“Love you, too,” Jon mumbled, and hung up.
They’d done the right thing, he told himself. Mom wasn’t there. She couldn’t understand what it was like that night.
Besides, what difference did a couple more years of education make to a grub? Miranda and Alex had both gone to high school, and look where they were now.
They all had work to do, grubs and clavers. Jon would finish high school and go to Sexton University to learn whatever the board thought would be most useful to the enclave. He wouldn’t have any more say about his future than a grub.
Maybe the system was wrong. But it was the only system they had. It was the system that kept them, clavers and grubs both, alive.
Sunday, May 24
It was a three-hour bus trip to Worley, and the air was particularly foul.
Jon didn’t care. He played as though he were the only man on the Sexton team. He didn’t just steal the ball from the Worley players. He stole it from his own teammates. He made thirteen shots, and nine of them went in. Sexton won 11–2.
“Nice job, Evans,” Coach said.
“He hogged the ball,” Tyler declared. “Didn’t give the rest of us a chance.”
Coach paused. “You’re right, Tyler,” he said. “Evans, this is a team sport. Let the grubs see who the real clavers are.”
It was a balancing act, Jon told himself. Everything was a balancing act. “I did hog the ball,” he said. “Sorry.”
“Just remember which side you’re on, slip,” Tyler said.
“I’ll remember,” Jon said. As though he’d ever be allowed to forget.
Monday, May 25
Jon was playing horsey with Gabe when the phone rang. Val answered it.
“It’s your mother, Jon,” she said.
Jon eased Gabe off his back and walked over to the phone. Mom called only on Saturdays. It was Miranda, he thought. Something bad must have happened to her.
“Is everything all right?” he asked before Mom had a chance to say hello.
“Everything’s fine,” she said. “Miranda went to the clinic for her checkup on Sunday, and it turns out a friend of yours works there. Sarah Goldman. Her father’s the doctor.”
“I know,” Jon said.
“I had this idea,” Mom declared. “I’ll invite Sarah and her father—and you, of course—for dinner. They could come over from the clinic, and you could take the bus in with Miranda and Alex. Nothing fancy. What do you think?”
Jon thought it was a terrible idea, but he knew better than to say so. “Sarah’s father is very busy,” he said. “He probably wants to go right home at night.”
“Well, we won’t know until we ask,” Mom said. “So why don’t you ask Sarah? Find out what day would be best for her and her father. One day next week. You can tell me on Saturday.”
“Can you afford it?” Jon asked. “Food’s not cheap, Mom.”
“I know what food costs,” Mom said. “Better than you. And yes, we can afford it. Jon, ask Sarah, all right?”
“All right,” Jon said. “I’ll talk to you on Saturday.”
“Have a good week, honey,” Mom said. “I love you.”
“I love you, too,” Jon said.
He did love her, he told himself. She was his mother. She’d starved for him.
So why did he dread the idea of Sarah meeting her?
Tuesday, May 26
Jon woke up at the near sunless dawn. He hated the thought of inviting Sarah and her father to Mom’s apartment. Not because he thought Sarah would be offended. On the contrary. He knew Sarah well enough to know what she’d say. She’d be delighted. All part of her everyone-is-equal attitude.
But Jon knew better. Maybe everyone was equal, or had been before, but everyone didn’t live equally. That was the way the system worked. Clavers had more because they deserved more. Grubs had only as much as they needed to survive, because their survival was important. Not essential, the way claver survival was, but important enough to justify their being fed and sheltered. Grubs could be replaced easily enough. Clavers, except for Zachary’s granddad, were irreplaceable.
Julie should have been the slip. That had been the plan. He’d be the grub, working in a factory most likely. Maybe even in the mines. If Sarah had met him, and there’d be no reason why she would have, she wouldn’t have looked twice at him. For all her talk about everyone being equal, she was a claver girl, and claver girls never looked twice at grubs.
But it hadn’t happened that way. He lived in Sexton, on Julie’s pass. Julie, who had died because of him.
He tried to fall back asleep, but it was impossible. Instead he got dressed and stared out the window until he knew it was time for Val to be making his breakfast.
“I guess I should thank you,” he said, sitting down at the table. Val had already poured him a glass of goat’s milk, and he took a sip.
“For what?” she asked as she scrambled his eggs.
“For not telling the board how I make you get up earlier,” he said. “You didn’t tell them, did you?”
“I didn’t,” Val replied. “But you don’t have to thank me. Around here, it’s better to keep your mouth shut.” She served Jon his eggs, two slices of potato bread toast, and a small bowl of strawberries. A claver breakfast. Sarah was probably eating pretty much the same in her kitchen.
He didn’t want to think about Mom’s breakfast, or Miranda’s or Alex’s. What did Val and Carrie have for breakfast? He’d shared a house with them for two years and had never seen them eat.
Had he ever been told their last names?
“Why aren’t you eating?” Val asked. “Is there something wrong with the eggs?”
“No,” Jon said, taking a mouthful to prove it. “I was just thinking. Are you from Sexton, Val?”
“What makes you ask that?” she replied.
“Just curious,” he said.
“I’m from Nevada,” she said.
“My grandmother lived in Las Vegas,” Jon said. “We don’t know what happened to her.”
“I got out early,” Val said. “My boyfriend was a geologist. We were out of there by the end of May.” She paused. “Four years ago,” she said. “It feels more like four decades.”
“Were you a domestic?” Jon asked.
Val laughed. “I was an assistant professor of philosophy,” she said. “Not a lot of jobs for philosophy professors these days.”
“But your boyfriend must be okay,” Jon said. “Geologists were selected. Does he live in Sexton?”
“He died from the flu,” Val said. “We were in an evac camp. I kept going east because I didn’t know what else to do. Then I heard there were jobs around here. They like domestics to be college educated. Carrie was a marriage counselor before.”
“Do you mind being a grub?” Jon asked, picking at the strawberries.
“I mind the term,” Val said. “It’s offensive.”
“But everyone calls you that,” Jon said. “Why be offended?”
“Everyone can call you ugly,” Val said. “That doesn’t mean you can’t be offended.”
Jon stared at her. Val burst out laughing.
“I’m sorry,” she said. “You’re not ugly, Jon. You’re a nice kid and you’re nice looking and I don’t know how we got onto this subject. Eat your breakfast, and don’t think so much.”
Jon took a bite of his eggs. He’d wait until tomorrow to invite Sarah. He’d had enough socializing with grubs for one day without having to hear Sarah go on and on about how everybody was equal.
Wednesday, May 27
Sarah wouldn’t stop talking on the way to the bus stop. The clinic was understaffed. It was impossible to give the people the care they needed. There were children with rickets. Did Jon know what caused rickets? A lack of calcium and sunlight. People in Sexton took vitamin pills and calcium supplements and drank goat’s milk while children in White Birch had rickets.
“Do you drink goat’s milk?” Jon asked. “Do you take vitamins?”
&nbs
p; Sarah scowled. “Daddy makes me,” she said.
“And does he drink goat’s milk?” Jon continued. “Does he take vitamins?”
“He has to,” Sarah said. “He’s the only doctor for all the people in White Birch. It’s important for him to stay healthy.”
“Exactly,” Jon said. “That’s why clavers get goat’s milk and vitamins. It’s more important for us to stay healthy than it is for the grubs.”
“I hate you, Jon Evans,” Sarah said.
Somehow it didn’t seem like the right time to invite her to dinner.
Thursday, May 28
Sarah was unusually quiet that morning, and Jon took advantage by inviting her and her father for dinner at his mother’s. He had to know by Saturday and waiting until Friday was too risky.
“My mother says you met my sister Miranda at the clinic,” he began. “You never told me.”
“I can’t talk about patients,” Sarah said. “But I wanted to tell you. I liked her a lot. She’s so proud of you.”
“She is?” Jon asked. It hadn’t occurred to him that Miranda thought about him at all.
“She couldn’t stop talking about you,” Sarah said. “How you’re great with Gabe and so good at soccer. How brave you’ve been, living with Lisa and not with your mother.” She paused. “I never think about it, what it must be like for you. I’d hate it if I had to live apart from my father. I’m sorry, Jon. I always tell you when you drive me crazy, which is practically every day, but I don’t give you enough credit for who you are, what you go through.”
“It’s okay,” Jon said. “I talk to Mom every week. And sometimes I see Alex, when he’s driving the bus I’m on. Besides, they want me to be here. It was their choice. Miranda insisted I take the pass.” Julie’s pass, he thought. What would Julie have wanted?
“Still,” Sarah said. She reached over, turning Jon so he was facing her, and then she kissed him.
Jon held on to her, trying not to think of Julie. He’d dated a few claver girls and enjoyed himself with plenty of grubber girls. He never thought about Julie, what he’d done to Julie, when he was with any of them.
Only Sarah. Because Sarah was the only girl he’d ever cared about. The only one other than Julie.
“Listen,” he said, breaking away. “My mother wants you to come to dinner. Any day you want. You and your father. I’ll be there. Ask your father, okay?”
He expected Sarah to look pleased, not just because it would give her a chance to go slumming but because it was his family and he was important to her.
Instead Sarah looked doubtful. “I don’t know,” she said.
“What do you mean you don’t know?” Jon said. “We’re not good enough for you?”
“No, of course not,” Sarah said. “I mean, of course you are. You know what I mean. It’s wonderful your mother wants to have us over for dinner. But Daddy hasn’t done anything since Mother died except move here and work. It’s been less than four months, Jon. It feels like forever, but it really hasn’t been that long.”
“It’s just dinner,” Jon asked. “He has to eat. Ask him, okay? Mom’ll kill me if you don’t.”
Sarah laughed. “I’ll ask him,” she said, and she kissed Jon again. “I’d love to meet your mother. I’ll let you know tomorrow, I promise.”
“Promise,” Jon said, and kissed her. But in the distance he could hear Julie crying, “No.”
Friday, May 29
“Daddy says yes,” Sarah said as soon as she saw Jon. “He thinks it’s a wonderful idea. Monday, all right? We’ll go straight from the clinic to your mother’s.”
“Monday,” Jon said. “I’ll tell Mom when she calls tomorrow.”
He tried to feel happy, but all he could think of was Mom’s miserable apartment. Sarah’s home—Zach’s grandfather’s home—was a ten-room Victorian with a wraparound porch, a greenhouse, and three domestics. Sarah might bandage grubs, but she’d never eaten with one.
“It won’t be fancy,” he said.
“It doesn’t have to be,” Sarah replied. “It’s family.”
Saturday, May 30
Jon knocked on Val’s door.
“What is it?” she asked. “I’m leaving for the bus in a minute.”
“I know,” Jon said, handing her two books. “I took these out of the library. They’re philosophy books. I thought maybe you’d like to read them.”
Val looked the books over. “Aristotle,” she said. “William James. That’s quite the combination.”
“The library didn’t have much of a philosophy section,” Jon replied. “I know we keep you pretty busy, but I thought you could read them before you went to bed. You can keep them as long as you want. The library works on an honor system.”
“That’s very sweet of you, Jon,” Val said. “Thank you. I appreciate it.”
“Well, you want to keep your hand in,” Jon said, “so when they’re looking for philosophy professors again, you’ll be ready.”
“Any day now,” Val said. “Thank you, Jon. I’ll start reading them Monday night. But now I’ve got to run if I want to catch the bus to White Birch.”
It was funny, Jon thought. Monday night he’d be in White Birch.
He didn’t think that all the philosophy in the world would make the evening any easier.
Monday, June 1
Jon had never taken a grubber bus before, and he hoped he never would have to again. It was an old school bus, and it was crammed with fifty or more grubs, their stench so strong he could hardly breathe.
His claver ID badge indicated he had the right to sit wherever he wanted. He grabbed a seat, then offered it to Miranda, who took it gratefully. Jon stood, shoved between Alex and a burly grub who looked like he’d beat all the clavers to death if he ever had the chance.
There was one guard on the bus, standing next to the driver. One guard with a semiautomatic to protect him against fifty grubs. Of course if he started shooting, Jon was as likely to be killed as any of them.
Never again, he promised himself. One grubber bus trip in to appease Mom. After this he’d take a claver bus or not come in at all.
The grubs stampeded out of the bus when it reached the White Birch terminal. Miranda waited until it had emptied before getting out. Alex helped her down the steps and embraced her.
“How do you feel?” he asked. “Up to the walk?”
Miranda grinned. “What if I say no?” she replied. “You going to carry me home?”
Alex laughed. “Jon’ll do the carrying,” he said. “I’ll navigate.”
“How far is it?” Jon asked. He had never thought about how the grubs got from the terminal to their homes.
“It’s not bad,” Alex said. “About three miles.”
“Three miles?” Jon said. “You walk that every day?”
“Twice a day,” Alex replied.
“You get used to it,” Miranda said. “It would be okay if the air was cleaner. Us pregnant women are supposed to get our exercise.”
“You’re on your feet all day long,” Alex said. “When Carlos and I get our truck, you’ll stay home, Miranda. You and Laura. You’ll be ladies of leisure.”
“What about that place Matt talked about?” Jon said.
Alex shook his head. “Not here,” he said softly. “Not with so many people around.”
“We haven’t decided anything,” Miranda said. “No decisions until the baby’s born.”
“Do you have a boy’s name yet?” Jon asked.
Miranda laughed. “Tell him your latest one, Alex,” she said.
“Francis Patrick Xavier Mulrooney Morales,” Alex said.
“What?” Jon said.
“See,” Miranda said. “I told you, darling. It’s a ridiculous name. Worse than Harold.”
“Father Mulrooney saved my life,” Alex said. “My sanity and my life. I owe him everything.”
“You don’t owe him your firstborn’s name,” Miranda said. “It better be a girl.”
“You really thinkin
g about Harold?” Jon asked. That had been Dad’s name, but everyone called him Hal.
“As much as we’re thinking about Francis Patrick Xavier Mulrooney,” Miranda said. “I like Daniel. I think it sounds good with Morales. But Alex doesn’t want me to name the baby for an old boyfriend.”
“You don’t see me suggesting an old girlfriend’s name,” Alex said.
“You don’t have any old girlfriends,” Miranda said. “Except me.”
“She’s right,” Alex said to Jon. “I was saving myself for her. I just didn’t know it.”
“Speaking of girlfriends,” Miranda said, “Sarah seems very nice. Are you serious about her, Jon?”
“There’s no point being serious about anyone,” Jon said. “If Lisa doesn’t pass her evaluation, I’ll leave Sexton with her.”
“Mom would hate it if you did,” Miranda said.
“He won’t have to,” Alex said. “One of his friends would take him in. Gabe, too. They’d find a home for him in Sexton.”
“That would be awful for Lisa,” Miranda said. “Gabe’s her life. If she had to leave him behind, it would kill her.”
“Well, we won’t have that problem,” Alex said. “No one’s kicking us out of White Birch. Little Mulrooney is stuck with us.”
Miranda ignored him. “Is Lisa worried?” she asked. “When will she hear?”
“Pretty soon,” Jon said. “And yeah, she’s worried. She hasn’t decided what she’ll do about Gabe if she has to leave.”
“There’s no choice,” Alex said. “Take Gabe away from Sexton? If she really loves him, she’ll let him be adopted. There’s no life for kids here.”
“Our kid is going to live here,” Miranda said.
“Our kid doesn’t have a choice,” Alex said. “Jon, tell Miranda what Gabe’s life is like. The food. The toys. The clean clothes.”
Last Survivors 04: Shade of the Moon Page 6