlin waved her off.
“The parade has never been my thing. I’ll take care of closing if you want to go.” She replied with a smile.
“Thanks. You can have the tips by the way,” Willow replied and pushed the overflowing jar towards her.
“You're the best boss!” Caitlin said and threw her arms around Willow’s neck. No patchouli today, Willow sniffed and hugged her.
“Yeah, yeah. Have a good night,” she said and tugged on her coat before stepping out into the night. She tried tracking Garin but there were so many others around that she couldn’t discern one person from the next. She weaved her way through the bodies, trying to find Garin. The crowd pushed her towards the parade.
She didn’t want to see it this year. All she cared about was finding Garin. She didn’t want to just leave things wherever they were. She at least wanted to end it as neatly as she could. Then she could grieve what they had and what they wouldn’t ever have.
Someone pushed her hard from behind and she stumbled forward, she was now on the edge of the curb, close to the parade. She couldn’t help getting swept up in the contagious joy and anticipation that the parade brought. Night had finally fallen, and the moon was now fully in the sky, fat and full. Even though she wasn’t at the mercy of the moon, it still called to her.
She felt it’s powerful pull pulsing deep inside of her, licking her insides with power. She was her strongest during the full moon, at the height of her strength. She lapped up the energy the white beams gave her, letting it fill her and push out any lingering thoughts about Garin. For now, trapped between the crowd at her back and the parade at her front, all she could do was watch.
The parade started as it always did, with a speech from the mayor. Willow tuned out his reedy voice. He gave the same soliloquy every year. Then came the elementary students, dressed in various fall-themed costumes. The kindergartners were always her favorite, dressed as little leaves as they danced clumsily down the road, enthusiastically hurling candy into the crowd.
She held her breath as the rest of the grades passed, knowing that the Women of the Moon portion was next. They were dancers from the small studio in town. Every year they put on a haunting interpretive dance performance, their graceful movements spelling out the history and lore of the town’s oldest and most interesting family. It just so happened to be Willow’s.
This year they were dressed in shimmery, sheer pearl gray robes over their white leotards. A violinist walked behind them, playing Beethoven's Moonlight Sonata. The women all wore their hair-free with no ornamentation, their faces bare of makeup. They twisted their bodies to the song, bending their figures to tell of the mysterious women who, lore had it, ran with wolves and danced under the full moon.
As the last note of the stanza rang out, Willow realized she had tears running down her face. It touched her deeply every year, but this year had hit a deeper, more profound chord. She clapped loudly with the rest of the crowd and turned, prepared to leave. Another group was coming down the road. That was odd, the dance was usually the last.
Curious she turned to see, and her heart froze. They walked slowly up the middle of the street, pounding drums. Her heartbeat in time to the ominous beat. It sounded as if they were screaming “doom, doom” with every stroke of the hammer.
She couldn’t see their faces, but she knew who would be under them. They wore long red robes, brushing the ground, their faces hidden beneath their hoods. Between them, they carried an ornately decorated scroll.
“Who’s afraid of the big bad wolf?” was painted, in blood-red, across it.