“No,” he said. “You know why I’m here today, why I’m walking to the bus with you? I took Julie’s pass. Alex had three. He gave two to Lisa, for her and Gabe. Julie was supposed to live with them. Lisa loved Julie like a daughter. Only Julie died, and everyone said I should use the last one. Because I was the youngest, and they were all in the habit of protecting me. I’m here on Julie’s pass. I couldn’t even face her when she was dying, and I get to live here and eat the food and go to school, and Miranda’s going to have Alex’s baby in that hovel.”
“Jon, the apartment isn’t that bad,” Sarah said. “And Miranda and Alex won’t live there forever. You loved Julie?”
Jon nodded.
“Did she love you?”
He nodded.
“Then she’d want you to have her pass,” Sarah said. “She’d want you to have the chance she couldn’t have.”
“That’s what everyone told me,” Jon said. “So I wouldn’t feel bad about living in Sexton while they were stuck in White Birch.”
Sarah stood on her tiptoes and kissed Jon on his cheek. “I’m sorry Julie died,” she said. “I’m sorry for Alex and for you and Lisa. But I’m glad you’re here. You’re my lifeline, Jon. I need you so much.”
You don’t know me, Jon thought. Nobody does.
The only one who had was Julie. And she wasn’t around to tell everyone who Jon really was.
Thursday, June 4
Dr. Carlyle had been a professor of political science at Baumann Christian College, previously located twenty miles east of White Birch. The college, like most of the colleges in America, had ceased to exist four years ago. Dr. Carlyle, like the rest of the teachers, was not a claver, and so he kept his home in White Birch and was now forced to commute to Sexton, like a grub, to teach civics to the claver teenagers.
Jon understood why so much of the school time was devoted to the sciences—botany and biology, chemistry, even physics. He understood the math they were taught was practical, intended for engineering. If you were lucky enough to be a Sexton teenager, it was presumed you’d go to Sexton University and learn all that you could to further their agriculture. New and better greenhouses needed to be built, water supplies to be expanded, and better sources of electrical power to be designed.
English was taught because no matter what field of science they went into after graduation, they’d be expected to be literate. Jon liked the English classes. Mom had been a writer before it all happened, and Matt loved reading sci-fi. There were always books in the house. English classes helped Jon feel connected to the world and the family he no longer lived with.
But civics was a waste of time. For three years now Dr. Carlyle had lectured them on his particular view of history, complaining to them about the repulsive nature of grubs. His quarrel wasn’t with the government that hadn’t selected him to be a claver. It was with the unwashed, uneducated grubs who had taken over White Birch and made every day of his life a living hell.
Jon had more sympathy for him now that he’d ridden a grubber bus, but even so, Dr. Carlyle was a bore and the class a waste of time.
It was, however, the only time during the school day when the students were given the opportunity to talk. So Jon wasn’t surprised to see Sarah raise her hand, although he dreaded hearing what she had to say.
“Miss Goldman wishes to speak,” Dr. Carlyle declared. “Yes, Miss Goldman, what is it?”
“I do my afterschool at the White Birch Clinic,” Sarah said. “It’s terribly understaffed. I was hoping some of you might consider changing your afterschools to clinic work. We can use all the help we can get.”
Amber Healey raised her hand but didn’t wait for Dr. Carlyle to call on her. “You actually expect us to work in White Birch?” she asked. “Touching those filthy grubs?”
“I work hard at my afterschool,” Jennifer Egan said, “tutoring the first and second graders here. That’s valuable work. The children are our future.”
“There are children in White Birch, too,” Sarah said. “With diseases claver kids don’t get, like asthma and pneumonia.”
“That’s not our fault,” Zachary said. “We breathe the same lousy air they do.”
“That’s right,” Elizabeth Jenkins said. “But we know enough to take care of our children, not let them grow up like wild animals.”
“Most grubs wouldn’t even go to church if the guards didn’t make them,” Amber said. “They’d rather get drunk.”
“I’d rather get drunk, too,” Ryan said, and everyone except Dr. Carlyle and Sarah laughed.
“Why do we even have a clinic for the grubs?” Tyler asked.
“Because they’re human beings,” Sarah said.
“I don’t know,” Ryan said. “You ever see a naked grubber girl?”
This time even Dr. Carlyle laughed.
“Maybe there shouldn’t be a clinic,” Tyler said. “We need the strong, healthy grubs to do the manual labor, and we pay them enough for their food and rent and potka. But the weak grubs, the useless ones, are a drain on all of us. Why not let them die naturally so there’d be more resources for the ones who actually work?”
Half the kids in the class burst into applause.
“It’s an interesting question,” Dr. Carlyle said. “I won’t ask your response, Miss Goldman, because I know what it is. Let’s hear from someone else. You, Mr. Evans. As our resident slip, do you think there should be a clinic for grubs?”
“I can’t give an objective answer,” Jon replied. “I have family in White Birch. They use the clinic.”
“Evans is half grub,” Ryan said. “You can smell it.”
The kids laughed.
“What if you didn’t have family there?” Mr. Carlyle persisted. “Would you think there should be a clinic?”
What Jon thought was he hated Mr. Carlyle’s guts, and he wasn’t too fond of his friends, either. The clinic was important to Sarah, and Sarah was important to Jon.
But Lisa hadn’t heard about her evaluation yet. She and Gabe had to be his first priority. Sarah and her ideals would have to wait.
“I think if we lived in a perfect world, everyone would have health care,” he said. “But this isn’t a perfect world. People who are a lot smarter than me make the decisions. If they think the clinic is a good idea, I’m not going to disagree with them. If they ever decide the clinic isn’t a good idea, I won’t disagree with them, either.”
“So what you’re saying is you’ll just go along with whatever you’re told,” Sarah said. “Follow the rules and don’t question.”
“Are you suggesting, Miss Goldman, that you are smarter than the people who make the rules?” Dr. Carlyle demanded.
“Don’t you think you’re smarter than they are?” Sarah asked.
“Miss Goldman, you are very close to treason,” Dr. Carlyle said.
“I don’t see why,” Sarah persisted. “You’re a college professor. You have a PhD. You complain about the way you’re treated.”
“I complain, as you call it, about the people I am forced to share my hometown with,” Dr. Carlyle said. “The dregs of humanity, looking for nothing but handouts.”
“They work ten hours a day six days a week,” Sarah said.
“So do clavers,” Jennifer said. “My father works longer than that. I never see him. And he’s doing real work, valuable work. Our domestics eat our food and sleep in our homes, and if they had their way, we’d be serving them.”
“That’s right,” Amber said. “Grubs wouldn’t have anything to eat if it weren’t for us. And now you’re saying we should give up our afterschools to hold some grub’s hand and tell her not to work so hard.”
“You’re not from around here, Sarah,” Jennifer said. “You don’t understand how things are. You should keep quiet, not tell us what we should do.”
“You’re right,” Sarah said. “I’m not from here. Maybe because I’m not, I understand things better than you do.”
“You have some nerve,” Amber said. “
Thinking you’re smarter than we are because you’re from back east.”
“It’s not hard to be smarter than you,” Sarah muttered.
Jon willed her to shut up. But he never could make Sarah do what he wanted.
“Let me explain something,” Sarah said. “There is nobody, nobody, important living in Sexton. Not a senator or a judge or a governor. You think you’re important because you have more than everyone else around here. But you have nothing compared to other enclaves. You know what those clavers think of you, those senators and judges? They think you’re farmers, grub farmers. All those greenhouses that are going up? They’re to feed the governors, not us. You’re one drought away from losing your fancy homes and your domestics.” She shook her head. “You have a lot more in common with the people in White Birch than you do with the people with power. Today’s claver is tomorrow’s grub.”
“Are you calling me a grub?” Amber shrieked.
“I wouldn’t insult grubs by calling you one,” Sarah said.
“Grubby, grubby, grubby,” Tyler started chanting. It was stupid and meaningless, but the rest of the class joined in, pointing at Sarah and calling her grubby.
Jon mouthed the word but didn’t say it. It was a ridiculous compromise, but he didn’t know what else to do.
The lunch bell rang as the class was getting louder and louder. Sarah was the first to grab her books and stand up. As she walked down the aisle, Zachary stuck his leg out, and she stumbled over it. Even Dr. Carlyle burst out laughing.
“Come on, Evans,” Tyler said. “Let’s see what happens to Little Miss Grub in the cafeteria.”
Jon didn’t want to see. But he had no choice.
Sarah went to the table where she always ate her lunch alone. Jon followed Tyler and his teammates to their table.
Amber walked over to Sarah and spit at her. The other kids in the cafeteria cheered, and Amber bowed.
Luke got up and, taking his lunch plate with him, walked toward Sarah’s table.
“This’ll be good,” Ryan said. “Wanna bet he dumps his lunch on her?”
“Let’s all do it,” Zachary said. “Let her know what we think of grub lovers.”
But all Luke did was stand by Sarah’s side and ask if he could join her. Jon and his teammates watched in silence as Luke sat at Sarah’s table and began talking with her.
“He’s crazy,” Tyler said. “Come on, guys. We’ve got soccer practice in a few minutes. Coach’ll whip him back in shape.”
Jon longed to join Sarah and Luke, but he didn’t dare. When Lisa passes her evaluation, he promised himself. Then he’d be as brave as Luke.
Friday, June 5
When Jon arrived at Sarah’s house after breakfast, he saw her standing on the front porch.
“Go away,” she said.
“Sarah, I’m sorry,” Jon said.
“I don’t care if you’re sorry,” she said. “And I don’t need to hear your excuses.”
“It isn’t an excuse,” Jon said. “Lisa hasn’t heard about the evaluation yet. I can’t do anything that might hurt her chances.”
Sarah shook her head. “Today it’s the evaluation,” she said. “Next week it’ll be because you’re a slip. You always have that one to fall back on, don’t you, Jon?”
“I am a slip,” Jon said. “You have no idea what that’s like.”
“It’s an excuse, Jon,” Sarah said. “You’re a coward, just like you told me. When you didn’t visit Julie, that wasn’t because you were a slip or Lisa had an evaluation. It was because deep down inside you’re scared. You’re weak and cowardly, and I don’t want to see you ever again.”
“Sarah,” Jon pleaded.
“Go away,” she said. “And don’t ever come back. I’ll call for a guard, Jon, if you don’t leave right now. I’m not kidding.”
“I’m sorry,” he said again, but he began walking away. He turned back once and saw Sarah standing there absolutely still.
Julie wasn’t the only one who understood him, he thought. Sarah had known him for a month, and she knew him every bit as well, and now hated him just as much.
Tuesday, June 9
Jon had never seen Lisa look so happy, so excited.
“You passed your evaluation,” he said.
Lisa raced over and hugged him. “I passed!” she cried. “We’re safe for another three years.”
“That’s great, Lisa,” Jon said. “You deserve it.”
“Oh, Jon, it’s even better than that,” she said. “Sit down. No, I’ll sit down. No, I’m too excited to sit down.”
Jon laughed. “We’ll both sit down,” he said. “Tell me what happened. How did you find out?”
“They called me in,” Lisa said. “I can’t wait to tell Gabe. I know he won’t understand, but I want to tell him anyway. Jon, I didn’t just pass. I got a promotion!”
“You’re kidding,” Jon said. “Lisa, that’s amazing.”
“I’m now head of domestic placements,” she said. “My boss got transferred. I can’t believe they hired me. I thought for sure they’d hire someone’s sister or cousin. I thought they’d hire the relative and I’d be struck having to train some idiot, or worse still, they’d say no to my evaluation to justify not giving me the job. It doesn’t matter. Maybe no relative wanted the job. Either way, I got it.”
“What are the benefits?” Jon asked.
“They offered me a choice,” Lisa replied. “I could have a bigger house, better neighborhood, but I love this neighborhood, so why should I want to move? And we don’t need a bigger house. So I decided against that right away. Instead we’re getting a personal greenhouse. Jon, we’ll be able to grow our own fruits and vegetables. Herbs. Do you know how much I’ve missed fresh herbs?”
“That’s great,” Jon said.
Lisa laughed. “Don’t worry, you won’t have to work in it,” she said, but then she lowered her voice. “Whichever I chose, I’d be getting a third domestic. I had this amazing idea, Jon. I’m going to arrange it so that Miranda gets the job.”
“Miranda?” Jon said.
“Quiet,” Lisa said. “Val might hear you.”
“I’m sorry,” Jon whispered. “But Miranda working here?”
“It makes a lot of sense, Jon,” Lisa replied. “The baby could share the nursery with Gabe. Carrie can look after both of them while Miranda works in the greenhouse.”
“What about Alex?” Jon asked, still trying to understand how it would work.
“He’d keep the apartment, I guess,” Lisa said. “Miranda and the baby can take the bus Saturday nights with Val and Carrie. But Miranda wouldn’t have to work nearly so hard, and she wouldn’t have the commute, and she’d be able to look in on her baby at mealtimes. She’ll eat better here, and the air would be better for the baby. You can see all that, can’t you, Jon?”
Jon remembered what Alex had said about Gabe being better off in Sexton than with his mother. This wasn’t exactly the same. Miranda would still be a grub, and her baby would be a grub’s baby, not a claver’s. But Lisa would treat them well, and things would be easier for them.
He wasn’t sure how he felt about having his sister being a domestic where he lived. It felt weird, wrong. But if Miranda was in the greenhouse and he was at school or at practice, he’d hardly see her anyway.
“Where would she sleep?” he asked. “Is there room for her?”
“We’ll convert the garage,” Lisa said. “It’s wired for electricity. We’ll put a heater in and a bed, some furniture, a lamp. A crib, of course. It’ll be nice and cozy for both of them.”
The garage had been his place, his and Sarah’s. And now that Lisa had passed her evaluation, there was nothing to keep him from getting Sarah back. She needed him as much as he needed her. He’d make her forgive him.
“How about if I move into the garage?” he asked. “Miranda could have my room.”
Lisa shook her head. “That’s sweet, Jon, but it wouldn’t work. No one can know that she’s family, or we’
ll all get in trouble. Besides, in a year you’ll pass your evaluation and move into the Sexton dorm. Carrie will get transferred, and Gabe will move into your room. Miranda and her baby can have the nursery then.”
“Have you talked to Miranda?” Jon asked.
Lisa shook her head. “I’ll go there on Sunday and talk to all of them,” she said. “Laura’s going to be the hardest one to convince. She’s so possessive of Miranda. But I’ll talk her into it. It’s what’s best for Miranda and the baby. Laura will see that.”
Good news, weird news, Jon thought. My sister the grub.
But Lisa was right. In a year, he’d either be in the Sexton dorm or thrown out of Sexton. And in a year Alex might have his truck. Or he and Miranda might decide to move to that place Matt had told them about. Or the moon might crash into the earth and they’d all be dead anyway.
“Congratulations,” he said to Lisa. “Now go tell Gabe the good news.”
Wednesday, June 10
Jon walked over to the table where Luke and Sarah were sitting. “Lisa passed her evaluation,” he said to Luke, pretending not to notice that Sarah was there. “She even got a promotion.”
“That must be a relief,” Luke said. “I know you’ve been worrying about it.”
Jon nodded. “She’s feeling a lot better about things,” he said. “I am, too.”
Sarah kept still.
“That’s it,” Jon said. “Just thought you’d want to know.”
But as he walked back to Tyler’s table, he could sense Sarah looking at him.
Things are about to get better, he told himself. He’d learned from his lessons. He’d be the man Sarah wanted him to be and then she would have to forgive him.
Friday, June 12
Luke lived almost a mile away, but there was no bus that went through the neighborhoods, so Jon walked there. He’d been to Luke’s a few times but never without an invitation. He didn’t think Luke would mind, though.