Ruby in the Sky

by Jeanne Zulick Ferruolo

  Abigail hiked harder and faster. I tried to keep up.

  “There must be someone else who knows about the work you did on Apollo 11? How come I can’t find anything on the Internet or in any books? How come no one else knows about a computer scientist named Abigail Jacobs?”

  Abigail wasn’t hiking anymore. She was staring into the woods. “I was on my way home from Boston when it happened. I … I didn’t know…”

  “When what happened?”

  “The nor’easter. They must have gone out to look for me,” she whispered. “It was all my fault. They must have thought I had gotten stuck. It was snowing so hard. And the ice.”

  “Who? Who was looking for you?”

  “And then there was nothing. For two months I waited for—for … something. Anything. People wanted answers. I had no answers.”

  “Who wanted answers, Abigail?” I hiked until I faced her, but her eyes were dark and unfocused.

  “Abigail!” I yelled. “You need to move into your house. That officer … he’s going to return. People in town say bad things about you because they don’t know you. They think you can’t take care of yourself. They think you’re dangerous.”

  Abigail pivoted from me and began snowshoeing toward camp. “I can’t do it,” she mumbled. “I can’t.”

  “Abigail, do you really have a rock from the moon?”

  Abigail hiked faster.

  “Maybe that would be enough. Maybe if we showed them the moon rock, then everyone would finally know the amazing stuff you’ve done. They’d see how smart you are. Maybe they’d leave you alone.”

  Silence.

  “You don’t even have to do it. If you give me the moon rock, I’ll show them for you.” When Abigail didn’t answer, I stopped hiking.

  “None of it’s true, is it, Abigail?” I said. “There is no moon rock.”

  Abigail pulled her scarves tight and spun away. I tried to keep up, but she was moving too fast.

  By the time I got back to camp, she had already removed her snowshoes. I watched her walk up to the front door of the house and tear down the paper Prattle had nailed there. She crumpled it in her fist and tossed it in the fire. Then she retreated to her shed and ducked inside. The latch clicked.

  I stared at the boarded-up house. “What are you hiding?” I asked it. “Who is Abigail Jacobs?” But even as I asked those questions, I knew the answers didn’t really matter.

  Even if I told people that Abigail was an important computer scientist who had worked with famous astronauts and had a moon rock, what difference would it make? No one would believe me. I needed something more than my words.

  I thought about Mom and court and how Annie was so brave, the way she told her clients’ stories. But Annie didn’t use only words. She gathered evidence, too. I knew that was what I needed to prove Abigail was who she claimed to be. Evidence.

  I scanned the house knowing there was only one place to find it.

  Stay out, stay out, stay out, the house seemed to warn.

  But I had other plans.

  CHAPTER

  12

  On Friday morning, Mr. Andrews greeted us. “Welcome, wax figures! Only ten days to showtime!” He cleared his throat and waited for everyone to calm down. “I have made copious notes on your index cards.” He strolled down the aisles placing cards on desks. “If you see a lot of red ink, it means you are missing information. You have three days to revise and get these back to me.”

  When Mr. Andrews’s boots stopped at my desk, I looked up. He placed my cards in front of me. A+ was printed on top. “Great job, Ruby. You worked hard on these.” His eyes crinkled in a smile.

  Ahmad turned, beaming. “Congratulations, Ruby,” he whispered.

  Mr. Andrews continued up the aisle. I removed the rubber band and sifted through my cards. There were checks and exclamation points. Excellent research! Mr. Andrews had written. I felt my cheeks grow warm, and I felt a lightness I had only felt when I’d gone flying with Abigail. For a moment, I thought that maybe I really could do this. I was so happy right then, even Dakota’s icy stare didn’t bother me.

  * * *

  After school, I followed Ahmad to Rucki’s. Mom was working and I wanted to show her my A+ cards.

  Inside Rucki’s, Mr. Saleem poured coffee for two men huddled at a table. I recognized them as Mayor Eton and Officer Prattle. I heard the rumble of Mom’s car starting out back and wondered if she’d taken off when they showed up. I wanted to leave, too, but Mr. Saleem waved me and Ahmad over.

  “It’s a safety issue,” Mayor Eton said as he poured maple syrup into his coffee. He wore a business suit with a bright red tie.

  “I went there,” Prattle said. “But she wouldn’t let me inside. There’s nothing I can do without a warrant.”

  “It was one thing when she stayed inside her—camp or whatever you’d call it,” Mayor Eton said. “But lately, folks have been seeing her all over town. My daughter says she’s at the town green every morning feeding birds and attracting who knows what kind of vermin. And my wife saw her walking right here on Main Street. Parents have called to report her trespassing at the school. She was standing there, just staring at the kids. There’s no telling what she’s capable of. It’s got to stop.”

  “It doesn’t work like that, Jim. I can’t haul an eighty-year-old lady into the station because some people are nervous,” Officer Prattle said. “She hasn’t done anything wrong.”

  “I’m the head of the town council. I ran a campaign that promised to clean up Fortin. She’s a vagrant and she’s making me look like I’m not doing my job.” He sipped his coffee. “Plus there’s a town ordinance now. I didn’t do that myself. The council voted for that.”

  Mr. Saleem winked and put plates in front of Ahmad and me, but I wasn’t hungry anymore.

  Prattle sipped his coffee. “You know, my father was one of the detectives who investigated the accident. You know, with her family.”

  “What accident?”

  “Before your time,” Prattle said. “Geez, it must have been at least forty years ago.”

  “Oh yeah. My wife told me about that,” the mayor said. “Didn’t they think she had something to do with it?”

  “No, it wasn’t like that. But you know how rumors start. People wanted answers and the police didn’t have any.” Prattle snapped his fingers. “It was like her whole family vanished into thin air.” He lifted his coffee mug. “Of course, it didn’t help that she’s always been a loner. For as long as she’s lived in Fortin, no one really knows her. I’d almost forgotten about her until she started showing up around town.”

  The mayor shook his head. “You should have forced your way into that house, Prattle. If she resisted, you’d have a reason to arrest her. Then we wouldn’t have to wait.” Mayor Eton laughed. “Have you heard that story about how she worked with astronauts?” He snorted. “The stuff people make up!”

  Prattle shook his head. “I doubt she knows humans have been to the moon.”

  I took a sip of water, but my throat only grew tighter.

  “One week, Prattle. If you can’t get the job done, I’ll find someone who will.” Eton gulped down the rest of his coffee. “We’re doing her a favor.”

  As the men stood to leave, my heart started beating in my ears. I thought back to the afternoon at school when the kids on the bus were making fun of Abigail, and I had sat there without saying anything. Something inside me couldn’t let that happen again. Without even knowing what I was going to do, I felt my body rise up.

  Mr. Saleem stepped through the swinging door as Mayor Eton punched his arms into the sleeves of his long black coat.

  “We’ll take the check, Mr.… um…”

  “Saleem. I am Mohammed Saleem,” he said. “It’s on the house, gentlemen.”

  Eton laughed. “I can’t get used to John Rucki not being here.” He put a dollar on the table and took a step toward the door.

  “Mr. Eton,” I said.

  “Huh?” He turn
ed.

  “Umm … I heard you talking about Abigail Jacobs and I … um … I…”

  Eton gave me a puzzled look that made the prickly pit in my throat grow even bigger. When I didn’t say anything, he yanked the door open. The blast of cold air revived me.

  “I know Abigail Jacobs. And she’s … uh … she’s amazing really, and not only does she take care of, you know, herself, obviously, but she takes care of a lot of animals like birds, deer, rabbits, and…”

  The mayor didn’t step outside, but he let go of the door. The bell dinged as it shut. I felt my face get hot.

  “Were you eavesdropping, young lady?” he said.

  I tried to swallow, but my throat was too tight.

  The mayor put his hands on his hips and stared at me. “That is very rude.”

  “Wait a minute,” Prattle interrupted. “You’re the girl who was at her camp the other day.”

  “I go to school with Dakota,” I blurted, unsure why that came out.

  Mayor Eton crossed his arms.

  “And I can prove Abigail Jacobs is really brilliant,” I said. “She did work with astronauts. I can prove it, because they gave her a moon rock.”

  The mayor started laughing. He nudged Prattle, who looked as if he was trying to figure out where else he’d seen me.

  “You do that.” The mayor laughed. “You bring me that moon rock. Ha-ha. We’ll put it in a museum for the whole town to see.” He pulled the door open again. “And from now on, be a good girl and mind your own business.” The bell jingled loudly as the door slammed behind them. I could hear their muffled laughter outside.

  My hands were shaking as I sat back down at the counter. I took a sip of water.

  Ahmad gripped my shoulder. “You are very brave, my friend,” he said.

  “Ahmad,” I said. “What are you doing tomorrow?”

  “It is Saturday. I am working here.”

  “What about at six a.m.?” I said. “I need your help.”

  Ahmad pushed up his glasses with his fist. “Of course, Ruby. I will always help you. But I must do morning prayer before the rising of the sun.”

  “It won’t take long. Can you meet me at the bottom of my driveway?”

  “At six a.m.?”

  I nodded.

  “It will be dark.”

  “Yes,” I said. “It will be very dark.”

  CHAPTER

  13

  The next morning, the five-thirty alarm woke me with a jolt. My brain tried to trick me into going back to sleep, but I quickly remembered why I had set it for so early.

  I had slept in my clothes so I wouldn’t make noise getting dressed. In the kitchen, Bob stretched and watched me pack Mom’s flashlight and some carrot tops for Scrappy. As I slipped into my boots, he began to whine. I knew that if I didn’t take him, he’d bark and wake Mom. I hitched his leash and locked the door behind us.

  Outside, the sky was so black it looked as if you could drink it. I felt the darkness seep into my skin. The moon shone like a white disk cut in half. I stood in the road staring at it. “I’ll see you on the moon tonight,” I whispered.

  “Ruby?”

  The beam of a flashlight landed on me. I nearly jumped out of my skin. Bob barked.

  “What—Is that a dog?” Ahmad said. The light from his flashlight trembled.

  Bob pulled loose and pounced on Ahmad.

  “Help!” Ahmad yelled.

  “Shush, Ahmad! Down, Bob!” I grabbed the end of Bob’s leash and pulled on him. Bob rolled onto his back. “Are you okay, Ahmad? I am so sorry!”

  Ahmad smoothed his coat.

  “This is Bob. He does that when he likes someone. He would never bite you.” I glanced at the house to see if a light blinked on from the noise, but it stayed dark. “You can pet him,” I whispered.

  Ahmad extended a shaking hand. Bob returned the favor with a generous lick. Ahmad giggled.

  “Where does this dog sleep?”

  “In my room.”

  “Inside your house?”

  “Yeah, of course. Haven’t you seen a dog before?”

  Ahmad shook his head. “Not like this one.”

  “We need to go,” I said.

  “Where are we going, Ruby?”

  “We are going to Abigail’s camp,” I told him.

  “Oh, will we feed the birds?”

  “Hmmm, something like that.”

  Ahmad followed me down Specter Hill Road. The breeze kicked up and the wind whistled. With each gust, the skeleton trees rattled their warning: Stay out, stay out, stay out. But I wasn’t listening anymore.

  When we got to the bottom of Abigail’s driveway, I shone my flashlight under the pine tree. Scrappy froze in its beam. “Ahmad, this is Scrappy. I feed her every day.” I dumped out the vegetables I had brought.

  “You have many pets, Ruby.”

  As Scrappy nibbled on a carrot top, we made our way down Abigail’s driveway. When we got to her camp, the fire was completely out. There was no sound from the shed. I looked at my watch: 6:10. I knew I had timed it perfectly. Abigail should have just left for the town green. She wouldn’t be back for at least an hour.

  I threw my gloves on the ground and opened the seed can. I shone the flashlight inside.

  “Will we wait for Mrs. Abigail, Ruby?”

  I dug my hand into the seeds, my fingers searching. I swished my arm around until I felt the cold metal. I closed my hand and pulled out the key ring.

  “What are those keys for?” Ahmad asked.

  I climbed onto the stone step, then glanced toward the driveway. Bob was sniffing around the fire pit.

  “What are you doing, Ruby?”

  The house was silent now. There were no rattling windows or voices warning me to stay out. I felt like the house wanted me to come inside. It didn’t want to carry its heavy secrets anymore. I knew it as much as I knew the moon rock had to be real.

  I started to insert a key, but my ice-cold fingers weren’t working right. I fumbled and the keys fell into the snow. I fished them out. Hurry! Hurry! Hurry! my brain shouted in time with my pounding heart. I wiped snow off the keys and tried the first one, but it wouldn’t go in.

  “Ruby?” Ahmad was next to me.

  I inserted the second key, and was surprised it fit. But when I tried to turn it, it wouldn’t budge. I jiggled it. Nothing.

  “Ruby?”

  I pulled that key out and tried the last one. It went right in. As I turned it, I heard a click. I pushed and the door yawned open. The snow barricade stayed frozen in place. Bob trotted over.

  “Come on, Ahmad,” I said. “We are going to find that moon rock.”

  “What?”

  “The moon rock. I need you to help me find it.”

  Ahmad stared at me. “Inside the house of Mrs. Abigail?”

  “Well, yeah, where else would it be?”

  “Oh, no, Ruby. We have not been invited into Mrs. Abigail’s house.”

  I hadn’t expected this. I had thought Ahmad would do everything I said.

  “Well, no, but we need to…,” I said, hating the whine coming from my voice. “It’s our only chance to find out.”

  “Find out what?” he said.

  “To find out if Abigail really worked with astronauts. I need to know if … well, if she really did what she says she did. If she has a moon rock inside her house, it will prove it, and I’ll be able to stop them from arresting her.”

  Even in the dark, I could see Ahmad’s eyes grow big and round. “You want to find this rock to show the policeman or to show Ruby?”

  My mouth fell open in surprise that Ahmad would think that about me. Surprise that he was probably right.

  “This is trespass, Ruby. It’s stealing,” Ahmad said. “It’s wrong.” He turned and started walking away.

  “Ahmad!” I yelled. “I am going inside with or without you.” I lifted my foot to step over the snow barricade. Before going in, I glanced back. “Ahmad?” I called.

  But Ahmad was gone.


  I didn’t have time to worry about him. Bob trotted behind me. “Oh no you don’t,” I said. “Sit, Bob. Stay!” Bob sat.

  I stared into the dark shadows of the house. Voices filled my head: People knew she murdered them. It’s her conscience that keeps her outside. My uncle always tells a story about the Bird Lady killing her family. I can never sleep when he tells that story. There are only ghosts in that house.

  Then I took a deep breath and stepped into the darkness.

  * * *

  Inside, I breathed the house’s stale air. It smelled as if a whole bunch of winters had been trapped there. My teeth chattered as I shone the flashlight. Thick dust floated in its beam.

  I was standing in some kind of workroom or carpentry shop. One wall was filled with tiny holes with metal hooks coming out of them. The hooks held every kind of tool—short saws, fat saws, hammers, a bunch of iron bars—skinny ones, long ones, thick ones. A workbench ran across the length of the wall. It was lined with jars of nails and screws. I placed the keys there so I wouldn’t forget them on my way out.

  Along the opposite wall, different-sized coats hung in a row. There was a plaid wool coat, a gray sweater, a large yellow raincoat, and a kid’s purple jacket.

  Below them, women’s heels, men’s slippers, and pink snow boots waited for feet. A purple scarf had fallen on the floor. I hung it on a hook feeling as though someone might barge in any moment and say, Hey, what are you doing here?

  I shuddered. You are here for the moon rock, I reminded myself. I needed to stay focused. I took two steps up to a door. Someone had painted across it in curly letters: You are home.

  A herd of scratching claws scurried above me. I sucked in my breath. Squirrels, I thought, or mice. When the noise stopped, I opened the door, and stepped into a large family room. The door shut hard behind me. I jumped. My legs felt weak. Find the moon rock and get out, I thought.