The Shade of the Moon (20 page)

He broke into one of the classrooms and grabbed the teacher. “I’m her son!” he screamed.
“Laura Evans’s son!”

The kids in the class didn’t look much older than Gabe. They began crying. Their teacher
broke away from Jon.

“I’m sorry,” she said. “So sorry. There was nothing we could do.”

“What happened?” he cried. “Why?”

The teacher shook her head. “Not here,” she said. “Go to Mrs. Brunswick’s office,
by the front door. She can tell you.”

He left the classroom and ran to the office. He’d passed it when he came in, but he
hadn’t realized there was someone in there.

She sat quietly behind a battered desk.

“Mrs. Brunswick?”

The woman nodded.

Jon took a deep breath. “I’m Jon Evans,” he said. “What happened to my mother?”

“I’m sorry,” she said. “Please, sit down.”

“Mom didn’t come home last night,” Jon said. “I came here looking for her. Tell me
what happened.” He was using his claver tone, he realized, and for a moment Mrs. Brunswick
reacted like a grub.

But then she exhaled, and Jon saw she wasn’t a grub, any more than his mother had
been.

“I’m sorry,” he said. “I thought I’d find Mom here, teaching. Please. I have to know.”

Mrs. Brunswick nodded. “Your mother was in her classroom,” she said. “A half dozen
guards came in. They told me they’d come for the high school students. There’s a labor
shortage, because of the riots. All the high school students had to start work immediately,
the boys in the factories, the girls as domestics.”

Jon thought about Lisa trying to find domestics for all the claver homes. He knew
she wouldn’t have asked for the high school students, but he also knew she wouldn’t
have argued against it. A month ago he wouldn’t have, either.

“The guards went into your mother’s classroom, and Laura, well, she put up a fight,”
Mrs. Brunswick continued. “She stood up to them.”

“And they shot her,” Jon said.

Mrs. Brunswick shook her head. “I wish they had,” she said. “I wish it had been that
quick, that clean. Two of them grabbed her, dragged her outside. The others went to
the classrooms, told everyone they had to go out. We knew they’d kill the children
if we didn’t. We had no choice but to do what they said.”

“I know,” Jon said. “I know this isn’t your fault.”

“They used one of their belts for a noose,” Mrs. Brunswick said, her voice quivering.
“They told Laura to say her prayers. She said . . . she said she’d see them in hell.
They made it tighter, but she still wouldn’t beg like they wanted her to. Then they
used her for target practice.”

She was sobbing by then, but Jon didn’t cry. There was no point. Dead was dead. His
father had died of hunger and disease. Was that better than being hanged and shot?

“They said they’d come back for the belt,” Mrs. Brunswick added. “They said they’d
kill our children if she wasn’t still there when they came back for the belt.”

“The students,” Jon said. “The high school students?” The ones Mom died for, he thought.

“They took them,” Mrs. Brunswick said. “I don’t think they hurt them. Sexton needs
the workers.”

Jon stood. “I have to go,” he said. “There are people expecting me.”

Mrs. Brunswick rose. “I’m so sorry,” she said. “I only met your mother after the high
school burned down, but I could see what a wonderful woman she was. She was devoted
to her students.”

Jon nodded.

“To her family, also,” Mrs. Brunswick said. “She was . . . It was an honor to know
her.”

“Yes,” Jon said. “Well, I have to go.”

“There’s a back door,” Mrs. Brunswick said. “Down this hallway. If you leave through
that door, you won’t have to . . . It might be easier for you.”

“Thank you,” Jon said, but when he left the office, he went out the front door. They
wanted people to see Mom. They wanted people to understand what they were capable
of doing, what they enjoyed doing.

Jon stood absolutely still by his mother’s body. He wanted to take her home, back
to Pennsylvania, back to life as it had been. He wanted to be twelve again, to hear
Mom cheering him on as he played shortstop for his Little League team. He wanted Mom
to see the sun again, to see the grandchild she’d been so eagerly awaiting. He wanted
to kill.

A guard walked up to him. “You have business here?” he asked.

“I’m here to run errands for Dr. Goldman,” Jon replied. “I have a note.” He pulled
it out of his pocket and handed it to the guard.

“I’ll go with you,” the guard said. “You’re not supposed to be here, you know. Some
of my pals are a little trigger happy.”

“Thank you,” Jon said. “I appreciate it.” He began walking away from his mother, trying
not to think that this was the last time he would see her.

“Grubs,” the guard said, shaking his head in disgust. “Animals. You should have seen
the stadium on Saturday.”

“Bad?” Jon asked.

“The game was okay,” the guard replied. “Soccer’s not my game, though. I played baseball.
Third base. Made it to Double A for the Red Sox.”

“I was a shortstop,” Jon said. “Little League. Phillies fan.”

“Good team,” the guard said. “Wouldn’t have minded being traded to them.”

“Double A’s good,” Jon said. “Would you have made it to the big leagues?”

The guard nodded. “I was drafted out of high school. I was only twenty when everything
happened. Killed that dream, let me tell you.”

“Mine, too,” Jon said. And my father’s. And my mother’s.

The guard laughed. “We all started somewhere,” he said. “I made it to Williamsport
one year. Little League World Series. We were knocked out second round, but it was
great. One of the best times of my life. I felt like a star.”

“I would have liked that,” Jon said.

“I feel bad for you kids sometimes,” the guard said. “Well, you have it all right,
being a claver. But the ones here? Once things turned bad, well, they turned bad right
along with it. You should see what they did to each other Saturday.” He paused. “I
killed a bunch of them Saturday night. I’d never killed anyone before then. I could
have a few times, but I didn’t. I was a ballplayer, you know? I wasn’t aiming to kill
people. But Saturday there was no choice. And after the first few, it didn’t feel
so bad anymore. That woman? The one you were looking at? She had to be shut up. We
had to make an example of her. And the guard in charge, he gets ideas. Everything
has to be bigger. He’s my boss and I guess he knows what he’s doing. I didn’t second-guess
my manager or the hitting coach. I did what they told me. Same thing, really.”

Jon had been beaned once. The ball had hit him flush on his helmet. The world had
swirled around him as he’d fallen to his knees.

It was the same sensation now. He’d been walking, talking, with one of his mother’s
killers. And he was as helpless now as he had been when the fastball had struck him.
The guard was armed, and Jon wasn’t. Even letting the guard know it was Jon’s mother
he’d killed could be fatal.

Mom wanted him to live. He could hear her telling him to swallow his rage.

“The clinic’s over there,” he said, pointing to the building. “I’ll be okay from here.”

“Pleasure meeting you,” the guard said, shaking Jon’s hand. “Us ballplayers got to
stick together.”

Jon nodded. He walked to the clinic door. The two guards protecting the clinic let
him in.

Sarah rushed into his arms. “Did you find her?” she asked. “Is she all right?”

“No,” Jon said. “I mean yes. I found her. She’s dead.” He felt his knees giving in.

Dr. Goldman grabbed him. “Sit down,” he said. “Sarah, get the potka. Now.”

Jon made it to a chair, and when Sarah brought him the drink, he swallowed it in one
burning gulp. “She was killed yesterday,” he said. “I saw her body.”

Sarah looked at her father, who nodded. She poured another drink.

Jon sipped it this time. “I have to tell people,” he said. “Alex will want to know.
Miranda. Matt.” He started to laugh. “I don’t even know how to tell Matt. He delivers
mail but he doesn’t get any.”

“Get a blanket, Sarah,” Dr. Goldman said.

Sarah got one and wrapped it around Jon. The warmth felt good, but he couldn’t stop
shaking.

“You’re in shock,” Dr. Goldman said. “You wouldn’t be human if you weren’t. Sarah,
get another blanket. Jon, I’m going to give you a shot.”

“A shot,” Jon said. “That’s what Mom got.” His laughter grew even more out of control.

“Get up, Jon,” Dr. Goldman said. “Keep the blanket wrapped around you. You’re going
on the examining table. I’m giving you a sedative.”

Jon did as Dr. Goldman told him. That’s what you were supposed to do. You didn’t second-guess.
It was wrong to second-guess.

Dr. Goldman rolled up Jon’s sleeve. “This will put you out for a couple of hours,”
he said. “Your problems won’t go away, but you’ll be able to handle them better.”
He injected Jon’s arm.

“Whatever you say,” Jon mumbled. “I don’t second-guess.”

In a moment he was asleep. Now it was Mom crying, “No. Jon. No.”

Friday, July 10

“You’re going to have to tell Miranda,” Lisa said, serving Jon breakfast so they could
talk privately. “This morning. The sooner you get it done, the better you’ll feel.”

“Do you think that’s a good idea?” Jon asked. He thought it was a very bad idea, but
more for himself than for Miranda.

“Eat something, Jon,” Lisa said. “I know you don’t feel like it, but you’ll need your
strength. And no, I don’t think it’s a good idea, but it has to be done. Miranda’s
going to want her mother. I know how much I wanted mine when Gabe was born.” She paused.
“I can’t imagine a world without Laura,” she said. “I’ll never forget how kind she
was. It can’t have been easy, being so good to your ex’s wife. She was an amazing
woman. Jon, just a bite, all right?”

Jon took a bite. He missed Val’s eggs. Val was probably dead. He wondered if her family
would ever find out.

“Miranda would never forgive us if we kept it from her,” Lisa said. “Go to the hospital
and tell her.”

“Can I bring Sarah?” Jon asked. She’d told Jon she wouldn’t go to the clinic in case
he needed her.

“No,” Lisa said. “Miranda’s met Sarah what, two times? Three? Her baby’s due any minute
and she’s about to learn her mother died. She doesn’t need to have a stranger in the
room. When you come back, I want you to look after Gabe while Carrie does the housecleaning.
Sarah can keep you company then. Eat some more, Jon. You know how lucky you are to
have a breakfast like this?”

“Very,” Jon muttered.

“Oh, Jon,” Lisa said. “I know I’m not your mother. I’ll never replace Laura. But you’re
going to eat breakfast and you’re going to see Miranda and you’re going to take care
of Gabe.”

“Tyler’s funeral is this afternoon,” Jon said.

“You’re not going,” Lisa said. “You don’t need it, and they don’t need you. I need
you. Gabe needs you. Miranda needs you.”

“How did Alex take it?” Jon asked. Alex had called the night before, but Lisa had
spoken to him.

“Not much better than you,” Lisa replied. “You know Alex. He feels everything is his
fault, he should have been able to protect her.” She shook her head. “He couldn’t
protect his sisters, either. I just hope he’ll find the strength to protect Miranda
and the baby. Now one more bite and out you go. Give Miranda my love. Tell her I’ll
do whatever I can and that we’re waiting with all our hearts for her and the baby
to move here.”

Jon knew he wouldn’t say any such thing. But he finished his eggs, gave Lisa a kiss
good-bye, and left for the bus that would take him to the hospital.

Miranda seemed very happy to see him. “I thought after our fight you wouldn’t come,”
she said. “The baby’s due any day now.” She laughed. “I’ve got to be the only girl
looking forward to labor. But I want to see Alex so much. And Mom. I want to see her
holding the baby. Her first grandchild, Jon. Do you know how much that’s going to
mean to her?”

“Mom’s dead,” Jon said. “She died.”

“What?” Miranda said. “What do you mean? How can she be dead? You just saw her. You
told me you saw her, Jon. You said she was fine. What are you talking about?”

The image of Mom’s dead body washed over him. What she’d looked like, how the guard
had spoken so easily about killing her. Miranda would never know. Matt wouldn’t, either.
That memory was his alone.

“Jon!” Miranda cried. “Tell me!”

“I’m sorry,” Jon said. “It came out wrong.”

“You mean she isn’t dead?” Miranda asked. “It’s someone else? Is she sick? What, Jon?
Tell me.”

“Mom was killed,” Jon said. “Day before yesterday. Alex called that night after work
because he was worried about her; she wasn’t home. So I went to White Birch yesterday,
to her school. The principal told me what happened. Guards went into Mom’s classroom.
Someone decided the grubber kids should go to work in Sexton. A lot of grubs died
over the weekend. Lisa’s been going crazy trying to get replacements.”