Moon Fox

The moon hung heavily in the sky, shedding a pale light over the wilderness. Huge and ominous, it dominated the stars, and its color – like a pastel orange marker that had been smudged by someone's fingers – was echoed in the fall foliage.

Commander Lee Crane breathed a quick prayer of gratitude for the full moon. Under its faint glow, he felt safer than he had in several weeks.

The Yosemite wilderness under an October moon was no place for ghosts. And Lee had had more than enough of ghosts for a lifetime. He tilted his head to look up at the moon.

The Native Americans had named the October full moon the Hunters' Moon. They had understood that it represented their last chance to fill their larders before winter chased the game away. They felt a sense of urgency as they hunted beneath it that was belied by the still serenity of the moon herself. Odd how humans hung so much legend and folk wisdom on the moon, yet for all their stories, the moon still sat, ignorantly naïve, in the night sky…

Something moved under the trees, a vague black shaped that caught Lee's gaze and thundered in his heart. For a moment, he drew breath in and out, fighting to steady himself. Krueger is gone. Lani is gone. He watched the trees alertly, practicing meditative breathing. The ghost sickness is gone. No more need for worry… Or fear… He could admit to himself that he had been afraid. From the moment he'd looked up to see Admiral Nelson pointing a gun at him, he'd lived in fear. Krueger had done what no enemy had ever been able to do: tear down all his defenses and turn him inside out.

Admiral Nelson had advised this trip; Lee, looking at that newly aged face, had taken the advice, realizing that Krueger had taken a toll on others as well. It would be difficult to work his way back to trust, respect, and friendship with the man who had become a mentor to him. Krueger had destroyed that.

Chip Morton had argued that Lee shouldn't be alone, that the company of a supportive friend would help him get through. But they both knew that there were secrets between even the closest friends; dark terrors that weren't meant to be shared. Those terrors were the reason that Lee had left in the dead of night to come here where even the memories of ghosts couldn't find him.

The shadow under the trees shifted again, then stepped hesitantly out into the moonlight. A fox, its red coat silvered by the moonlight, lifted its nose to the wind.

Lee's lips turned slightly upward. A fox was a lucky sighting. They generally hid themselves away, too frightened of humans to expose themselves. But this one seemed to be a brave little fellow. It sniffed the wind, then suddenly turned to look right at Lee.

Tawny eyes looked into his, liquid and alert and wise. Lee stiffened, afraid to move, afraid to scare it away, but it stepped daintily forward, until it stood only a few feet away, its gaze magnetic. Lee held his breath; he was good, a silent effective tracker, but he had never been this close to a fox. They were notoriously elusive animals. Even the slightest sound could send it fleeing for shelter.

Second after second, they stared into each other's gaze in a kind of limbo. The fox's eyes seemed to morph into his father's eyes, and his father's voice came whispering on the wind. You are stronger, son. You have proven that you are stronger. Let it go. Let the dead bury the dead.

Then the eyes shifted again, their color changeable in the moonlight, hauntingly blue now, rousing the echo of his last conversation with the admiral. Take some time. Work through your demons. And I hope… The strong voice had broken there, and Lee had suddenly realized that Admiral Nelson was old… Every line in his face impressed itself on Lee, and he knew suddenly that he needed to make things right, before it was too late. The admiral had certainly pulled the trigger, but the blame was squarely on Krueger. Anger rose into Lee's throat; Krueger had tried to destroy more than a boat and a crew. He had tried to destroy a family. And he had nearly succeeded because Lee had chosen to fixate on his fear. That ended now.

The fox's eyes seemed to grow younger, less emotional, and yet Lee knew the whirlwind of emotions that hid behind the inscrutable façade. And anyway, the voice bled emotion in ways that perfect poker face did not. You cannot do this alone. Isn't that what you told me after Argentina? You can't be right then and wrong now. There is no double standard here. I can help you, even if all I do is listen. A pregnant pause, then Don't go it alone this time, Lee. Please…

The eyes melted back into the liquid amber eyes of the fox. As if it understood that it had served as a surrogate for the three men Lee admired most, the fox cocked its head and sat, curling its bushy tail around its paws.

Lee sat, too, busily planning his most important mission yet. Krueger didn't get to win this one.

He cocked his head, echoing the fox; a fox had been his father's spirit animal. Lee contemplated the one that sat in front of him with a half-smile. "Thank you little brother."

The fox yawned, rose, stretched, and trotted off under the full autumn moon.