The Moon Sat Low

    “Can I get you anything? Maybe something to eat?”  The police officer was kind but was uncomfortable with these conversations.  He was glad to have Julia there to help.  This would not be an easy conversation.     Alison shook her head in response to the officer’s offer.  She hadn’t said a word since she was brought to the station.  She was clearly in shock.  It was tragic that a teenage girl had to see such things and it wasn’t going to get any easier.  She sat on the couch with a blanket draped over her shoulders.  She was shaking.  Not because she was cold.  It was something else and she couldn’t stop it.     “Alison,” Julia offered to take the girl’s hands to comfort her.  Alison did not take them.  “I know this is hard.  No one should ever have to go through this.  Please, know that we want to help.  I’m Julia.  I am a counselor here.  Please feel free to ask for me if ever you need to talk.  This is Officer Hartman.  I know you don’t want to do this, but we really need to know what happened last night.  Can you please tell us?”     There was a long silence.       Alison took a deep breath.  Somehow she was holding back the tears.  She realized at this moment that she hadn’t cried yet.  She hadn’t mourned.  Why hadn’t she cried yet?  No, no time for that now.  The police needed answers.     “Coffee,” she answered.  It wasn’t what she wanted to say.  The word just slipped out.       Officer Hartman nodded and poured a cup of coffee from the pot in the corner of the room.  He kept close enough to hear anything that was addressed to him, but also allowed for some private conversation if Alison wanted to speak to Julia.     She did not.     Alison took the coffee and held it in both of her hands.  It was a simple white coffee mug.  No clever phrases or pictures.  The coffee was hot and the aroma was nice.  Columbian?  Alison wasn’t really sure, but her father would have.  It smelled like the brew her father drank.  It was probably Columbian.  It was black.  Of course it was black.  Alison thinks she heard the police officer ask her if she wanted sugar or creamer.  Alison shook her head as she stared at the black liquid.     “Alison?”  It was Julia’s voice again.  It broke Alison from her trance.  How long was she sitting there looking at her coffee?  She couldn’t know.  Time had stopped this morning.      “I was with Luke,” she began.  Alison didn’t meet anyone’s eyes as she stared straight ahead. “Luke and Courtney at first.  We were at Luke’s place just watching movies and hanging out.”     “Luke Rodgers?” Officer Hartman asked.  Julia silently signaled him to stop interrupting.     “Yes, Luke Rodgers.  He’s my boyfriend.  We were all hanging out until about 10.  Then Courtney went home.  I should have gone home too.  I was breaking curfew, but... “ Her voice trailed off.     Julia paused for a moment.  “What time did you come home last night?”     “It was not until after midnight.  I fell asleep.” She stopped and looked at Julia and Officer Hartman. “Am I in trouble?”     Officer Hartman quietly wrote some notes.  Julia answered, “You’re not in trouble, dear.  We just want to know what happened.  Please continue.”     “I was past curfew, so I sneaked in through the backdoor.  I remember the kitchen light was on, but I didn’t hear anything.  I just… I just assumed they were waiting on me to come home and fuss at me.  I creeped upstairs to my bedroom and went to sleep.”  The tears came.  Now, the tears came. Alison began sobbing. “If I would have come home when I was supposed to…”     “Alison,” Julia said in a kind voice, “You couldn’t have done anything.  It’s not your fault.”     “When you came in the back, was the door locked?” Officer Hartman wasn’t a bad person, but was too logical for his own good.  His question received a glare from both Alison and Julia.     “Not the time,” Julia began.     Alison answered anyway. “Yes, it was locked.  I mean, I think so.  I just assumed it was.  I used my key.  I remember because I dropped them.  I didn’t exactly try the door before unlocking it.”  She was still sobbing.     Officer Hartman wrote a few more notes.     “Alison.  Please, take your time.”     Alison composed herself after a few moments.  “I really want to help.  I’m sorry.”     “There’s no need to be sorry,” Julia reassured her.  “Can you tell us what happened this morning?”     “I came downstairs for breakfast.  That’s… that’s when I saw them.  I called you guys immediately.  I don’t even remember what I said.  It’s like I was on some kind of autopilot. Next thing I remember is being here at the station. I mean, I remember the police cars and the paramedics, but it was like watching TV.  It’s like I wasn’t there in person.  I was just watching… watching the world fall down around me.”     “Alison, you’ve been very brave.  Do you have some place to stay?” Julia asks, handing Alison a box of tissues.      “I can stay with Luke.”     Julia and Officer Hartman exchange glances for a brief moment.  Julia shrugs a bit.  “She is 18,” she says after a brief moment. “It’s her choice.”      Officer Hartman nodded.  He was unsure about a young girl moving in with her boyfriend, but these were difficult and strange times.  He had no real objection.     “Here’s my number,” Julia said, handing Alison a business card.  “Please call me if you remember anything or just need to talk.”     “I’m sorry, but I do have one more thing to ask you about.”  Officer Hartman interjects when he sees that this conversation was drawing nigh to a close.       Ask me about something else, Alison thought, He hadn’t asked me anything yet.  Oh, except for getting me coffee. I should drink some.  I’ve just been holding it this whole time.  Alison takes a drink of her coffee.  It was starting to get cold and wasn’t as good as her father’s brew.     Officer Hartman furnishes an unmarked bottle of pills.  “Can you tell me what this is?  Have you seen it before?”     “Yes, of course,” Alison answered, “It’s my medication.”     “Medication for what, exactly?” he asked.     “Alison, you don’t need to answer that if you feel uncomfortable,” Julia explained.     “No, it’s okay.  About five years ago, I started having severe nightmares.  They were terrifying.  I was afraid to sleep.  I went to a psychologist, but he couldn’t help.  We tried some… alternative methods.  Cynthia Mason - she’s a friend of my dad’s - she provided these pills and I haven’t had a problem since.”     “Cynthia Mason?” Officer Hartman writes down her name.     “She’s a Native American medicine woman.  Cherokee, I think.”     “You’ve been taking this medication for nearly five years?” he confirms.     “Yes. One pill every day.  I am really going to need it after all this.”       She wasn’t wrong.