Full Moon Nights
by Roopa Raveendran Menon
We decided to take Arjun’s new car for a spin. It didn’t matter to us it was close to midnight when we made the plan. No rules, as far as we knew, existed in the matter of maiden car voyages and their timing. It’s a full Moon night, said Arjun.
“So?” We asked.
“Won’t be dark. That’s good, isn’t it?” Arjun said.
We nodded. Some of us laughed with relief. We didn’t put anything past Arjun. He was capable of bringing up correlations between Full Moon Nights and Werewolves and changing his mind.
“First trips are special. We must go to someplace special, “we said.
Arjun nodded.
“Where?” He asked.
“The Havelock cemetery. It is on the other side of the hill,” we said.
Arjun was quiet.
“So?” We asked.
“Isn’t it far?”
“The Full Moon will guide us. You said so yourself, “we said.
“But I will drive,” Arjun said, holding the steering wheel close to his chest. We could hear his heartbeat. We nodded.
It was a long drive. We passed overgrown plants and skinny trees until we reached a manned broken gate. The security guard stopped us, yawned, and told us to turn around and leave.
“Not safe,” he said, scratching his monkey cap.
We stayed mum, even Arjun.
We waited for the guard to turn his back. “Arjun, drive,” we whispered. Arjun had taken his foot off the accelerator. We stepped on it and the car drove itself into the cemetery. Arjun screamed at us. He kept on until we saw them. Pairs of eyes around the gravestones. The color of fire and blood. Everywhere they were there. The glow of the eyes followed by snarls and growls. Our hearts were beating in unison like the chanting of mantras. Arjun started to reverse, his clammy hands slipping. We helped him navigate the way out until we left behind the growls and the eyes of hell.
After that, we didn’t know where we were going. Darkness shadowed us and the stillness of the night rang in our ears. The car trundled down an unknown path until Arjun stepped on the brakes. The screeching echoed. Arjun’s face was slick with sweat and he pointed ahead.
“Did you see her?”
“Who?”
“The lady in the sari. She asked me to stop.”
“We saw no one,” we said.
Arjun stepped out of the car and flashed the torch. There was no path ahead. A steep ravine gaped at us.
We stood there, smoking. Even Arjun. His fingers trembling. Flecks of cigarette ash leaving a trail. We smoked till the sun’s rays lit up the rocks lining the ravine. We climbed into the car and reversed it until we found a path to lead us back home. We never talked about anything that happened that night during the ride or ever. Only Arjun found a new correlation with Full Moon Nights. And we couldn’t even blame him.
