Susan Pfeffer - Shade of the Moon

“They’re not crazy about me, either,” Jon replied. “Let’s hope the minister in Bellingham is as nice as you say.”

Ruby began walking toward the exit ramp. “Grub work,” she said. “Grub food. You’ll get used to it, Mr. Jon. One of these days you’ll know you’re a grub, just the same as me.”

“I have to admit it,” Jon said as he sprawled on the ground next to Ruby. “You were right.”

“Right about what, Mr. Jon?” Ruby asked.

“About working for our food, Mrs. Ruby,” Jon replied.

“I told you not to call me that,” Ruby said. “‘Mrs. Ruby’ sounds stupid.”

“Well, so does ‘Mr. Jon,’” Jon said. “But I can’t get you to stop. Even though you’re supposed to obey me.”

“Well, I don’t see you doing much honoring or cherishing, neither,” Ruby said.

Jon laughed. “Fair enough,” he said. “Good night, Mrs. Ruby.”

“Good night, Mr. Jon,” Ruby mumbled.

Ruby fell asleep quickly, Jon had learned over the past few days. But no matter how much labor Jon had done or how hungry he was, sleep didn’t come easily.

He’d thought spending so much time with Ruby would have tempted him, but when he thought about her as his wife, the image of Sarah flooded over him. Sarah’s lips against his, her heart pounding as he held her tightly.

Jon understood that as the world now was, he would never see Sarah again. But what he’d come to understand was how quickly worlds could change. Four months ago he hadn’t met Sarah. One month ago he hadn’t met Ruby.

One month ago his mother was still alive. A week ago Lisa was.

He willed himself to fall asleep. They’d leave at dawn and get as much walking in as they could before finding a town and looking for work. Maybe someone would feed them before they began their scrubbing. Then, with the money they made today and the money they’d make tomorrow, they could buy enough food to last them until Sunday if they were careful.

Things will be different, he thought, as he drifted off to sleep. Different. Better. In a week things will be better.

The job Ruby had found for them that day was cleaning a grubber school. Claver schools had grubs to do their cleaning, but no one bothered cleaning a grubber school. For the promise of a dollar and a breakfast of potatoes and cabbage, Jon and Ruby had swept and scrubbed the floors. Now they were outside washing the windows, Jon on the ladder doing the second story while Ruby stayed on the ground.

“When you think they washed these windows last, Mr. Jon?” Ruby asked.

“Not since the world came to an end,” Jon said as he tried to remove four years’ worth of filth. “Ruby, if I’m not a claver anymore, why don’t you call me Jon?”

“I only call my friends by their rightful names,” Ruby replied. “You ain’t my friend, Mr. Jon.”

At first Jon thought he was laughing so hard he made the ladder rattle. Then he realized it was the familiar rumble of an earthquake. Not what he wanted to feel on top of a ladder.

“Hold on tight!” Ruby shouted. She raced over to the ladder and held on to it as it shook wildly.

Jon grasped the side of the building. He was only one flight up, he told himself. Even if he fell, it wouldn’t be so bad.

But if he fell the wrong way, he could end up with a concussion or a broken ankle, or any of another dozen things that in this world could prove fatal.

The tremor passed, but Jon continued to shake as he scrambled down the ladder. “Thank you, Ruby,” he said.

“Nothing to thank me for, Mr. Jon,” she replied. “You take over these downstairs windows. They’re too tough for me.”

“No, Ruby,” Jon said. “I’ll be okay.”

“I don’t doubt that,” she said. “But I don’t feel like scraping you up off the ground.” She climbed up the ladder and began washing the windows, the pale glow of moonlight illuminating her work.

Eventually they finished and went in to get some sleep in what had been the nurse’s office. Ruby lay down on the floor.

Jon took her hand and gently raised her up. “You take the cot,” he said. “I’ll sleep on the floor.”

“You sure?” she asked. “Don’t seem right somehow.”

“It’s right,” he said. “Good night, Ruby. Thank you.”

“Don’t know what you’re thanking me for,” she mumbled before sinking into sleep.

Jon stretched out on the floor. Good thing he’d washed it, he thought. Clavers should never sleep on unwashed floors.

They’d spent the afternoon cleaning a clinic run by a grub who’d flunked out of med school twenty years ago. He promised them some money, but when they finished, he said he didn’t have any on him. If they came back tomorrow, he’d see what he could do.

Money would have meant food at the local market, but hunger was an old friend, and Jon knew how to live with it. Besides, he’d swiped an old road map, hiding it until he and Ruby were back on the road.

As soon as they took a break, Jon pulled the map out and traced their path. When he figured out where they were, he located Coolidge, where Matt and Syl lived. It was north and east. Working for food slowed them down, but if they found work tomorrow and rationed their food for the rest of the week, they had a chance of getting there before nightfall Monday.

Maybe they could beg for food at a church on Sunday. That would make the rest of the journey easier.

Begging for food from grubs. Jon shook his head. If Luke could see him now. Or Coach. But he’d earned the food they’d gotten until now.

Jon grinned as he remembered how he’d tried to help Carrie with the housework. How he’d claimed training for soccer was work. How he hadn’t known how to make breakfast.

Mom would be proud of him now, he thought. Sarah would be, too.

They were both lost to him. But it hurt a little less to know they’d both be proud.

“Well, that’s what Daddy always said.”

“What, Sarah?”

Ruby laughed. “You sleepwalking or something? Look around, Mr. Jon. You won’t see no claver girls here.”

Jon shook his head. He hadn’t been sleepwalking, but he had been trying to remember the details of the dream he’d had just before waking. Sarah was in it. They were in the garage, only it wasn’t the garage. It looked more like a cottage, with furniture and a fireplace giving off warmth and light. He could remember the sensation of Sarah’s skin next to his.

“Sorry, Ruby,” Jon said. “I had something else on my mind.”

“Someone else,” she said. “This Sarah of yours. She someone special?”

“You met her,” Jon said. “What did she seem like to you?”

“I can’t answer that,” Ruby replied. “Claver boys, well, they ain’t different from grubber boys. Boys all want the same thing. That’s just your nature. I never really known a claver girl though. The few I’ve known mostly looked right through me, so I never much bothered to look back. Why ain’t you with this Sarah, if you think about her so much?”

“She’s in Virginia,” Jon said, hoping that would explain it all.

“That where we’re going?” Ruby asked. “That’s a long haul from Tennessee, Mr. Jon. Me and my family walked it from West Virginia, and that’s got to be closer than Virginia proper.”

“We won’t be going that far,” Jon told her. “I don’t expect to see Sarah again.”

“What do you expect?” Ruby asked.

“Nothing from you,” Jon said. “Except companionship.”

Ruby snorted. “Don’t know how much longer you should expect that from me, neither,” she said. “One of these days I’m going to leave you be and go off, do something good with my life. Don’t need to waste all my energy on a lost soul like yours.”