Ria liked just about everything except bossy people and burnt toast. She had a happy, optimistic disposition and a quick smile. Her only companions were four ducks, which she loved dearly. They were kept in the backyard with a blue children’s pool and a little duck house. She wore lacy, fluffy dresses with flower patterns, and her hair was honey brown and very curly. She wore it down to her shoulders, tied back with a ribbon.
Now Ria had a wild side that seemed in direct contrast to her quiet, domestic ways. This wild streak was not seen often, but when it was, it usually left memorable impressions. Folks would have something interesting to relate to each other for several weeks to come. One autumn evening a reddish colored moon rose full in the sky.
Ria was out back feeding her precious ducks and cleaning out the little pool. A blue jay was fussing about in the trees and several frogs were singing. Purple rain clouds blew past the moon and wind picked up speed, coming in furious gusts. Ah, she felt so exhilarated!
Her skirts swished around her and her hair fluffed out to its full glory when she undid the ribbon. The ducks started for their little duck house as Ria began to dance a curious Latin-like step. She laughed and hollered and danced around until she tripped up and fell into the duck pool.
A few curious neighbors came over to make sure she was alright, as they had heard her rigorous hooting noises from way across the street. “Think we should call someone?” asked a man named Joe.
“Naw - Ria’s just having fun,” explained old Mrs. Dumont, who lived next door. But instead of going back home, they stayed around to watch Ria dance in her soaking wet dress and bouncy red curls.
Directly, Mrs. Dumont started singing an old Irish tune in her croaky alto voice as Joe clapped his hands in time to the song. Pretty soon they were both dancing around under that huge crimson moon, with wind gusts making the pines sway and the Spanish moss swing back and forth in the oaks. This was the spectacle her daughter walked up on when she came to fetch Ria for night services at the church.
“Mama!” scolded Billie, the daughter, “You got our whole neighborhood gone crazy!”
Mrs. Dumont and Joe immediately stopped and assumed a more serious demeanor. “Ria was having so much fun, it was contagious!” explained Joe, who was so embarrassed, his face was red like the moon.
“Guess you’re not in the mood for church services!” Billie scowled.
“Lighten up,” replied Ria, “You were always too gloomy. It’s a wonder you didn’t end up a mortician!” she went on.
Billie stomped back to her car and drove away, leaving the three to feel silly and chastised.
The next day, word got around, and by the time it got to the town grocery store, all three were naked and drunk.
Mrs. Dumont felt a kind of pride at hearing this, as she had always felt herself prudish and restrained. Joe wouldn’t come out of his house for a week after he heard the gossip. Ria thought the whole thing hilarious and added little juicy tidbits whenever someone asked her about it. But, in time, those tales were replaced by others and most folks forgot about it.
One night a year later, around Halloween, Ria, Joe, and Mrs. Dumont were all out in the evening, putting up decorations. As the moon began to rise, wind picked up and blew a moist breeze across the lawns. The moon became redder and redder and the three kept giving each other furtive glances. All four ducks appeared, having escaped the backyard fence through a hole in the chicken-wire. Ria got a wild look in her eye. This time, so did Joe, and Mrs. Dumont.
