The shrink gives me that smile again. “Okay. We’re done for today. I agreed to start by meeting with you and your grandmother together, briefly. Next time we’ll talk longer, and it’ll just be you and me.” She stands. “Now, Shawna, go on home. It’s a nice place to think over what we’ve talked about today, right?”
What just happened here? Did she just trap me? Did she make me say what she wanted me to say?
She has that look—the one a card counter at the blackjack table gets when he knows what the dealer’s about to lay down.
I can’t meet her eyes her right now.
Chapter 35
Kay
“Shawna, I don’t want to hear anymore!” Kay’s head had been pounding since she’d left for the appointment with the therapist. During the session, she’d felt a vise tighten around her skull, and the fight with Shawna on the way home only made the pain worse. She gripped the wheel tight and willed herself not to throw up. She’d never had a migraine in her life, but she’d never had a possibly suicidal granddaughter before either.
Being jostled by the truck wasn’t helping. She rubbed her eyes and decided she might have to consider buying one that actually had springs and didn’t look like it had been through a demolition derby.
She turned off the main road onto what she referred to as her arroyo seco—her dry brook. More like a bucking bronco ride to hell.
“Oh, no!” The lights in the barn might as well have been a shrieking emergency alarm. The truck bounced down the road and up to the front of the house. She jumped out almost before the truck stopped moving, leaving the door sagging open on its hinges. She kicked off her heels and sprinted barefoot toward the barn.
When she reached the gray’s stall, she entered a nightmare—a tableau of Kenny, the vet, and her beauty, her sleeping beauty. But no prince could wake her gray.
The men didn’t speak as she knelt at the gray’s side and stroked her neck. Come back, she thought. She looked at the gray’s chest and hoped, praying to see some movement. Nothing.
Kay felt the same crushing pressure on her chest as that day years ago when she’d opened the door to that uniformed man who had told her Nicholas was gone. Forever never had such meaning as it had that night—and as it had right now.
“… all we could... hurting... suffer.” The vet was telling her something, but she couldn’t absorb his words.
“When?” she asked.
“Fifteen minutes ago,” the vet said.
The barn went quiet. She felt Kenny’s arms around her, lifting her to her feet, guiding her toward the door, past Shawna, who looked small and anxious. She’s so young, Kay thought, and now she’s not that smart-mouth I deal with in the shops or in the truck.
Kay glimpsed the deep fear in Shawna’s eyes, in the way she crouched, pulling her knees to her chest and pressed against the rough barn wood. How can I reach someone so walled up inside? I couldn’t reach Nicholas, either. Maybe I didn’t try hard enough at the time. Maybe I didn’t do the right kind of trying. I wish I could reach this girl.
Kenny was holding the kitchen door open for her. “I’ve got whisky in the trailer. I’ll go get it.”
Kay nodded blindly and went up the steps. The only way she’d get through tonight would be to let Kenny Fargo take over. She’d let him put the bit between her teeth, and go in any direction he thought best. He’d saved her once before. Oh, God, he had to save her again.
Kay knew she had to survive long enough to do something right to rescue that child, the troubled girl huddling in the barn. Her son’s only daughter, his only child. She was the last of Nicholas. What was left of her family.
When Kenny returned and handed her a half-filled tumbler, she readily took a large sip. The whiskey-burn down the length of her throat felt good, it made her feel alive. For a short time there was something besides an aching emptiness inside her body.
Shawna stole through the kitchen, her eyes down. Kay let her go without a word. She didn’t know what to say after today’s session at the therapist’s, after the shouting match in the truck, after... the gray.
“I’m borrowing Floyd’s backhoe in the morning,” Kenny said, setting his glass down. “This one’s not leaving the ranch. That okay by you?”
Kay nodded.
“You got any place special in mind for her?”
She didn’t have to think before she answered. “Along the back trail, just before the rise. There’s a boulder on the north side. I’d like her head toward that boulder.”
Kenny drained his glass. “You come out around noon. Then we’ll say a few words.”
He walked to the door.
“Kenny.” Kay wanted him to stay, but when he turned at the sound of her voice, she knew he had to go. It was time for him to grieve, and he did that best alone. “Thank you.”
He said nothing as he closed the door behind him.
Kay turned off the lights and walked toward her bedroom. She felt so tired. Yet she knew sleep wouldn’t come to set her mind free or let her rest. She was about to close her door, then changed her mind and walked down the hall to Shawna’s room.
“Shawna?” she called softly.
Although Shawna didn’t answer, Kay heard her move.
“May I come in?”
A drawer slid closed and Kay heard the rustle of sheets.
“Yes,” Shawna said. Her voice didn’t sound sleepy; it sounded more like she was out of breath.
Kay had a lot to say to the girl sitting up in the darkened room, with the moonlight from the window etching her shadow against the wall. But Kay’s words sounded paltry, and Shawna’s look told her she wasn’t getting her message across.
Kay wanted Shawna to know that it wasn’t her fault the gray died today without having her person with her. It wasn’t anyone’s fault.
I’ve lost this girl, Kay thought as she pressed her fingers against her eyelids. Will I lose veryone I love before I die?
Chapter 36
Shawna
After I finish screaming at Kay in the truck, I don’t have anything else to say on the ride home from Sacramento. And neither does Kay. Normal silence, right? But as we bump down the long road to the house, I see something that isn’t normal.
The barn is flooded with lights. I spot the vet’s SUV about the same time the truck screeches to a halt. Kay’s out from behind the wheel before I even touch my door handle.
She runs kicking off her high heels, her hair flying behind her, the clasp lost. She’s inside the barn before I can get out of the truck. It’s been a freaking long day. I’ve been thinking hot bath and bed. Now I’m thinking it’ll be a freaking long night.
I edge uneasily toward the stall, where I hear Kenny and the vet.
It’s the gray. Her tail stretched out long and quiet behind her. I’ve seen her at the gallop, that tail streaming in the wind. I know she put a high arc in it, showing off her Arabian side. But now the arc is gone, and along with it, the gray.
Kay sits next to her, her hand on the great strong neck. It always rubbed Kay’s shoulder from behind, whenever it wanted her touch.
My grandmother is silent, but her body sways. And I hear her, like I’ve heard others from dark alleys. People hidden in shadows. People crying in pain.
I lean back against the rough planks and slide down onto the straw. I’ve come to know straw, the way it feels on the end of a pitchfork, the smell of it green and dry, and right now, I crave its prickle on my legs. That will make things feel normal inside the barn tonight. It’ll give me something to hate, something to fill up the space inside, that’s dark and on the edge of shaky.
“Kay.” It’s the vet talking to her. “We did all we could for her. But she was hurting too much. We knew you wouldn’t want her to suffer.”
“When?” Kay’s voice is low and flat.
“Fifteen minutes ago. I’m truly sorry. We didn’t know when you’d be back.” In a while, the vet walks past me. The engine starts and the van drives off.
Fifte
en minutes ago the gray was alive, waiting for Kay to come to her. Fifteen minutes ago, I was mouthing off about the shrink and the waste of my time. Fifteen minutes ago the world was different.
I look at Kay. She’s as still as her mare, only I know her heart is beating and the mare’s is not, and the difference in their stillness is bigger than anything I know. I put my hand where my heart used to be. Blump, blump. It’s a lonely sound.
“Come on, old girl. I’ll take care of the rest.” Kenny pulls Kay to her feet and holds her like something precious. “You go on inside.” He steers her past me.
I’m alone with the dead gray horse. I push myself up and go to sit by her.
Hey! This is just a horse, Shawna! I shout in my mind. What’s the big deal?
Fifteen minutes. That’s the big deal. Who ever thought one quarter of an hour could make so much difference in the world?
I’ve never touched anything dead before. But it’s not scary. I stroke the Arabian queen’s long neck, but I’m having a problem seeing because my eyes are washing out with tears. I never expected to cry over a dead horse. I never expected a lot of things.
I walk into the house and through the kitchen, where Kay and Kenny sit at the kitchen table, sipping dark whiskey. The only sounds are my feet crossing the linoleum. I’m working on not showing them my wet eyes. Besides, I’m not ready to talk to Kay, and for sure, she’s not ready to talk to me. Vegas was hard, but it was easier than this. I never cried in Vegas.
The bed is wide and I stretch my length across its middle, letting my legs dangle over the side. I stare at the ceiling and I listen to the night sounds coming on. Tonight the coyotes aren’t talking. Owls take over the dark air. I never heard an owl before I came to Kay’s, and its lonely question is always a surprise. It’s my question. How in the hell can a stupid thing with feathers and big eyes ask a question, anyway? Maybe owls aren’t stupid. Maybe I’m the stupid thing without feathers that asks bird questions.
Who? Who? Who?
Who in the hell am I?
Tonight is real different. Kay doesn’t do her kitchen-cooking-on-the-table-dinner-at-seven routine. I’m on the bed listening to owls! Kenny? He’s doing something about the gray, and I don’t want to know. I only know I’m feeling maggots in my stomach.
Fifteen minutes.
Fifteen lousy minutes.
And here he comes, even before the shakes start. My snaggle-toothed critter. Crawling from the end of the bed.
“Go away! I don’t want you here tonight.”
“But you do. Tonight you really need me.”
I look at his greedy eyes. He knows I’m down. He knows. And I do, too.
I take the razor blade out and begin to unwrap it. Take it slow. Don’t rush. Maybe he’ll slink away if I don’t hurry. Unfold. Unfold. The thin, icy metal slides onto my palm. It weighs nothing, but my hand grows tired from holding it.
“Shawna. Come on, Sweetie. Nice and deep, Monster coos.”
I’m surprised at the blood this time. It’s more than usual. It’s a lot, actually. I grab the sheet and press hard against my ankle.
“Shawna?”
It’s Kay’s voice at the door. Monster skulks away. He’s pissed. Too bad.
“May I come in?”
What the hell, it’s her house. Why does she always ask if she can come in? I sit up and tuck the razor blade into the drawer and pull the sheet sideways so she can’t see what I’ve done. “Yes.”
The door swings in. She’s still in the meet-the-shrink-suit, but her hair fans across her shoulders and she’s in bare feet.
“I’m sorry,” Kay says.
My eyebrows shoot to heaven. I stop myself from saying, huh?
“You can’t blame yourself any more than I can.” She walks in and sits on the edge of the bed. “She was a good horse and she had someone to love her, her whole life.”
She takes a moment to press her fingers against her eyes, then she looks up. “That’s more than a lot of people get, right Shawna?”
I nod. I’m totally not understanding any of this. Why isn’t she like, pounding on my head and telling me what a creep I am for being here, for messing up her perfect life, for dragging her off to some shrink, when she should have been with her gray?
It’s good I’m going back to Vegas. There I know where I stand.
Chapter 37
Shawna
It’s Saturday afternoon, and my crowded social calendar shows I’ve got one major event to look forward to—Marta’s sleepover. I’m wearing socks all the time since Wednesday night. My ankle hurts, and once in a while if I catch it right, it bleeds.
Damn Monster.
I soaked the sheets and did a load of laundry while Kay was out with Kenny that next day. She asked me to go along and I wanted to, but the sheets....
“What time do you have to be at Marta’s?” Kay’s coming from the barn and I’m passing her on my way to see Magic, since I won’t be here tomorrow.
“Seven,” I say.
“Floyd’s in the hospital. He had a fall, Kenny tells me. Give his horses some oats and check their water, will you?”
So old Floyd dropped off his perch. Magic should feel pretty happy about that.
Magic comes from across the field and rubs his head against my shoulder.
“You act more like Buster sometimes than you do a horse, you know that? Here.” I hold out his apple and the vitamins.
In only a couple of months, Magic looks like some other horse. I’m thinking how I can get him to Vegas, maybe board him someplace.
Yeah, Shawna, you got so much money for that. The savings from my twenty-dollar-a-week salary has grown to about a hundred, but I know what boarding fees are here, and in Vegas they gotta be a ton more.
“I’ll fit you into Tuan’s dump. How does that sound?” I can’t imagine him or me anywhere near that place. Seems funny that Las Vegas isn’t a fit anymore. Fit or no fit, I’m going. Don’t have anyplace else to go.
Magic tosses his head.
“Yeah, I gotta call the old lady tomorrow. Gotta make plans for my return to the nest.” I climb onto the fence. “Wanna go out on the trail?’
Magic sidles up and I climb onto his bare back. “Now don’t go crazy on me, okay? I’m still new at this horse riding business.”
Magic starts at a slow walk across the field. I unlatch the gate and he pushes it open, then he waits for me to kick it closed before heading down the road that borders Floyd’s shack. He cuts across the pasture in front and winds down the path that leads to the trail beyond Kay’s barn. At the bottom of the rise, he stops. The large mound of fresh earth marks the grave for Kay’s horse, the boulder is her headstone.
I lean forward over Magic and lay my head against his sleek, black neck.
She was a good horse.
“Are you talking to me again?”
Seems you need to hear something.
And what do I need to hear from a horse?
Same as you need to hear from inside your heart.
“Let’s ride, okay? I got a lot of thinking to do.”
He climbs the rise and follows the trail to the creek.
“Tonight I gotta go to something called a sleepover with a bunch of loonies and a troll. What was I thinking when I said yes?”
That you were lonely.
“Say what?”
Come on, Shawna, face it. You come to me to talk, but you need some of your own kind to hang with. I know.
“Why don’t you just walk and leave the talking to me, okay?”
I’ve known a lot of your kind, but you are one untrusting human, I can tell you that.
We circle back to the property and then to Floyd’s. I give the horses a double ration of grass hay and fresh water.
“Bye, Magic.” I rub his forehead.
Go to your sleepover. And for a change, stop being such a grump and pushing everybody away.
He lowers his head so I can reach behind his ears.
While you’re there,
you might see if you can smile a few times too, okay?
“Mind your own business!”
I am.
This is way too nuts, this talking to Magic, but as I’m walking back to Kay’s, I think about all he’s said, or would have said if he really could. Maybe I am a little lonely. I’m not as busy as I used to be in Las Vegas. I’ll drop that lonely crap once I’m back there, taking care of Mom again. I’ll be too tired to be lonely.
When we drive up to Marta’s, the house looks like it’s open for a sale or something. All the lights are on inside, and the driveway has two cars and a truck lined up to the street. That truck! It’s Casey’s. Is he coming to the sleepover, too? I glance at Kay.
“I see Casey’s here,” she says. “Guess the rumors are true.”
“Rumors?” I say before I catch myself.
“He’s seeing one of the Dumont girls.”
The Dumont girl? Who the hell is the Dumont girl? And why don’t I know this rumor? Why didn’t Marta say something while we were talking the other day? Why does it matter, anyway? Right. It doesn’t.
“Are you getting out?” Kay asks.
I shrug.
“Shawna?”
“If I don’t want to stay . . .” I can’t believe I’m saying this.
“Call me. I’ll pick you up,” Kay says before I can take it back. “But I think you’ll have a great time. Marta’s mom, Jenny Kilpatrick, and I are old friends. She’s a very nice person.”
Kay stares at the house and disconnects from me, like she’s suddenly gone somewhere else.
“Well?” she asks focusing on me again.
“Okay.” Do a thing that scares you right away and look like you know what you’re doing. It works when you lift stuff off a shelf. It works when you get on Magic. It’ll work now. I push open the truck door and step down with my sleeping bag under my arm. I look at Kay for a moment.
“Call me if you need to, but go in thinking that you won’t.”
She sounds like Magic. I know she’s part horse. I close the door and walk toward the house fast, like I actually want to get there. Behind me I hear Kay’s truck pull out, and I think about turning and running after her. No. You will not turn and run. You never turn and run—unless the cops are after you.
Sliding On The Edge Page 13
