Blood on the moon


The room that had been so dark with smoke that night not so long ago was now bright with electricity. Behind her, Bella and Karita were obsessing over their appearance. Ariella came in to ask to borrow something-or-other, and before long Carmine joined the fray. The hum of their innocent chatter was calming to Sugar, and while she never liked to talk herself, she enjoyed listening to others.

The room had been renovated to look better than before. Harold, who had felt guilty, had repapered the entire room in a pretty, lilac-spangled print.

Sugar had been feeling melancholy the first day back, and had walked around the room trailing her fingers over the fresh paper again and again until Karita and Bella finally got irritated and asked her to stop.

Sugar had stopped where she was, leaving her fingers where they were. She asked them in a breathy tone if they had ever thought that the lilacs on the paper would remain in the room long after they were gone.

Karita and Bella had exchanged worried glances. Bella had opened her mouth to speak, but in a gardenia-scented whirl came Carmine and Ariella filled with chatter and amiability.

That had been the week before, but Sugar could not shake the strange feeling that had lingered in her very bones since the fire. A dreading sense that filled her every time she looked at her dear friends who were so like her sisters. Charming Bella and sweet Ariella, darling Karita and caring Carmine- how would she be able to survive without them? They always swore that if anything were to happen, they would take care of her, but Sugar was still unsure. Everytime she grew anxious she asked herself why, but the answer would not come.

The dread flooded up in her chest the worst whenever she saw Satine. Harold had announced the coming of a Duke, and the whole Moulin, especially Satine, was in a flurry of excitement. While it seemed that everyone enjoyed the commotion, Sugar couldn't help feeling as though she were trapped in a vortex that would consume them all.

Earlier that day Bella had asked Sugar if she would let her do her hair, and Sugar had agreed. The elaborate hairstyle that had been achieved through a collaboration of Bella and Karita was beautiful, but Sugar still felt strange.

The room she shared with the other two had been her sanctuary, and she had always felt very safe in there.

Now, whenever she entered the room, she was greeted with flashes of the oily smoke. She could still smell the acrid smoke that permeated the walls, despite Harold's careful redecorating. No matter how many times they washed the sheets or aired the mattresses, Sugar could still smell it.

The other girls claimed not to notice it before clucking their tongues worried and looking at one another with frightened looks.

She sat in a green skirt of raw silk, with a cream-colored corset top embroidered with shamrocks. Ariella, who had noticed that Sugar hadn't been feeling quite right, declared that Sugar should be done like a princess that night.

They decked her out with all her diamonds, and added each a little something of their own. Carmine lent her an ivory comb speckled with rubies for her hair; Karita supplied a lovely pair of emerald earrings; Ariella offered her a beautiful white chiffon shawl, and Bella let her use some of her perfume- or 'scent', she called it.

Though Sugar knew they were just trying to help, she couldn't help but feeling like a doll. So, pleading a headache, she escaped to her windowseat (the vanity chair dragged over to their tiny window) and looked out.

So while the girls chattered behind her, she looked out at the stars. The stars were comforting to her, but the moon was not.

Sugar's mother had been nothing but a French peasant from a small country town, and very superstitious. Sugar, who had been only six when her parents died, just barely remembered her mother.

Sugar had a very good memory from the time that she was 10. Before that, she had to make do with snatches of her childhood. It was her protection against the bad memories of her past, her hedge against heartbreak, her repressed memories that were only too happy to remain hidden, taking with them the good as well as the bad.

~*~
Her mother had been standing outside her window, next to her father. She had crossed herself four times.

"What are you seeing, Josephine?" asked her father, taking his wife's arm.

""Blood on the moon."

Bella put her hands on her hips and let out a brassy laugh as Ariella began waving her skirts in front of Karita's half-powdered face. Carmine snorted and ducked the cushion hurled in her direction.

"Josephine-"

"If you wreck my hair, so help me--"

"Bad luck to come, Patrick."

"You'll do what, Camrinita?"

"You know I hate that name."

Anne had crawled beside her at that moment, and pulled her younger sister away.

"Camrinita-"

"My name is Carmine! Not Camrin!"

"Anne, what does blood on the moon mean?"

"Camrin! Cammmmmmmrinnnnnnnnn-"

"It's just a funny thing Maman likes to say. Don't listen."

"Knock it!!"

"Why'd she cross herself four times?"

"Damn you all."

Anne had giggled and tucked her sister in. "One for you, one for me, one for Papa, and one for herself."

"CamriNITA!!!!!!!!!!!!"

"And that means good things, right, Anne?"

"Can't you torment someone else?"

"Of course, sweetness. Now, go to sleep, and dream pretty dreams."

~*~
Sugar was not a superstitious. She never had been. Black cats didn't bother her, cracked mirrors were normal occurences, ladders were a part of every day life.

But something about the moon touched deep within her, like a pebble rippling the surface of the pond of dread welled within her soul. The ripples spread until a dizzingly feeling reached her head, causing her to intake her breath sharply.

"What is it?" cried the other girls, dropping what they were doing and running to Sugar, who was feeling strangely light-headed. She was unable to turn away from the disturbing moon.

"Blood on the moon," she whispered. "Bad luck to come."

~*~

Sugar moved into the brisk spring evening from the hothouse-air of dance hall. No one would miss her. Any man who was interested in her would be equally as pleased to dance with any of the other girls. Carmine and Bella and Karita and Ariella all had dates to meet their beloveds at some point in time that evening, so it all worked out.

Sugar tranversed the terrain around the garden of the Moulin. Walking up the gravel that crunched pleasantly under her feet, she heard the distinctly cultured voice of Satine swearing.

She quickened her pace to try to outrun the irritating flame of worry that blossomed in her chest, licking her heart and making it beat faster.

There was Satine in the corner of the garden. She turned guiltily when she heard Sugar approach, then smiled. "Oh, it's you, little one." she said softly, bringing her cigarette to her lips. She inhaled deeply, and then exhaled, a swirl of gray smoke dancing up to the stars. "How I hate cigarettes." she moaned softly. "Do you smoke?"

Sugar shook her head softly, and a breeze whistled around her. She found herself grateful for Ariella's shawl.

"Good." Satine said sharply. "Don't ever start. It's a disgusting habit. It burns, it smells, and it leaves a funny aftertaste." She made a face. "Like that. Positively horrid." she took another drag, looking as though it pained her. "Why are you out here?"

Sugar shrugged, studying Satine in the moonlight. She wasn't in a costume, instead in a evening dress of red taffeta with an overlay of black silk with jet black beads. She looked at her inquistively.

"My night off." Satine laughed. "And what a jolly night it is. Here I am, still stuck where I always am." she took a step towards Sugar. "You don't talk much, do you?"

Sugar gave an embarrassed smile, and ducked her head. Satine smiled kindly at her. "That's alright. With most of the others you can't get a word in." She thoughtfully brought the cigarette up to her lips. "Most of us can't bear silence, 'cause once we give our brains a break they start to scream accusations."

Sugar was watching her warily, and it was Satine's turn to be embarrassed. "Tu m'excuse," she said softly. "I speak out of place."

"You are the Sparkling Diamond." Sugar said quietly, finding her voice. It was the statement that excused Satine of every fault.

Satine tossed her head, and over the dim roar from the dance hall and the singing night air, she could hear the earrings jingle. "Yes. The Sparkling Diamond." she brought her head closer, so that she could whisper in Sugar's ear. "Truth be told, it's highly overrated. I'd much rather be one of you."

Sugar took a step back in shock, and Satine smiled wickedly, as though she had just spoken treason. She nodded. "Yes, it is true, the Sparkling Diamond is blasphemously ashamed."

Another breath of the cigarette. Sugar found herself entranced by the smoke, watching it ascend into the night air until it crossed the moon. Then she felt a shiver run down her spine. It was then she noticed that her normal feeling of dread had left her until that moment.

Satine was now looking up the sky, still talking to Sugar. "You girls- especially your group, doll- you have one another. You aren't backstabbers. Even the Dogs have a sort of kinship." she looked at Sugar and smiled ruefully. "When I came here, I decided I didn't need friends." her smile shifted to a bitter one, and tone soon dripped with cynicism. "To be adored would be enough."

And then the facade dropped. She shook her head. "It's not."

Sugar was unsure of what to make of this information. Except for the time that Satine saved her in the fire, (which, in her opinion, didn't count as an encounter because they both had death breathing down their throats) Sugar had never been alone with Satine.

But she was not as scared as she thought she would be. As all the other girls who had become chatty with Satine, she was sweet.

But there was more to Satine than the girls had told her. She was not just a nice girl, not just the Sparkling Diamond.

She was more. She had feelings, she had regrets.

As she was analyzing her, Satine had come closer. She reached a hand out and twirled a lock of Sugar's hair around a perfectly manicured finger.

"Don't ever give up your friends." she whispered, before pulling Sugar to her in an embrace.

For one so thin, Satine's embrace was surprisingly comfortable one, not bony like some could be. Sugar could detect a slight hint of lemon verbena behind whatever perfume she was wearing. It was comforting scent, one that was safe and secure, and for a brief moment Satine was the most human, wonderful person in the world.