Remembering August (Triple C Ranch Saga)

by Rodney V. Earle

  He figured that Colleen liked this filly because she could see pain in her eyes. He could tell that Colleen wanted a horse that she could readily identify with, and pain had been a close friend of hers over the previous year. It had been nearly two years since she bought the last cull, which was Chase’s horse Cochise. When she began bidding for Cochise at the same River Bend Sale two years ago, she knew when she saw him that he was a diamond in the rough.

  The thin, scrappy animal stood just under seventeen hands high and isolated himself from the rest of the group, a sign of a mental or temperament disorder of some kind. Colleen liked him because he was a bay gelding reminiscent of For The Moment, one of the greatest show jumpers of all time.

  Carlos sat on the edge of his seat while bidding went back and forth between Colleen and an unknown gentleman from Oregon. Dick Long pointed his gavel back and forth quickly as the bid was increased by a hundred dollars at a time. The other bidder held his paddle in the air the whole time and never lowered it, which annoyed Colleen to no end. Her competition was wearing a brown derby, which looked like the kind of hat a man wears when he wants to pick a fight. After she was outbid for the fifth time by the same gentleman, Colleen suddenly did something that surprised everyone.

  When she bid against the gentleman for the sixth time, she stood up, turned toward the bidder, gripped the paddle between her teeth and then placed her hands on her hips. The other ranchers chuckled as Dick Long paused and stopped his auctioneering.

  The other bidder was looking at the sale catalog in his lap, and didn’t notice Colleen standing at first, but looked up when the barn became suddenly quiet. He looked at Dick Long, who had removed his hat and was scratching his head and looking straight at him from his position behind the podium. The bidder’s face turned red as he looked around the room in confusion and realized he was still holding his paddle in the air.

  He spied Colleen at the opposite end of the room, standing defiantly in a way that made her look ten feet tall. As he made eye contact with the gorgeous blonde in jeans and a red flannel, he lowered his paddle to his lap and turned in his seat.

  Colleen then grabbed her bidding paddle from her teeth and yelled, “That’s my horse!”

  The entire barn, including Dick Long, erupted in laughter. Colleen was a woman who was accustomed to getting what she wanted, especially when it came to horses. After a few seconds, the laughter that filled the barn subsided to a dull murmur and all eyes were on the derby-clad bidder from Oregon. In a gesture of respect, the gentleman bidder rose from his seat, faced Colleen and removed his hat.

  “I yield to the fair lady in red,” the gentleman said as he bowed.

  “Damn right you do!” Colleen shouted back.

  The room erupted in laughter again. Dick Long replaced his hat atop his head and called for any other bidders on the bay gelding, but there were none.

  Carlos let out a loud “Yee-ha!” and waved his straw hat in the air as applause filled the room and Colleen took her seat.

  “Congratulations, Colleen,” Dick Long said over the loudspeaker. “Your father would be proud of you.”

  At the time, Chase put his complete faith in Colleen’s ability to produce winning jumpers, and went along with the purchase of Cochise without a word.

  Carlos stood and looked at the sleepy Camorrista as thin rays of sunshine beamed through the roof vents onto the fresh golden straw floor of her stall. He knew he had his work cut out for him if Camorrista was ever going to reach the level of competition that Cochise did before Chase’s accident.

  A shiver made its way down his spine as Carlos thought about Cochise standing on three legs in the same stall at the Inaugural Triple C ‘Jump for Charity’ Exhibition almost a year before. He stood helplessly next to the bay gelding in the stall and looked into his eyes, which were glassy and full of sorrow. His right front leg dangled limply below the right knee, and the black hoof polish that Carlos applied thirty minutes before was rubbed off of the front of his hoof nail.

  Cochise whinnied softly in pain and Carlos wept as he hugged the gelding’s dirty neck. His experience taught him that Cochise’s leg would never support his own weight again, much less the weight of a rider. The beautiful animal’s shallow breathing told Carlos that his intense suffering was getting the best of him.

  The Jump for Charity attending veterinarian dreaded the job ahead of her. In her seven years in the position at United States Equestrian Federation events, never once had she euthanized an animal during competition. The fact that the California Coastal Horse Rescue was the benefactor of the charity tournament made her decision even more difficult. She never advised a trainer or owner about euthanasia, but historically carried out the procedure in private practice once the decision was made.

  She was well-familiar with the reputation of the Triple C Ranch foreman, and yielded to his vast experience when he requested to do the euthanization personally. The amount of damage to the animal’s leg supported her determination of “loss of use,” which aided Carlos in his decision to do the procedure himself.

  While Colleen and Joan were on their way to the hospital with Chase, Carlos injected the potent barbiturate into Cochise. The drug worked quickly, ending the animal’s dreadful suffering once and for all. He couldn’t help thinking that Chase didn’t suffer as Cochise did when they both hit the ground. He thought of Chase as the son he never had, and in the wink of an eye he was gone forever.

  Camorrista shifted her weight and pawed at the straw bedding weakly with her hoof, bringing Carlos back to the present with a shiver. Fine wisps of dust stirred through the sun’s rays and looked like gold smoke against the tired filly’s shiny black mane.

  †

  “I thought we agreed that none of us would go there unless we were all together,” said Colleen.

  “Well, with the circumstances and all—” said Sheila, who didn’t get the chance to finish her sentence a second before.

  “You owe me one gumball machine.”

  Sheila was glad to hear Colleen’s “gumball machine” line over the phone. To her, it meant that Colleen was feeling better, and that she was unhappy about their going to the restaurant, but all was forgiven.

  Colleen said the classic movie quote often. Whenever situations arose that were uncomfortable, yet needed resolution, she said it to break the ice. It was a coping tool for her. She would often take a forgiving stance to avoid a long, begrudging battle. The line translated into “I’m not happy with it, but let’s move on.”

  She was five years old when she first heard it in the movie Caddyshack. She repeated it over and over again, and her parents thought it was just the cutest thing ever. As with most things, her mother and father felt the quote eventually lost its luster.

  The other Musketeers had heard it thousands of times. Over the course of their more than twenty years together, the quote had come to mean so many different things. It was hard for them to explain to anyone else exactly what it meant. They accepted it for what it was, just as they accepted each other for who they were.

  “What did Jezebel eat?” asked Colleen.

  “What do you think she ate?”

  “And you had the chicken.”

  “What else?” Sheila asked rhetorically.

  “And K.P. ate nothing as usual.”

  “Have you ever seen her eat?”

  “Pfft!” Colleen sputtered into the phone’s mouthpiece.

  “You get anything to eat after I left yesterday?” Sheila asked.

  “No. My ass was kicked. I wasn’t hungry last night, but I am now. You know I don’t even remember you bein’ here yesterday?”

  “Shit,” Sheila said. “I’m surprised you remember anything from yesterday.”

  “I remember Jezebel pole dancin’ Saturday night, but that’s about it,” said Colleen.

  “I must’ve thrown up when I got home,” said Sheila. “Joe said that I owe him for cleaning the toilet.”

  “Maybe you shit all over like you did at pro
m,” Colleen said.

  “Not a chance. Besides, Joe never woulda cleaned up somethin’ like that. He woulda just left it. I’m never gonna live that down, am I?” asked Sheila.

  “What are friends for?”

  “When do they serve breakfast there?” Sheila asked, changing the subject away from the prom incident.

  “No idea. I’m not hungry for breakfast anyway,” Colleen said. “Why don’t you bring me a vegetable hamburger deluxe with onion rings, and a large chocolate shake from the drive-in?”

  “I wish,” Sheila said. “Don’t remind me.”

  “I hope Leah’s my nurse again today. The one I had last night sucked.”

  “Why? What did she do?” asked Sheila.

  “Shee-it,” Colleen said. “I only saw him once, and that’s when I hit the call button because I had to pee at about three o’clock this morning.”

  “That sucks,” said Sheila.

  “And he was a real dumbass,” Colleen said. “There… you hear that?”

  “Yeah, what was it?” Sheila asked.

  “The Morphine pump thing. It beeped all fuckin’ night, and even when the dumbass did come in here, he didn’t fix it. I swear… I think he wanted to watch me pee in the bedpan. Fuckin’ pervert.”

  “Nice,” said Sheila.

  “Come bust my ass out of here,” said Colleen.

  “I would if I could.”

  “You comin’ up here after work?”

  “Yeah. I’m pickin’ up Jezebel on the way and K.P. is supposed to meet us there at about six.”

  “That’s cool,” said Colleen.

  “Speakin’ of work…”

  “Yeah… you better get goin’,” Colleen finished her sentence.

  “I’d rather come up there and hang with you today,” said Sheila.

  “That’s all right,” said Colleen. “I talked to Ma already this morning, and she’s comin’ up about noon for a couple of hours. You know her… she’ll just hover over me all day.”

  “I know,” Sheila said. “She’s a worrier… and besides… it could be worse. You could be there all alone with no family.”

  “Yeah… that would suck,” Colleen said.

  “Well, I’m gonna hit the shower and head off to work.”

  “Okay, Sheila Jones,” said Colleen. “See you around six.”

  “All right. Get some rest,” Sheila said.

  “I will,” replied Colleen. “Have fun at work.”

  “Yeah, right.”

  “Bye,” Colleen said and then hung up.

  “I want a vegetable hamburger deluxe too,” Augie said with a yawn, which startled Colleen.

  “Oh, you’re up?”

  “I am… now,” said Augie.

  “Sorry,” Colleen offered apologetically.

  “That’s okay,” said Augie. “I’m done sleepin’ for a while.”

  The Morphine pump on the IV pole beeped again. Colleen let out a loud sigh in disgust. She pressed the pain button with her left thumb, but she knew the pump wasn’t dispensing Morphine anymore.

  “Little fucker,” Colleen said aloud.

  “Who?” Augie said.

  “The dumbass night nurse dude.”

  “You mean Robin?”

  “His name is Robin?”

  “Lame ass, ain’t he?” said Augie.

  “You’re tellin’ me,” said Colleen with a yawn of her own. “My leg hurts like hell, and I just know this thing is out of Morphine.”

  “That’s why it keeps beepin’,” Augie said.

  “So you have Morphine and I don’t,” Colleen said, disgusted.

  “They turned mine way down last night,” said Augie. “Hardly anything coming out of this fuckin’ thing. You see… they think I’m what you might call… a drug seeker.”

  “No shit,” Colleen said. “So what are you supposed to do if you’re in pain?”

  “I get Tylenol or Ibuprofen,” said Augie. “They won’t give me Vicodin anymore.”

  “That sucks ass,” said Colleen.

  “I just deal with it,” Augie added.

  “So where is this… Robin at?”

  “Probably headed home,” replied Augie. “The night nurses leave around seven.”

  “It’s seven fifteen now,” informed Colleen.

  “If Leah is workin’ today, she’ll be in any time. She usually works like three days in a row, but I don’t know if she already worked or whatever.”

  “How do you know that?” asked Colleen.

  “I come here a lot,” said Augie.

  “Why is that? You have cancer or somethin’?”

  “No,” replied Augie. “I run into doors a lot.”

  “Oh,” Colleen said.

  Colleen wondered what Augie meant when she said she runs into doors a lot. She decided not to pry.

  Augie grunted as she got out of her bed and went into the bathroom. She slowly shuffled her bare feet across the tile floor.

  Bolts of pain shot through Colleen’s left leg and shoulder, causing her to wince. She pushed the pain button again, but didn’t hear the familiar beep of the Morphine pump.

  The reverberated sound of the flushing toilet made Colleen envious that Augie could get up and go anytime she wanted. She heard the bathroom door open, but couldn’t hear her roommate get back into bed.

  “Do you mind if I pull back the curtains?” Augie asked loudly.

  “Me?” Colleen asked.

  “Of course!” Augie replied. “Who the hell did you think I was talkin’ to?”

  “Oh. Sure. Go ahead,” Colleen said. “I figured that you didn’t want me to know what you look like.”

  “I’m nuthin’ to scream at,” Augie said.

  Colleen heard the tinny screech of the metal rollers as Augie slid the curtain around the foot of her bed.

  “Ugh,” Augie grunted.

  “You all right?”

  “Yeah. Just gimme a minute.”

  “Want me to call the nurse?” Colleen offered.

  “I’m already here,” the familiar voice of Leah called through the doorway.

  “Thank you Jesus!” Colleen proclaimed, relieved.

  “What are you doing out of bed, young lady?” Leah said in a half-scolding tone.

  “Ugh,” Augie grunted again.

  Leah rushed over to Augie’s bed, where the twenty-five-year-old blonde was leaning with one hand against the table. Her feet were spread wide apart, and she was cradling her ribs with her other hand. Her diamond-patterned hospital gown had come untied, exposing her buttocks and back. Leah was careful to avoid the large dark bruises on Augie’s back. She put her right arm around her waist and her left arm across her chest. “Here we go,” she said. “Let’s get you back to the edge of the bed.”

  “Okay,” Augie said.

  “Take it slow.”

  †

  Joan sat in her dusty brown leather chair and stared at the mound of paperwork on her desk. The catalogs, invoices, and numerous Post-It notes fluttered against the steady flow of the air conditioning vent above her. Her trusty companion and office mate yawned and stretched in the morning sun that illuminated his doggie bed. Merlin, an eight-year-old Chinese Pug, snorted and “oinked” as most Pugs do. He circled quietly and pawed at the heavy horse blanket that filled his nest.

  His thrashing about reminded Joan of Colleen’s restlessness the evening before. She thought about how uncomfortable Colleen seemed without the use of her arm and leg. She wondered if Colleen would need her help going to the bathroom once she was home. At least Colleen would be coming home, she thought to herself. She stared blankly at the fluttering scraps of paper and thought about what was said the evening before.

  “Because he loves you,” she repeated aloud.

  Merlin oinked and lifted his head from the blanket as if Joan were addressing him. After a few seconds, he oinked again and snorted a deep sigh as his misty brown frog-like eyes blinked in the sun.

  “Because… he loves you,” Joan whispered.

>   †

  Leah helped Augie back to the edge of bed at her temporary residence in room 258. Augie grunted with each step. “Nice and easy,” Leah said. “We’ll fix your gown before you get under the covers.”

  “Can we just leave it open?” Augie asked in a strained voice.

  “Sure, but you have to tell me when you need to go to the bathroom next time,” Leah said. “I’m sure you know how to use the call bell by now,” she said with a playful scold.

  “O… kay,” Augie said with a grunt.

  “Did you want the curtain pulled back? Is that what you were trying to accomplish?”

  “Yes, please,” Colleen replied loudly.

  Leah held Augie’s elbow as she lowered herself to the edge of the thin mattress. The gown gathered at Augie’s midsection. She slid her feet under the covers and searched for the remote that controlled the bed’s position. Her overfilled breasts protruded defiantly against the sturdy material and ignored gravity as the gown slid above her knees. Bruises that looked like dark islands adorned her thighs. Some had yellowish edges that looked like beaches against a tan seascape, but most were new and uncharted.

  She pulled the covers to her waist and looked up at Leah as if she were a little girl caught trying to hide something from her mother. Leah tilted her head and looked empathetically at Augie. The head of the bed moved slowly upward with a dull hum.

  “I’m sorry, honey,” Leah said apologetically.

  “It’s my fault,” said Augie. “Really it is.”

  “You can’t let yourself believe that, even for one second,” Leah scolded.

  “I know,” Augie said guiltily.

  Leah refrained from saying anything more about the bruises. She knew that if she pressured Augie, she would just change the subject and distance herself from the only caregiver on the second floor that truly cared about her condition. Leah felt that the social worker had a long road ahead of her.

  “Leah?” Colleen said with a grunt.

  “Yes?”

  “I have to pee.”

  “Okay. I’ll be right there.”

  The electric hum of the bed slowed to a deep moan as the head reached its maximum height. Leah carefully slid her arm behind Augie’s shoulder and helped her lie back against the mattress. Augie cradled her ribs and winced in pain