The Shade of the Moon (29 page)

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Authors: Susan Beth Pfeffer

BOOK: The Shade of the Moon
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Saturday, August 1

 

“We gotta stop,” Ruby said. “I can’t walk another step more.”

“All right,” Jon said. He estimated they’d walked about ten miles the day before,
and today they’d been walking since dawn. Each step was getting harder. He hadn’t
eaten in close to a day, and he had no idea how long it had been since Ruby had.

They sat on the ground by the side of the highway. Jon saw the fifth truck of the
day.

A few days ago he’d waved his ID badge and a trucker had pulled over immediately.
Now they whizzed by with no intention of helping.

Well, they’d help Ruby. But Jon wasn’t letting her out of his sight.

“How much longer do we gotta go?” Ruby asked, rubbing her feet.

“I don’t know,” Jon admitted. “A few more days, I guess.”

“We ain’t gonna make it without food or water,” Ruby said.

“We had water a few hours ago,” Jon said. “We’ll get food somehow.”

“Water probably poisoned,” Ruby said. “Biggest mistake I ever made in my life, letting
you marry me.” She wiggled her toes. “Think we really are married?”

“I know we are,” Jon said. “The minister doesn’t do fake weddings.” He shuddered to
think what Ruby might do if she decided they weren’t really married. It was the only
hold he had on her, and they were still too close to Sexton for him to take any chances.

“Can I ask a question?” he said, following her example and rubbing his feet.

“You’re gonna anyway,” Ruby said. “Gotta obey you, I guess.”

“I don’t think you’ll burn for all eternity if you don’t answer,” Jon said. “What
I want to know . . . Well, when we were at Lisa’s, you were all over me. I had to
push you away. But since we got married, you won’t let me anywhere near you. Why not?”

Ruby shrugged. “You was a claver before,” she said. “Now you’re just a grub. That’s
why not.”

“I’m not a grub,” Jon said.

“Well, you ain’t no claver,” she said. “If you ain’t a claver, you must be a grub.”

“That’s not true,” Jon said. “The world isn’t just clavers and grubs. Take those cops
yesterday. They weren’t grubs. And teachers. They’re not grubs. They’re just not clavers.
They’re something in between.”

“All I know is clavers and grubs,” Ruby said. “And I ain’t letting no grub have me.
Not even if he says he’s my husband.”

“I married you to protect you,” Jon said. “You know what would’ve happened to you
in the mines? You want to guess how long you would’ve lasted?”

“We ain’t gonna last too long unless we get some food,” Ruby said. “Ain’t that an
exit sign up ahead? Maybe there’s a town there.”

Jon squinted. “It’s for Bellingham,” he said. The Sexton team had played them back
in October. “It’s a grubtown. They won’t have any food for us.”

“We ain’t gonna get any anyplace else,” Ruby said.

Jon felt sick at the thought of begging from grubs. “No,” he said.

Ruby stared at him. “I know I promised for better or poorer until death,” she said.
“And I guess God’ll strike me down if I don’t obey you, whether I want to or not.
But there’s no food on this highway, and we don’t know when we’ll see water next.
I say we go to Bellingham, to the church there, and do some work. Ministers are kind.
They gotta be. It’s their job when they ain’t marrying people, even those who don’t
want to.”

It would be different if they worked for food, Jon told himself. It would be different
if they got the food from a minister. Besides, even if he could go a few more miles
before stopping, that didn’t mean Ruby could. He’d made the same vows, for better
or worse. Like it or not, he owed her.

“Okay,” he said. “We’ll go to the church in Bellingham and see if we can work for
food. But then we start back on the road. The farther we get from Sexton the better.”

Ruby put her shoes back on and rose. “You sure do hate that enclave of yours,” she
said.

“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.”

 

Monday, August 3

 

“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.

 

Tuesday, August 4

 

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.

 

Wednesday, August 5

 

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.

 

Thursday, August 6

 

“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.”

“I wish you could have known Sarah,” Jon said. “She wouldn’t put up with too much
from me, either.”

“Well, I guess claver girls is smarter than I thought,” Ruby said.

“Could be,” he said. “Grubber girls are certainly smarter than I thought.”

“That’s ’cause you claver boys never did learn to think,” Ruby said. “Come on, Mr.
Jon. I think I see a stream up ahead. Water ain’t food, but it’s better than nothing.”

 

Friday, August 7

 

“How long we been walking?” Ruby asked.

Jon looked at his watch. “About six hours,” he said.

“Not today,” she said. “How many days we been walking?”

“A week,” Jon said. “Today’s our one-week anniversary.”

“Don’t you think it’s time to honor me by saying where we’re going?” Ruby asked. “Or
don’t you know?”

Jon took his time before answering. Ruby was tough—stronger and smarter than he would
have guessed. But they’d put in over a hundred miles and not in a straight line. There
was no way she could walk back to White Birch on her own, and she wasn’t foolish enough
to take a lift from a trucker.

“We’re going to my brother’s,” Jon said. “If we’re lucky, we should get there Monday
night.”

“I didn’t know you had a brother,” Ruby said.

“Gabe’s my brother,” Jon pointed out.

“That’s not the same,” Ruby said. “This brother of yours, he’s older than you?”

Jon nodded. “Five years,” he said. “He and his wife live in Coolidge.”

“Do they know we’re coming?” she asked. “You call them to let them know?”

“They’re not clavers,” Jon said. “They don’t have a phone.”

“If they ain’t clavers, what are they?” Ruby asked. “Grubs like us, Mr. Jon?”

“I’m not a grub,” Jon said. “As you perfectly well know, Mrs. Ruby.”

“Pardon me,” she said. “Is this brother of yours a grub?”

“No,” Jon said. “He’s a courier. That’s like the cops and the teachers. Not clavers
but not grubs either. Like me.”

“His wife a courier?” Ruby asked.

“She’s a domestic,” Jon said reluctantly.

Ruby burst out laughing. “She’s a grub,” she said. “Marry a grub, you’re a grub, too.
Right, Mr. Jon?”

“They were married before they got here,” Jon said. “Besides, what’s the difference?”

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