Susan Pfeffer - Shade of the Moon

“She’s a good woman,” Jon said. “You’re a lucky man.”

“She has her good days,” Virgil said. “But she can’t bake potato bread worth a lick.”

Jon smiled. “We won’t care,” he said. “Right now we’d be honored to eat as good as your hogs.”

When Katie returned, she’d packed all the bread, two potatoes, and a bunch of carrots. “Take it all,” she said. “And Godspeed to you.”

“Thank you,” Jon said. “Ruby, my wife, she thanks you, too.”

“Just get out,” Virgil said. “And don’t show your face here again.”

“Never,” Jon said. “I promise.”

It was hard walking back to Ruby without eating any of the food, but he wanted to show her how much they had, to let her have the first bites before he allowed himself any.

He thought about how brave she was, how much her strength had helped him. It was funny. He was with her day and night, but he’d lost any interest he had in her as a woman, if he’d ever had any. Someday, maybe, he’d be over Sarah, but by then Ruby would have found that hard-working man she’d make a life with.

“Ruby!” he called as he saw her resting against a tree trunk. “I got us some food!”

“Real food?” she cried. “Really, Mr. Jon?”

“Well, the hogs won’t eat it,” Jon said. “But it’s good enough for us.”

“Do you know their address?” Ruby asked. “Or are we gonna wander around Coolidge the rest of our lives looking for that brother of yours?”

“Forty-four fifty-two Route Thirty-seven East,” Jon said.

“I don’t suppose you know where that is,” Ruby said.

“No, I don’t,” Jon said. “But the streets are full of people. Let’s ask one and see if we can find out.”

“Full of grubs,” Ruby said. “You know that’s what you want to call them. ‘People.’ You don’t think of them as people. They’re just dirty grubs like me.”

The closer they’d gotten to Coolidge, the crabbier Ruby had become. Jon figured she was nervous about meeting his family. Nervous and hungry and exhausted.

“People or grubs,” Jon said. “Let’s ask one.”

Coolidge looked like a rural version of White Birch. The people who lived there had the same worn-out look to them. But it was close to 7 p.m., and they were getting home from their jobs.

At that, the grubs looked better than he and Ruby did. They’d found a stream a few miles back and had washed themselves, but they’d been wearing the same clothes now for ten days and had only rinsed them out a couple of times during their journey.

“You ask,” Ruby grumbled. “Use that claver charm of yours.”

Jon found a man who looked a little less dead than the others. “Excuse me,” he said. “I’m looking for Route Thirty-seven East.”

The man spat in the vicinity of Jon’s feet. “What for?” he asked.

“I’ve got family there,” Jon said. “Can you tell me where it is?”

“Yeah,” the man said. “But I don’t reckon I want to.” He walked away.

“Okay,” Jon said to Ruby. “You go next.”

Ruby scowled, but she walked over to a woman. “Thirty-seven East?” she said.

“Walk to the corner and make a left,” the woman replied. “Go about a mile. You’ll see the sign for it there.”

“Well, thank you, ma’am, very much,” Ruby said.

“Any time,” the woman said, cracking what seemed to be a smile in Ruby’s direction.

“How did you do that?” Jon asked as they began walking down the street.

“Like knows like,” Ruby replied. “You still smell of claver.”

Jon was pretty sure claver wasn’t what the grubs were smelling, but he kept his thoughts to himself.

“How far down you think it’ll be?” Ruby asked. “That big number.”

“We’ve made it this far, we can make it a little farther,” Jon said. “Come on, Ruby. Think how excited Gabe will be when he sees you.”

“I don’t know, Mr. Jon,” Ruby said. “Maybe it’s not that good an idea, him seeing me.”

“Ruby, please,” Jon said. “We’ve got to get there, and it’s going to be dark pretty soon. Matt will feed us, and we can clean up and get some sleep. All right?”

“Don’t matter what I think,” she grumbled, but she began walking again.

She’s shy, Jon thought. She’s scared of meeting people she thinks of as clavers. She lost everything—her home, her family—and now she’s meeting her new family; naturally she’s reluctant.

But it still irritated him that she walked so slowly.

Route Thirty-seven East was to the right. Jon started looking at house numbers, but they were only in the 2000s.

“It’s miles from here,” Ruby said. “We’re never gonna get there.”

“You know how many miles we’ve walked to get here?” Jon asked. “Close to two hundred. More probably, with all the detours we made to get food. So what if it’s another mile or two? Keep walking.”

“And what if I don’t?” she said.

“Fine,” Jon said. “Don’t. Stand here for the rest of your life. I don’t care. I’m finding forty-four fifty-two with or without you.”

“You’d do that?” Ruby cried. “Leave me here, standing all alone, not knowing a soul? That ain’t honoring me.”

Jon stared at her. The past few days they’d gotten along so well. Jon knew the rules and he obeyed them. Ruby lowered her guard in return. They’d talked about growing up, what their lives had been like before.

But now she was the Ruby he’d forced out of Sexton. The Ruby who’d made it clear that she hated him. The Ruby he’d had to threaten with eternal damnation to make her listen to him.

“Cut it out,” he said. “Go or stay. It’s your choice. But I’m not standing here one minute longer.” He turned away from her and began walking.

He got a three-minute head start on her, but then she caught up with him. She was panting from exertion, and he stopped to let her catch her breath.

“It’s not that much farther,” he said. “Look, there’s thirty-two hundred.”

“I’m coming,” Ruby said. “But I ain’t talking.”

“Fair enough,” Jon said.

It took another twenty minutes before they reached the 4000s. By the time they got to the 4200s, they were in nearly deserted country. It took another ten minutes to reach the 4300s. By then the only houses were decrepit-looking trailers.

“I like White Birch better,” Ruby said. “Kind of scary out here.”

“You’re right,” Jon said. “Okay. Forty-four thirty-eight. Matt’s should be one or two houses down.”

“What kind of people live like this?” Ruby asked. “All alone, no neighbors?”

Jon thought about Ruby’s family’s apartment: six kids and three adults sharing four rooms. He understood that Matt and Syl got to live in their own home because Matt was a courier—not quite a grub, if not a claver.

“That’s it,” Jon said, pointing to Matt’s home. “Come on, Ruby. We’re here.”

Ruby held back. “Maybe you should go in first,” she said. “Give you folks a chance to say hello.”

“You’re my folks, too,” Jon said, certain that if he left Ruby alone, she’d run away. “Let’s go.”

He could see lights in the house, so he knew someone was home. His hand shook from exhaustion and nerves as he knocked on the door.

“Who is it?” Syl yelled from inside.

It had been three years since he’d heard her voice. For a moment he was fourteen again, and Syl was the girl who’d stolen his brother from him.