By the time they reached the creek, Wallace had picked up the pace, and Abby had to run to keep up with him. Halfway up the hill to the field, she began to feel strange again, and she realized—wildly, impossibly—that the running didn’t hurt so much anymore. Her lungs didn’t feel red hot, her throat wasn’t tight, she didn’t want to throw up.
She wished she could tell Claudia! She wished Claudia were with her that very minute. Or Marlys. Someone who would take her hand and swing around with her, laughing at the craziness of Abby running up a hill and not feeling like she was about to die.
She was panting by the time she reached the farmhouse. Wallace, she noticed, was not. Wallace stood at the top of the porch steps, eyeing Abby calmly, as though he’d just taken a stroll around the yard.
“Show-off,” Abby scolded him.
She tapped on the porch door. She waited for Mrs. Benton’s loud “Come in!” or Anders’s face at the window. She stood for a minute, two minutes. She turned to look at the driveway. The Impala was gone, but the pickup truck was there. Maybe they’d gone on a field trip. Or to Walmart.
She was about to leave when the front door clicked open behind her. Abby turned to see Matt standing in the doorway, shadowed by the screen door. “Anders had to go get his flu shot,” he told her. “He should be back in a half hour or so, if you want to wait.”
They left Matt by himself? She didn’t think Mrs. Benton and Anders ever left Matt alone in the house for more than a few minutes. It seemed like a bad idea to Abby. What if Matt got really depressed all of the sudden? Or thought someone was coming after him?
“Do you want some company?” she asked, her face growing hot. Matt would think she was stupid for asking if he wanted some eleven-year-old girl’s company. But what else was she supposed to do? She pressed on. “Because I don’t know about you, but sometimes I don’t like hanging out by myself. Sometimes I do, though. So, I mean, it’s up to you.”
Matt shrugged. “I’m okay. I saw my doctor today. I always feel good on the days I see my doc.”
Abby looked at Wallace. Wallace looked at Abby.
“Maybe I’ll just wait until they get back,” she said. She peered toward the road, willing Mrs. Benton’s car into sight. How could they have left Matt by himself?
Matt stepped out onto the porch. “You can stay if you want to, but you don’t have to. I mean it, I’m good. I’ll be okay. Everyone worries too much.”
“Oh, I’m not worried at all,” Abby said, talking over him, wanting to go, but feeling like she shouldn’t. “What would I be worried about? I just want to wait for Anders. I’ve got, well, stuff—stuff I need to talk to him about.”
Matt laughed. “I don’t need a babysitter, Abigail.”
Abby shoved her hands into her pockets and rocked back on her heels. She felt dumb. Matt was an adult. He didn’t need a kid to take care of him. But Matt wasn’t like other adults, Abby reminded herself. He was more like a broken cup that had been glued back together. Maybe the glue would hold, maybe it wouldn’t.
“I’ve been taking my meds and talking every day with my doctor at the VA,” Matt went on. “I’m real steady right now. I’m getting better.” He was quiet for a minute, then said, “You want to go see the horses? Long as you’re here?”
Abby stared at him. Horses? He wanted to see the horses?
“My doc says I need to give the horses another chance.” Matt reached over to pull a dry, brown leaf from a pot of geraniums on the porch railing, crumpling it between his fingers. “You know that horse, Ruckus? The one that girl Louise rides?”
Abby nodded.
“That’s my horse. I got him around the same time I got Wallace. He’s getting old, man. I used to ride him all the time.”
“How come you stopped?”
Matt stared straight ahead. “When I was in Iraq—” He stopped. “It was just bad, okay? Some really bad stuff happened. And it wasn’t about horses, but horses kind of trigger this feeling in me, this feeling like I can’t control things, the way I couldn’t control anything over there. That’s what my doc says, anyway. I was really scared over there, Abigail. I mean, all the time. And mad. And—” Matt rubbed his eyes. “And a lot of things. A lot of junk. But I’m trying to get better.”
He looked at Abby and smiled. “One day at a time, right, Abigail?”
Wallace led the way to the barn. Matt had a stiff-legged walk, like an old man, and Abby wanted to reach out and take his hand, help him along. She’d never felt this way about an adult before, like she was the one who was supposed to make sure everything was okay.
When they reached the door, Matt turned to Abby. “I’ve taken Ruckus out every day this week, doctor’s orders, and he’s been real steady. In fact, I’m thinking I might let Anders ride him.” He paused before going on. “Because, like I said, Ruckus is real steady. So if you wanted to ride him, you could. I’ve got an old Western saddle you could use.”
“Oh, I don’t know,” Abby said in what she hoped was a breezy sort of tone. She couldn’t believe Matt was offering to let her ride Ruckus. He was the one person she thought she was safe around when it came to horses. He should let Anders ride. Anders actually knew how, after all, unlike Abby. Well, even if Anders was allowed to ride one day, that didn’t mean Abby had to get up on a horse. “I guess I’m not really in the mood to ride.”
Matt put his hand on her shoulder. “There’s nothing to be afraid of, Abigail. Ruckus won’t run away with you.” Then he smiled. “I’m trusting Ruckus not to run away with you. I’ll hold on to the reins the whole time.”
Abby started to shake her head. Really, what was it going to take to convince Matt she wasn’t the sort of person who rode horses? He, more than anyone else, should get it. Horses were big, and people fell off them. Hadn’t Matt kept Anders from riding for that very reason?
But he’s trusting horses now, Abby told herself. That’s a big deal. That’s totally opposite of where he was just a few weeks ago. If she got up on Ruckus, it might help Matt get better. It might make him see that he had come to a safe place.
She thought about what she’d read in the article about the truck bombing. Imagined what it must have been like, to be blown into the air, flames all around you. How could you ever feel safe again after that? You’d have to work really hard at it, that was for sure. You’d have to come a long, long way.
Abby sucked in her gut. “I’m sort of scared of falling off,” she announced in a voice louder than she intended. “But I guess I could try.”
Matt nodded. “Trying is good.”
Abby followed Matt into the tack room, paying close attention to everything he was telling her about riding as he searched around for a bridle: how to grip the saddle with her knees and hold the reins in one hand while her other hand was on the saddle horn. She tried to keep her breathing steady and her mind off the fact that all of the sudden she needed to go to the bathroom. Bad.
“I got Ruckus when I was just out of high school,” Matt told Abby as they headed toward the horses’ stalls, Matt carrying the saddle, Abby walking behind him holding the bridle, halter, and reins. “I actually thought I might go work on a ranch out west.”
“Why didn’t you?” Abby asked from the alley as Matt entered Ruckus’s stall. Ruckus backed up a few steps when Matt threw the saddle on his back, and Abby did too.
“I joined the Peace Corps instead,” Matt replied, patting Ruckus on the rump. “You’re all right, boy,” he told the horse. He leaned down to tighten the saddle’s cinch strap around the horse’s girth. He didn’t sound nervous, but Abby could see his hands fumbling with the strap. “That’s where I met Anders’s mom, in Kenya. After we finished up with that, I joined the army. I’d done peace and thought I’d give war a try.”
“Really?” What a weird thing to say!
Matt gave one last tug, then motioned for Abby to hand him the halter and bridle. “No, not really.” He laughed. “I joined the army so they’d pay for college when I was done. But I never
got done. I stayed in. Anders was born in Germany, did he ever tell you that?”
Abby shook her head. She suddenly realized she didn’t know much about Anders at all, like when his birthday was or what he liked to eat for dinner.
“Yeah, he was. We traveled all the time when we were over there. It was awesome.” He slipped the halter over the horse’s head, then gently pried open his mouth. Ruckus struggled, but finally allowed the bit to be inserted. Matt looked at Abby. “Okay, you ready to get up? Like I said, Ruckus is real easy. Nothing to be afraid of.”
Abby wondered if he was saying that to try to convince her, or if he was trying to convince himself.
“I’m ready,” she told him, though she didn’t know if she was ready or not. When Matt boosted her up into the saddle, she settled into it and closed her eyes. She felt a little dizzy. “How many hands is Ruckus?” she asked, eyes still closed, not sure if she wanted to know the answer.
“Fifteen,” Matt told her. “Pretty tall. Okay, I’m going to lead you guys out now. Hold on.”
Abby held the reins in one hand and clung to the saddle horn with her other hand. Ruckus moved easily beneath her, his feet clopping against the wood floor. She supposed that compared to Matt, she seemed light to Ruckus. She straightened up and opened her eyes. Suddenly she had the strangest feeling, like maybe, for once, she was the right size.
“I’ll lead you as long as you want me to,” Matt said, taking the reins from Abby, “and then if you want to ride a little by yourself, you can. Just use the reins to let Ruckus know what direction you want to go in, and give him a little kick if you want him to go faster. You can just walk, though. You don’t have to go any faster than this.”
Abby sat up straight in the saddle and looked around her. Which made her want to lie down. She was up too high! The ground was miles beneath her, and if she fell, she’d break into a million pieces.
But you’re not falling, she told herself, and she realized it was true. She wasn’t even slipping. She gripped her knees tighter into Ruckus’s sides, hoping she wasn’t hurting him. But the horse clopped along, not seeming to give Abby a second thought.
I’m not falling, Abby thought gleefully. I’m riding!
Matt walked them into the field, turning around from time to time to look at Abby and smile. “You’re doing great,” he told her. “A natural.”
Abby didn’t feel like a natural exactly, but she didn’t feel unnatural, either. She didn’t feel like crying or throwing up or begging Matt to get her down. She felt—okay. Tall. She sat with this okay, tall feeling for a few minutes until she decided she wanted to feel something even bigger. “I guess I’d like to try to ride him by myself.” Her voice sounded shaky. She tried again. “I’d like to ride him by myself.”
Matt nodded slowly. “Uh, yeah, okay. You sure?”
Abby nodded, and Matt handed her back the reins. “I’ll just stay here in case you need me. Take as long as you want.”
Abby tapped Ruckus gently on his side with her heel. He started off again in his slow-gaited walk. Abby took a deep breath and tapped his side again. She wanted more—not too much more, but more—and when Ruckus quickened into a trot, her stomach lifted toward her chest, the way it did when she swung high on the playground swings. It’s like flying, she thought happily, though she knew they weren’t even galloping. Who cared? You didn’t have to go a hundred miles an hour in order to fly.
The helium feeling filled her up again as she and Ruckus trotted across the field, the October sun getting low in the sky. Abby threw her head back and laughed. She could do this forever. She never wanted to get off. She rode and rode and had no idea how long she’d been riding.
It was the thought of Matt standing alone in the field that made her turn back. When she reached him, he was crying. Abby’s heart started beating hard. How could he be crying? Everything had been fine! He had been fine! What had happened while she was gone? Did he think Ruckus had run off with her? Had thrown her?
“I’m okay!” Abby cried in a panicky voice. “I’m really okay! Everything’s okay. Ruckus was steady, just like you said.”
Matt shook his head, wiping his wet face with the back of his arm. “I know you’re okay. Why wouldn’t you be? You have everything ahead of you. Everything’s new. And you think the world is beautiful.”
“It is beautiful,” Abby said, trying to sound calm even though her hands were shaking and she couldn’t get her thoughts straight enough to figure out what she should do next. Did she need to call 911? Simmer down, she told herself. Try to help. To Matt, she said, “Look at Ruckus. He’s beautiful, isn’t he?”
Matt looked at Ruckus for a long time. “Yes,” he said finally. “He really is.”
Abby held out her hand to him. He reached up and took it.
“We could go inside and work on your poem until everyone gets back,” Abby said, feeling better now that she had hold of him. “If you wanted to.”
“Okay,” he said, and to Abby he sounded like a little kid. She handed him the reins.
“He’s real steady, just like you said,” Abby repeated. “He’s good. All you have to do is hold on.”
Matt nodded. “I know.”
They began walking toward the stable. “Do you know about George Shannon?” Abby asked, and when Matt shook his head, she said, “It’s a really good story. You want to hear it?”
“Do I have a choice?” Matt asked with a laugh. He sounded better to Abby, more like a grownup again.
“You don’t,” Abby told him. “So listen up.”
where’ve you been?” her mom called when Abby walked inside the house. “Dinner’s almost ready.”
“Just walking around the creek,” Abby told her, coming into the kitchen, which smelled like onions and paprika.
“Could you stir the sauce for me?” Her mother was working on her laptop at the kitchen counter. “What creek, honey? I didn’t know there was a creek around here.”
“It’s a couple streets over,” Abby said, picking up the wooden spoon that was on the stove. She stirred the liquid bubbling in the dutch oven. “It’s not a very big creek, but it has some nice rocks.”
Abby’s mother looked up from the computer. “I didn’t know you were interested in nature, honey. That’s nice. And I have something nice to tell you.”
Abby put down the spoon and took a seat at the kitchen table. Her mother’s idea of nice and hers weren’t always the same. She braced herself.
“Kristen has invited you to a sleepover at her house on Friday!” her mom announced, as though she were telling Abby she’d won the lottery. “You haven’t slept over at Kristen’s since last summer. And the other girls will be there too. Kristen was so excited when I told her you could come.”
No way. No honking way. She’d wake up in the middle of the night with her sleeping bag filled with grasshoppers or ants, maybe both. They’d stick her finger in water while she was asleep to make her pee. Kristen would decide to do one of her famous “personality makeovers” and choose Abby as her victim, reciting a long list of Abby’s faults and ways she could improve. Nope, Abby wasn’t going.
But if she told her mom that, all the joy would drain out of her face. Her mom wanted so badly for everyone to be happy, for everything to work out. Maybe when your sister dies when you’re nine, you spend the rest of your life trying to make sure nothing else bad happens, that no one’s ever unhappy again. But that’s impossible, Abby thought. And unfair.
It wasn’t fair that Abby had to pretend things were nice all the time.
So she said it. Said, “I don’t want to spend the night at Kristen’s. The only reason I’m invited is so they can all gang up on me. They hate me.”
“Of course they don’t hate you!” her mom exclaimed. “How can you even think such a thing?” She walked over to the stove to stir the pot, then turned back to Abby. “Honey, I’m so sorry you feel this way, but it’s simply not true.”
Abby took a deep breath. “Listen to me, Mom. It is
true.”
Suddenly her mom looked angry. “Stop it! I know you miss Claudia, I know it’s hard when your best friend moves. But you have to make new friends, Abby. And here are these girls who seem like they’re trying very hard to be friends with you. So why are you turning away? You need friends. Everybody needs friends. So whether you want to or not, you’re going to this sleepover. You’re going to make an effort to be nice.”
Abby didn’t know what to say. What do you do when you tell the truth and nobody believes you?
“I’m not going,” she said after a few moments. “I’m really not.”
Abby’s mom sighed. “Do we need to talk to your father about this?”
Abby slumped in her chair. She knew her father would make her go. And while he was at it, he’d look her up and down and say something like, “You need more friends. You need to be outside, running around. That’s how you lose weight.”
“No,” Abby replied glumly. “I guess not.”
“You’ll have a wonderful time, Abby!” Just like that, her mom sounded like her old cheerful self again. Everything was happy, everyone was at peace. That was all that mattered.
Abby pushed back her chair and stomped out of the kitchen. She stomped up the stairs as loud as she could, each stomp announcing how mad she was, how irritated, how misunderstood. In her room, she flung herself on her bed and glared at Perd. “If I have to go, you’re coming with me,” she warned him.
Perd looked back at her, clearly dismayed.
Abby rolled over and reached to the floor beside her bed, where her copy of Undaunted Courage was lying open, facedown. Ha! Her mom hated when Abby mistreated books. “You’ll crack the spine,” she was always complaining.
“You’ll crack the spine,” Abby hissed in a falsetto voice as she picked the book up. “You’ll crack the spine.”
The Second Life of Abigail Walker Page 10
