Susan Pfeffer - Shade of the Moon

“I think I calmed him down,” she said to Jon after she hung up. “Of course he wants to break every rule and rush to her side, but that’s the worst thing he could do. It won’t do Miranda any good if he’s thrown in jail.”

“They’d send him to the mines,” Jon said.

“That won’t do Miranda any good, either,” Lisa replied. “But there’s a chance I can get him a pass. Someone’s been after me for a while for an Ivy League domestic. I may be able to do some swapping. One Yalie for two state-college grads and a pass for Alex as a thank-you. It might work.”

Jon didn’t care. Alex could end up in the mines as far as he was concerned, and Miranda and her baby could follow him there.

He felt bad for Mom, but that was it. Someday, he decided, he’d tell Mom the truth about Miranda. Mom would never forgive her. Miranda would be dead to her, just as she was to Jon.

“When Alex calls tonight, you take it, all right, Jon?” Lisa said.

“Okay,” Jon said, although he had no desire to talk with Alex. “Why are you avoiding him?”

“I spent half of today trying to get him that pass,” Lisa said. “But the family with the Yalie wouldn’t give her up, and the family that wanted a Yalie wouldn’t take anything else. I even offered Val to sweeten the pot, but Tulane wasn’t good enough for them.”

“You would have transferred Val?” Jon asked. He knew how much Lisa depended on her.

“Miranda and Alex are family,” Lisa said. “Val isn’t. If it weren’t for Hal and me, Miranda would never have met Alex. In some ways, I’m more of a grandmother to their baby than Laura is.”

Jon stared at her.

“Don’t give me that look, Jon Evans,” Lisa said. “Yes, I know I’m taking Miranda on as a domestic and that’s not the same as what I’ve done for you. But it’s the best I can do. A decent home with clean air for their baby. A year or two from now things could be completely different. Who knows. But the important thing is to stay alive and healthy. And the best way of doing that is playing by the rules.”

“Even if the rules stink?” Jon asked.

“They’re not that bad for us,” Lisa said. “You might try to be more grateful for what you have. And don’t get any ideas about beating up the domestics, Jon.”

“Carrie told you?” Jon asked.

“Gabe did,” Lisa said. “He was very upset. Carrie says you didn’t hit her, but she was afraid you were going to. Jon, what’s the matter with you? It’s one thing to tell Val she has to get up earlier in the morning, even though you should have asked me first. But abusing the domestics? I don’t care what your friends do. In this house everyone is treated with respect.”

“I told her I was sorry,” Jon said. “I’d been having a bad dream, and then Gabe waking me up like that, I couldn’t tell what was real and what was nightmare.”

“You’d better learn the difference,” Lisa said. “I have enough problems around here without Carrie reporting you for battery.”

“I was going to slap her,” Jon said. “That’s not battery.”

“Carrie said you looked out of control,” Lisa said. “Oh, Jon, I don’t even know why we’re arguing about this. I have a headache, and I’m going to bed. When Alex calls, tell him I couldn’t get the pass, but I called the hospital this afternoon and they said Miranda is doing fine. He and Laura shouldn’t worry. Miranda’s getting excellent care, and it’s much better for her to be in the hospital than working ten-hour days in the greenhouses. Oh, and Jon, you visit Miranda next, and keep it to yourself that she’s family. Just say I asked you to check up on her because she’s my domestic and I’m too busy to go.”

Jon knew he wasn’t going to visit Miranda, but he also knew not to argue. He’d go to the hospital and ask how she was doing, without actually seeing her. That should be enough to shut everybody up.

“Good night, Lisa,” he said. “Feel better.”

Lisa paused before going upstairs. “You’re a good boy, Jon,” she said. “Sometimes I think you lose sight of that fact. Give my love to Alex. Tell him things will seem better in the morning.”

“I’m here to see how Miranda Morales is doing,” Jon said. “My stepmother asked me to. Miranda’s one of her domestics.”

“She’ll be in the grubber wing, then,” the nurse said. “Walk down the hallway to the left, and take the stairs up.”

“Thank you,” Jon said. He found the door to the stairway, climbed the two flights, and saw an immediate difference once he opened the door to the third floor. The floors were filthy, wastepaper baskets full, and only half the lights were on.

Jon knew Sexton prided itself on having a grubber’s wing in the hospital, but it was clear the people who bragged about it had never actually seen it. He peeked into the various rooms. Almost all were empty, but in the handful of rooms that were occupied, there were six beds where four were meant to be.

“We don’t encourage slackers,” the only nurse on the floor said. “Make things too comfortable for grubs, they’ll never go back to work.”

Jon nodded. “I can see that might be a problem,” he said. “I’m here to check up on Miranda Morales.”

“Why?” the nurse asked.

“She’s our domestic,” Jon said. “My stepmother wants to see how she’s doing.”

“Tell your stepmother she’s doing fine,” the nurse said. “The baby’s due in about three weeks. The grub should be back at work a day or so later.”

“Do they usually recover that fast?” Jon asked.

“Grubs recover when we tell them they’ve recovered,” the nurse said. “Everyone is making a big fuss over her because she’s the only girl in here due to have a baby. No clavers, no grubs. Just her. She’s going to be spoiled rotten by the time that baby comes, and your stepmother is going to have a lot of work ahead, whipping her into shape. I’m glad it’s not my problem. You tell your stepmother that, and let me get back to work, all right?”

“All right,” Jon said. “Thank you.”

“It’s my job,” the nurse said. “A lousy one, but a job.”

It was a five-hour drive to Hilton, Tennessee, and by the time the bus got there, not even Coach seemed all that interested in the match.

Jon played the first half and scored three times. Sexton ended up winning 7–2, but there were no tirades on the drive back because of the low score. Instead all of them—Coach, the team, and the guards—got drunk on potka. Endless speeches were made about the complete and utter destruction the White Birch grubs were going to face on the Fourth of July.

“We’ll leave them drowning in their own blood!” Tyler shouted, and everyone laughed and cheered, Jon included.

Better that way than drugged and smothered, he thought. At least the grubs would have a chance. That’s more than Miranda had offered Julie.

“Hey, Evans,” Ryan said in the locker room after practice. “Looking forward to Saturday?”

“Sure,” Jon replied. “We’ll slaughter the grubs. Make them beg for mercy.”

Tyler laughed. “It’s the grubber girls that’ll be begging.”

“Show them no mercy,” Zachary said.

“The plan is to stay in White Birch after the match,” Ryan said. “Right, Tyler?”

“Right,” Tyler said. “Make the eighteenth look like a picnic. You with us, Evans?”

Jon knew there was only one way he could answer. “Can’t wait,” he said.

Tyler walked over to him and slapped him on the back. “That’s a good slip,” he said. “Now let’s get out of here before Coach makes us run more laps.”