North Oak 4- To Bottle Lightning

by Ann Hunter

  The recoil reverberated through her, with the stink of smoke on the air. Sweat formed at her temples as the faces continued to change. Ashley. Carol. Ashley, Carol.

  With another squeeze of the trigger, Alex’s heart raced. Carol was on her knees before her, wide eyed. Alex’s heart beat so hard, she swore it was going to break her ribs.

  The shaking from her finger spidered out to her hand, her wrist, her arms. Her aim unsteadied. How could it come to this?

  Pull the trigger.

  Alex woke in a cold sweat, gasping for air, wrinkling her sheets in a death grip. Her bedroom swirled around her, disorienting her in the dark. She bit her lip hard enough to bleed, to make sure she was really awake. Bile threatened to make an escape.

  She swallowed back hard, left with a rotten hollowness. If a voice spoke within her, it would echo in the void. She’d been left with nothing more than the betrayal she felt saddled with. Ashley abandoning her with a grief she couldn’t seem to get away from, and Carol bringing these nightmares to the attention of Cade and Hillary.

  She’d been stabbed in the heart with something she was sure was a sacred trust; secrets between friends. She still didn’t get how Carol could just blab like that. It left a sour taste, giving way to a muddied mix of confused anger.

  Alex kicked her legs until the blankets fell off her bed. She had to get out of here. Out of this room where all her nightmares happened.

  After pulling on jeans, she peeked out her door. Cade snored softly from his and Hillary’s room down the hall, and Laura’s door was shut between the two rooms. Alex crept across the hall to the bathroom, splashing cold water onto her face before heading downstairs.

  She would have grabbed fruit from the bowl on the table, but she couldn’t even stomach the thought this morning. Paddock boots in hand, she snuck out the front door, and sat on the steps outside.

  It felt good to press the soles of her feet against the concrete of the stoop. Something about the cool roughness grounded her as she stared at the last of the morning stars. Cicadas chirped in the distance, sounding like some weird helicopter. Alex braced her elbows on her knees, and leaned her head between her hands, rubbing the back of her neck and breathing deeply the thick, warm air around her.

  She wouldn’t call it being alive, but she was present, and that was better than haunting the dream world.

  After a while, she pulled on her boots and headed toward the barns. The morning workouts would start soon.

  A few horses stood in the aisle, getting a light brushing before being tacked. Some of their empty stalls were being mucked by North Oak’s barn maintenance team. The light in the barn was still soft and dim, not quite as glaring for the activity and controlled chaos to come. Brooke wasn’t even here yet.

  Alex pressed her hand against a chestnut’s neck as she passed him, heading toward the list to see if the new one had been posted for the morning, trying to see who she would ride. The more she rode, the closer she’d get to seeing her name next to Promenade’s.

  “Alex, I’m glad you’re here,” Hillary said.

  Alex looked over her shoulder. She hadn’t expected Hillary to be up this early. She usually made her rounds a little later in the morning when the horses were coming in from their workouts.

  Hillary took her by the elbow. “I need your help.”

  Alex followed, shoving her hands into her back pockets and yawning. She probably should’ve felt more enthusiastic with how concerned and urgent Hills sounded, but a poor night’s sleep was winning over.

  Hillary led her to the yearling barn, hurrying to the stall of a gray colt. “He cast himself in the corner this morning, the dolt. I managed to get him to roll over with my assistant, Ben, but we could use an extra hand bandaging him. He banged his legs pretty good.”

  Alex peered into the stall. The colt look shaken, but not too bad as far as she could tell. A thin gash of red trickled down his foreleg. Alex tucked her lip, remembering her own taste of iron this morning.

  “I feel like I should know him,” she said.

  Hillary looked up from running her hands over his knees. “He was the first foal you saw come into the world.”

  Alex smiled. She remembered that night. How it had been like a car wreck— you had a hard time looking away. It was the night Hillary had promised someone would come along and hug Alex so tight, all her broken pieces would go back together.

  Alex thought guiltily of Carol. Betrayed by the piece keeper.

  “There’s antiseptic and bandages in my bag,” Hillary said. “Could you pass them to me?”

  Alex crouched and dug through the leather bag. You’d think Hillary would be better organized, but it often felt like this bottomless pit of random junk.

  Her hand seized around the roll of gauze, and the other found the antiseptic spray. “Got it.”

  She brought them into the stall and passed them to Hillary.

  “Ben.” Hillary looked up to the young man holding the colt’s lead shank. “You keep holding him.” Her gaze shifted to Alex. “Start wrapping his hind legs.”

  Alex’s eyebrow raised. “Me?”

  “No. The Cave Girl behind you.”

  Alex looked over her shoulder, then shrugged sheepishly. Oh.

  She moved carefully to the colt’s haunches and ran her hands carefully down his side and leg. His skin twitched beneath her touch. “He got a name yet?”

  “Idiot seems to fit,” Hillary responded.

  “Doctor Showman,” Ben laughed.

  “It’s not his first time standing here like this.”

  In the past year or so, Alex had learned it wasn’t uncommon for young horses to scratch themselves up. It was probably hard not to with all that boundless energy running through them. Brooke would say horses weren’t meant to stay shiny and new. Alex wondered if he’d grow out of it.

  When she found the nicks on his hind leg, she reached for the antiseptic standing in the bedding between her and Hillary. The colt stamped his hoof and threw his head when she sprayed him. Alex held his ankle carefully. “I know it stings, brother.”

  He relaxed and she bandaged him up. It didn’t take long to wrap, wind, cross, repeat. She almost zoned out for a minute, forgetting her problems with Carol. In the quiet, a feeling of peace built in her, working side by side with a woman who had been emotionally absent for the good part of the last year. But it seemed different now.

  Hillary glanced to her. “Why are you up so early?”

  Alex grimaced. Well, forgetting everything was nice while it lasted.

  “Nightmares again?” Hillary rose and took the lead from Ben. “You can head home. Thanks.”

  Ben nodded and headed out. The colt bumped his head against Hillary’s shoulder.

  Alex watching the young assistant go, then turned back to Hillary. A flare of that confused fear and anger flooded back into her. She didn’t want to say it, but the words pushed out haltingly like they needed to be heard.

  “I shot Carol.”

  Hillary’s eyes widened and the color drained from her face.

  “In my dream,” Alex blurted.

  Hillary let out a big breath.

  “That sounded bad, didn’t it.” Alex leaned back on heels, hands hanging between her knees. She stared at the straw. The last time she confessed she shot someone, Hillary turned her in to the police, without a second thought it seemed. Alex wrung her hands to keep them from shaking again. “What do you think it means?”

  Hillary unclipped the gray colt from his lead. Her voice was quiet. “It is an inevitable fact that eventually we will hurt those we love.”

  Alex followed her out of the stall, shutting the door behind them. “But what if it doesn’t have to be that way. What if?”

  Hillary marched to the feed room, and scooped enough grain to tide the colt over until his breakfast. “The world is full of what ifs and could’ve beens. What never changes is how we feel.” She evened out the small measure of feed. “Feelings become thoughts. Thoughts becom
e action. Sometimes it happens so fast, it comes out like a bullet. Too late to take back. Too fast to dodge. No amount of sorrys or I didn’t mean it changes that.”

  Alex scuffed her toe against the floor, shoulders slumped. For one of the first times, she didn’t shirk when Hillary touched her shoulder. She looked up, and their eyes met.

  Hillary continued, “When we love someone, it can do crazy things to us. We can feel so strongly for a person that it clouds our vision. And in the heat of the moment, anything can happen. Beautiful things. Horrible things. The point is, love’s ugly, and messy, and the most amazing force on the face of the earth.”

  Alex’s brow furrowed. “So I’m supposed to buy into this love conquers all crap and pray for the day I stop hurting?”

  “No, dear.” Hillary squeezed her arm. “Pray for the day you accept the love you deserve.”

  ***

  “Maybe it’s time, Sport.”

  “Maybe Carol’s right.”

  “If you’re still having nightmares, therapy can help.”

  The words stuck in Alex’s mind as she lay in the open field, surrounded by broodmares and foals contentedly grazing. She crossed her arms over her face to shield her eyes from the sun that beat down on her.

  It shut out everything, save for the sound of horses cropping warm bluegrass, and foals sniffing and snorting. Tails swished and swatted at buzzing flies.

  There was a quiet energy that pushed through her from the ground below, leaving her aware and vulnerable all at once. Like anything could swoop down and take this sweet life away at any moment.

  The faintest smell of fly spray, appley and tart, floated on the breeze, carrying her away on horseback in reverie. Why did she want to ride? Was there any more reason than being in a world where that was the only way of life? Was it really what she wanted?

  What was it about the vibration, the electricity that connected her to beast? That ethereal sense of being bigger, being more than what you really were. Alive, and yet not real.

  Fuzzy, curious lips nibbled her elbow. Alex peeked out from beneath her arms to see a little black nose. She spidered her fingers up the side of Venus Nights’s velveteen face, the filly she’d help bring into the world. The furball on spindles nudged Alex’s arm out of the way, and plunked down beside her, resting her sculpted head on Alex’s chest. She nibbled her t-shirt the way any baby would snuggle a blanket.

  Alex rested her arm over the filly’s satin neck. “I don’t need some joker to tell me how to feel.”

  She closed her eyes again, remembering the first time she’d seen this filly’s mother surge through morning mist. That vision ignited a fire in Alex. It had looked so easy to just hang on and leave everything behind.

  Any horse had to be faster than the shadows that kept chasing her.

  “Give me a sign, Ash,” Alex whispered to the sky. “Anything.”

  When Alex finally decided to head in for the night, Hillary was prepping dinner. Alex hoped she could sneak past her unnoticed, shutting the door as softly as possible, but it was like the woman had eyes in the back of her head.

  “Carol came by looking for you. She didn’t look too happy when she left. Everything alright?” Hillary asked, sucking ranch dressing from her finger.

  Alex cringed on the stairs. “Hunky dory.”

  “She’s worried for you,” Hillary said, putting the final touches on a salad. “She’s a good friend, and I think she just wants your happiness.” She turned with the bowl and set it on the dining table, glancing casually at Alex. “If you’re still having nightmares…”

  Alex white-knuckled the banister. “I’m fan-flipping-tastic, okay?”

  Hillary dusted her hands off. “There’s things we can do to help. Talking to a professional, medicine—”

  “I’ve seen what drugs do to people. I don’t want—”

  “These are different.” Hillary’s hand swung out as though trying to help Alex down from a ledge. “They’ll help with anxiety, and depression, and—”

  “No. Just. NO. Leave me alone.” Alex bolted up the stairs before she could hear any more desperation in Hillary’s voice.

  Alex huddled on her bed, drawing her knees to her chest.

  Drugs. Wasn’t this supposed to be some God-fearing Christian family?

  And this God guy. How did they know God was a He? Wouldn’t there have been a mother, too? It wasn’t like God was a frog, right? Switching genders as needed in order to reproduce.

  Alex winced. Now she couldn’t get the image out of her head of a giant frog with a halo round its head.

  Next they’d be having her licking toads.

  Deity toads that magically healed you.

  Alex dropped her head in her arms and groaned.

  She didn’t look up again until a soft knock fell on the edge of her door. Hillary stood there with a plate of food. Not her again. Why did everyone have to be so freaking helpful and stuff?

  Hillary slid the plate onto Alex’s nightstand.

  “Sometimes it’s easier to shut yourself down, to shut out the emotions and live an unfeeling life. But that’s the coward’s way. There’s no heroism in bleeding out either, but it certainly takes more courage to let yourself be vulnerable. And you and I, we fight demons every day, don’t we.”

  She sat on the edge of the bed, looking over to Alex. “I know we don’t always see eye to eye, and I know there’s no forcing you to do anything. Just know that therapy’s an option whenever you’re ready.” She rose, pausing at the door. “And…I’m here, too.”

  ***

  Alex’s dream began with the clang of the starting gate. Astride a black horse, it pulled her along to the tune of thunder and a whirlwind of colors.

  Dirt flung back in her face, stinging with the wind, as they settled into place behind other horses and jockeys. It was madness and passion all at once.

  The roar of the wind beat within her, and she felt solid in the irons, like nothing could shake her. As they rounded the turn, they headed into a heavy mist.

  She looked to either side of her, trying to see the other riders and horses. She couldn’t even make out silhouettes.

  Focusing on the steed beneath her, she tuned into their heartbeats, how her center was right above his. Their breaths came as one, and she crouched down low, driving him forward until they emerged from the peculiar fog.

  But the track had turned into North Oak’s, and the crowds and other jockeys were gone. Only she and the black horse remained. From the corner of her eye, she noticed a girl at the rail; a shadow of herself, in awe.

  The image blurred away, and the horse she was on vanished. She fell through space and time, with no ground rushing up to break her. Only darkness.

  Alex jumped awake. It took a moment to realize she was safe in bed. She breathed deeply for a moment, then calmed back to sleep.

  In the dark stillness of dream, a figure walked toward her. Alex’s heart leapt and ached at the same time. Ashley.

  The dark gave way to light, and Alex found herself in the paddock with the mares and foals, worrying again how this dream world would be taken from her.

  Ashley stood beside her. When they locked eyes, Alex heard Ashley’s voice, but her lips did not move.

  You deserve this life. You are exactly where you need to be.

  In a split second, Alex was back on the black horse racing home to the din of the crowd in the grandstands.

  Ashley spoke again. You only get one life, and one shot at it.

  Alex’s heart soared as she and the black horse crossed the wire first. As she punched her fist in the air in victory, the world went dark again.

  She and Ashley stood hand in hand. Ashley looked serene and happy. Alex looked down at their hands as Ashley said, I’ll always be with you, even when I’m not.

  And so is she.

  Alex looked up as Ashley linked Carol’s hand to Alex’s. Just their pinky fingers, in that special way they did.

  You need eachother.

  Ashl
ey looked from Alex to Carol and back again, and smiled, letting it sink in before fading away.

  Be good to one another.

  ONE DREAM

  Alex couldn’t shake the fatigue that plagued her, like she’d been up all night. Was there any universal message in her bowl of cheerios? She willed there to be some meaning amongst the floaty O’s. If only the cereal could tell her something other than “Ooooooo.”

  She inhaled when Cade squeezed her shoulder.

  “You okay, Sport?”

  For a moment, the wheaten honey-nut inner tubes swirled in the milk. She held her breath, like they would reveal some secret message, but they simply settled. She didn’t want to confess she’d had a rough night, for fear it would bring up seeing the shrink again.

  She filled her spoon with cereal and shoved it into her mouth so she wouldn’t have to answer.

  Cade pulled out a chair for himself. “That good, huh?”

  Alex grimaced. He knew her too well.

  Hillary slid him a plate of bacon, eggs, and toast just as a knock fell on the front door.

  Laura rose to get it. She looked to Alex after opening it. “It’s for you.”

  Alex slid her chair back, and peeked around the door jamb. Carol stood at the bottom of the steps looking just as tired as Alex felt.

  “Can we go somewhere to talk?”

  Alex glanced back to Cade and Hillary to see if it was alright. They nodded, and Alex pulled on her chucks, shutting the door behind her as she went outside.

  She stood on the stoop, not sure what to say since they’d been bickering lately.

  Carol simply sighed and headed off toward the high pasture where the grove lay just beyond.

  Alex followed behind, and they remained wordless for the most part.

  Carol ventured into the grove and sat where the flowers were most plentiful. She gazed up into the canopy above, at the birds flitting overhead, and the light seeping through the branches.

  “When I die, I want to be a tree.”

  “What?” Alex leaned against a trunk.

  Carol looked at her. “You know those pots they can put your ashes in so you can nourish a tree. I want that. Because trees become books, and books last forever.”