Boy on a Black Horse

by Springer, Nancy;

  That was me, for all the good it did. Chav had already heard more than he could bear. He couldn’t take it. Trying to get away from the table, he knocked over his chair, staggering like he couldn’t walk. He fell on the floor, curled up against the wall with his hands over his head as if people were hitting him. He was shaking all over.

  “Chav!” I knelt down beside him and tried to hold him. He flinched away from me, hiding his face with his arms. Lee knelt down too and stroked his shoulders. Baval stood looking at all of us.

  “But it’s what he wants too!” Baval was trying not to cry. “What’s the matter with him?”

  “He’ll be okay, Baval,” Lee said. It sure didn’t look like it—Chav was moaning. She tried to hug him, but he pulled away from her. She sighed and tried to explain to Baval, “You always had him to take care of you, but nobody was taking care of him. He’s scared. He needs time.”

  “But—but Chav’s never scared!”

  “He just never showed you before,” I said. “He couldn’t.”

  Little Chavali came over and patted Chav’s hair. He lay there a minute, but then he sat up and uncurled just enough to grab her and hug her and rock her as if she had been crying. She snuggled up against him, and the two of them stayed like that for a long time.

  Liana knelt in front of them. “Chav,” she requested, “please give it just a few more days. Until you get a chance to talk to the doctor.” But he didn’t answer her.

  Dinner was only half eaten, but we cleared the table anyway. Nobody was hungry anymore.

  I couldn’t sleep that night.

  Chav felt time ticking louder and louder inside his chest as if his whole body were a bomb wired to explode. A while after midnight he decided it was no use waiting any longer. Silent as a cat, he got up and walked to the room where they had put Baval when he got sick. He touched his younger brother on the shoulder. For once Baval sat up right away, wide-awake, as if he had been lying there awake.

  “Things are bad when you can’t sleep,” Chav teased.

  “Chav, please say we can stay.” Baval’s voice quivered. He was almost twelve, but he acted like a little boy. Chav had noticed this before, but up until now it had been okay in a way. It was what Chav had wanted, to give Baval back some of his childhood. But now Baval had to grow up. Now everything was different, dangerous. Chav felt the darkness in his heart galloping harder and fiercer than ever before.

  “You can stay.” Chav’s voice was gentle, because he meant it. “You and Chavali stay with Gray and Liana. They’ll take good care of you.” Better than I ever did. I should have known I’d blow it. You were cold and hungry a lot of the time. You and Chavali got sick.

  “No, Chav!” The kid bolted up out of his covers. “You stay too.”

  “Don’t try to find our father,” Chav went on, hurrying to stay ahead of the black feeling that surged and pounded in his chest. “We don’t have a Gypsy father. All those stories I told you were lies.”

  That’s me. Typical Gypsy. A liar.

  “No, they weren’t! They weren’t! They were good!”

  “Shhhh. You’re going to wake Liana.” But what Chav needed to say was important enough that he had to keep going. He took his kid brother by the shoulders and pushed him down until he was sitting on the bed again. “Baval, you’ve got to listen to me just this once. Our real father used to beat the crap out of me, okay?”

  “No! No, that’s not true!” Baval’s voice rose to a yell. He wasn’t listening, just getting hysterical.

  He can’t bear it. Not what happened to Mom, not any of it. That’s why he can’t remember. He probably doesn’t even remember his own real name anymore.

  But someday he might.

  Keeping his voice low and calm, Chav told him, “Listen, all I want you to understand is, don’t go near him, okay?”

  “No! No, you stay with me!”

  “I can’t,” Chav said very softly. Damn it, if you would face things, remember them, you would understand.

  Baval squirmed away from his hands, lunged off the other side of the bed, and started scrambling into his jeans.

  “What the hell are you doing?”

  “Coming—with you.”

  “Damn it, forget about me! I—I’m toilet paper, okay? Flush me down the John. Just stay here and be happy.”

  “You—try to go, I’ll—follow you.” Baval was crying.

  There was a sound. Chav turned. Gray stood at the bedroom door.

  She was wearing a big white T-shirt that used to belong to her dead father. She slept in those things, and to Chav they always made her look like an orphaned angel with its outgrown robe too short. A big, long-legged, clownish, plain-faced rescuing angel. The way he felt about Gray scared him to death.

  She came in and hugged Baval to calm him down but looked straight at Chav. And she said what she was thinking straight out. That’s the way she was.

  “Don’t go away,” she said. “I know you like it here, I know you like Lee. And me, a little.”

  Her, a lot. Too much. He shook his head hard. “Liking I could handle,” he said hoarsely. All his life he had liked people sometimes and left them behind. Damn his rich gadjo father, there had been homes in Florida, Virginia, New York. There had been private day schools, one after another. There had been horses, left behind. There had been friends and friends left behind. Liking was manageable.

  But loving was not. If you let yourself love somebody, anybody, then you were in a trap, and terrible, terrible pain followed.

  “What is it, Chav? Chav, tell me.”

  His face must have changed. She had stepped back. She looked frightened of him. It was bad, how sometimes things showed in his face.

  No, it was good, because he was bad, clear through. That was why his father had punished him, because he was a bad person. They had to understand that.

  Bad people lied. His poems and stories were all just that, lies. For a while there he had wanted to tell the truth so that people would understand after he was gone, but why bother anymore? It would all be over soon. He would be a liar. That way they would hate him when they found out, they would not grieve, it would be easier on them.

  “Nothing,” he told Gray. “It’s nothing.”

  Liana was peering in the doorway now too, and Chavali, holding Lee’s hand. Chav didn’t look at them, but he said to his brother, “Baval, go back to bed, go to sleep. I’m not going anywhere.”

  The kid looked up at him with his face red and blotched from chicken pox and crying. “You’ll stay?”

  “Yes,” Chav lied. Well, it was true at least for a little while. He couldn’t go anywhere that night, with everyone awake and watching him. He’d manage to wait a short while longer. Pick his time.

  Baval cried at him, “You promise?”

  “Yes.” They would hate him for this, and that was good. Hate was good. It would make them forget him sooner. “Yes, I promise.”

  CHAPTER

  10

  The next morning was Saturday. I should have been sleeping in, but instead I was up at dawn, peeking into Chav’s bedroom—yes, he was there, lying in his bed. Then another door creaked, and Liana looked out of her room at me.

  “Gray,” she whispered, beckoning to me.

  I went in and we sat on her bed. “Are you okay?” she asked.

  “Sure. Why wouldn’t I be?”

  “Well, I told you to think things over for a few days, but last night I promised Baval—”

  “You had to,” I told her.

  “That’s what I thought. But now Chav—”

  I said, “You had to tell Baval yes. You know I’ll be okay, but he needs help. So do Chavali and Chav.”

  “You want them to stay?”

  “Yes!” There was no doubt in me anymore. Every minute I didn’t have Chav in my sight now I was afraid he had run away. If he left, I would never be able to forget him. I would spend my life wondering what had become of him. “Of course I do.”

  Lee smiled with reli
ef, but her eyes got misty. “You are so much like your mother,” she said. “So bighearted and strong.”

  Big-nosed would have been more like it. “Too bad I look like my dad.”

  “C’mon. My brother was a sweet man. He loved to read.” Lee gave me a thoughtful look. “Did they ever tell you why they named you Grace?”

  Of course they had, because I’d complained at them so often about how I hated my name. But I wanted to hear what Lee said. “I forget.”

  “Because it was your mother’s mother’s name—but also because of something a writer named Hemingway said. He defined courage as ‘grace under pressure.’ Not physical grace but a kind of—a kind of inner balance. So to them it was a name that meant courage. They knew you would be a brave person.”

  “Right,” I said, being sarcastic.

  “Gray, it’s true. You are the gutsiest kid I know.”

  I shook my head. “Chav is,” I said. “Taking Baval and Chavali with him when he ran away, and taking care of them for a year and a half, that’s amazing, that’s the gutsiest thing I ever heard of.” Most kids would have turned against their brothers and sisters, but Chav had given everything he had. And he was paying for it now.

  On the way back to my room to get dressed, I checked on him. He was still lying there, but my heart pounded at the thought of losing him, my head hurt with thinking of how to help him get well. Grace under pressure, that was me.

  Topher, I mean Chris, came over that morning, which was kind of unusual, because Saturday was his busy day. And when I opened the door and said hi he didn’t smile, which was even more unusual. He carried his hat and a copy of Horse Report magazine with his finger stuck between the pages.

  “Hi, Liana.” He smiled at her, but the smile didn’t quite reach his eyes. “I’ve got to talk to Chav.”

  “What’s the matter, Chris?”

  He didn’t get a chance to tell her. Chav came into the living room like he had been standing in the hallway waiting for his cue. He held his face so still I could tell he had expected this visit all along, except that maybe he had figured it would come from Grandpa, not Topher.

  Topher nodded at him, and he looked steadily back. They had barely ever talked, but somehow they seemed to understand each other.

  “Is this about Rom?” Liana asked.

  “It’s okay,” Chav said to her. What did that mean? It was okay if he went to jail? It was okay if he gave up and died?

  “Been looking through my old mags,” Topher said, mostly to Chav. “Took a while to find him.” He opened the magazine to the page he was marking with his finger. I didn’t want to look, because I knew what I’d see, but I had to look anyway. Sure enough. A big glossy picture of Rom, with “MISSING: Fuerza Epica of Spanish Dancer Ranch” printed underneath.

  “He’s a grand champion Spanish Barb,” Topher said. “Worth about ninety thousand dollars.”

  That shook me. And I saw Liana turn pale. “Oh no,” she whispered.

  Everyone was staring at Chav. He looked through us. “They had him in a razor-wire pen,” he said in that quiet, gritty way of his, “with this big pig-faced farm horse stud beating up on him. Too big for him to handle. Kicking him and driving him into the wire, cutting him open. He was bleeding all over. No way I was going to leave him in there.”

  Topher looked shocked and surprised. “There’s no razor wire at the Spanish Dancer Ranch,” he said. “I’ve been there.”

  “I’m telling you the truth.” Chav’s voice went so soft I knew he was scorching mad.

  “I believe you. Give me some credit. Where did you find Rom? What state?”

  Chav shook his head.

  “For crying out loud, I’m not a cop. I’m not going to haul you away.” Now Topher was a little mad, but he got past it. “Okay, what month, then?”

  “Spring.”

  “You sure?”

  “Yes. Warm weather.”

  “The horse has been missing since January.” Topher gave Chav a quizzical look. “I think you stole him from whoever stole him in the first place.”

  Chav said nothing. “Is that better?” Liana asked Topher anxiously.

  “Maybe not technically. But it makes me feel better.” Topher gave Liana a one-armed hug at the same time he was giving Chav his wry look again. “Chav, we’ve got to get the horse back to Spanish Dancer Ranch.”

  Chav had that black-ice glare in his eyes, but he looked straight at Topher. “They will treat him right there? They will not beat him or put him in wire fence?”

  “God, no.” Topher let go of Liana and studied Chav. “You’re quite a kid, you know? Anybody else would be asking what’s going to happen to them, but you’re worried about the horse.”

  “I don’t care what happens to me.”

  Topher looked at Chav some more, then said, “The scary thing is, I almost believe that.”

  Chav said nothing.

  “Well, I care, damn it,” Topher said. “Will you let me handle it?”

  Chav didn’t say no.

  Silence must have been answer enough. Topher headed toward the phone, then seemed to remember he was not at home. “Can I make a long-distance call?” he asked Liana. “I’ll—”

  “You will not pay for it,” she snapped before he could offer. “For God’s sake.”

  That made him grin as he dialed the number in the magazine ad. But he got serious as he waited for somebody to answer.

  Somebody did. “Yes, this is about Fuerza Epica,” Topher barked into the phone in a voice that didn’t sound like his. “You want to know where he is, there’s got to be no questions asked, or I’m hanging up right now. What? No, you’re not putting me on hold. You heard what I said. Do I hang up?” He listened a moment. “Okay, do that. I’ll call back.”

  He disconnected the phone with his finger and told us, “They’re getting the boss.”

  Liana nodded. We were all standing there watching Topher, including Chav and Baval and Chavali. Nobody said a word. It was like we were afraid to say anything.

  He called back in a few minutes, and this time apparently a different person answered the phone, and Topher said in his normal voice, a soft drawl, “Okay, no questions asked? Good. You want to write down some directions? No, it’s okay, ma’am, you I trust.” This was somebody he knew something about. He gave his name, phone number, and directions to his farm. “The horse hasn’t been with me long,” he said. “He’s scarred up some, he’s been mistreated, but not by anybody I know. Not recently. He seems fine now.” A pause. “No, I can’t tell you more. Sorry, ma’am. I’ll expect you this evening, then.”

  He hung up and stood there looking at the phone.

  Then he looked at Chav like he was trying to think of what to say. But all he came up with was, “Rom’s going tonight.”

  Chav stood silent and rigid beside me, all dressed in black as if for a funeral, and I could practically hear his heart breaking. I snapped, “Topher, he knows. He heard.”

  Topher nodded, at me I guess, but he kept looking at Chav. Then he said, “I think you should come out to the stable with me. Say good-bye to him.”

  And Chav surprised all of us. He nodded and put on the new black winter jacket Liana had bought him and went with Topher.

  I just stood there and watched them walk to the car and didn’t even ask to go along. Me, the all-time want-to-ride girl, staying home? But it seemed to me that this day for Chav was like the nights when he walked alone and sang to the darkness. It didn’t include me.

  Standing beside me, watching out the front window like I was, Baval said in a high, anxious voice, “He’ll be back. He promised to stay.”

  “I want to stay too,” said Chavali.

  “That’s right.” I took her hand. “You’re going to.”

  We watched Topher’s beat-up Blazer drive off.

  “He promised he’d stay,” Baval said again the same way.

  “That’s right,” I told him. I had heard Chav’s promise too.

  The sun was
pouring in the window. Why did I feel so cold?

  Topher’s call came sometime after lunch. Just by the way Liana stood there after she answered the phone I knew something was wrong.

  “I’ll be right out, Chris.” Those were nearly the only words she said. Then she hung up and grabbed for her jacket. “Gray, stay here. You’re in charge.”

  “You’re not going without me!” No way was I going to stay behind when I knew it had something to do with—“It’s about Chav, isn’t it? He’s run off, right?” I got between her and the door so she couldn’t get past me. “I’m going with you.”

  “Gray, you can’t! He took Christopher’s gun.”

  That shocked me silly for a minute. I stood there.

  “Lock all the doors and pull the curtains. I’ve got to go see if I can do anything.” Liana headed past me, but I grabbed her by the arm. I’m as big as she is, bigger actually, and I’m a lot younger. If it came to a wrestling match, I doubted she could make me stay behind.

  But I didn’t have to fight her. I’m pretty good at arguing. “If he has a gun, what makes you think we’re safe here by ourselves?” I pointed out. Not that I ever for a minute thought Chav would hurt any of us. But Aunt Lee was a parent, so she had to be scared of everything. It was in her job description.

  “Damn, you’re right,” she muttered. “Okay, come on, all three of you. Hurry.”

  Baval and Chavali were standing there in their slippers and pj’s, hanging on to each other like the roof of their lives was caving in. Probably that’s how they felt. Chav had always been the solidest thing in the world to them. I threw coats around them and herded them to the car before Lee could change her mind.

  They huddled together like puppies in the backseat while Lee tried out areas of her speedometer she’d never used before. All the way out to the stable the only thing she said was, “He hit Chris on the head and took the gun.”

  It must have been the rifle Topher had been keeping in the corner of the stable. I asked, “Did he take Rom?”

  Liana just lifted one hand like she didn’t know.

  There were two cop cars parked in the stable yard, their blue flashing lights looking chilly even in the sunshine. Topher was okay—I saw him first thing, standing there holding an ice pack to the back of his head. The second thing I saw was Grandpa, facing off with him.