The Shade of the Moon (3 page)

“Fine,” Jon said. “I don’t belong.”

“It’s my grandfather!” Zachary yelled. “You stupid slip.”

“What the hell are you talking about?” Jon said.

“Zach’s grandfather was a doctor,” Luke said.

“A great man,” Zachary said. “A great doctor. He was a doctor in Sexton for over fifty
years.”

“It was crazy when the government turned Sexton into an enclave,” Luke said. “People
trying to keep their homes, their families. We’re the lucky ones. Our parents all
were selected, so we got to stay.”

“They said Granddad would have to leave,” Zachary said. “Fifty years didn’t count
for anything.”

“But my father stepped in,” Tyler said. “Dad owned half of Sexton. He had powerful
friends. So they had to listen. They worked out a compromise. Zach’s granddad got
appointed as the White Birch Clinic doctor, and they let him stay in Sexton.”

“That’s the job Sarah’s father has,” Jon said.

Luke nodded. “There were some problems at the clinic,” he said.

Zachary took a swipe at Luke, but Tyler got between them.

“There weren’t any problems!” Zachary screamed. “It was lies. All lies.”

“Grubs lie,” Ryan said. “The women lie worst of all. They’ll say anything to hurt
a claver.”

“Only good thing was they shut those bitches up,” Zachary said. “Sent them to the
mines. Hope they’re dead.”

“I bet they are,” Ryan said. “No one lasts long in the mines.”

“I don’t get it,” Jon said. “What does any of this have to do with Sarah?”

“Sarah’s father is a doctor,” Tyler said. “He must have done something real bad, because
he got kicked out of his enclave. Only he has powerful friends, even more powerful
than Dad. So they fired Zach’s grandfather and gave his job to Sarah’s father.”

“Not just the job,” Zachary said. “They gave Granddad’s home, the furniture, the grubs—all
of it—to Sarah’s father. Everything. They wouldn’t even let Granddad stay here with
us. They won’t let him live in my aunt’s enclave either. He had to move to the grubtown
near her. My grandfather, living with those pigs.”

“Sarah and her father shouldn’t be allowed in Sexton,” Ryan said. “They were thrown
out of one enclave; they shouldn’t be allowed in another.”

“But it’s not like they knew your granddad,” Jon said to Zachary. “They’re not responsible
for what happened.”

“That’s what I mean about you not understanding,” Tyler said. “It’s the slip in you,
Evans. Zach’s grandfather is a great man. People around here know that. No one believes
what those grub bitches said. He could have kept his job, his house, except they needed
a place to put Sarah’s father.”

“But it’s still not Sarah’s fault,” Jon said.

“Jon, drop it,” Luke said. “It doesn’t matter if it’s Sarah’s fault. She doesn’t belong
here. No one wants her here.”

“You’re either with her or you’re with us,” Tyler said. “Take your pick, Evans.”

Jon looked around the schoolyard. Sarah had already gone inside.

He owed her nothing, he told himself. He owed Lisa everything. He’d made her a promise,
and he had no choice but to keep it.

“I pick you,” he said. “Sorry, Zach. I didn’t understand.”

“No one expected you to,” Tyler said, slapping Jon on the back. “You’re a slip, Evans,
but you have possibilities.”

Tuesday, May 5

Cowboy Gabe had time to shoot only one more bandit while riding his gallant steed,
Jon, before going to bed, when the doorbell rang.

Lisa looked up from her paperwork. “Who could that be?” she asked.

“Come on, cowboy,” Jon said. “Let’s find out.”

Gabe slid up so that he was resting on Jon’s shoulders as Jon rose and walked to the
door. Sarah was standing there.

Gabe stuck his finger out and pointed it at Sarah. “Bang, bang!” he yelled. “I shot
you.”

Sarah promptly collapsed on the front step. Gabe looked down at her. “I didn’t really
shoot you,” he said, a worried expression on his face.

Sarah got up laughing. “I’m glad to hear it,” she replied.

“Jon, aren’t you going to introduce us?” Lisa asked, walking over to the front hallway.

“Oh yeah,” Jon said. “Lisa, this is Sarah. She’s new at school. Sarah, this is Lisa.
Lisa Evans. My stepmother.”

Lisa smiled and extended her hand for Sarah to shake. “It’s nice to meet you, Sarah,”
she said. “Jon’s friends don’t come over nearly enough.”

“She didn’t come to see me,” Jon said. “She wanted to meet Cowboy Gabe.”

“It’s time for Cowboy Gabe to go to bed,” Lisa said. “Jon, let him down.”

“No!” Gabe screamed, but Lisa and Jon ignored him. Jon set him on his feet, and Lisa
took hold of his hand. Gabe struggled, but Lisa held on and managed to get him upstairs.

“Gabe’s nanny has a headache,” Jon said. “Lisa always says good night to him, but
she doesn’t usually have to get him into bed.”

“I don’t care about Gabe’s nanny,” Sarah said. “I want to talk to you, Jon.”

“Not here,” Jon said. “We have a garage. Let’s go there.”

“The garage?” Sarah asked.

“It’s private,” Jon replied. “I don’t want Lisa to hear us.”

“You don’t even know what I’m going to say!” Sarah cried.

“I can guess,” Jon said. “All right?” He walked out the front door, and Sarah followed
him to the garage.

“This is awful,” Sarah said. “Has anyone been in here in five years? Can you at least
turn a light on?”

“I don’t think there is one,” Jon said. “Just say what you want, Sarah. I’m ready.”

“Ready for what?” Sarah asked. “Ready to embarrass me some more? I thought you liked
me. I didn’t invite you to sit with me. Not at lunch, not on the bus. One minute I
see you; the next minute you’re gone. And the minute after that, you act like I’m
invisible. You walk right past me like I’m not even there.”

“I know,” Jon said. “Sarah, I’m sorry. I do like you. I like you more than any girl
since I moved here. But Zachary, my friend—well we’re on the team together—and the
thing is you moved into his grandfather’s house. Your dad took his granddad’s job.”

“Do you know what that man did?” Sarah asked. “What he did to his patients?”

“No,” Jon said. “I don’t know, and even if you tell me, I won’t believe you. Grubs
lie, Sarah. They lie all the time. Zach says they lied about his grandfather, and
I believe him. And my friends believe him. Try to see it from Zach’s point of view.
His grandfather was forced out of town, and you stole his home.”

“Daddy didn’t ask for the job,” Sarah said. “And we sure didn’t ask for that house.”

“Tyler says you were thrown out of your enclave,” Jon said. “That someone pulled strings
and got your father this job.”

“My father is a great man,” Sarah said.

“That’s exactly what Zach says about his grandfather,” Jon replied. “I’d probably
say it about my dad if he were still around. Sarah, I can’t afford to let Zach hate
me. Tyler’s on his side, and his father’s on the town board. Lisa’s up for her evaluation.
I have to protect her.”

“Do you like them?” Sarah asked. “Zach, Tyler, all of them? Do you even like them?”

“Yeah,” Jon said. “As it happens, I like them a lot. They’re my friends, Sarah. My
teammates.”

“What would I have been?” Sarah asked. “If Tyler and Zach didn’t hate me?”

Jon reached over and kissed her. Sarah kissed him back, then pulled away.

“Oh boy,” she said. “Now I see the advantages of this garage.”

Jon laughed. “I want to see you,” he said. “Just not where it will upset the guys.
Not until after Lisa’s evaluation.”

“When is it?” Sarah asked.

“In a week or two,” Jon said. “Can we keep things quiet until then?”

Sarah stood there, absolutely still. Jon felt her slipping away. He kissed her again,
but this time she didn’t respond.

“We could walk to the bus together,” he said. “Where do you live?”

“Elm Street,” she said.

Jon thought about it. “That’s eight blocks from here,” he said. “I’ll ask Val to wake
up twenty minutes earlier and make my breakfast. That should give me enough time to
get to your house.”

“Why don’t you wake up twenty minutes earlier and make your own breakfast?” Sarah
asked.

“I can’t,” Jon said. “I don’t know how.”

“You’ve never made your own breakfast?” Sarah asked, and Jon could see she was struggling
not to laugh. He took that as a good sign.

“Maybe when I was a kid,” he replied. “But that’s what Val’s for, to make our meals
and clean the house.”

“That’s not what she’s for,” Sarah said. “It’s what she does.”

“Fine,” Jon said. “It’s what she does. And she’s grateful for the job. We treat her
well, and she knows it. There’s nothing wrong with me telling her to get up a few
minutes earlier every day to make my breakfast.”

“I wish you understood,” Sarah said. “Working at the clinic, I’m starting to see things
differently. Maybe you would too if you knew any laborers.”

“You mean grubs,” Jon said. “And I know some.”

“I don’t mean your domestics,” Sarah said. “I mean friends, family.”

“My sister’s a grub,” he replied angrily. “She works in the greenhouses. Her husband’s
a grub. He’s a bus driver, here in Sexton. You don’t have to tell me grubs are people,
the same as clavers. Are any of your family grubs? Any of your friends?”

Sarah was silent.

“I’m not the only claver with family in White Birch,” Jon said. “Most everybody has
someone there. Maybe their dad was selected but their aunt and their cousins weren’t.
So they settled in White Birch, hoping things would get better. And maybe things will
get better, and there won’t be clavers anymore or grubs. But like it or not, that’s
how things are.”

“How things are stinks,” Sarah said.

“I don’t see you moving into a grubtown,” Jon said. “You had your chance, but you
chose an enclave.”

Sarah turned away from him. Jon touched her face, and felt her tears.

“I’m sorry,” he said. “I’ll make my own breakfast. Can we walk to the bus together?”

She faced him, and he kissed the tears off her cheek. “I know I sound awful,” she
said. “I didn’t used to. It’s just I feel so alone.”

Jon nodded. “I know how that feels,” he said. “We all do. Clavers, grubs, all of us.
We all feel alone. We all feel exactly like you.”

Wednesday, May 6

Jon tried making his own breakfast, but he burned everything.

When he got home from soccer practice, he asked Val if she’d mind getting up twenty
minutes earlier to make his breakfast. He didn’t bother to explain why.

Val told him it was no problem, exactly as Jon had known she would. He couldn’t figure
out why Sarah had made such a fuss.

Thursday, May 7

Jon had spent the week eating lunch and joking with his teammates, rebuilding their
relationship. Sarah was a prime target of their ridicule. He told himself it didn’t
matter since she couldn’t hear what they were saying. She knew he liked her, and that
was what counted.

He was always a good student, mostly because he was afraid of the consequences if
he wasn’t, but he worked particularly hard that week. He was the first to raise his
hand when his teacher asked a question. He participated actively in the discussions.
He did everything short of licking ass.

That he saved for soccer practice. No one did more reps, no one pushed harder, no
one took practices more seriously. He apologized again to Coach, and nodded thoughtfully
when Coach lectured him on the importance not merely of winning but of winning big.
Ryan and Luke snickered, but Jon acted as though he’d never truly understood all that,
but now he did. Grubs had to be kept in their place, and it was his job to see to
it they were. His job, except, he hoped, for the upcoming game.

Even if Matt wasn’t going to be in White Birch that Sunday, Jon would have been reluctant
to play. The Sexton team was scheduled to play against the York grubs. York was a
backcountry town. It could be reached only by driving over untended roads, and the
trip took at least four hours.

If that wasn’t bad enough, the York grubs didn’t seem to understand they were grubs.
None of them commuted. Instead clavers came to them. York was the chief manufacturer
of potka. They grew runty potatoes, the kind no one would ever have eaten before the
bad times, and they fermented them into the only alcohol readily available in the
area. They had a long history of moonshining, and they knew what they were doing.

Jon had played in two games against them. Both times the Sexton bus carried twice
as many guards as usual. Both times the York team played for blood, and the only way
the grubs were appeased after their defeat was by the enormous amount of potka the
Sexton clavers purchased from them. Both times Coach proclaimed the clavers had taught
them their place, and both times no one cared because they were too drunk to listen.
The only sober one was the driver, and that was because he was a grub and knew better
than to get drunk in front of clavers.

Even if Jon weren’t the top scorer on the team, Coach would want him there on Sunday,
partly because he was a slip and partly as punishment for his lousy play the week
before.

But Jon asked anyway. He was scared of Coach, but he was more scared of Mom.

“No,” Coach said. “Forget it, Evans. No special privileges for you.”

Tyler walked over to them. “Excuse me, Coach,” he said. “I’m scheduled for this Sunday
off, but I’d like to play.”

Coach snorted. “No one wants to play York,” he said.

“Yeah, I know,” Tyler said. “But my father has family around there. He’d like them
to have a chance to see me play.”

“You put him up to this?” Coach asked Jon.

“No sir,” Jon said. “It’s news to me.”

“It would mean a lot to my father,” Tyler said. “I know I’m not as good as Evans,
but I’ll have extra incentive. Dad hates that side of his family. He wants me there
when we kick their ass.”