Blaze of Glory

by M. Garzon

  “No, thanks,” I replied.

  “Are you a vegetarian?” It sounded like he was accusing me of a crime.

  I peered over at Dec. “Not yet.”

  Uncle Peter laughed. “I’m glad to hear you’re not letting her get away with that, Dec.”

  Dec had told me I was free to be a vegetarian as soon as I did my own shopping and cooking. And since about the only thing I hated more than grocery shopping was cooking, for the moment I ate meat. I did try to minimize my consumption, though, and since this meal offered me the option, I left out the flesh.

  “Why would you want to be a vegetarian?” Uncle Peter went on.

  I sighed. The rest of my family had heard this all before, and Dec would not consider it appropriate dinner table conversation.

  “It’s a personal decision.”

  “Meaning that you can’t explain it?” Uncle Peter insisted.

  “No, I can probably explain a lot more than you’d care to hear. But I have no interest in converting anyone; I think it’s fine for anyone who wants to eat meat to do so. I just don’t want to, myself.”

  “But why?”

  “Because I love animals. Hence, I don’t want to kill and eat them.”

  Uncle Peter snorted. “That’s ridiculous,” he scoffed.

  “Dad,” Jaden objected, frowning at him.

  “Really, Jaden, would you buy that argument?”

  “Just because it wouldn’t be sufficient to convert me to vegetarianism doesn’t mean it isn’t a perfectly valid reason for Téa,” Jaden argued.

  “So that’s it?” Uncle Peter challenged, looking at me.

  I tried another, slightly longer explanation.

  “Many famous people throughout history, from Socrates to Albert Einstein, have advocated a vegetarian diet, and they’re all a lot smarter than me. There are social, environmental, ethical and health arguments supporting a vegetarian diet,” I said carefully, aware of Dec’s eyes on me.

  “If there are so many arguments for it, why can’t you give me even one?” Uncle Peter’s tone was mocking, his eyes challenging. I felt my chin come up.

  “You’re eating meat purely for the hedonistic and temporary satisfaction of your taste buds. What’s your argument for that?” I snapped at him.

  Uncle Peter’s eyes widened in surprise for an instant. Then he frowned at me.

  “I don’t have to justify my dietary choices to you,” he spat.

  “Then neither do I.”

  “It’s not the same,” he argued, “I have tradition and culture on my side.”

  “In some cultures, people of color are considered inferior. In others, women are expected to be submissive and stay at home. That was even the case here, not so long ago — culture is a fluid and evolving thing. And just because something’s culturally accepted doesn’t make it ethical. We used to think that boiling someone in oil was cool.”

  Uncle Peter opened his mouth, but Aunt Penny spoke first. “Peter, can we please talk about something else? I’m trying to enjoy my turkey here.”

  “Sorry, Aunt Penny,” I told her, abashed.

  “Don’t worry, Téa, it’s not your fault.” She smiled. I was glad she wasn’t upset, I often felt that Aunt Penny disapproved of me. I was too unruly, too much of a tomboy for her taste. I didn’t say another word during the entire meal, just to be safe.

  * * *

  Later, I was sitting on the basement stairs watching Seth set up Stacey’s new game system.

  “Hi, rabble-rouser.” Jaden settled onto the step next to me.

  “Hey.”

  “Are you always so outspoken?” he asked.

  “Sadly, yes. I’m always getting into trouble because I can’t keep my mouth shut.”

  “I thought you got into trouble because you don’t listen?”

  “Yeah, that too.” I grinned at him.

  “Well, now that you don’t have to censor, will you tell me what you really think?”

  I hesitated for a minute, but he looked genuinely interested, so I tried to verbalize the uneasy feelings I sometimes had, a suspicion that I didn’t differentiate well enough between humans and other species.

  “All I’m saying is, I prefer the company of animals to that of some people,” I tried to sum up. Too late, I realized how that might sound and added, awkwardly, “Um, present company excepted, of course.”

  He chuckled. “Thanks. Although,” his face grew grave, “I wouldn’t be surprised if you lumped me in with the other group.”

  He shifted toward me and looked into my eyes. I felt a slight lurch in the region of my stomach as I was reminded of how mesmerizing his gaze could be.

  “Look, Téa, I haven’t had the chance to apologize for what I did in September,” he said in a low voice. He didn’t mention that I hadn’t given him the chance since I’d been rudely avoiding him these past three months, and I thought that was generous of him.

  “That’s okay,” I mumbled.

  “No, it isn’t. I would never have said anything if I’d known how harshly you’d be punished. I’m very sorry. Please forgive me.” His warm voice was utterly sincere; his eyes, which never left mine, were repentant. I couldn’t even blink, I just gawked at him like an idiot. I’d never received such a heartfelt apology in my life, and I couldn’t imagine anyone being able to resist forgiving him — he probably got away with a lot.

  We played video games for the rest of the evening, Seth and me against Stacey and Jaden. Seth and I were totally destroyed, mostly due to my complete lack of gaming skill, but it was still fun.

  Later, I was standing back from the crush at the front door while everyone was leaving. Jaden was making the rounds, saying goodbye. When he got to me his face was serious.

  “I’m glad you forgave me,” he said quietly.

  I smiled at him. “Me too. Imagine missing the opportunity to get my butt kicked at Super Mario for two hours.”

  He grinned, then ducked his head quickly and kissed my cheek; I smelled the same enticing scent I’d noticed the first time he came for dinner. There must have been a draft from the door, because as he turned away I shivered, and noticed I was covered in goosebumps.

  Four

  Even though January hadn’t brought any relief from the cold, I was still excited about the first horse show of the year. No one else from our barn was going, so Karen said she’d pick me up with her two-horse trailer. She was bringing a client’s horse to ride.

  I had a good schooling session with Blaze the day before the show. He was in excellent spirits as he bounded over the fences I’d set up, and I felt mine soar correspondingly. That night I groomed him carefully and picked out his stall so he wouldn’t get dirty overnight.

  “This is going to be our year, Blaze,” I reminded him with a hug when I was done. “This is the year we really get noticed. Let’s start if off right tomorrow.”

  But the next day didn’t start off right at all. Somehow I had set my alarm wrong, for six p.m. instead of a.m. I awoke to pounding on the door downstairs; I leaped up and staggered down the steps half-asleep, twisting an ankle as I went. It was Karen, naturally.

  “Why aren’t you ready? Dante’s in the first class,” she said impatiently. “Get dressed, I’ll feed Blaze.”

  I ran upstairs and threw on my clothes, then rushed to the barn, hobbling a bit on my twisted ankle and still muddled from sleep. I wrapped Blaze’s legs with shipping bandages while he ate. The sound of grinding grain was making me hungry.

  “Man, I am beat.” Karen yawned as she helped me put on Blaze’s blanket. He was so good-natured, I thought with a doting smile. Some horses would have hated to be rushed through their breakfast, but he took it in stride, perking his ears up with interest as he stepped into the trailer next to a large chestnut horse. I examined Karen as I came out. She did look tired, she was pale and had purple circles under her eyes.

  “I think I’m coming down with something,” she continued as she tried to stifle another yawn.

  “W
hy don’t you let me drive?” I suggested. “That way you can have a nap.”

  She looked at me narrowly. “Are you legal to drive a trailer on the highway yet?” she demanded.

  “Um, not technically. I only have my learner’s permit, but we’re not going far. It’s not like I can’t manage it.”

  Karen looked torn.

  “It’s six-thirty in the morning, Karen. The roads will be practically deserted,” I encouraged her.

  “Oh, all right. Just make sure you drive slowly, then.”

  We climbed into the big gold pickup. Karen laughed as she helped me adjust the seat so that I could reach the pedals, but once we got underway she was asleep within minutes. I debated going through a drive-through to get some coffee, but I was worried about maneuvering the truck and trailer through it, so I decided to skip it. I yawned as I merged cautiously onto highway 403.

  We only had to go a few exits, and I felt a mild sense of relief when I pulled off the highway. The lights at the off-ramp were green, and I was thinking of my upcoming jumper class as we glided slowly through the intersection. And then my world ended.

  Sharp, stabbing pains woke me. The first thing I noticed was the taste of blood in my mouth; I was surprised at the effort it took to swallow. My eyelids fluttered open to an unfamiliar view. I tried to move and found I couldn’t, but the effort sent more stabbing pains through me and I groaned weakly. I wasn’t exactly conscious of where the pains were located, other than my head. The pain in my head was very clear.

  “Don’t try to move,” a male voice said. He sounded bored. “You’re in an ambulance and we’re taking you to a hospital.”

  “No, wait — my horse! What about Blaze? And Karen?” My voice sounded feeble even to my own ears.

  “I’m sorry, I can’t tell you much about that. Your friend stayed at the accident site, she’s not badly injured.”

  A confused memory was starting to emerge: a sudden loud roar to my left, followed by a vicious wrenching motion. There was nothing after that, only blackness. I could feel panic ballooning inside me — I had to know how Blaze was. But I started to turn my head, and the blackness rose up and claimed me again.

  The next time my eyes opened I stayed conscious longer. Not that I wanted to, after the first minute. I looked around blearily; a dull throbbing started in my head as soon as I turned it.

  “Hey,” Seth murmured. He was sitting on the edge of my bed and looked as though he’d been crying.

  “Is she awake?” Dec walked to the other side of the bed, frowning in concern.

  “What happened?” I croaked. I cleared my throat, sending shooting pains through my forehead and ribcage. I noticed an IV tube running into the back of my right hand. The left one felt weird and when I lifted it I saw a splint on my ring finger. Damn, that was the finger that held the reins.

  Dec put his hand on my arm gingerly.

  “How do you feel?” he asked. I noticed he hadn’t answered my question.

  “I’ve been better... what happened?” I asked again. “How’s Blaze? And Karen and the other horse?”

  Dec didn’t answer right away. He swallowed hard, then met Seth’s eyes across my bed. Seth turned his head away quickly so I couldn’t see his face. All of a sudden I couldn’t breathe, my heart felt like it was staggering to a halt. Something was very, very wrong.

  “Tell me,” I whispered. “Tell me what happened.”

  Dec looked back at me, his face haggard. My heart went from stumbling to sprinting.

  “There was an accident. A truck — an eighteen-wheeler — crashed into you. The driver was asleep, he went through a red light,” he said quietly. He paused, while the pain in my chest grew more and more unbearable. Suddenly I didn’t want him to go on, I knew what he was going to say.

  “No.” It wasn’t even a whisper. I shook my head, ignoring the pain. My brain was already trying to shut down. “No...”

  Seth turned then. He hugged me, hard, but I couldn’t move. Over Seth’s shoulder, I met Dec’s eyes. He tightened his grip on my arm.

  “Karen is okay. The other horse will likely recover. But Blaze was on the wrong side, the truck ran directly into his side of the trailer. I’m sorry, honey, but he’s gone.”

  I had to move, to run, as if escaping from those horrendous, impossible words would mean escape from the truth. I struggled to get up, ripping the IV out of my hand and sending lancing pains through my body. Seth tightened his hold, and Dec pushed my shoulder down, both of them murmuring words of comfort I didn’t hear. I struggled for another minute, welcoming the pain and praying for unconsciousness, but now that I desperately wanted it, it wouldn’t come. I lay back and screwed my eyelids shut tight. At that moment, I never wanted to see daylight again.

  Five

  I was always in pain. At some point every day I would suddenly feel as though someone had sunk a cleaver into my head. The pain tended to radiate out from my forehead, over my left eye; I guessed that was the spot that had spidered the glass and given me my concussion. It was so intense at first that, whatever I was doing, I would just sink to the ground and press my forehead into my hands, trying to hold my skull together.

  My broken finger and ribs didn’t bother me as much, they were just nagging background pains, except at night when the ribs kept me from sleeping. When I wasn’t already awake from the nightmares, that is.

  But worse by far than any of those was the constant raw wound in my gut. I felt as though a sharp-clawed, razor-toothed animal had tried to rip its way out of me. I couldn’t eat; not only was I completely lacking in appetite, but whenever I did manage to get a morsel down, stabbing pains in my stomach immediately made me sorry I’d tried. It was so bad that I worried they’d missed something at the hospital, though I didn’t say anything. After a week of watching me sit around holding my stomach, though, Dec dragged me back there. The doctor palpated and ran tests — nothing was wrong. Except for the fact that I felt lacerated inside.

  I refused to talk about Blaze. In fact, I barely spoke at all. I was allowed home after two days in the hospital, and Dec let me stay home for another week before suggesting I try going to school. I shrugged. I really didn’t want to face anyone, but I knew Dec wouldn’t let me stay home forever.

  I dutifully went to school the next day. Seth hovered solicitously most of the time but we didn’t have all our classes together, and in any case, he couldn’t prevent people from talking to me entirely. So I did my best to avoid eye contact, slinking around with my shoulders hunched and answering in monosyllables if I was cornered. I was grateful for Teri’s presence. She was also suffering over Blaze’s death, and I could feel her unspoken support whenever she was near. When I got home that night I was exhausted. It was Wednesday, which meant that I had a lesson to teach, but I didn’t feel up to it. I asked Seth to cancel it and collapsed into bed.

  I woke up screaming. Seth burst through the door seconds later; he rushed over and put his arms around me.

  “It’s okay, it’s okay. Shh.”

  I cried into his T-shirt for a few minutes before managing to get myself back under control. The only times I cried were after waking from nightmares. This wasn’t the first time Seth had run into my room in the middle of the night. Dec had come in too, the first two or three times, but he seemed at a loss for what to say. After that, he’d let Seth handle it. I was a bit surprised that Seth woke up to my screams, because he usually slept like the dead, but then maybe he wasn’t sleeping soundly these days either. It reminded me piercingly of the time after our mother had died. That was the last time I’d cried in anyone’s arms, and Seth had been the one to hold me then, too. Only then we’d cried on each other.

  I pulled away from him and wiped my tears on my sleeve. His fair hair was disheveled, and he was in pajama pants.

  “Sorry I woke you.”

  “Don’t be dumb, Sis. I’m here for you.” There was a furrow between his brows, and his eyes, which looked almost black in the dim light, were troubled.
/>   “I think I’m going to stay home tomorrow. School’s still too tiring for me,” I muttered.

  “Good idea, give yourself time. I’ll tell Dec in the morning if you want.”

  I accepted his offer gratefully; the more time I could spend hiding out in my room, the better. Unfortunately, Dec had other ideas about my hiding out. He let me stay home Thursday and Friday, but made it clear that starting Monday I’d have to go back, and keep going. Gran agreed with him.

  “It’s not healthy, dear. Your injuries are healing. If you’re to get past this, you need to return to your normal routine, your normal life,” she told me one afternoon when I’d ventured to the kitchen for a drink.

  I looked at her incredulously. Normal life? Life would never be ‘normal’ for me again. Not that my life had been that normal to begin with.

  “I know it’s terribly difficult, dear, but really — your friends call, and you won’t speak with them. Your students arrive and you don’t teach them. And you’re going to fall too far behind in school.” She came over and put her arm around me. I tried not to cringe. I didn’t like anyone touching me these days.

  * * *

  Karen showed up the next morning to teach our usual Saturday morning lesson. I forced myself to go outside, more to get away from Dec’s worried glances than to see anyone. It was a bright, sunny day, not too frigid for late January, and my boots crunched in the snow as I made my way slowly to the barn. This was the first time I was venturing in there since the accident, two weeks before. I wasn’t sure whether anyone realized that. Normally I almost lived in the barn, I don’t think it had occurred to anyone that I was avoiding it. But I had been. I didn’t want to see Blaze’s empty stall, the physical symbol of the immense emptiness left in my heart, and in my life.

  I stepped slowly into the familiar, horsey-smelling warmth. The sounds of chewing, rustling, and snorting were the same as ever, the most homey sound I could imagine. The glow of the polished wooden surfaces welcomed me, and it wasn’t until I relaxed that I realized how tensely coiled my posture had been. I followed the sound of voices into the main boarder aisle.