One Unhappy Horse

by C. S. Adler

  "Dove," she said, "Dove, what am I going to do? There's got to be a way to get money for you, if only I could think of it. Too bad you don't have a rich owner. If you were our prime boarder, you'd get that operation." She thought of Mom's leasing idea. Hateful as it might be to share Dove, it was a way to bring in money. Tell Mom she'd relented? But even so, they couldn't lease Dove until he was well. First they had to borrow the money for the operation. And who would lend them money if the bank and Grandma wouldn't?

  Jan laid her head against Dove's smooth, warm neck and let the tears leak hotly onto him. He took a deep breath and let it out in a shuddering sigh. She closed her eyes wearily and dozed and woke and finally returned to bed.

  Mattie and Amelia came walking down the road the next afternoon. With Mattie leading the way, they swerved and came straight to Dove's corral.

  "How're you doing?" Mattie asked Jan, who was raking up the soiled shavings. It was a task she should have done that morning. But she'd awakened shivering and headachy, and by the time she'd taken a hot shower and pushed herself through the motions of dressing, she'd barely made the school bus. Then she'd endured another long school day of being one alone among many.

  "Not so good," Jan said. She greeted Amelia with a "Hi," and got a wave of the hand in reply.

  "When's the operation?" Mattie asked.

  "No money. No operation," Jan said. "The bank refused Mom."

  "Oh, honey, that's terrible. What are you going to do?"

  "I don't know. Kill myself, maybe." Jan spoke without smiling.

  "Now, that's no way to sound. There's always something you can do," Mattie said.

  Amelia snorted. "When there's no money, there's no money. You should understand that. You gave all yours to your daughter, and now you're stuck rooming with me. Can't even have your own room because she won't pay for it."

  "Oh, what do I need my own room for?"

  "Because you want it bad. Admit it, Mattie, you know you want it."

  "Well, there are other things more important. Besides, what'd you do without me?"

  "I'd get along," Amelia said.

  "Anyway, I didn't give my daughter everything," Mattie said. "I still have my emerald ring."

  "Right, and she's probably aiming to get that away from you as soon as you land in the nursing home or you give her some other excuse to call you incompetent."

  "My daughter's not nasty like you make her out to be," Mattie said angrily. "She's a good girl, and she and I have always been that close." She held up her crossed fingers to show Amelia. "It's just—I don't know. She's scared because I forgot to turn off the stove and like that. That's all it is."

  "You mean she only loves you when you're useful to her?"

  Mattie was bristly with distress. "Valerie's busy," she told Amelia. "She's got a high-up position in her company." Mattie stopped and looked startled as if she'd remembered something. Her eyes focused vaguely on Jan, who was stroking Dove's neck as she listened. Once again, Mattie had forgotten that her daughter had quit that job and was working as a consultant now, Jan thought.

  But Mattie had hit her stride again. "And anyway, Amelia," she boasted, "the ring is still mine, and it's valuable. So I'm not poor."

  "A lot of good that ring does you," Amelia said. "I put all my jewelry in the safe deposit box. Nothing to wear it for around here."

  "I'll tell you what this ring'd be good for. It'd be good for a loan if I hocked it," Mattie said.

  "Oh, pshaw!" Amelia said. "As if you need money."

  "Well, I don't, but my young friend here does." She turned to Jan and said earnestly, "That's what we could do. We could hock this ring to get the money you need for the operation."

  Jan's heart leaped at this spark of an idea and sank in the next instant as Amelia put it down.

  "Are you crazy, Mattie?" Amelia said. "If you pawn that ring, where are you going to get the money to redeem it?"

  "Don't you think this child and her mother would pay me back? Of course they would. You don't trust anybody, Amelia, but I do." She drew herself up tall as she could and narrowed her eyes as she considered. "Now," Mattie said, "likely they won't give full value, so I won't get as much as the ring's worth. But I bet it would cover the operation." She frowned determinedly.

  Amelia said, "You're an old fool, Mattie. I don't blame your daughter for taking your money away from you."

  "I couldn't take your money," Jan put in. But neither woman seemed to hear her.

  Still directing her remarks at Amelia, Mattie said, "The ring's mine, and if that's what I want to do with it, who's to stop me?

  If only Mattie were her grandmother, Jan thought wistfully.

  "Your daughter'll be sure you're crazy if she finds out you pawned it," Amelia warned.

  Mattie paused to think, her eyes wide and her lips pursed with concentration. Finally, she said, "What if she doesn't find out? What if I say I lost it again?"

  "Last time when you thought you lost it, she sounded ready to send you to the nursing home for being senile."

  "She was just upset. She loves this ring, and it'll be hers for sure when I die. Meanwhile, I don't see why it can't be of use to someone else."

  "Mattie!" Jan raised her voice and touched Mattie's shoulder to make her listen. "I couldn't take your ring."

  "Oh, no? What else are you going to do?" Mattie asked feistily.

  Jan chewed on her lip in silence. She had no answer to that. She only knew it would be wrong to let Mattie pawn her ring. That wasn't a solution to consider. Resolutely, Jan put it out of her mind even while she said, "I guess I'll think of something." Her remark was sheer bravado. She knew her brain was squeezed dry of ideas.

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  When Jan went to take care of Dove before school Friday morning, he didn't bother to greet her. He didn't even show an interest in her presence. Worse, when she tried to coax him to get up so she could brush and curry him, he wouldn't budge.

  "I know what'll get you up, Dove," she said. She raced to the casita, grabbed a slice of bread, and ran back to hold it out to him. Years before, when he'd nipped a sandwich right out of her hand, she had discovered how much he liked bread. Now he stretched his neck toward the treat without moving his legs. When he couldn't reach it, he pulled his lips back over his teeth in that horse smile that always made her smile back.

  "Oh, Dove," she said, her voice choking with feeling, "you just have to move around more." She could hear Dad's voice warning of respiration problems if she let him lie there for too long. "Come on. Stand up, or I'm not giving this to you."

  Finally, he heaved himself upright and took the bread. But he rested all his weight on his three good legs while she groomed him.

  "Things are bad enough without you developing any more ailments," she told him.

  He bumped her shoulder playfully when she'd finished. "You know, we still haven't figured out how we're going to afford to get your leg fixed," she said. "But we will. Don't you worry, we will."

  Maybe his leg would start healing by itself, she thought. After all, minor miracles did happen. Why not to Dove and her?

  A pink sunrise lingered in the east and the air was still a chilly fifty degrees when she'd finished watering and feeding Dove. Jan just had time to use the bathroom before leaving for school. While she was sitting on the toilet, she saw evidence that her mother had taken to wishful thinking, too. In the wastebasket under the sink was a ripped-up lottery ticket. Mom never bet, but now she'd put good money down on a long shot, and Jan had no doubt for whom she'd done it. Mom, who had always been the realist in their family! Jan got tears in her eyes at this new sign of her mother's affection for her.

  In gym that day, the teacher made the whole class run the mile for the quarterly fitness tests, and Jan ran the fastest.

  Lisa appeared at her side in the hall on the way to lunch. "Did you get so strong from riding your horse?" Lisa asked.

  "More likely from ranch work," Jan said, thinking that even if riding could streng
then her, it wouldn't have, because she hadn't done any for weeks.

  "Aren't you too young to be 'working'?" Lisa asked.

  "Why? My mother needs help on the ranch. And I like doing it."

  "I guess that makes sense," Lisa said. Then, with a sympathy that hadn't been in her voice before, she asked, "Is your horse any better?"

  "No."

  "Well, I'm sorry. I guess I don't know a lot about horses. Maybe you could introduce me to yours sometime? I mean, I'd be interested. Back East, we didn't have real ranches. Not where I lived in Connecticut, anyway."

  "Okay, sure," Jan said quickly. She was delighted that Lisa was still offering her friendship even after all Jan's inept rebuffs, but only after Lisa had turned off into the girls' bathroom did Jan think about setting a date. "What's the matter with me?" she asked herself out loud. "Can't I even ask someone to come over?" Lisa had made it clear enough she wanted to come. Tomorrow, Jan told herself. Tomorrow she'd practice the fine art of making friends.

  That afternoon after school, Jan found her mother in the big arena exercising a spirited paint on a lunge line. The paint was a young, partly schooled animal that belonged to a ten-year-old girl whose doctor mother couldn't always drive her to the ranch to work with him. Jan let herself in the gate and greeted Mom quietly so as not to upset the high-stepping black-and-white horse.

  "You have a good day?" Mom asked.

  "Okay. How's Dove doing?"

  "I called Dr. Foster and asked if we could have the operation and pay her off in installments. She said she'd be willing, but she'd need to use the surgery facilities. That's where the major cost is. And she has no control over those charges. She sounded like she felt bad about not being able to help us out." Mom threw Jan a worried glance.

  Jan pressed her thumb to her lip, thinking. Desperation made her say, "Mattie made an offer the other day. Did I tell you she has this ring her husband gave her that's worth a lot of money?"

  Mom shrugged. She was concentrating on keeping pace with the frisky horse, who was kicking up his heels and tossing his head as he moved. Besides, she had no interest in jewelry. The only thing Mom ever wore was her thin gold wedding band.

  "Well, Mattie said she could hock her ring and lend me the money for Dove," Jan continued.

  "Do you think she meant it?"

  "I don't know. Probably." Jan was recalling the feisty way Mattie had insisted on her right to do what she wanted with her own property. It had sounded as if she wanted to prove that she wasn't totally under her daughter's control.

  "Well, even if she wasn't just talking," Mom said, "you couldn't let her do it, Jan. She's an old lady and she may not be—you know, all there. It would be wrong to take her money."

  "I know."

  "Anyway," Mom said, "she's probably already forgotten she said it."

  "Maybe," Jan said. But she wondered. Did having spells and forgetting things occasionally mean that Mattie had lost her mind? It seemed to Jan that Mattie made too much sense to be senile. Still, her spur-of-the-moment offer might not have been serious. Or she might have been boasting out of a passing anger at her daughter, and thought better of it later. In any case, they couldn't take her money when Mattie had so little herself—nothing but the ring, not even her own room.

  "I bought another lottery ticket today," Mom said.

  "You're wasting money, Mom."

  "Somebody's got to get lucky. Why not us?"

  "I guess," Jan said. A lottery ticket was a long shot, but it was better than nothing.

  Mom slowed the paint to a standstill and began stroking his neck. "Imagine ... your Mattie offering to hock her ring for you," Mom said. "That lady sure must like you a lot. Even if she didn't mean it, it was nice of her."

  "Mattie is really nice," Jan said.

  "One of these days I'd like to meet her." A smile creased Mom's sun-worn face. "Tell you what. How about we invite her for a cookout?"

  "A cookout?" They never entertained. Jan wasn't even sure what her mother meant.

  "Sure," Mom said cheerfully. "It'll get our minds off our troubles. I'll buy a steak and we can cook it outdoors. We still have that old charcoal grill of your father's. It doesn't have to be fancy. Mattie'd probably be glad to be invited out."

  Jan was sure she would be, especially since her daughter didn't take her anywhere. "That'd be wonderful, Mom. But I think hamburger would be better than steak. I mean, in case she has false teeth or something."

  "Right," Mom laughed. "Hamburger and buns and some salad is enough. Want to invite her for tomorrow?"

  "Tomorrow's Saturday."

  "So?"

  "It's your busiest day," Jan said.

  "You can help me get the horses done early, and we've got to eat, anyhow. How about it?"

  Jan smiled. "Sounds good to me. I'll go invite her right now."

  "Be sure you say that it's only going to be a light supper. I don't want her expecting a gourmet feast."

  "Don't worry. I'll tell her you can't cook."

  "Who says I can't cook?" Mom yelled, but Jan just laughed as she ran off toward the big house. It felt good to be doing something sociable for a change.

  Stella greeted her at the back patio door. When Jan said she'd come to see Mattie, Stella said, "Mattie's taking a nap. I'm just about to go home for the weekend, but I could leave her a message for you."

  "Well, my mother and I want to invite her for supper tomorrow night."

  Stella clapped her hands in delight, as if the invitation were for her. "Terrific! Mattie'll be in seventh heaven to be invited out. She loves to party. I'll tell the woman who works here weekends to see to it she's ready at...?"

  "Five o'clock?"

  "Perfect. You'll come to pick her up, won't you?"

  "Sure," Jan said.

  "I wish I could see her face when she gets the invitation. She'll be so thrilled," Stella said.

  Jan walked away from the house smiling at how pleased Stella had been for Mattie's sake. Mattie's daughter might not care about her as much as she should, but other people in her life did.

  CHAPTER NINE

  Cleaning the house and making a salad in preparation for Mattie's visit distracted Jan from brooding about Dove on Saturday. That morning she had found him lying down again. Mom had wrapped his leg to try and give him some relief, and he had finally risen and hobbled to his feeder to eat.

  "Looks like he hasn't lost his appetite, anyway," Mom said. She patted Dove on his rump and went back to work. Jan had waited patiently for him to finish chewing his hay and drinking. Then she'd tried walking him around his corral on a lead line. She was still going by her father's belief that a horse needed exercise no matter what. But Dove followed her reluctantly.

  It pained her to see him limping, this horse who had been so playful that he'd toss lengths of rope and chase them all by himself. He'd watch what was going on around the barn and follow anyone walking past his corral as far as he could. Dove had only lain down voluntarily to sleep at night.

  "Come on. You'll feel better if you exercise," Jan coaxed as she tugged at the lead line.

  He didn't seem to feel better, though. He hobbled along with his head hanging, and when she gave up after a few yards of tugging at him, he sighed with relief. Was he getting worse? Jan asked herself anxiously. Without the operation, how long would it be until he couldn't stand up and move at all? Dove gave a pathetic groan and settled back down on the ground. The sound cracked open Jan's heart.

  By a quarter of five, every horse had been fed and watered. Jan told her mother, who was washing up at the kitchen sink in their casita, that she was going to pick up Mattie.

  "I'll start the fire in the grill," Mom said. "I bought a fresh bag of charcoal in case that stuff of your father's is too old to burn."

  Jan nodded. She hoped Mattie wouldn't be disappointed with hamburgers and beans, plus the tub of macaroni salad and brownies her mother had bought at the deli. "Thanks for doing this, Mom," Jan said.

  "Haven't entertained
since your father died," Mom said. "Not that I was much good at it before. But he was always bringing home people he liked."

  "I know," Jan said. Those unexpected social occasions had been fun. Dad had not only made the fires but also kept up lively conversations with the guests. She and Mom needed only to be stagehands for his performance. Jan wished he were here to run the show tonight.

  "We used to keep beer in the refrigerator for guests," Mom said anxiously. "I hope Mattie won't expect any. I didn't think of buying alcoholic beverages when I was shopping."

  "I'm sure she'll be too polite to ask, Mom. Don't worry. Mattie's easy."

  And she was. When Jan was ushered into the living room of the big house by a white-uniformed woman she'd never met, Mattie was there, sitting on the couch. She was decked out in a blue silk dress with red buttons and a red belt, so intent on chatting away at two other old ladies that she didn't notice Jan had come.

  "I'm Jo. I'm here weekends," the heavyset middle-aged woman told Jan. "Mattie's been twittering all over the place about going out with you."

  Mattie looked over her shoulder then and spotted Jan. She bobbed to her feet, caroling, "Here's my young friend! My date's come, everybody. You all have a good dinner, now. See you later." Smiling, Mattie waved at the silent assembly of women and took Jan's arm, as if she really were going off on an important date.

  Once they were outside, Mattie said, "Imagine you inviting me to your house! It's just so nice. And I have a surprise for you."

  For the first time, Jan noticed Mattie was carrying a thin rectangular box that didn't look as if it could hold more than a scarf or a pair of gloves or, most useless of all, a handkerchief. It was gift-wrapped and tied with a red bow.

  "Don't frown, now," Mattie said. She patted Jan's arm. "You're going to like this present."

  "Mattie, you don't need to bring us anything," Jan protested. "It's not that much of a meal. Mom just wants to meet you."

  "Well, I'm looking forward to meeting her. Believe you me, I am. Imagine!"