Susan Pfeffer - Shade of the Moon

“It’s kinda hard to remember,” Ruby said, turning away to wash the utensils. “I liked gym. We had races and we played kickball. School in White Birch didn’t have any gym. Do you have a gym where you go to school, Mr. Jon?”

“Yeah,” Jon said. “I’m on the soccer team, so I spend a lot of time there.”

“Jon’s the best,” Gabe said. “I saw him play. He can kick the ball a hundred miles!”

“Fifty miles on a bad day,” Jon said.

“I wish I could play soccer,” Ruby said. “Sometimes I feel like I’m tied up, can’t do anything. Not here, Mr. Jon. You and Mrs. Evans and little Gaby, I love doing for you. But it’s like my teacher, that other Mrs. Evans, used to say. Sometimes you have to bust out. She didn’t say it like that, but that was what she meant. Don’t get me wrong. I’m happy I’m a grub, working in a nice house like this. But sometimes I wish I could run the way I used to back home. Run till my feet can’t carry me no more and then keep on running.”

Jon cut another carrot in two. He offered half of it to Ruby, who hesitated and then accepted it. “I do get hungry,” she said.

“Then help yourself to some food,” he said. “You’re here to work, not starve.”

“Thank you, Mr. Jon,” Ruby said. “Maybe tonight you’ll let me show you how grateful I am?”

“Not tonight, Ruby,” he replied. He left her and Gabe and walked into the living room.

That afternoon he’d had his first afterschool since the riot. It had been pretty much as he’d expected. Coach screamed, cursing them for their cowardice, singing the praises of Tyler and Zachary, two boys who understood the importance of winning. He made a point of signaling out Jon, calling him every name in the book for not hitting the shot in White Birch when he was told to.

Jon knew if he stayed in Sexton, he’d be expected to play on the Sexton soccer team through college. That meant five more years of listening to Coach. Five years of humiliating people just to make sure they understood the superiority of clavers.

The only time, Jon thought, that he’d actually enjoyed playing soccer had been during the White Birch match, when the game had felt real and victory wasn’t guaranteed. He didn’t know where the grubs had learned the game, how they’d found time and strength to practice, but somehow they had, and for that reason alone, the game had felt real and exciting and worth winning.

White Birch was the biggest and best-run of all the area grubtowns. If they didn’t have gym, none of the other towns did, either.

It struck Jon that what he wanted to do was teach grubber kids soccer, basketball, running, any kind of sport. Girls and boys. They should all have that chance to bust out.

It was a dangerous idea. The kids were being raised to be domestics, laborers, miners. The clavers knew the danger of letting them bust out.

But somehow he’d find a way. He’d get the Rubys and the Opals and all the other kids in all those towns running and playing and busting out.

He’d make Mom proud.

“I have something to tell you,” Jon said to Sarah. He’d gone to her house after supper, and they sat on the porch. The southern breeze made things warmer and more humid, but the air was cleaner, and the evening sun was visible through the cloud cover.

“I have something to tell you, too,” Sarah said. “You go first.”

Jon no longer was sure telling Sarah was a good idea. “No,” he said. “Ladies first.”

“Guests first,” Sarah said. “What is it, Jon? Is Miranda all right?”

“Lisa called the hospital today, and they said she was,” Jon replied. “This isn’t about Miranda. It’s about me.”

“I’m listening,” she said.

“I woke up last night, and I was hungry,” Jon said. “Before, I would have gone downstairs and told Val to make me something. I wouldn’t have cared that she was sleeping. She was a grub and I was a claver. Only then I met you and I started thinking about things differently.” He laughed. “I still would have woken her up, but I would have said please and thank you and maybe even apologized.”

“Val isn’t there anymore for you to wake up,” Sarah said.

“No,” Jon said. “Carrie isn’t, either. We have a new girl. That’s what she is, a girl. Her name’s Ruby. She’s fourteen.”

“A high schooler,” Sarah said. “Daddy was offered one, but he said no. We’re managing with one domestic. I help out when I can.”

“Lisa has to have someone to take care of Gabe,” Jon said. “She didn’t have a choice. And Ruby seems okay with it. Gabe’s crazy about her. It’s like Carrie never existed.”

“Is she sleeping in the nursery?” Sarah asked.

Jon shook his head. “She’s downstairs, by the kitchen. If I’d gone downstairs, I might have ended up in her bed. She’s invited me to. But I didn’t want to do that to us.”

Sarah turned away from him. “There isn’t going to be an us,” she said. “That’s what I have to tell you.”

“What do you mean?” Jon asked. “Do you still want me to leave Sexton?”

“No,” she said. “Oh no, Jon. I love you. I want to be with you. But Daddy says it’s not safe here for me anymore. He’s sending me to my uncle’s in Virginia.”

“But you’re coming back,” Jon said, panic sweeping over him. “It’s just for August and then you’ll come back.”

She shook her head. “I begged Daddy to let me stay. But he and my uncle both think it’s best for me to go. Daddy said I could let you know, but you can’t tell anyone else. I’m leaving a week from Monday.”

“How?” Jon asked. “It’s hundreds of miles away.”

“My uncle’s getting me a travel pass,” she replied. “Daddy was going to ask for Alex to drive me, but I told him not to because of the baby. Alex will want to spend as much time with Miranda and the baby as possible, and it’s a long drive to Virginia.”

“Alex can go,” Jon said. “Miranda isn’t going back to White Birch.”

“Why not?” Sarah asked.

Jon thought of Alex’s fantasies of getting out, but that’s all they were. Fantasies. You needed money and passes to travel. Alex didn’t have an uncle to provide them.

“Lisa arranged for Miranda to be our domestic,” Jon said. “She’s coming after the baby’s born.”

“Miranda’s your sister,” Sarah said. “Lisa’s stepdaughter. She’s going to be your grub?”

“It wasn’t my idea,” Jon said. “Lisa thought it would be better this way. You’ve seen Mom’s apartment. That’s no place for a baby.”

“Laura never would have approved,” Sarah said.

“She knew,” Jon said angrily. “She approved. And you know something? You shouldn’t call her Laura. You only call her that because she wasn’t a claver.”

Sarah looked stricken. “Oh, Jon,” she said. “I never thought about that. But you’re right. I’m sorry. I’m just as bad as everyone else. No, I’m worse, because I go around acting like I’m better.”

“It’s not your fault,” Jon said, reaching out to take her hand. “It’s just the way they’ve taught us.”

“We could run away,” Sarah said. “I could go with you to your brother’s. We could be grubs together.”

Jon kissed her. “You’d make a lousy grub,” he said. “It’s okay, Sarah. Go to Virginia. I’ll know you’re safe there. I’d like somebody I love to be safe.”

“We won’t lose each other,” Sarah said. “We’ll work something out.”

Jon knew they wouldn’t, they couldn’t. But Sarah needed her fantasies, and Jon wasn’t going to deprive her of them.

“We’ll work something out,” he said instead, and kissed her with a promise of a different world, a different life, where people in love could work things out.