Free Carrying Mason by Joyce Magnin

so pretty. Where is this house? Is it Aunt Sapphire’s house in Bryn Mawr?”
    Ruby Day shook her head violently again. She balled up her fists and smacked her temples. I grabbed her hands and pulled them down to her lap. “Ruby Day. Ruby Day, what’s wrong?”
    “Don’t want to go back, Luna.”
    “What is this place, Ruby Day? Where was this picture taken?”
    She rubbed her eyes under her glasses and snuffed back tears and snot.
    “Don’t want to go back.”
    “I know, I know. You won’t have to. I promise,” I said, even though I didn’t know why she was so scared. Or why she was showing me the picture now. I took the opportunity to look at the other pictures without touching them. There were mostly photos of people standing around in small groups, near that same large house.
    Ruby Day picked up another picture. “This is my daddy. He’s dead. Like Mason.”
    I looked into the eyes of a man with perfectly round glasses, a balding head, a large nose, and the kindest smile I had ever seen in my life. “He looks nice.”
    Ruby Day sat back on her heels and rocked. She whimpered with a sound like a little cat. My heart raced on account of I didn’t know what to do. I let Ruby Day rock and whimper for another minute or two until I said, “Ruby Day, I think you should go in your room and rest. You couldn’t have gotten a good night’s sleep on this hard floor.”
    Ruby Day stopped rocking. “Okay, I’ll go.”
    I helped her up and led her toward the steps. “Go on,” I said. “Get under your covers and sleep. I’ll clean up the mess.”
    For a second I thought I saw something like fear flash in Ruby Day’s eyes as she looked over at the spilled contents of the shoebox. But then she yawned. “It’s gonna be okay, right Luna?”
    What else could I say? “I know it will. Isn’t that God’s promise—all things work together for what’s best.”
    I watched Ruby Day climb the stairs.
Sometimes God’s best isn’t always what we want,
I thought.
    The contents of Ruby Day’s shoebox were scattered everywhere. Considering how secretive she was about it, I was surprised she didn’t insist on cleaning it up before going to bed, but then again, Ruby Day didn’t always remember to make the wisest choice. I rifled through the pictures hoping to see something that would clue me in on why Sapphire wanted Ruby Day to move back to Philadelphia.
    I saw another photo on the floor and grabbed it. It was also Ruby Day standing in front of the same house, but there was a small sign in that photo that read
Henry R. Mason Home for the Feebleminded.
    Home for the Feebleminded? I had heard of places like that from Mama. She said that Ruby Day was fortunate she had never been sent to such a home. But now it appeared that the real truth about Ruby Day was coming out. And Aunt Sapphire was in on it.
    I called Mama.
    “Mama,” I said. “I got to talk to you and Daddy.”
    “Is something wrong? Is Ruby Day all right?”
    “Oh, Mama. Something is wrong and Ruby Day is not all right.”
    “Do you want me to come over there, Luna?” Mama’s voice sounded sweet and comforting. Just like always. “Is she hurt or sick?”
    “No. She’s not hurt or sick. Can you come in a little while? Will Daddy skip church this morning? I don’t think I should bring Ruby Day to church.”
    “I don’t know, Luna. You know how he is, and today is Communion Sunday.”
    “But Mama, this is really important.”
    “I’ll talk to him.”
    I hung up the phone and went to check on Ruby Day. She was sound asleep under her baby blue quilt. From where I stood in the doorway, looking at her, you couldn’t really tell that Ruby Day was retarded orfeebleminded or any of the other words they’ve come up with to describe her.
    I needed to take a deep breath, which I did, and then I let it out slowly like Mama told me to do when I felt worried.
    “Don’t you fret, Ruby Day,” I whispered as I closed the door. “I’ll figure something out.