Ruby in the Sky

by Jeanne Zulick Ferruolo

  “Washington, DC,” I said.

  “Oh. That will be wonderful for you,” she said, but right then her forehead became all wrinkly and her eyes went back to being as dark as a lunar eclipse.

  I reached out and placed my gloved hands on top of hers. “But if Mom and I haven’t left Fortin yet, maybe we could watch the Ruby Moon together.” When she didn’t say anything, I asked, “Who named this the Moon Bench?”

  Abigail’s eyes brimmed with tears. “My daughter,” she said. “I used to travel to Boston for work. I’d be away all week and come home on weekends. But as soon as I’d get home, no matter what the weather, my daughter and I would come here to look for the moon. Even in the middle of winter.”

  As tears began to stream down her face, I tried to think of something, anything, to say to make her stop crying. I wanted to tell her about my dad. I wanted to scream, I lost someone, too! But my tight, scratchy throat wouldn’t let me.

  Abigail pulled out a rag and mopped her face. “We have to go before it gets too dark.” With that she hopped up from the bench and started shuffling down the hill.

  I stared at the empty space where Abigail had been sitting and I saw words and a date carved into the wood. MOON BENCH, it said. LILLIAN ROSE, JANUARY 2, 1964.

  When I realized Abigail wasn’t waiting for me, I jumped up and followed. The woods were darker and colder now and I had to push myself to keep up. Bob was tired, too. He fell in line between us.

  When we got back to camp, Abigail shuffled straight to her shed. The wind was gusting harder, knocking the birdseed containers together. “What about the birds?” I called after her.

  Abigail removed her snowshoes. She made a swiping movement with her hand as if to say, Forget it. Then she disappeared inside and I heard the latch being hooked.

  As birds gathered in the bushes, I removed my snowshoes and leaned them against the house with the ski poles. I stared at its boarded windows.

  Stay out. Stay out. Stay out, it seemed to warn.

  There was a crack in the plywood covering the closest window. I glanced over my shoulder, then stepped onto the large stone in front of the door. I leaned far enough so that I could squint through the crack. But all I saw was darkness.

  Bob was licking his feet where the snow had caked. More birds gathered in the bushes. I returned to the seed can, filled the scoop, and made my way to the Chock full o’Nuts container. After emptying the scoop, I returned for more, but when I dug the scoop in, there was a clink sound. I buried my hand in the seeds and pulled out a metal ring with three keys. My eyes darted between the keys in my hand and the keyhole in the door.

  Bob was by my side now. I pushed the keys back in with the seeds and filled the rest of the containers. When I was done, I secured the lid. I pulled Bob’s leash from my pocket and attached it to his collar. “Come, Bob,” I said.

  Together, we ran from Abigail’s camp, the full moon following us the whole way.

  * * *

  When I got to the house, Cecy’s truck was in the driveway. Smoke billowed from the chimney.

  “Boots off,” Cecy said as I shut the door behind me.

  “Where’s Mom?” I moved in front of the woodstove, standing as near as I could without touching it. Its heat wrapped around me like a blanket. The smell of roasting meat filled the house. My stomach rumbled.

  “Mr. Saleem needed her to stay late and help with inventory,” Cecy said as she opened the oven door and took out a roast. It was surrounded by baked potatoes. The pan crackled as she set it on the stove. I was dying to cut off a piece of meat and pop it in my mouth, but I knew Cecy would have a fit.

  “Why does he need so much help, anyway?”

  “It’s hard for him to get around, you know, with his one leg and all, so it works out well. Your mom was lucky to get a job after her little show. She’s not in a position to complain about working late.”

  I tried to brush off the prickly feeling Cecy’s words gave me. I wasn’t in the mood to get into it with her. I hung up my coat and stepped into the kitchen. I opened a bag of chips and shoved some in my mouth. “He looks like he has two legs to me,” I said.

  “I didn’t cook this so you could spoil your appetite with junk.” She snatched the chip bag from me. “One of his legs is a prosthetic. He was home in Syria with his family when bombs hit. Can you imagine?”

  I swallowed hard, the chips sticking to my throat. I leaned into the sink and drank water from the tap. Cecy gave me a look as I wiped my mouth with the back of my sleeve.

  “What?” I said.

  “Set the table, please.” She started to hand me three plates, then paused, making her sour-milk face at them. “These need to be washed. Has your mom used the kitchen yet?”

  “Cecy, do you know the lady down the road?”

  She motioned for me to move out of her way. “Mrs. Jacobs?”

  “Why doesn’t she live in her house?”

  “Did you see her?”

  “She asked me to help her feed the birds.”

  “Dry this.” Cecy handed me a plate. We hadn’t used these dishes since DC. My stomach felt funny as I grabbed a towel and began wiping.

  “Why does she live like that?” I paused to trace the plate’s blue trim with my finger. I hadn’t realized how much I missed the dishes.

  Cecy shook her head. “I don’t know, Ruby. I guess she’s sad.”

  “Some kids say she killed her family in that house, and that’s why she doesn’t go inside.”

  “That is gossip fed by stupidity,” Cecy said. “I love this town, but there are some people here who don’t have the sense God gave a goose.” She held out another dripping dish. I took it from her.

  “Abigail knows a lot about the moon,” I said.

  “Mrs. Jacobs? Yes, she should.” Cecy stared into space as if she was trying to remember something. “She was some kind of computer scientist. One of the first, I think—a very long time ago—and did some work with astronauts or space or something.” Cecy shook her head. “Lillian was always so proud of her.”

  “Who’s Lillian?”

  But Cecy seemed lost in thought, as if she had actually traveled back in time. “Mrs. Jacobs worked a lot. She commuted all the way to Boston. I didn’t realize it at the time, but that was a hard thing back then, especially in a small town like Fortin.”

  “Why?”

  Cecy gave a quick laugh. “It was a different time, Ruby. Some people believed women should stay home and raise kids, not jet off to work jobs they thought only men should do.” Cecy soaped another dish. “Plus, the Jacobses were always private. Even before—” Cecy shook her head. “It kind of made her an oddity in town. People didn’t get her.”

  “If she was doing something so cool, why didn’t she tell everyone about it?”

  Cecy shrugged. “I don’t know.”

  I stared at Cecy. None of what she was saying squared up with the lady I’d met in the woods. “Are you sure we’re talking about the same person?”

  Cecy shook a wooden spoon at me. “Don’t think you know someone because you met them once,” she said. I felt a lecture coming on. “You know, women like Mrs. Jacobs paved the way for girls today, and it was no easy row to hoe. You, Miss Ruby, can enter any field you want—science, computers, engineering—because of women like Abigail Jacobs.”

  I grabbed three glasses from the cupboard. Cecy took them from me. “No wonder you drink from the faucet.” She began washing those, too. “You know, my mother told me a story once.” She stared into the sink. “Something about Mrs. Jacobs having a piece of an asteroid, or … no, it was a rock from the moon.” Cecy nodded. “I think she said she had gone to visit and bring the Jacobses a pie and Mrs. Jacobs showed it to her. Imagine that.”

  Dad and I had seen a real moon rock at the Air and Space Museum once. I told him it looked like a stone from someone’s driveway. Oh no, Ruby, he had said, gazing at it as if it were magic. You can’t talk about a piece of the moon like that! Imagine what it took to
bring it here. If you held that rock in your hand, you’d be holding the moon itself. He grinned. Make a wish, he told me. And right then I had wished I could do something to make my dad’s eyes sparkle as much as that moon rock had.

  “You know, it’s funny.” Cecy interrupted my thoughts. “I hadn’t seen Mrs. Jacobs in ages and then, there she was, feeding the birds at the town green the other morning.”

  Cecy lifted the roast onto a platter and began making gravy in the pan.

  “But what happened? What made her become … I don’t know, it’s weird how she lives.”

  Cecy shrugged. “After everything happened, she … well, she kind of disappeared.”

  “But what happened?”

  Cecy opened her mouth as if to answer, but instead blinked her eyes a bunch of times. “It’s good you’re helping her, Ruby. That poor lady could use a friend.”

  Right then the door burst open and Mom struggled inside, hugging an old box television set.

  In the commotion, Bob grabbed one of Cecy’s boots and began jumping and dancing around Mom hoping she’d play tug-of-war with it.

  “Down, Bob! You’re going to make me drop this,” Mom said.

  “That’s my good boot!” Cecy yelled. “Don’t let that dog ruin my boot!”

  Mom lowered the television. There was a newspaper on top. She tossed it onto the table and took off her coat. “Wow, it smells great in here.”

  “Where did you get that TV?” I asked. “It’s so old.”

  “Mr. Saleem said we could use it. If I can get it to work, that is.”

  Cecy yanked her boot out of Bob’s teeth. “That dog needs training,” she said.

  I cleared the newspaper from the table. The headline said: MAYOR PUSHES THROUGH FORTIN ANTI-HOMELESS ORDINANCE.

  Cecy snatched the paper from my hand. “Eton has nothing better to do than drum up drama. Look at this new law.” She read, “Beginning February 1, it will be illegal to live in any structure that lacks running water and sanitation.”

  “What does that mean?” I asked.

  “Well, I don’t have to tell you how I feel about him,” Mom said as she washed her hands. “What homeless is he even talking about? If he wants to see homeless people, he should visit Washington, DC.”

  “I can think of only one person this affects. Your friend, Ruby,” Cecy said.

  “What friend?” Mom said.

  I made myself busy draining the carrots.

  Cecy squinted at the article. “I don’t even think this is constitutional.”

  Mom smiled. “Ruby, do you have a friend you haven’t told me about?” She put her hands on her hips.

  “Ruby met your neighbor. Abigail Jacobs.”

  From the corner of my eye I saw Mom’s smile disappear. I knew she wouldn’t say anything in front of Cecy, but I could tell she was mad.

  Cecy folded the newspaper. “Let’s eat,” she said.

  “It’s fine, Mom,” I said. “Cecy knows her.”

  Mom gave me her We’ll talk about this later look.

  As we dug in, Mom said, “So far, this is the best part of my day. Thank you, guys.” She smiled at me, and for the first time I noticed the wrinkles that used to go away when she got home from work were still there. She looked older and more tired than ever.

  “Will you be working every Saturday evening?” Cecy asked.

  Mom sighed. “If Mr. Saleem can use me. I’m trying to get extra shifts. Annie is going to start picking a jury on Friday,” she said with a weak smile. “I’m going to have to take time off to be there.”

  “You’re lucky Mr. Saleem is so flexible,” Cecy said.

  Mom nodded. “He knows what it’s like to go through hard times,” she said. “I’m grateful.”

  I took a bite of the roast and couldn’t help but stare at my plate. It was all so familiar but so far away, too. I wondered if things would ever feel normal again.

  * * *

  After dinner, Mom cleaned up while Cecy and I brought firewood in from her truck. We stacked it by the woodstove. Every time we went outside I searched for the moon, but there were only clouds.

  “What’s so interesting in the sky tonight?” Cecy said to me.

  “I was wondering if it was going to snow again,” I lied.

  Cecy looked up. “Don’t think so,” she said. “But you never know. You’re in New England now, Ruby. Blink your eyes and the weather’s changed.”

  I grabbed two more logs.

  After Cecy left, I said, “I’m going to take Bob for a walk.”

  Mom was kneeling by the television set, a flashlight in one hand, a screwdriver in the other. “Did you go down to that lady’s house when I told you not to?”

  I hitched Bob’s leash. “Cecy knows her.”

  “I don’t care if she’s Cecy’s best friend. I told you not to go down there.” Mom’s voice was getting louder.

  “What am I supposed to do?” I snapped. “Sit here alone and freeze to death? Plus, Bob needs to walk.”

  Mom stared at the blank TV screen. “You know I’d rather be here with you. We need this job.”

  “I’ve only been down there a few times.”

  “You went more than once?”

  “Cecy says she’s fine. She says the lady needs a friend.”

  “You don’t know, Ruby. Some people seem perfectly nice at first…” Mom’s voice trailed off.

  “What happened to Sometimes you have to have a little faith?”

  “Well, until I meet her, I don’t want you down there.”

  “You’re never home.” I opened the door. “And she doesn’t talk to strangers.”

  “I can see why you like her.” Mom stood and handed me her flashlight. “Stay near the house.”

  I opened the front door, letting the blast of cold air chase Mom’s angry words from my brain. Outside, I breathed in the night. The sky was as clear as if someone had swept those clouds away. The moon hung like a spotlight. I felt its pull, as strong as Bob tugging me onto Specter Hill Road.

  When we reached the NO TRESPASSING sign, I stared down Abigail’s dark driveway, wondering if she was sitting by her fire or tucked inside her shed. Bob sniffed the snow as I gazed at the full moon lighting the sky. “I’ll see you on the moon tonight,” I whispered. As we headed back to the house, I hoped Abigail was looking at it, too.

  CHAPTER

  8

  “Settle down, friends. I hope everyone enjoyed the Martin Luther King Jr. holiday and teacher in-service day,” Mr. Andrews said.

  Bryce stood. “As Dr. Martin Luther King Jr.—for the Wax Museum, that is—everyone can thank me for the extra-long weekend.” He bowed as kids clapped.

  “Okay, Dr. King, save your speech for next month,” Mr. Andrews said, his eyes crinkled in a smile. “We have much work before us.” He held up a stack of index cards. “Today, you are transferring your speeches onto cards. This is all you will be able to refer to during the Wax Museum.”

  Mr. Andrews moved through the rows, distributing cards. “Most of your research should have been completed by now, but if you still have unanswered questions, you can grab a laptop from the cart.” He paused by my desk. “Ruby? Do you need any?”

  I shook my head.

  “Your finished set is due next Monday, January 24. That is less than a week from today. These will be graded. Raise your hand if you need help.”

  I got in line to get a laptop. It was my only chance to use the Internet and I had plenty of questions, but they weren’t about Michael Collins.

  At my desk, I typed Abigail Jacobs in the search field. The article I had minimized last time came up.

  FORTIN, VT. On March 4 at approximately 2049 hours, the Fortin County Sheriff’s Office was dispatched to a report of a Chevy Impala that had struck a guardrail on Specter Hill Road. The operator, Abigail Jacobs, 37, showed signs of impairment. She was taken into custody and charged with driving under the influence of alcohol and negligent operation of a motor vehicle. She will be arraigned in Super
ior Court on Monday.

  “Why are you always reading about the Bird Lady?” Ellen leaned over my desk. I closed the article and clicked on the NASA website.

  Dakota popped up next to Ellen. Her large, round eyes blinked rapidly. “Didn’t you know, Ellen?” she said with a smirk. “Ruby is the Bird Lady for the Wax Museum.”

  I kept my eyes focused on my screen.

  Ellen shuddered. “Every time I see the Bird Lady at the town green, I get completely freaked out.”

  “Don’t worry. Now that my father is mayor, he is cleaning up Fortin, just like he promised. He’s getting rid of the Bird Lady. It’s only a matter of time.”

  Trevor rolled his eyes. “How is your father getting rid of someone?” He and Bryce were sharing a laptop and I was pretty sure the only thing they were researching was a video game.

  “Yeah, what is he, a mobster?” Bryce laughed. He nudged Trevor.

  “It’s not easy being responsible for a whole town, you know, Bryce. If you don’t stay on top of things, then all the undesirables tell everyone how we’re such easy targets here in Fortin and then their freeloading friends start showing up to make you feed them and stuff.”

  Ellen looked thoughtful. “I don’t think anyone is feeding the Bird Lady. I saw her at Rucki’s buying food.”

  Dakota shot Ellen a look.

  Ellen’s mouth formed an O.

  Dakota narrowed her eyes. “I’ve seen the Bird Lady at Rucki’s. I heard that guy gives her food for free. It won’t be long before she’s arrested for something. My dad says we need to remove undesirables, like the Bird Lady, from Fortin.”

  Ahmad seemed to wince at Dakota’s mention of Rucki’s. He opened his mouth to say something, but then shook his head and started typing.

  “My mom says the Bird Lady used to be important,” Bryce said. “She worked with astronauts or something. She even has a rock from the moon inside her boarded-up house.”

  I stared at Bryce to see if he was serious.

  Dakota’s eyes narrowed. “I heard that story. My mom says the Bird Lady made it up so everyone in town would think she’s really smart.” She sniffed. “She’s a total nut job. People can’t be allowed to live in a dirty shed with no running water and then walk all over town where everybody has to see them. It’s too disturbing to watch.”