Monday, July 27

 

“This should do,” Alex said a couple of hours later. He pulled the car over to the side of a country road.

“Should we be stopping so soon?” Miranda asked. The baby was sleeping contentedly in her arms.

“This’ll only take a minute,” Alex said. “See that brook? We’ll use the water to baptize the baby.”

“They baptized her in the hospital,” Jon said.

“That’s what they said,” Alex replied. “They also said the baby was deformed and dead. I’m not taking any chances. Come on everyone. Let’s do this.”

“Gabe’s still sleeping,” Sarah said. “I’ll stay in the car with him.”

“Gabe will be fine,” Miranda said. “Sarah, you have to join us. You’re Liana’s godmother.”

“Oh no, I can’t be,” Sarah said. “I’m Jewish. I can’t be your baby’s godmother.”

Miranda laughed. “I wouldn’t be holding my baby if it wasn’t for you,” she said. “You and Jon. You’re the godparents, like it or not. Right, Alex?”

“Right,” Alex said. “Everybody out. Except Gabe.”

They left the car and, holding on to each other’s hand, walked down the slope to the brook.

“Are the godparents here?” Alex asked.

Jon squeezed Sarah’s hand. “We are,” he said.

“Alex, do you know what you’re doing?” Miranda asked.

Alex grinned. “I’m winging it,” he said. “But I don’t think God will mind.” He bent over, wet his fingers with the water from the stream then made the sign of the cross on the baby’s forehead. “I baptize thee . . .”

“Liana Hope,” Miranda said. “Liana Hope Morales.”

“Oh, I like that,” Sarah said. “Oops. I’m sorry.”

“I like it, too,” Alex said. “I baptize thee Liana Hope Morales in the name of the Father and the Son and the Holy Spirit. Amen.”

“Amen,” they all said.

“Can I hold her?” Jon asked. “Just for a moment?”

“Of course you can,” Miranda said. “You’re her uncle. Make sure to support her head. Yes, that’s right.”

Jon stared at his niece. Dawn was breaking, and hazy sunlight made it possible for him to see what she looked like. Her hair was dark like Alex’s, but her eyes were Miranda’s. “Liana Hope,” he said. He held his pinkie out, and the baby grabbed it. “Look at that,” he said. “That’s amazing.”

“I think all babies do that,” Sarah said. “But Liana Hope is the most beautiful one ever.”

Jon kissed his niece on her forehead and then handed her back to Miranda. “The most beautiful one ever,” he said.

“We’ve got to get going,” Alex said. “We can’t take any more chances.”

Jon nodded. “You go on,” he said. “I’m going back to Sexton.”

“Jon, what are you talking about?” Miranda asked.

“I can’t let Lisa face this alone,” Jon said. “You keep going. I won’t say anything about where you are. You can trust me.”

“It’s not a question of trust,” Alex said. “Jon, do you have any idea of what you’re risking?”

“You might never see us again,” Miranda said.

“I know,” he said. “But I can’t ask Lisa to take the blame for something I did.”

“I did it, too,” Sarah said. “I’ll go back with you.”

“Sarah, go to Virginia,” Jon said. “I want you to be safe, remember?”

“Matt will know where we are,” Miranda said. “Take care of Lisa, Jon. And thank her for everything she did.”

“You’ll have to walk back to the highway,” Alex said. “You should be able to hitch a ride with a trucker. Tell them you were going to visit family, but the car broke down, and your driver vanished, so you need a lift back. Give us until tomorrow. Lie low today. All right?”

“All right,” Jon said.

“Will you see my father?” Sarah asked.

“I’d better not,” Jon said. “We don’t know how this is going to play out. Maybe no one will care, and Lisa and I will get away, no problem. But if there is trouble, I’ve got to do what I can to protect her.”

Alex nodded. “Take care, Jon. Do what you can for Lisa.”

“I love you,” Jon said, hoping that each of them, even the sleeping children, knew he meant it. “I’ll find my way back to you, somehow. I promise.”

Sarah embraced him, but she broke away and walked with Alex and Miranda to the car. Jon stood by the stream and watched as they drove off. He thought he heard Sarah crying, but Alex pulled away so rapidly, he couldn’t be sure.

It didn’t matter. They were all about to start new lives, better lives. Jon was starting his own new life. Just not a better one.

 

Tuesday, July 28

 

He’d gotten a lift with a trucker who was hauling a couple dozen grubs to work in the greenhouses. From the sounds in the back, the grubs weren’t too happy about it, but the trucker said he was earning a lot of overtime hauling grubs from all over to replace the ones who’d died during the riots.

Jon thought about the truck Alex had wanted so badly, but he couldn’t imagine him hauling grubs. Carlos would have, though, and Alex would have taken his share of the money. He wouldn’t have told Miranda where the money came from. Bad times made for big secrets.

The trucker let Jon off at the greenhouses. From there Jon had to walk to the nearest claver bus stop, about four miles. It was dark by the time he got home, but he didn’t mind. He felt safe being in Sexton. It wasn’t safe, but for a little while at least Jon was a claver, and clavers were safe.

Still, he felt uneasy when he saw the house was dark. He called for Lisa, then Ruby, but there was no answer.

Most likely Lisa was at work, he told himself. Ruby might have taken off when she saw Gabe was missing. Or Lisa might have sent her back to White Birch or to some clavers who needed another grub. Jon couldn’t picture Lisa scrubbing floors, but maybe without Gabe around, Lisa didn’t care if the floors were clean.

It was also possible the police had tracked Lisa down and she and Ruby were being held. Even if Lisa claimed full responsibility, the cops might keep Ruby. If they let Ruby go, there’d be no reason for her to come back. She’d be sent to a different family, to crawl into a different man’s bed.

Jon sat in the living room, thinking about his options. He couldn’t go to the police, not unless he knew Lisa was being held. If she was, he could take full blame, and the police might release her. But if the police hadn’t made the connection yet between Lisa and the baby, it would be a disaster for Jon to show up.

He could call her office, to see if Lisa was there, but that would only be to make himself feel better. If she wasn’t there, it could make things worse. Maybe Lisa had changed her mind and left Sexton. She could have called into work that morning, said she was sick and not coming in, and grabbed a ride out of town with a trucker, just as Jon had grabbed a ride in with one. For all he knew, Lisa could be at Matt’s already. She could have brought Ruby with her.

Maybe Lisa had figured out a way to let the authorities know she was to blame and no one else was. Or maybe she didn’t care anymore if someone else was held responsible just as long as she could be with Gabe.

Or maybe she was working late and would come home any minute, and she and Jon could discuss what to do next.

Jon went into the kitchen and took some chicken out of the refrigerator, but after a bite or two he put it back. He was tired, dirty, and hungry, but more than anything, he was scared. How many years had it been since he was alone in a house? Even back in Pennsylvania it seemed like there had always been someone around. And back in Pennsylvania there had been no reason to feel this engulfing terror.

He walked upstairs. He couldn’t be sure what tomorrow would bring, but he’d be better off getting a good night’s sleep. It could well be the last one he’d have in this house, in any house.

Lisa’s bedroom door was closed. Jon opened it and turned on a light. She was sitting in her desk chair, her head down on the desk. Almost immediately Jon noticed the gun lying on the floor by her side.

Jon had been with his father when he died. He had seen his mother’s corpse hanging from a tree. Death had been as much of a part of his life as hunger and fear.

He walked to Lisa. She’d shot herself in her heart. There was no way of knowing if the shot had killed her or if she’d died a slower death, her blood flowing out of her. It didn’t matter, really. Dead was dead.

She’d left a note.

 

I take full responsibility for the kidnapping of the Stockton baby.

The only other people involved were the baby’s biological parents.

I knew the baby’s father for a number of years and arranged for his wife to be my domestic. When I realized their baby had been taken from them without their consent, I came up with a plan to return the baby to them. I told them what to say to the Stocktons, and I arranged for them to have a car to leave Sexton with their baby.

No one else knew of the plan.

Lisa Evans

 

Jon put the note back on the desk and left the room. He’d decide what to do about Lisa some other time. He had to make sure Ruby was gone. He didn’t think Lisa would’ve killed her, but he needed to be certain. There was a chance Ruby was hiding in the house somewhere.

Besides, looking for Ruby distracted him. And he needed the distraction.

He went through the entire house, opening closets and cupboards and small spaces Ruby couldn’t possibly have crawled into. He checked the garage, went back and searched the house all over again. Then he gritted his teeth and returned to Lisa’s bedroom. Ruby wasn’t under the bed or in the closet or anywhere else. She’d probably heard the shot, saw Lisa’s body, and run.

But wherever she ran to, it wasn’t to the authorities. Lisa had been undisturbed since her death Tuesday morning. Maybe even Monday. There were ways to test how long a person had been dead, but he was no expert. Dead was dead.

He went to his bedroom and sat on the bed. He could leave, he thought, walk to the greenhouses in the morning and grab a lift with a trucker. He could make his way to Matt’s, slowly, cautiously. Someone would have to tell Gabe his mother was dead. Jon had told Miranda about Mom, after all. By now he was a pro.

The problem was Ruby. If Jon could be sure she’d truly gotten out, then he could leave, too. But how could Ruby have managed that? Even if she’d gone back to White Birch, to her family, she’d be picked up by a guard and punished for running away. And if she were still in Sexton, the same thing would happen.

She couldn’t have been caught yet because she would have told the police about Lisa. But she would be caught. It was inevitable. And once she was, the police might decide she was responsible for everything. Notes could be destroyed. Suicides could be called murders. Why would a claver have helped a pair of no-good grubs? Ruby must have been in on it, helped grab the baby, then killed Lisa and run away.

She was Jon’s responsibility. In some ways, she was Jon’s friend.

He would have to tell someone about Lisa. He would have to stick around, hoping no one suspected him, until Ruby was found. And once she was, he’d have to protect her. If he survived all that, and he wasn’t sure he would, he could leave Sexton.

But he couldn’t protect Ruby unless he protected himself first.

He walked back to Lisa’s room and stared at her. She was trying to protect everybody. If Ruby had stayed in the house and called the authorities, she might have been fine. If he hadn’t come home, he’d be fine. Everybody would be fine. But he’d come home and Ruby had run, and decisions had to be made.

He went downstairs and found the address book. It was nine thirty. Too late to call people, but he didn’t have a choice.

The first call Jon made was to Dr. Goldman. It was nice to pretend he could be kept out of things, but that option no longer existed.

“I apologize for calling so late,” Jon said, “but there’s something I have to tell you.”

“Is it Sarah?” Dr. Goldman asked. “Have you heard something from Alex? Is Sarah all right?”

“She’s fine,” Jon said. “It’s Lisa. She killed herself.”

“Are you sure?” Dr. Goldman asked.

“Yes sir,” Jon said. “She shot herself. I came home and found her.”

“Oh, Jon,” Dr. Goldman said. “I’m so sorry. Does Gabe know?”

“He’s not here,” Jon said. “He’s with Miranda.” He paused, trying to decide what he had to tell Sarah’s father, what he could avoid telling him.

“Dr. Goldman, Sarah’s fine,” he began. “But she’s with Alex and Miranda and Gabe and the baby. Miranda’s baby was alive, and we found her and got her back to them.”

“Sarah did that?” Dr. Goldman asked.

“We all did,” Jon said. “Lisa, too. Lisa left a note saying she was completely responsible, her and Alex and Miranda. She says she knew Alex, but she didn’t say anything about Miranda being family.”

“You’re going to have to call the authorities,” Dr. Goldman said. “I would do it for you, but I think it would be better if you make the call.”

“Yes sir,” Jon said. “I’ll make that call right now.”

“I’ll be there in fifteen minutes,” Dr. Goldman said.

“No,” Jon said. “Thank you, but I’m better off if you stay away. Sarah’s better off, too. If I need you, I’ll call.”

“I don’t like leaving you alone,” Dr. Goldman said.

“I don’t like being alone,” Jon replied. “But it’s better if I am. I’ll tell them I called you. Don’t lie about that. Just about Miranda.”

“I’m here if you need me,” Dr. Goldman said. “And, Jon? Your mother would have been proud of your helping Alex and Miranda. Very proud. Don’t ever forget that.”

“I won’t,” Jon said. “Thank you.”

Alex had told him he had special obligations. Mom would expect him to protect the people who hadn’t been given the same chances he had. Miranda, Alex, Ruby.

Well, he was a claver and a soccer star, and that used to count for something. Jon made his next phone call.

“I’d like to speak to Mr. Hughes,” he told the domestic who answered the phone. “This is Jon Evans. I was a friend of Tyler’s.”

Jon waited nervously until Mr. Hughes came to the phone.

“Yes, Jon,” he said. “What is it?”

“I’m sorry to call so late, sir,” Jon said. “And I’m sorry I never had a chance to tell you how bad I felt about Tyler.”

“You weren’t at his funeral,” Mr. Hughes said. “A lot of people noticed that.”

“My mother died,” Jon said. “In the riots. I’m really sorry, Mr. Hughes, but I couldn’t handle it. Tyler, I mean. Tyler’s funeral.”

“I didn’t know,” Mr. Hughes said. “I’m sorry, Jon. These are terrible times.”

“Yes sir,” Jon said. “Mr. Hughes, my stepmother killed herself. I’m here, at our home, and I just found her. I called Sarah’s father, Dr. Goldman, and he told me to call the authorities. I’m sorry, sir. I thought you’d know who to call.”

“Are you sure it’s suicide?” Mr. Hughes asked. “Where are your grubs?”

“We only have one,” Jon said. “I don’t know where she is. But Lisa, my stepmother, left a note. It’s something about this other grub we had. I don’t know what it means.”

“Give me your address,” Mr. Hughes said. “I’ll call the police and tell them to come. I’ll come, too. You were one of Tyler’s closest friends, Jon. If you’re in trouble, he’d want me to help.”

“Thank you, sir,” Jon said. “That means a lot.”

“Keep calm,” Mr. Hughes said. “This is a terrible tragedy, but you’re a strong young man, and I know you’ll get through it.”

Jon thanked him again and hung up. He didn’t feel like a strong young man. He felt like a weakling, a liar. But then again, he’d been a weakling and a liar for years now. He knew how to be a weakling and a liar, and he knew how to survive.

For the moment that would have to be enough.

 

Thursday, July 30

 

He told the same story to everyone—Mr. Hughes, the police, Luke, Luke’s father, Ryan, Reverend Minter, the people Lisa worked with, the people at her funeral. Each time he told it, he knew he was lying, but with each time it sounded more and more like the truth, even to him. He grew comfortable with the lies, more comfortable than he’d ever felt lying about Julie.

He told them he’d come home from the soccer match too keyed up to stay at home. He wanted to celebrate, and the best place to do that was White Birch. He caught the last grub bus in Sunday night, and after that, he admitted with chagrin, he wasn’t too sure what had happened except that it involved a lot of potka and any grubber girl he could find.

Mr. Hughes, the police, Luke, Luke’s father, Ryan, Reverend Minter, the people Lisa worked with, and even the people at Lisa’s funeral laughed at that. Getting drunk and enjoying yourself with grubber girls was what claver boys were supposed to do in White Birch. No one was expected to remember all the details.

School was out until September. So Jon stayed in White Birch an extra night, an extra day. The potka didn’t run out, and neither did the girls.

But by Tuesday evening he’d run out of money for the potka and the girls. Besides, Lisa might be worried. So he took a claver bus to Sexton and made his way home.

As soon as he got there, he passed out. If he had given it any thought, and he wasn’t sure he had, he must have figured that their grub had taken Gabe to the market. Lisa would have been at work.

When he came to, it was night and he found he was alone. He searched for the grub, for Lisa, for Gabe, and found only Lisa, dead in her bedroom. He’d called Dr. Goldman first, because he lived nearby. Then he called Mr. Hughes.

Yes, he’d seen the note, but no, he didn’t know what it meant, or where Gabe was. Maybe the grub had run off with him after she found Lisa’s body. Maybe Lisa had sent him away with the grubs she’d mentioned in her suicide note.

No, he didn’t know the grubs. All he knew about them was that when Lisa had gotten her promotion, she’d been told she could have a private greenhouse and another domestic. Lisa had told him she found the perfect girl, someone who could work in the greenhouse and help with the housework as well. Lisa seemed very interested in the grub, to the point that she had Jon visit her in the hospital a couple of times. So at some point, he must have learned her name was Miranda and she was expecting a baby.

Miranda was dropped off at their home after she’d had the baby, which had died. Deformed, Jon remembered. Deformed and dead. This was after the riots, and Lisa’s greenhouse had been delayed, so they sent Miranda back to White Birch, leaving them with just one domestic, Ruby.

He didn’t remember Lisa seeming upset about anything, except training Ruby. And he didn’t remember Lisa mentioning that she knew Miranda’s husband. Now that he thought about it, he knew Miranda had a husband, because Lisa had mentioned that Miranda would go back to him. He didn’t remember the husband’s last name. Why should he? Who bothered remembering their grubs’ last names?

He’d known Lisa since he was a little boy, and he’d lived with her for three years. It never occurred to him that she would violate the laws, do anything that might put him and especially Gabe at risk. He didn’t know anything about the Stockton baby or who the Stocktons were. He’d been in White Birch getting drunk and having as many girls as he could.

Jon made it through the funeral, listening to everyone saying how brave he was and how difficult they found it to believe that Lisa would do something like that. Not the suicide, he knew, although that was included in their shocked remarks. It was that she had turned against the clavers, helping out grubs based on some long-ago relationship. Everyone knew what animals grubs were. Everyone knew that baby would have been much better off with clavers. Now that baby was lost and so, presumably, was Gabe, kidnapped by the grubs, lost to Sexton forever.

Jon nodded and agreed with them and said how shocked he was, too, how sad at Gabe’s disappearance, and how guilty he felt because he hadn’t been home, hadn’t talked Lisa out of that crazy plot. And all of them, even the police, told Jon it wasn’t his fault, that Lisa had been keeping many secrets from him, that if a claver boy couldn’t go into White Birch and have a good time, what was the point of this whole crazy world?

Jon said he didn’t know, but he would always feel terrible about what had happened, and all of them said that proved what a good boy he was, how brave and honest.

Luke skipped the funeral. “He feels responsible somehow,” Ryan told Jon. “If he hadn’t told you about the grubber baby, none of this would have happened.”

“He shouldn’t blame himself,” Jon said. “I’m the one who told Lisa. If anyone’s to blame, it’s me.”

Ryan shook his head. “It’s not your fault, either,” he said. “Those grubs probably had something on her. It wouldn’t surprise me if they murdered her and forged that note.”

“It doesn’t matter,” Jon said. “Nothing matters. Dead’s dead.”