The Shade of the Moon (18 page)

“For the moment, anyway,” her father said. “I called the depot. They’ll send a private
car for us this afternoon. I said I preferred to stay, but they’re insisting I go
back with you.”

“They’re letting the fires burn themselves out,” Mom said. “But this section is safe,
and there are guards on the streets. So it’s time for me to go home.”

“Not alone,” Jon said. “I’ll take you there.”

“You and a guard,” Dr. Goldman said. “He’ll escort you there and back, Jon, and you’ll
wait with us for the car.”

Jon nodded. He excused himself and went to the bathroom. When he returned to the office,
Mom was ready to leave.

Dr. Goldman walked out of the office with them, telling one of the guards what to
do. There was still smoke in the distance, but Jon only heard one gunshot, and that
seemed far away.

They walked in silence back to Mom’s apartment. The three murdered women were still
lying in front of the building.

“I heard they’ll start moving the corpses tomorrow,” the guard said. “Meantime, stay
in your apartment, ma’am. A siren will ring three times, then stop, then three times
again to let the grubs know they can go out again. Don’t leave until then or you might
get shot.”

“Thank you,” Mom said. “I’ll stay in my apartment until I hear the sirens.”

“I’m going upstairs with my mother,” Jon said. “I’ll be a few minutes. Wait for me
here, all right?”

“Yes sir,” the guard said.

Jon and his mother walked the flight of stairs to her apartment. “Wait here,” he said,
“while I check things out.”

“Don’t be silly,” she replied, promptly walking ahead of him. “You must be famished.
I know I am. I’ll get us something to eat.”

“I’m okay,” Jon said. “I’ll eat when I get back to Sexton.”

“You’ll eat right now,” Mom said. They walked to the kitchen and saw it had been ransacked.
Mom checked the cupboards, but all her food had been stolen. They looked around the
apartment, but whoever had stolen the food was gone.

“Are you going to be okay?” Jon asked.

“I’ll be fine,” she said. “Come here.”

They walked to Miranda and Alex’s room, and Mom opened the closet door. “Our hidden
stash,” she said, pulling cans of food out of an emptied pillow on the closet shelf.
“Alex’s paranoia can come in handy.”

Jon checked the supplies. “That should last you for a few days,” he said. “Besides,
they’ll start getting food to you in a day or two.”

“I’m not so sure,” Mom replied. “They’ll feed the workers in Sexton. But I don’t think
they’ll send food to White Birch. They’re not putting the fires out. They closed the
clinic when it’s most needed. I don’t think they’re going to send us any supplies
until they think we’ve suffered enough.”

“I’ll bring you food,” Jon said.

“Jon, thank you,” Mom said. “We’re all right for the time being. Sit down. I want
to talk.”

They sat on the bed. Mom reached out and touched Jon’s hand. “We may never see each
other again,” she said.

“Mom!” Jon said. “Don’t say that.”

“I have to,” she replied. “Things are bad, Jon. Not the way they were before. Everything
else—the earthquakes, the diseases, all of it—no one’s been at fault. We’ve suffered
together. But what’s happening, what’s going to happen, is man-made. Sexton’s a bully,
Jon. It’s a frightened bully. You know me. I’m the one who always believes if we can
just hold out, things will get better. I don’t believe that anymore. Not after yesterday.
The enclave will let us die. They’ll bring in new laborers and work them to death
and then bring another batch in.”

Jon turned away.

Mom grabbed his arm and forced him to look at her. “I love you,” she said. “And I
want you to know the decision to let you live with Lisa was one of the hardest I’ve
ever made in my life. Harder than divorcing your father. Harder than letting Matt
and Syl move away. Every day I’ve asked myself if I did the right thing, and I still
don’t know. You’re healthier than you would have been here, and you’re better educated,
and you have a real chance at a future. But I know it hurt you to live away from your
family. I know you feel like I haven’t been there for you.”

“I’ve wanted things to be different,” he said. “Like they were before, back home.”

“We’ll never have that again,” Mom said. “It’s gone, not just for us, for everybody.
We’re the lucky ones, Jon. Think of it. You have your brother and your sister. Gabe,
too, and Lisa. Lisa’s been wonderful, and I want you to tell her how grateful, how
eternally grateful I am to her. Love them, Jon, because they’re your family and they’re
good, loving people. Your father loved you so much, and I love you so much. Never
forget that.”

“I know,” Jon said. “I love you, Mom. And I need you. Promise me you’ll be all right.”

“All I can promise is that I’ll try,” Mom said. “Promise me you’ll try, also, Jonny.”

“I promise,” Jon said.

Mom kissed him and then got up. “The guard’s waiting for you,” she said. “Do whatever
Dr. Goldman and Lisa tell you. Please see Miranda, and let her know I’m all right.
I don’t want her to worry about me.”

Jon stood and embraced his mother. “We’ll make it through this,” he said. “I promise.”

“Go,” Mom said. “And remember how much I love you.”

Jon left Mom in the bedroom. He walked out of the apartment, down the stairs, past
the dead bodies. The guard followed him as he walked.

In a couple of hours he’d be home. Back to the house in Sexton where there were domestics
to look after him and always enough to eat. Back to the life everyone had sacrificed
for so that he might have a home and food and a real chance at a future.

I’ll be good, he promised them all, he promised himself. I’ll make you proud.

Monday, July 6

Jon found Carrie in the kitchen when he went downstairs for breakfast.

“How do you like your eggs?” she asked. “Scrambled?”

“Yeah,” Jon said. “Where’s Val?”

“I don’t know,” Carrie said. She broke two eggs into a bowl, poured some goat’s milk
in, and began beating them.

“I thought you and Val took the bus together Mondays?” Jon said.

“Look,” Carrie said, turning to face him. “I walk to Val’s house Monday mornings and
we take the bus together. Only this morning I couldn’t. The guards herded us like
cattle to the terminal. They frisked us before we got onto the buses, and I was stopped
four times walking from the terminal to here. That’s all I know.”

“Did you tell Lisa you don’t know where Val is?” Jon asked.

Carrie poured the eggs in the pan. “Yes, I told her. She said I should assume Val
wouldn’t be coming, and for the time being I should do her work as well as mine.”

Lisa had been in a terrible mood when Jon had gotten home the day before. She’d yelled
at Jon because he hadn’t let her know he was all right. Then she said work was going
to be a nightmare because, from what she was hearing, there were hundreds, possibly
thousands dead in White Birch, and that meant any number of houses in Sexton would
be without one or more of their domestics, and they’d be calling her to demand she
replace the ones who were gone.

Jon began to eat. If Val was missing, then Carrie was their only domestic, at least
until Miranda had her baby. And if Lisa had to send Carrie to some other claver’s
home, then Miranda would be their only one, cleaning the house, doing the cooking,
looking after Gabe and her own baby.

There’d be no avoiding her then. She’d sleep in the nursery and clean Jon’s room and
make his meals and be some bizarre combination of his domestic and his sister.

It was one thing for Mom to tell him to love Miranda. It was another to want her in
his home, reminding him, without saying a word, that he had all the advantages she
didn’t, her baby didn’t.

And he’d never be able to forget Julie with her killer in his home.

He walked over to Sarah’s house, trying not to think about any of that. But Sarah’s
mood didn’t make things better.

“They won’t let us open the clinic,” she said. “No one from Sexton is allowed into
White Birch.”

“They’ve let the grubs come here,” Jon said. “Carrie’s here but not Val.”

“Two of our domestics are missing,” Sarah said.

“Missing isn’t dead,” Jon said.

“Yes it is,” Sarah said. “Oh, I don’t know. Maybe not. I don’t know anything about
them. They’ve been working for us, living with us for months, and I don’t know anything
about them.”

“They don’t want you to know,” Jon said. “They hate us. We give them just enough food
to live, and we make them do whatever we need, and they have no choice but to put
up with it. The only thing left to them is a little bit of privacy.”

Sarah stared at him. “You’ve changed,” she said.

“Trust me,” Jon said. “I liked it the way it was. I liked having Val do all the housework
and Carrie taking care of Gabe so I didn’t have to. I liked feeling it was okay for
me to eat real food and have clean clothes and clean air to breathe. Okay? That’s
how it was when I was a kid. Without the grubs, but all the rest of it: food and clothes
and air. Then for two years I lived in hell. Everyone did, I know that. But I got
offered a way out and I took it, and got food and clothes and clean air. I’m not going
to apologize for liking it. You like it. We all like it.”

“Do you think someday everyone will have that?” Sarah asked. “Will there ever be enough
for all of us?”

“I don’t know,” Jon replied. “Maybe someday if we figure out how to share. Mom thinks
things are going to get worse around here, though.”

“Daddy won’t say it,” Sarah said. “But I can tell that’s what he thinks.”

“They’re afraid for us,” Jon said. “They have been for four years now. They don’t
know how not to be afraid.”

“I’m afraid, too, Jon,” Sarah said.

Jon held her tight. “We’ll make it,” he said. “I promise you.”

But when they got to school, Jon began to doubt he could keep that promise, any promise.
He’d never seen the school so heavily guarded. And none of the students were laughing,
or even talking.

They were told to go directly to the auditorium. Luke saw Jon and Sarah and walked
in with them.

The middle school students were there along with the high schoolers, seated in their
own section. Jon looked around. Tyler wasn’t there, and neither was Zachary.

The students stood and sang “The Star-Spangled Banner.” Then Mr. Morrow, principal
of all the Sexton students from kindergarten through high school, told them to continue
standing for a moment of silence in memory of all who had died on Saturday.

“These are difficult and frightening times,” Mr. Morrow said after everyone was seated.
“The Sexton school system has suffered great loss. Miss Wilkins, the second grade
teacher, is missing and presumed dead. Mr. Donnelly, who teaches English in middle
school, is known dead. He died saving the lives of our students. His courage will
long be remembered.”

Jon took Sarah’s hand and held on to it.

“Four students died on Saturday,” Mr. Morrow continued. “Jennifer Simms, a fourth
grader, was trampled to death at the stadium. Seventh grader Michael Davies was separated
from his parents. He was found shot to death on the playing field.”

The guards killed him, Jon thought, but he knew no one would ever admit that.

“Tyler Hughes and Zachary Wright, two of our most popular students, were murdered,”
Mr. Morrow said. “It seems a mob grabbed Tyler, and when Zachary ran to get help,
another mob found and killed him.” He paused. “I’ve been told there will be funerals
for all who died, but not until the end of the week. Their bodies have been recovered
and are in Sexton, but with so many deaths, it will take time before all the arrangements
can be made.”

“They need grubs to dig the graves,” Luke whispered.

Jon thought of all the bodies he’d seen in White Birch, grubs who’d be tossed in body
pits and cremated without anyone to witness and grieve. Then he thought of Tyler and
what his parents must have felt when they saw what had been done to their son.

“I want to take a moment to praise the many students who stood their ground against
the mob and helped women and children make their way safely back to Sexton,” Mr. Morrow
said. “Five of the Sexton soccer team were students here. Now there are three. Would
those three fine young men please stand? They represent what’s best in Sexton.”

Jon had no desire to stand, and he could see how uncomfortable Luke was. But Ryan,
in the row ahead of them, stood, and reluctantly Jon and Luke rose as well.

It was a nightmare hearing the students and faculty cheering for them. Jon sat as
soon as he possibly could, and Luke joined him. A moment later Ryan also sat.

“I didn’t do anything,” Luke whispered. “I got on a bus right away. Ryan did, too.
We were too scared to stay.”

“It doesn’t matter,” Jon said. “They need heroes. We’re it.”

“After this assembly, guards will escort you to your buses,” Mr. Morrow said. “School
will be closed until next Monday so that you can attend the funerals of your friends
and fellow students.”

Jon spotted Alex on one of the buses. It made him feel better. But when he got home,
he found Carrie on her hands and knees scrubbing the kitchen floor while Gabe jumped
up and down, screaming for attention.

“What’s going on?” Jon asked.

“Val’s not here,” Carrie said. “Someone has to do the work.”

Gabe turned his attention to Jon. “Play with me!” he screamed. “I hate Carrie! She
won’t play with me!”

“Stop it,” Jon said sharply. “Carrie, your job is to take care of Gabe.”

“You think I don’t know that?” she said. “I’m doing what Mrs. Evans told me to do.
I don’t have four hands.”

“I’m sorry,” Jon said. “It came out wrong. You take care of Gabe. I’ll do the scrubbing.”

Carrie stared at him. Gabe continued to scream.

“I’m getting the best of it,” Jon said. “Give me the scrub brush.”