The Girlfriend Curse

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The Girlfriend Curse Page 20

by Valerie Frankel


  The country internist laughed lushly at that. Linus joined him. Their mirth was pure, unadulterated neighborly affection. And why not? Dr. Andy was getting a free pasture cleanup. Peg could only imagine how he would repay Linus for the favor. Perhaps once the Inward Bounders finished their hours of hard labor, they’d require medical attention.

  Ben said, “Okay, team. To the field!”

  Patsylike, Peg followed her leader. She watched Ray out of the corner of her eye. He seemed particularly quiet and subdued, taking direction from Luke with the mindless acquiescence of a teenage Nazi. His eye was still puffy, his back crooked. Peg had yet to apologize to him. She was waiting for the right moment.

  That came three hours later, after both teams had used the medieval stable fork to hoist their respective bales of hay into the loft. The score was tied. Team Two had been at a disadvantage, since Gloria appointed herself caretaker of the stable’s five horses, who “might be scared,” she said, “by the hay, which I’m allergic to.”

  Ben said, “Horses eat hay. They aren’t afraid of it. Are people afraid of french fries?”

  Peg, for one, had never encountered a scary french fry, but Gloria insisted that she stay in the stable and soothe the horses, not one of which deviated from its hectic morning schedule of chewing, crapping, twitching and swatting flies with its tail.

  Linus said, “We’ll have to break the tie. Any suggestions?”

  Peg said, “How about a race?”

  “Excellent idea,” agreed Linus. “Each team, appoint one runner. Twice around the training ring should do it.”

  The training ring was about a quarter-mile long, by Peg’s estimate. She volunteered herself. Tracy and Ben agreed. Team Two chose Ray. Linus counted down from four, and they were off.

  Ray took an early lead. Peg expected him to. She didn’t have speed, but she had endurance. As she ran, mud splattering her legs, her old rhythm returned to her. She felt good. The movement seemed to ease her back pain, too.

  After one lap, Ray slowed considerably. Peg knew he would. He had nice muscles, but he didn’t have conditioning. Midway through lap two, Ray was just jogging, and panting. Peg, pacing evenly, ran up alongside him.

  “I haven’t had a chance to apologize for what I said last night,” she offered.

  He could barely speak from breathing hard. “Forget it,” he said.

  “I’m sorry for embarrassing you in front of everyone.”

  He had the wind only to wave.

  “It was unconscionable of me to say that you are threatened by women. Or that you are insecure in your masculinity. Anyone can see how virile and potent you are.”

  Ray wheezed.

  “So you forgive me?” He nodded. “See you at the finish line,” she said, and then she blew him away, sprinting the last thirty yards.

  Team One cheered. Peg walked over to Tracy and Ben and accepted their congratulations. Ray stopped jogging, and walked the last stretch. Peg noticed he was limping.

  Linus did, too. “Ray? You okay?”

  He said, “I think I sprained something.”

  The bandage was wrapped tight around Ray’s right calf. Peg noticed it immediately as he swung his lame leg out of the cab of Linus’s pickup, and limped toward the mansion’s front door.

  “Are you okay?” she asked Ray. “What can I do?”

  Ray said, “Stay away from me.” And then he limped past her, into the house.

  Linus was close behind. He said, “Dr. Andy thought he might have pulled a muscle, but there was no swelling or redness.”

  No sign of actual injury? Ray was faking? “So what’s with the bandage?” she asked Linus.

  “He needs the support,” said Linus. “And he’s going to get it from me, and you, too, Peg.”

  She studied Linus’s face, his blue eyes, the encouraging grin. He was asking her to have a heart, to be kind and generous. To see that Ray’s journey Inward was just as difficult as hers. Instead of being antipathetic, she should be sympathetic. Linus said all this without words, without making a sound. The swell of telepathic perception in her head made her feel lighter.

  Peg said, “I’ll do whatever you say.”

  Linus said, “Anything?”

  She smiled.

  “Good,” said Linus. “Go rake the compost.”

  Peg raked the compost.

  Much-married granny Donna Judd, said, “I made cookies.”

  The Inward Bounders each took a cookie.

  Donna said, “Come on in.”

  The group walked into Donna’s used bookstore. She said, “I heard you rolled hay yesterday. That’s hard work. You’ll have a much easier time today.”

  Peg exhaled. Maybe the day’s assignment was to read. She wondered if Donna had any Chuck Palahniuk novels.

  “Girls against the boys,” said Donna. “You’ve got two hours. Whichever team alphabetizes the most shelves wins.”

  “Fantastic,” said Ben. “I was president of the Hartford Library Association in 2001. I can alphabetize blindfolded.”

  Gloria said, “I’m allergic to books.”

  Donna laughed. “Don’t be ridiculous, dear.”

  The old woman directed each Inward Bounder to a zone. Peg got the space by the window in back. Donna flitted around (she didn’t get too many customers, Peg noticed), dishing out more cookies.

  Eventually, Donna found her way to Peg’s zone. “So this is your payback from Linus for speaking to the group the other day,” said Peg. Vermont trade seemed to be redeemable favors in kind. It was socialism on a dollhouse scale. No wonder locals referred to their state as the People’s Republic of Vermont.

  The old woman smiled, her face crunching into a network of wrinkles. “Linus is such a wonderful man,” she said. “But I don’t need to tell you that, do I, Peg?”

  “You remember my name?”

  “Of course,” said Donna. “I don’t meet many new people, so when I do, I make a study of it. Especially a girl like you— so pretty, so full of life. I asked Linus about you. He told me you’ve moved to Manshire.”

  “What else did he say about me?” she couldn’t help asking.

  Donna grinned. “What else?”

  “Forget it,” she said.

  “He did tell me one thing,” said Donna.

  “What?” asked Peg, too eagerly. That he was attracted to her? That he was being tough on her for her own good? That, when the program was over, he’d ask her on a date?

  Leaning close, Donna said, “He told me that you would be an excellent alphabetizer. And I can already see that he was right!” Then she added, “Linus is always right.”

  “Yes, his name should be Mr. Right,” said Peg. “On second thought, scratch that.”

  “Miss New Jersey!” said Manshire Sheriff A. M. Call, pumping Peg’s hand in greeting. “Good to see you. Dressed again, I see.”

  The other Inward Bounders looked at her questioningly. She said, “The pleasure is all mine, Sheriff.”

  The Inward Bounders had arrived early on Thursday morning at a Manshire sheep farm for the day’s team contest. Apparently, Artemis Call owned the place.

  Linus said, “Peg has been looking forward to repaying you for your help last week.” Peg had no idea Linus knew about her near-arrest at the Sunbridge Fair. So this was payback for Artemis’s help. And the wheel of favor turned again.

  Artemis cut to the chase. “Okay, people. Today, you’re going to live-wire a fence.”

  Peg said, “We’re stealing a fence?”

  Linus explained, “Not hot-wire. Live-wire. We’re putting up an electrically changed line to keep coyotes and wolves out, sheep in.”

  “I’m definitely allergic to wolves,” said Gloria.

  “Will you please shut up?” asked Tracy.

  “She’s the girl who cried allergic-to-wolf,” said Ben.

  “Leave her alone,” snapped Ray, moving to Gloria’s side.

  Gloria smiled at him. He returned it, and looked rather handsome despite his stil
l swollen features, bandaged leg and crooked back.

  Artemis, who seemed much friendlier without a gun strapped to his belt, led the group behind his log cabin, to the sheep pasture. Peg was impressed with his lush flower bed around back with waning pink and white peonies and just popping poppies of red and orange. Artemis had a green thumb. Instead of his uniform, he wore a pair of khaki shorts that flattered his legs, and a chambray work shirt. Wisely, he’d slipped ankle-cut rubber Wellies on his feet. Peg wished she hadn’t worn sneakers for a trip into a sheep pasture, piles of round pellets everywhere.

  “Ewwww,” said Peg, stepping in one. “I mean, ewe.”

  The sheep made up for the sloppy conditions. The flock was so fucking cute. They jumped and skipped and frolicked in the sun. Peg’s heart leapt right along with them. She’d spent countless childhood weekend afternoons at the Central Park petting zoo, feeding the goats, sheep and cows. Seeing these neatly shorn sheep jumping around the pasture was like a hug from Mom and Dad. She missed them badly all of the sudden, and had to put sunglasses on quickly before anyone saw.

  Too late. “The sheep get to me, too,” said Wilma. “They’re innocent, like babies.”

  “Especially those little lambs,” said Peg. The sheep seemed to be divided into adult and child pens. “Why are they separated?”

  “The lambs are weaned, and it’s best to keep them away from the mating adults,” said Wilma. “They’ll be slaughtered in a month anyway. Don’t look so surprised. Those lamb chops you pay forty dollars for in New York have to come from somewhere.”

  Artemis appeared at Peg’s side. “Don’t you get sad?” she asked. “Killing them?”

  The sheriff said, “These animals aren’t pets. They’re food. They cost a fortune to keep. I’ve got mortgage payments. If I don’t eat them, they’ll eat me.”

  Although Peg got his point, after five minutes of watching these frisky cuties cavort and gambol, stupidly, without any clue that they’d soon be mass murdered for their meat, she vowed never to eat lamb again.

  Artemis gathered the group around and explained the job. “Coyote problem this year. They got a couple of lambs. I’ve got to take preventative measures, live-wire the fence. Forty volts should do it.”

  “Will that kill?” asked Gloria.

  “Nope,” said Artemis. “It won’t kill, but it’ll hurt.”

  “How painful is it?” asked Ben.

  “Want to find out?”

  None of them did. Artemis said, “You won’t be in any danger installing the fence. I won’t connect it to the generator until you’re done. Now, Linus tells me you’ve been put into teams all week. Today, it’s going to be a bit different. I’m going to observe your individual work and decide who among you worked the best.”

  Linus said, “The winner gets five pounds of ground lamb.”

  “What do the losers get?” asked Peg. “Ten pounds?”

  Wilma found a place in the sun to sit. She had a folder and a manuscript with her—her dissertation, had to be. Linus and Artemis gave the group a crash course on fence maintenance and conductivity. The wire itself, which they were to thread through plastic hooks along the posts, was a flat strip of plastic with a pink strand running in the middle. It was so flimsy and light, Peg found it hard to believe that brushing up against it would drop a coyote to its knees.

  The first step was to nail the hooks into over two hundred posts. The Inward Bounders set off with individual buckets full of hooks and a hammer, each assigned a zone. Peg went deep into the pasture. She got into hammering. The resounding thud, the shudder of muscle up her arm. A couple of times, a curious sheep tip-hoofed toward her, and then dashed away when she turned to look.

  She emptied her bucket and walked back toward the house, as did the rest of the crew. Next step: thread the wire into the hooks. They were each given a spool of wire and sent back to their zones. Artemis and Linus linked the wires, one section to the next, until all six wires were connected.

  Peg noticed that some of the sheep had streaks of color on their backs and chests. She asked Artemis about it.

  “I use color chalk to mark the rams’ chests. Different color on each one,” he said.

  “So you can tell them apart,” said Peg.

  “I can tell them apart by looking at them,” said Artemis. “I chalk the males so I know which of the ewes has been mounted, and by which ram.” Sure enough, many of the sheep had smears of color on their backs. He said, “Look at that one,” pointing to a ewe whose back was a rainbow of chalk. “She’s been mounted by nearly every ram here.”

  “That slut,” said Peg.

  “She’s go no choice,” said Artemis. “If one ram mounts a female, then the others want to mount her, too.”

  Peg was sure there was some evolutionary explanation for such gangbanging (a survival-of-the-fittest sperm battle was waged inside the female’s womb?). Tracy and Gloria wandered over to Peg. She pointed out the sheep’s chalk markings and said, “If one male fucks a female, the other males want a piece of her action, too.”

  “Men are so predictable,” said Tracy.

  Peg thought of Donna, and her many husbands. She thought back on her own sexual history. Not that she was proud of it, but Peg had fucked a few sets of brothers and best friends. Never at the same time, though usually within a few months of each other. Peg had assumed that the decisions had always been hers to make. But now, watching the sheep, she had to wonder how many of those choices had been made for her. How often she’d been seduced for bragging rights.

  Artemis broke her depressing train of thought by waving everyone in. The fence was wired and now he would hook up the end pieces to the generator, a metal box the size of a shipping trunk, parked outside the main gate. The group gathered to watch the thrilling finale. Peg wondered if sparks would fly, if she would hear a sizzle.

  Artemis lifted the lid of the generator’s casing, connected the wires to a battery, flipped a toggle switch, closed the lid and said, “We’re live.”

  “That’s it?” asked Gloria.

  “No flying sparks?” asked Peg. “No sizzle?”

  “You want to test it?” asked Artemis. “Go right ahead.”

  The Inward Bounders picked up pebbles and leaves and sticks and threw them at the wire. They’d bounced off and fell to the ground.

  “Are you sure this is on?” asked Peg.

  “I’m sure,” said Artemis. “Linus and I are going inside to pick a winner. The rest of you: Have a beer.” He pointed out a cooler by the house. “Long Trail Double Bag,” he said, naming one of Vermont’s five million microbrews.

  Artemis and Linus left. Gloria found a shady spot, protecting her delicate skin from the sun. Peg noticed that both Ray and Luke watched her go.

  “I don’t believe this wire is live,” said Ray suddenly.

  Ben said, “Why don’t you touch it and find out?”

  “You touch it.”

  “No way,” said Ben. “I’ll give you twenty bucks if you do.”

  “Are you men—or mental?” asked Tracy.

  Ray said, “I’m doing it.”

  He reached out his hand, inches from the wire.

  They all screamed. He pulled back, laughing.

  “You don’t have anything to prove, Ray,” said Peg. “You’re not going to be more of a man by electrocuting yourself. You’ll just be more of an asshole.”

  “If that’s possible,” said Tracy into Peg’s ear.

  Ben said, “I don’t know, Peg. Electrocuting himself certainly takes balls.”

  “Which will shrivel into walnuts,” said Peg.

  “What do you care?” asked Ray. “You’ll never see them.”

  “Go ahead, then.” Remembering that Linus had asked her to be sympathetic, Peg backpedaled. “No, don’t. Let’s get a beer instead.”

  Ray said, “Aren’t any of you curious what it would feel like?”

  Ben said, “What are you waiting for?”

  “This is ridiculous,” said Tracy.r />
  Ben said, “It won’t kill him.”

  Ray reached forward with his index finger. A centimeter away from the wire. Closer, and closer. Tracy and Peg screaming. Ben and Ray laughed at their distress. Ray reached forward, pulled back, taunting them.

  “Okay,” said Ray. “I’m really going to do it this time.”

  He moved within a hair-width of the wire, his mouth in a grimace, bracing himself, his swollen lid narrowing. Peg couldn’t stand it. She lunged forward and swatted away Ray’s hand. A valiant gesture. Inspired by continuing guilt about Ray’s eye, his calf muscle, his emotional unraveling. But a misguided gesture. Surely, a misguided swat. And Peg would have been kicking herself for doing it at all, if she weren’t lying on the ground, twitching.

  In batting away Ray’s finger, her own wrist grazed the wire, sending forty volts of electricity through her body. A hot, yellow-and-orange flash of fire rocketed from her wrist, down her arm to her toes and back up to the tip of each hair on her head. And then it stopped, leaving the brittle, smoking, tinny essence of pain in her teeth and spine, and smoke pouring out of her ears (that was how it felt anyway). She didn’t remembered falling.

  Tracy shrieked. Ben was on his knees at Peg’s side, slapping her cheeks harder than was necessary. Ray stood motionless, until Luke dropped him to the ground, pressing a knee against his spine. Ray screamed for mercy. Luke’s expression was stony, merciless.

  Linus was behind Peg now, lifting her to her feet, telling her to walk. Her legs felt noodley. Linus put his arm tightly around her waist. He lugged her forward until she regained a micron of strength and could take a step. She looked at him, his mouth moving in slow motion. Linus seemed panicked, furious.

  He said gently, “You’ll be fine. I’ve been shocked many times. You’ll be okay.” He turned her around, making her walk, keeping the patter going.

  Facing the group again, Peg watched Artemis pull Luke off Ray, then whisper something to both men. From Ray’s ashen skin, Peg imagined Artemis had made some soft-spoken threats of country justice. Tracy and Ben were frantically retelling the story to Wilma and Gloria. Luke stood back, arms folded across his chest.

  Peg said to Linus, “As horrible as that was, I’m glad it happened.”

 

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