by C. S. Adler
"So I'd better meet Dove to see if he's the right horse for me," Lisa had said.
"Well, you can't ride him for months or maybe never, the way he's acting," Jan told her. "Mom says he probably expects it to hurt if he puts any weight on the leg that got fixed."
"I still want to meet him," Lisa had said.
The two girls had gone straight from the bus stop to Dove's corral.
"Boy, he's big," Lisa said when she saw Dove. "I guess moving him is like the joke about letting a two-ton gorilla sit wherever he wants. I mean, you can't pick him up. Unless you had a crane or something. What are you going to do?"
"Beats me. I've run out of ideas," Jan said. "You don't have any, do you?"
"How about if you scared him?"
Jan looked at Lisa doubtfully. "Well, we could try it."
The only scary thing Jan could think of was banging on a metal pail. She found one in a corner of the barn. If she hit it with a shovel, it should clang loud enough to spook even a horse as unflappable as Dove.
"We'd better try it in the arena, where he's got more room to run," Jan said. It took a while for her to get Dove to hobble into the arena. She had Lisa follow with the pail and shovel, staying back behind Dove, where he couldn't see her. At Jan's signal, Lisa banged away so loudly that horses' heads appeared over pipe fences and out barn stall windows all over the ranch. Dove, however, merely looked calmly over his shoulder to get a better view of the pail.
A horse neighed as if asking what was going on. Jan had to laugh as Dove nonchalantly pushed at the pail with his nose, still careful not to put any weight on his right front foot.
"I guess he's not very scareable," Lisa said.
"No, that's one of the good things about him. He doesn't spook easy."
Jan remembered that she'd asked her mother to buy some watermelon. Watermelon rind was one of Dove's favorite treats, and he never got any out of season when it became expensive. She took Lisa back to the casita. Sure enough, Mom had stowed a small hunk of plastic-wrapped watermelon in the refrigerator. Lisa looked around the tiny kitchen and living room space without commenting.
"Want some watermelon?" Jan asked.
"No, save it for Dove if he likes it so much," Lisa said. "Where do you sleep?"
"With my mother."
"I have my own room," Lisa said.
"You're lucky," Jan said.
"No, you are. You have your own horse," Lisa said. They both laughed and returned to the arena. When they tried to tempt Dove with the rind, he tossed his head and hopped toward them eagerly on three legs.
Disgusted, Jan climbed up the pipe rail fence and flopped forward over it like a rag doll.
"What's with you?" Lisa asked. "If you're trying to hang yourself, you're wrong end up."
"Very funny," Jan said. "I just don't know what to do with him." She stood straight up on the round bottom rung with her back toward Dove. "I could try lying down and playing dead," she said. "One time when Dove and I were trail riding, I took a rest by a stream, and Dove came over to sniff me. I guess he wanted to see if I was still alive."
"Now you're going to lie down in the dirt for that dumb horse that doesn't know he's cured? What if he decides to use your chest as a footrest?"
Lisa was right. It wouldn't be safe to risk having Dove step on her. "Well, you think of something, then," she said in frustration.
Lisa climbed the fence and sat on the top rail next to Jan. "When do I get to meet this grandmother-friend of yours?"
"Mattie? We could go over there and see her anytime. She's always at home. Unless she takes a walk. And then she might stop by here." It occurred to Jan that she hadn't seen Mattie since she'd gone over to report that Dove's operation had been a success. Mattie had said she was coming by when Dove got back from the hospital, but she hadn't come. Why not? Jan asked herself.
She was about to suggest they go to the big house right away when Lisa whispered, "Stay still. He's coming."
Sure enough Dove was ambling toward them, a three-legged amble, but at least he was moving on his own. He stretched his neck out and sniffed at the back of Jan's head.
"Now what? You think I stink?" Jan asked him over her shoulder.
Dove jerked his head up and did his lip-curling grin.
"I know my hair needs washing," Jan said. "But I didn't think it was that bad."
Lisa giggled and said, "You and that horse are a comedy team. I didn't know horses could smile."
"Horses are a lot more human than you'd think by looking at them," Jan said. She climbed down off the fence and pulled off Dove's halter. "I might as well leave him out here while we go see Mattie. He might forget about his leg and start moving by himself."
"I wouldn't bet on it," Lisa said. But it was worth a try and an easy thing to do.
On the way to the big house, Jan described the women who lived there. "They're really old, but they're still people, you know? I mean, just because they're old doesn't mean they're not like us anymore. I mean, they're not like you and me exactly, but—"
"But what?" Lisa was frowning.
"Well, they're individuals," Jan finished lamely.
"Isn't everybody?" Lisa asked.
Jan couldn't think of a reply to that. It shamed her to remember that not so long ago she hadn't thought of the very old as individuals.
Amelia was sitting in the shade of the ramada with her face turned to the mountains quite as if she could still see them. "That's Mattie's roommate," Jan whispered to Lisa. "She's mostly blind."
When they were standing in front of Amelia, the old woman turned toward them inquiringly. Jan said, "Hi, Amelia. Remember me? I'm Mattie's friend, Jan. I'm here with a girl from my class in school. She came to meet my horse." Amelia's blindness obliged Jan to fill in the picture with words. She stopped and waited awkwardly for a response.
Amelia said, "Hello, there. Are you here to see Mattie?"
Jan nodded, then remembered and said, "Yes."
"Well, she's gone. They took her to the nursing home." From the gloom in Amelia's tone, it sounded as if she'd said Mattie had been taken to a funeral home.
Jan gasped. "No!"
"Last weekend. She didn't get to take her things. I suppose they'll come back for them. I'm alone in the room now—for a while, anyway."
"But, Amelia, why did—What happened? Did she get sick or something?" Jan asked.
"You'll have to ask Stella. Nobody tells me anything." Amelia took out a tissue and blew her nose. "About the only thing Mattie and I agreed on was we had to keep out of that place somehow. I don't know what happened to her. All I know is they took her away." Suddenly, Amelia's cheeks crumpled and her long, thin fingers flew to screen her face.
Jan reached out to touch her shoulder in sympathy, but the tall woman shook her off in an unspoken wish to be left alone.
Quietly, Jan led Lisa into the house to look for Stella. Another attendant was there instead, an owlish lady who said she was new and that she was filling in for Stella, who'd taken a day off. When Jan asked her what had happened to Mattie, the woman said, "I don't know one of them from the other yet." Again she said, "I'm new."
"What are you so upset about?" Lisa asked as they walked away from the big house. "You look like you're going to cry."
"I've got to get Mattie out," Jan said. "It's my fault she's there. Her daughter thinks Mattie's gotten senile now because Mattie told her she lost the ring."
"I don't get you," Lisa said.
"If you're really mental or half dead, they put you in the nursing home, and then you die," Jan said. "At least that's what Amelia and Mattie think happens."
"So your grandmother-friend's dying?"
"Not if I get to her fast enough," Jan said. "I'll make them let me take her home with me. Mom will understand. We can get a folding cot and fix it up for her at night in the living room."
"Yeah, I'll bet!" Lisa said as if she thought Jan was dreaming.
But later, with Lisa standing silently beside her in the s
hed where Mom was hanging up bridles, Jan told her mother what had been done to Mattie. "Could we bring her to live with us?"
Mom chewed her lip for a minute, then said, "Well, we don't have any room or any time or any money, but ... Seems like we ought to do something if we're the cause of her trouble. Let me think about it."
"Maybe I should tell Mattie's daughter what really happened to the ring and that we're going to get it back," Jan said.
"Before we do anything," Mom said, "we had better go over to that nursing home and see what's what."
"Let's go right now."
"No," Mom said. "Right now I've got to go help the farrier shoe our prime boarder. He can't handle that horse alone. We'll go tomorrow."
"I'll stay home from school so we can go in the morning," Jan said.
"No, you won't," Mom said. "I can't leave the ranch until I finish my morning chores. What we'll do is, I'll pick you up at school after your lunch hour, and we'll go from there."
"But how do you know which nursing home she's in?" Lisa asked.
"It's got to be the one that's owned by the same organization that bought our house," Mom said. "It's where their head office is, near the old shopping mall in the middle of Tucson."
Lisa's mother honked for her from the dirt road. "I've got to go, Jan," Lisa said. "I'll see you in school. Meanwhile, if I can do anything, call me."
"Thanks, Lisa," Jan said. "I'm sorry today was such a mess."
"What do you mean? This is the most excitement I've had in weeks. I like your horse. And good luck tomorrow. Bye, Mrs. Wright." Lisa waved and ran for the car, where her mother was again tooting the horn for her.
First Dove and now Mattie, Jan thought. Was everyone who mattered most to her taking turns falling apart? She called the nursing home that night. When she asked to speak to Mattie, she was told Mattie had no phone in her room and couldn't leave her bed. "Is she sick?" Jan asked.
"What is your relationship to the patient?" the cool voice asked.
"I'm her friend."
"Sorry," the woman said. "We're not at liberty to give out information about our patients except to the immediate family."
Next time she called, Jan decided, she'd claim to be Mattie's granddaughter. It wouldn't be much of a lie. She was beginning to feel as if she really was.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
Somehow, Jan endured the stretched-out minutes of the next school day. At a quarter of two, her mother's note about the "appointment" they had to keep allowed her to escape from the building. Mom was waiting for her in the old pickup truck across the street.
"I called Mattie's daughter. Stella gave me the telephone number," Mom said.
"So what did you find out?"
"First of all, Stella told me Mattie's in the nursing home because she fell."
"Oh." Jan breathed a sigh of relief. "Then it's okay? She'll be going back to the assisted living home?"
"Well, that's not what the daughter said. She said Mattie's been having a lot of trouble lately, that she's getting forgetful and isn't doing well. She wanted to know why we were interested. I told her I was your mother and that you were Mattie's friend. She said Mattie had talked about you."
"Did she sound ... nice? The daughter?"
"Hard to say. She was kind of cautious, like she wasn't going to trust a stranger right off the bat. But she was polite."
"Mattie's not getting forgetful, not that forgetful, anyway, " Jan said. "Her daughter just thinks that because of the ring—because Mattie had to say she lost it. I've got to tell her daughter what really happened."
"Better make sure that's what Mattie wants first," Mom said.
They had arrived at the parking lot next to the three-story adobe-style building with its discreet nursing-home sign. Mom parked the truck and asked, "Want me to go in with you?"
Jan studied the boxy building with distaste. Bathed in a harsh midday sun under a clear November sky, it had all the cheerfulness of a bleached bone. She dreaded entering it alone, but she made herself say, "That's okay. I can do it.
"Well, I could use the time to buy supplies." Mom waited a beat. "You sure?"
Jan hesitated. Having Mom with her would shield her from whatever awful things were inside that place which Mattie and Amelia feared. But the least she owed Mattie was some courage. "I'll be okay, " she said finally. "I just have to go in and ask to see her, right?"
Mom nodded. "It's visiting hours. And you don't need to be a relative. I called and asked."
"And you'll pick me up back here in an hour or so?"
"An hour," Mom said. "I've got to be at the restaurant on time. Wait here in the parking lot for me." Mom's eyes assessed her. "You'll do all right, Jan," she said. "You'll do fine."
Mom's reassurance gave Jan the jump start she needed. She turned her back on the truck, marched to the front entrance, and waited while the doors slid open. A receptionist sat at a desk in the bare, saltillo-tiled lobby. The only other person there was slumped in a wheelchair. The person, a woman, Jan guessed by the housedress, looked as nearly dead as Jan had expected.
She shivered and gave her name to the receptionist, who said Mattie was up on the third floor in room 312. With her pen, she pointed the way to the elevator.
When Jan pressed the elevator button, the old woman in the wheelchair startled her by speaking without lifting her head from her chest. "Take me to four."
The elevator doors opened. "Roll me in," the old woman commanded in a deep masculine voice.
Jan was about to obey when the receptionist called to her, "Just leave her be. She likes to roam. We don't have a fourth floor here."
"Sorry," Jan whispered to the wheelchair-bound lady. She stepped into the elevator and pressed the top number, three. The old woman glared right at her, as if Jan had betrayed her. Jan's heart was pounding and her throat felt dry. She swallowed and said again, "Sorry. " Finally, the elevator door closed against the accusing eyes.
When the elevator reached three, Jan stepped out into a bare beige corridor lined with rooms whose doors stood open to reveal the most decrepit people she had ever seen. It was every bit as depressing as she had imagined. Barely living lumps of helpless humanity lay on beds or sat in chairs. She spotted a nursing station down the hall, and headed for it quickly, trying not to look into the rooms as she passed them. Though the vinyl-tiled floor seemed clean, a faint odor of urine hung in the air. Somebody was groaning. A toothless man, pushing a metal stand with plastic attachments hanging from it, shuffled past her in his bathrobe.
Just before she reached the nursing station, Jan spotted room number 312 out of the corner of her eye. With relief, she ducked into it. And there was Mattie. She looked incredibly small lying in bed, covered to her chest by a sheet. Her eyes were closed, and her hair was stuck together in wisps on her pale scalp. Trembling, Jan approached her.
"Mattie, " she said. "Mattie. It's me, your friend, Jan."
Mattie's eyes opened. She squinted at Jan with a pained expression as if she didn't know who she was. Then she sighed and smiled. "Oh, hi, honey. What're you doing here?"
"Visiting you."
"Where am I, then? I don't know this place. It scares me."
"Well, it's sort of a hospital," Jan said. "But you'll get out of here as soon as you're well."
"I'm sick?"
"They said you fell."
Mattie thought about it. "I don't remember. But my bottom hurts. I can't move it too well. You say I fell?"
"That's what I heard."
"Well, that'd explain it, then. How long do I have to stay here?"
"I don't know. Until your bones knit back together, I guess. Want me to ask someone?"
"Not now. Don't leave me. It does me good just to see your sweet face. You're such a pretty girl."
"Mattie, I'm not. I'm too tall and my face is too long."
"Now, you telling me I can't see well anymore, either?" Mattie asked with a return of her old spunk. "You're supposed to smile and say thank you when someone giv
es you a compliment." Mattie reached out her small hand and Jan closed her fingers around it. The hand felt so dry and fragile that Jan feared it would break if she squeezed too hard.
"So, now, how's your horse doing?" Mattie asked.
"The vet says the operation was a success and Dove should be fine, but I can't get him to walk. He probably still thinks his leg'll hurt him if he puts weight on it."
Mattie chuckled. "I know just how he feels. You tell him I asked after him and give him a pat for me, hear?"
"I will."
"He'll be all right, Mattie added. "He's not going to stand around on three legs forever, not young as he is.
"I hope not."
"And I'm here because...?"
"Because you fell."
"But I'm not going to stay?"
"No. Even if your daughter doesn't—Well, I think Mom will let you come live with us if it doesn't work out for you to go back to the big house. Like if they get another roommate for Amelia or something," Jan fabricated quickly.
"Oh, Amelia. She ask about me?"
"She doesn't know what happened to you except they took you away."
Mattie smiled and said, "Yes, she probably expects I'm as good as dead. That Amelia always thinks the worst."
Jan laughed. It was true Amelia was something of a pessimist.
"Well, I'll come visit you as much as I can until you get well enough to leave here," Jan promised. "But don't expect me every day because I have to get someone to drive me, and you know how busy Mom is."
"Don't you worry about it. I'll be fine now that I know you're waiting for me. But, honey, one thing we've gotta do."
Mattie made as if to sit up in bed. A spasm of pain crossed her face and she squeezed her eyelids shut for a minute. Jan made a sympathetic sound. She could feel the pain reflected in her own bones. Mattie opened her eyes and said, "It's okay. Just whatever I broke hurts some. But listen, what I want to say is—" She hesitated and seemed to be searching inside her head.