Botero's Beautiful Horses

by Jan Conn

  By mid-November, spiralling flakes of snow blanketed not only the surrounding mountains but the valley below. Most days Della experienced the onset of winter only through her bedroom window with the curtains parted in the afternoon. She seemed mesmerized, watching the snow’s inevitable descent, her mind filled with memories of fourteen winters where a powdery blanket insulated everyone in the small town from the outside world. Some kids were taking advantage of the snowy street before the snowplow showed up, and she watched a little girl in a snowsuit fall off a toboggan and lay in the snow like a slug. Della had always felt the most safe then, in the middle of winter, her husband stewing about a life he couldn’t quite grasp, her daughter wiser with every passing day. Under the cover of thick winter, less room existed for questions of honesty to seep in, and above all, she had cherished the silence of snow. They felt impervious then, complete, a family in motion with her at the centre of it all, being the mother she’d yearned to be.

  Unless Hart or Molly knocked on the front door, no one did. Until a Tuesday just after dinnertime. The man who knocked called himself Mr. Winters, which gave Stacey a chuckle when she met him at the door because no snow had fallen all day, and now it had started up again. He was the son of the couple who’d perished on 9th Street months earlier. He had come to town to deal with insurance and the sale of the lot, and he heard from neighbours that his parents’ dog was alive and being kept by someone in town. He had been told that this might be the house. As if willing to offer testimony, Lucky noticed someone at the door, barked once and trotted into the living room. By the time Stacey invited the man inside, Della, having heard the interchange, had struggled to a standing position and held onto the doorframe.

  Hello, Brutus, the man said and reached down and ruffled the dog’s head.

  His name is Lucky, Della said. We’re sorry for your loss. It was terrible, and there’s nothing more I can say. When we went by many hours after the fire, Lucky was out in the yard at night, his paws burned to the point he could only limp. No one cared about the dog then. Just us. We brought him home, and he’s been checked out by the vet. He’s healthy and he’s Lucky now. That was months ago, I might add. Some people would have shot him to put him out of his misery.

  I know, Mr. Winters said, but when my kids heard—

  Mr. Winters, listen up. It’s too late for that. This dog was practically dead. Stacey wanted to rescue him, and we did. He gets walked twice a day, fed twice a day, and he’s part of our family now. I don’t want to be rude, but there’s not a snowball’s chance in hell this dog is going anywhere. End of story.

  Mr. Winters seemed to understand the conviction. I’m sorry for the upset, he said, and closed the door behind him.

  Well, Sadie said, I think you missed your calling all these years. You should have been a lawyer after seeing that performance.

  Thanks, Mom. You were great.

  Della didn’t seem to take in the compliments. She shuffled back to bed and didn’t budge until morning.

  One Sunday night, because Della wasn’t up to making it to the couch, Sadie and Stacey dragged the TV and VCR over so it filled up the doorway to the bedroom. Della wanted to see Mary Poppins, and the three of them lounged in bed to watch. The next morning, life resumed with everything back in its place, and Sadie said she would take a run to the store to get groceries, and Della agreed that she should. Lucky, who spent most of the day outside regardless of the weather, snuck into the house when Sadie left. She got home and found that Lucky had climbed into bed with Della. She ordered the dog off the bed, but he didn’t flinch. He had his head resting beside Della’s hands laced together on her stomach, a dog’s way of doing his best to pay his respects to the dead.

  It was cold the day they buried Della. Clear and cold and a wind along with it to make sure you noticed. They had no indoor service, as Della had requested. A few, including the parents of those children Della had cared for over the years, stood at the graveside while Reverend Munson said a few words honouring Della and the life she’d led since coming to Fernie. Reverend Munson thought highly of Della and knew some of her family circumstances. He might have gone on longer had it not been so cold. Amber, Morgan and Hugh showed up, and Molly and Hart appeared as expected, and they’d offered to pick Sage up, and he sat wrapped in blankets in his chair beside the cavernous hole about to accept his wife back to the earth. Oli Hardwick also attended. He stood off to the side, as if not eager to explain his interest in coming.

  Most memorable to Stacey that day was her dad beside the grave, swaddled in so many blankets he was almost beyond recognition as a human being. Once the service ended, those in attendance made their way to their cars that had cooled already but would offer sanctuary from the wind. When it came time to drive away, Hart and Sage sat and stood, stubborn against the elements, the last ones to leave.

  Aunt Sadie had made sandwiches, and Molly had baked squares, and they invited people to stop by but few did. Sage didn’t want to go back to the house, with so many memories fresh in his mind, so Hart took him back to Uphill Manor. An hour after the service, the only people in the house were Stacey, Sadie, Molly, Hart and Oli Hardwick, who explained that he’d met Della at church and said she was the kindest woman he’d met since his wife had passed away.

  Even with five people in it, the house felt empty, and when it got down to just two people, Stacey felt as if no one occupied the house, not herself and not her aunt either. They nibbled on and off at the sandwiches left behind and sat in the living room. Stacey didn’t feel like talking and neither did Sadie, but she felt a responsibility to do so.

  Your mom and dad didn’t plan for much, but they each had a separate bank account set aside for their funeral service. I guess your mom didn’t want you to have to worry about such a thing.

  Stacey felt a tightness in her chest, as if her heart wanted to shut down suddenly, the sort of feeling she expected to have at the gravesite but that only now was upon her. Even if she had wanted to speak she couldn’t have managed, and she realized her mother had done whatever she could to shelter her from anything bad. She’d done the best she could.

  Neither of them considered turning on the TV. Finally, Aunt Sadie said, Your mom always liked to go for a short walk after supper. I know it’s cold out, but let’s go. I think she’d like that.

  The wind had died down to a whisper, but it was even colder than before. Lucky zigzagged back and forth on their route, leaving yellow punctuation marks in the snow at every corner. The snowfall from days before had been ploughed, and walls of snow, curled at the sides of the road, stood like frozen banks of ice. The snow that remained on the street crackled underfoot as if the two of them were walking on glass.

  I will stay with you. Your mom said it would be up to me, but that’s what I’ve decided. You have a little over six months, and guess what? You’ll be finished grade eleven. I was thinking about Christmas. It won’t be the same here, that’s for sure. I thought maybe the two of us, once you’re out of school, could make our way down to San Jose for two weeks. Don’t tell me if you think it’s a good idea right away. Best to think about something like that.

  They walked around the block, a shorter walk than Della would have taken, but at least they got themselves out of the house. When they returned and had cleaned the snow off their boots, Stacey turned and gave her aunt a desperate hug. I do want to go to San Jose, she said.

  28

  Everyone deserved a friend like Amber. She talked with Stacey when she wanted to talk and just hung out with her when she didn’t. They were both focused on school and on getting good grades, and now that Morgan had gone on to university, they had more responsibility coming their way with the Environmental Club. Hugh was the official leader, but he didn’t offer the leadership they’d been used to. Amber never hitchhiked to UBC, but because Morgan’s holidays were longer than those in public school, he would be home in a week. Amber planned a surprise party to celebrate, and Stacey pretended to be excited. Someone must have
told Hugh that Stacey liked the scent he often wore because he wore it anytime he thought they might be together. She felt thankful for Hugh and what they’d done together, but it had nothing to do with the future. He had rescued her from the fate of Angus Bland, but she would spend the evening warding him off if she went to the party.

  Stacey found it hard at first to keep her mind on school. She had two exams to prepare for, and she wrote them, and because the last bit of school before the holidays was lame at the best of times, Aunt Sadie wrote her a note, and they flew to San Jose two days before school got out, ensuring that Stacey didn’t have to worry about Hugh and his endearing aroma after all.

  Hart, thrilled to do it, took care of Lucky. Molly didn’t want a dog in the house—she said she was allergic—but Hart said it wouldn’t be a problem because he would keep Lucky in Fort Whoop and it would be like having a huge dog house for the two of them.

  The flight from Calgary to San Jose marked the first time Stacey had been on a plane of any kind. The details of the journey occupied her wholly. Soon after they sat down, she asked the flight attendant if she could meet the pilot. When she met him, she relaxed; the pilot was about fifty years old and had a warm, trustworthy face. It didn’t feel right to be on the plane for such a dramatic experience without her mom present. Stacey had never asked, but she thought it likely her mother had never been on a plane and now she never would be. Aunt Sadie relaxed once they boarded and grew excited as she told her about all they would see in San Jose. Stacey had heard of Los Angeles and San Francisco, but this was different, her aunt said. The people who lived and worked there were different.

  Do you think we could drive to San Francisco? Just so I could see it?

  I’m sure we could do that. It’s not far. But believe me, there’s lots to do in San Jose.

  All Stacey knew about San Jose was the Dionne Warwick song Sage used to sing when he got drunk. It was cloudy when they arrived but much warmer than Calgary had been, and Aunt Sadie hung up their winter coats as soon as they got to her house. You won’t be needing that for the next two weeks, she said.

  The house Aunt Sadie had lived in for less than a year was in Willow Glen. Her friend Martin picked them up at the airport and drove them to a large Spanish-style ranch house, guarded by trees, with sidewalks on both sides of the street. The property had a pool in the backyard covered up with something blue, and it looked neglected. Martin stayed long enough to have a drink then phoned his son to come and pick him up so he could lend Aunt Sadie his own car for the next two weeks, a Cadillac with leather seats. When he left, he gave Aunt Sadie a kiss and told Stacey he hoped she enjoyed her time with her aunt.

  Is Martin your boyfriend?

  No, not really. Just a friend. Hey, what do you say we order in tonight? I don’t feel like cooking and after maybe we can catch a movie. Sound good?

  If it’s okay with you. Thanks.

  Your mom did a good job, you know that? You’re always so polite. You must have a lot of friends.

  I have some friends. I don’t like having too many friends. And I wasn’t always polite you know. I was stubborn when I was a kid. If I didn’t get my way.

  That’s good though, don’t you see. It means you have standards.

  Stacey didn’t know how to respond. She’d never thought of herself as a person with standards before.

  I got to put the diaphragm you gave me into practice.

  You did? How did that go?

  I guess you could call it a once in a lifetime experience.

  Do you like the guy?

  I wish I did, but I don’t. He’s not my type.

  See what I mean? Aunt Sadie said. You’ve got standards.

  They woke to fog on the first day, but a breeze came up, and by the time they embarked on a walk to the city centre of Willow Glen, the skies had lifted, and it felt like paradise to Stacey. The weather reminded her of an early summer day back home. The little town was quaint, not that Fernie was without charm, it had plenty, but the low-lying buildings and sidewalk cafes here felt magical, and Stacey felt as if she were floating about the town instead of walking. She noticed day spas and boutiques on every block, and Aunt Sadie wanted to walk into every store they passed. In most she knew someone who worked there, and she introduced Stacey as if she were a prize she’d won in Canada and brought back to gloat over.

  We’ll come back here and get our nails done later in the week. Would you like that?

  I’ve never had my nails done. Amber did them once, but never in a nail place.

  Well, that settles it. I’ll book a manicure and a pedicure, and you’ll have proof when you get home that you’ve been to California. Remember when the two of us went out for lunch and ate mussels?

  That was great, Stacey said.

  Well, in two more blocks, there’s a seafood restaurant to die for. There’s nothing in the world you could imagine eating for lunch you couldn’t find around here somewhere.

  After lunch they went to a bookstore called Hicklebee’s that Aunt Sadie said was famous for kids’ books but they had books of all kinds. Stacey only had forty-two dollars in Canadian money to spend, but her aunt said she would pay for any book she picked out. Stacey chose Stephen King’s It.

  That must be the shortest book title in the world. Are you sure you want that one? It sounds violent.

  I like Stephen King. He has a great imagination. Don’t worry, I don’t plan on killing little kids or anything. Sometimes it’s good to go places where you know you could never live.

  After a week, Stacey couldn’t stand it anymore, she had to phone Amber and tell her what she’d been up to. Aunt Sadie said that wouldn’t be a problem, and she let her phone in the privacy of her small office.

  Stacey started in with a synopsis of all the things they’d done and all the places they’d been to. We saw the mall my aunt owns. It’s not a huge mall and not all that modern, but it’s a moneymaker according to Aunt Sadie. We drove to San Francisco and drove over the Golden Gate Bridge and ate crab at Fisherman’s Wharf and had a ride in a trolley car. I wish you were here with me. We’d have so much fun.

  The most outrageous thing Stacey saved for last. She told Amber about the day it had warmed up and Aunt Sadie had suggested they hang out by the ocean, and they took a blanket and towels and went off to Bonny Doon Beach.

  We used the blankets to lie on and the towels for headrests because the water was too cold and no one was swimming, but there were fifteen or twenty nude sunbathers, and Aunt Sadie staked out a spot in the middle of them all. From kids to old people, it was wild. It’s the most freeing feeling you can imagine, Amber, honestly. You would have felt like an idiot if you left your clothes on down there. The feeling of the sun on your skin is so soothing.

  Stacey didn’t get the gasps of astonishment she expected from the other end of the phone. When she asked what was wrong, Amber explained that Morgan had decided to move on. They would be friends, whatever that was supposed to mean.

  The days of the last week slipped by one by one like a death sentence approaching. One night, Stacey offered to cook supper, spaghetti and meatballs, and Aunt Sadie invited a friend to dinner, someone called Nathan. The meal was delicious, Stacey thought, and so did Aunt Sadie and Nathan, though it occurred to her that part of its success was because they were well into the wine before she had dinner ready. She made a salad to go with it, one with fresh shrimp. After dinner, it seemed obvious Aunt Sadie wanted to spend time with Nathan, so Stacey watched TV while they stayed in the kitchen and played Yahtzee. Stacey had wine too and grew tired and went to bed. When she got up in the morning, she was alone at first, and then Nathan and Aunt Sadie came into the kitchen in matching housecoats.

  The next night, Aunt Sadie said she would cook, and she invited Martin for dinner. Martin was older than Nathan, which maybe explained why he asked so many questions. She couldn’t tell if what he asked about, such as what it was like to live in Canada, were serious inquiries or if he was just kidding around.
He wanted to know how old, on average, Canadians were when they first learned how to snowshoe. Stacey said she had no idea. She’d never snowshoed once in her life.

  In the morning, she got up first again. She ate half a banana and went for a walk. It was a good neighbourhood for walking. Every tree a chorus of birdsong.

  29

  Molly the nose was sweeping her front porch when Stacey and Aunt Sadie arrived part way through what should have been the first day back at school. Molly took Stacey to Fort Whoop where Lucky lay sleeping on a rug he’d adopted. When he saw Stacey, he barked and performed a dance he may have been rehearsing in her honour. Molly said, as if to deflect the dog’s zealous welcome, that they allowed Lucky to sit in the living room every evening to watch television for one hour.

  The house smelled dank and musty and depressing after California. According to Molly, it hadn’t snowed for almost two weeks, but snow remained at the side of the road. Aunt Sadie said she would get groceries the next day, and they ordered in pizza and watched a movie, Stacey snuggling with Lucky on the floor the whole time.

  We’re going to be busy, both of us, Aunt Sadie said, and that turned out to be true. Aunt Sadie paid the mortgage and the bills needed to keep the house running, but Stacey knew it wasn’t what her aunt had in mind, living life in a small town, bogged down in snow with all her friends in California. To keep herself busy, she accepted a job as a booking agent for the ski hill, and part of the time, she worked from home. Stacey, on top of her school work, got a job at a clothing store where she worked Saturdays, and Aunt Sadie turned out to be the store’s best customer. Not only that, she taught Stacey how to be a salesperson. She learned to welcome those who entered with only a hint that the purpose of her presence was to sell them something and engaged them by commenting on something most would agree with, or by asking a question that could serve up a conclusive answer without being the least bit contentious. The weather always worked, be it fair or foul. Customers rarely admitted what they were looking for, often because they didn’t know. Stacey encouraged them to try things on, never just one thing, because what suited a person was always a mystery and one just never knew. They only came out of the change room wearing a new outfit when the item had passed the biggest barrier of all, the client’s initial grudging acceptance, and at that point, they wanted confirmation of their preliminary verdict, and Stacey learned to offer validation without going overboard. Oh my, often did the trick. It hurt no one to suggest they might want a matching scarf or pair of socks. The trick, her aunt assured her, was to have the customer leave the store with goods in hand they felt deserving of.