Wounded

by Percival Everett

  “I’m fine,” he said, gruffly. “That bus ride took it out of me. I’ll be down in a while.”

  “You bet. No rush.”

  I walked back down the stairs and into the kitchen. David was in the mud room, pulling on his boots.

  “How is he?” Morgan asked.

  “I think he’s just tired. He said he’ll be down soon.”

  “Maybe I should take him up some juice,” she said.

  I shook my head. “I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

  Morgan understood and went back to the counter. “See you later, sweetie,” I said, giving her a kiss on the cheek. “Sure you won’t come?”

  “Have a good ride.”

  “Ready to ride, cowboy?” I stepped out of my house shoes and into my own boots. “Let’s go pop some brush.”

  David, like many people on their second time in the saddle, was tense and trying to feel in control, so he held the reins short in a tight fist and clamped his legs around the horse.

  “Let her have her head,” I said. “Give her some slack. Relax your body. Let it go.” I took a deep breath and let it out to show him.

  He eased up.

  “Take another breath,” I said. “Let it all out.”

  He did.

  “Now, you relax and let the horse do the walking.”

  We rode out through the south gate and toward the hills.

  “How’d you sleep?” I asked.

  “Pretty well. That room is nice and warm.”

  “It’s the warmest room in the house and I have no idea why. It’s a little tight in there, I know.”

  We rode on a ways and David began to relax a little with the App. She was a good horse, but she was still a thousand pounds of nonthinking muscle and I didn’t want David to forget that.

  We started up a slope, my horse following his. “Take your downhill foot out of the stirrup on the steep. That way, if something goes bad you’ll fall to the closest ground and not under the horse.”

  That made David tense up again.

  “I told you that because it’s true and because you should never forget you’re on a horse when you are, in fact, on a horse.”

  “Have you ever been hurt on a horse?” David asked.

  “Sure.” I looked down the hillside at the frozen creek. I thought about Susie and didn’t say anything else.

  “John?”

  “Yeah?”

  “Something wrong?”

  “No, not at all. How are you doing up there?”

  “Good. I feel pretty good.” He looked up the slope. “What kind of animals do you have around here?”

  “Elk, antelope, deer, the occasional mountain sheep. We have bears, black and grizzly. They’re all sleeping right now. And of course we have coyotes and a wolf now and again.”

  “Everything is so beautiful,” he said.

  “Take the trail to the left,” I told him. “I want to show you something.”

  We followed the trail to a ridge that overlooked a lower hill and beyond that was the Red Desert, red in the midday light, just like its name implied, stretching out forever, a butte standing sentinel in the middle of it.

  “My god,” David said.

  “This is why I live here,” I said. “Every time I come up here and look at that I know my place in the world. It’s okay to love something bigger than yourself without fearing it. Anything worth loving is bigger than we are anyway.”

  “That sounds almost religious,” David said.

  “I wouldn’t know anything about religion,” I said. “I know this is my life and this is my place.”

  “My mother is a Catholic,” David said.

  I nodded.

  “She’s full of guilt. I don’t think her religion makes her happy.”

  “Well, that’s no good,” I said. “Come on, let’s head back. I’m starting to feel the cold.”

  Gus was up and playing with the coyote, who had taken to the game of fetch. Gus would slide a balled-up sock across the kitchen linoleum and the puppy would scamper after it, grab it, and then demonstrate her instinct by shaking the thing until dead. Only then would she drag the by-now-unrolled sock back to Gus.

  “What a gorgeous day,” I said, looking out the window.

  Gus balled up the sock and threw it again. “Do you want green beans or spinach with dinner?” he asked.

  “Whatever you want,” I said. “Where’s Morgan?”

  “She’s in the study going over her mother’s papers.” Gus groaned as he pushed himself up from a knee and into a chair. “Speaking of which, I’ve got some papers I want to go over with you.”

  “Okay,” I said.

  “How’s the boy?” Gus asked.

  “He’s good. I’ve got him out there grooming a couple of animals.”

  The phone rang and I picked up. It was Howard.

  “Almost Happy New Year,” I said.

  “So, how do I get to your place from Highland?” he asked.

  “Excuse me?”

  “Surprise. I’m in Highland. I rented a car in Denver and here I am. How do I get there?”

  I gave him directions. “See you in a while,” I said. As I hung up David came into the house, sat on the bench in the mud room, and began to remove his boots.

  “What is it?” he asked, noticing what must have been puzzlement on my face. “What’s going on?”

  “It seems your father is on his way here.”

  “What are you talking about?”

  “He just called. He flew to Denver, rented a car, and now he’s in Highland. He’ll be here in about an hour.”

  “Fuck,” David said.

  I nodded.

  “Fuck,” he repeated and walked away in his stocking feet toward his room in the back.

  Morgan came in. “What was that all about?”

  Gus said, “We’re having company. The boy’s father is on his way.” He turned to me. “Put on some tea water.”

  TEN

  THE DAY HAD GONE SOUR in more ways than one. The sky had turned slate gray and was beginning to spawn fat snowflakes. Weather Wally had actually predicted heavy snow and the face of the day had caused me to summarily dismiss him. I was standing out in front of the house in the near dark watching the storm get bad. It had been two hours since Howard’s call and I was growing concerned. Zoe and the pup were out sniffing and taking care of matters.

  David came out and joined me. “It’s so cold.”

  “This is blowing in out of the north. I sure didn’t see it coming. Maybe you should go back inside.”

  “No, I’m okay. Hey, I wanted to thank you for the ride today. That was great, beautiful.”

  “You’re welcome. You looked good on horseback. How’d it feel?”

  “Better. Not bad, really.” He jumped a little to keep warm. “I liked it. Jesus, I’ve never been this cold.” He looked at the snow in the sky above us. “John, have you ever been hurt on a horse?”

  “Sure. But hell, you can get hurt getting out of the bathtub, but you’re not going to stop taking baths.” I looked at the boy’s face. “My wife was killed by a horse. Actually, she caused it. She tried to get on a horse that wasn’t ready when she wasn’t ready and things got bad in a hurry.”

  “Jesus.”

  “Six years ago. I miss her.” I spotted headlights on the ridge. “There he is,” I said. “You’re sure you’re all right?”

  “I’ll be okay. I’m a little nervous.”

  I nodded.

  He pulled his jacket tighter around his body.

  “It’s going to get colder, too,” I told him.

  The car bounced along the drive toward us and stopped. Howard got out and so did a woman.

  “Who’s that?” David asked me, softly.

  “I don’t know,” I whispered. The woman was wrapped in a long down coat and her blond hair squirted from the edges of her fuzzy cap. I walked toward Howard. David hung back.

  “John!” Howard greeted me with a hug. “John, I’d like you to
meet Pamela. Pamela this is the famous John Hunt.”

  “Hey, John,” Pamela said. She was young, young enough that I took time to think that she was young.

  Howard had the back door open and was pulling out a couple of bags. “The drive over here was a mess. The snow is getting bad.”

  “Let me take one of those,” I said.

  “No, I wouldn’t hear of it,” Howard said. He turned and looked toward David and the house.

  “And is that my son?”

  “Hi, Dad.”

  I wrested one of the bags away from Howard anyway. He walked with Pamela toward the house. I followed.

  “Pamela, this is my son, David.”

  “David, this is Pamela.”

  David nodded a greeting. Howard tried awkwardly to hug his son while he held a bag slung over his shoulder.

  “Let’s get inside where it’s warm,” I said. David led the way and I brought up the rear. I cast a glance at the snowy night, before entering. Howard made all the introductions. Pamela was even younger in full light. If she was older than David, it was only by months.

  “What a sweet house,” Pamela said. She unbuttoned her big lavender coat and peeled out of it. She needed the coat. The blouse she wore worked hard to contain her breasts and her low-slung jeans revealed occasional flashes of her navel. Her boots were oddly appropriate for the weather.

  Morgan showed absolutely no reaction, good horsewoman that she was, but Gus turned away and walked into the kitchen. He said over his shoulder that he would put on some coffee and water for tea.

  “I’m very pleased to meet you, Morgan,” Howard said.

  “Me, too.” Morgan looked at the luggage. “You’ll be sleeping in the study. It’s a sofa bed and we hope it doesn’t kill you.”

  “We’ll be fine,” Howard said. “Won’t we, Pamela?”

  “Of course,” Pamela said.

  David stood at a distance and watched, his face fairly blank. His eyes were angry, his body showed fear, his fingers tapping against his thigh, his Adam’s apple moving with his swallowing.

  “I’ll help Gus while Morgan shows you the study,” I said. I walked into the kitchen and closed the door.

  “That young lady needs to put on some clothes,” Gus said. Gus shook his head. “What is that man thinking? Why’d he bring her here?”

  “I don’t know, Gus.”

  “Why is he here at all?”

  I shrugged.

  David came into the room.

  “How are you?” I asked.

  David barked out a laugh.

  “That’s what I say,” Gus said.

  Morgan came into the kitchen, looked behind herself as she closed the door. “What is wrong with that man?” she asked. “They’re freshening up.”

  “I hope that means getting dressed,” Gus said.

  “Thank you,” Morgan said.

  “I’m sorry, David,” I said.

  “Why is he here?” David walked to the window and looked out at the snow. “Hell, he can’t even leave now.”

  “Got that right,” Gus said. He sat at the table and whistled for the coyote. Emily came and sat to have her head stroked.

  “Well, they’re here,” I said. “Let’s make the best of it. Gus, do we have enough food?”

  “Plenty of food,” Gus said.

  “They’re coming,” Morgan said and stepped away from the door toward me.

  “That room will be just fine,” Howard said.

  “It’s sweet,” Pamela said. “It has a real, ranchy, rustic feel. And I like all the wood.” Then she spotted the puppy under Gus’s hand. “Oh, look at the puppy. What kind of puppy?” She made kissing sounds to call the dog, but as long as Gus was touching her, she was not moving.

  Gus stopped petting Emily. “She’s a coyote,” he said. “Her mother was killed and she lost her leg.”

  “Oh, poor thing.” Pamela squatted and I was fearful her breast would pop free. She kissed again and this time the puppy hopped over to her. “Poor thing,” she said again.

  Zoe watched from the corner, stretched out on her bed. She was attending mainly to David, I assumed because he appeared upset.

  The coyote wandered away in midstroke and sat again beside Gus.

  “You’re welcome to build a fire in the little stove,” I said. “The big stove in the other room keeps things pretty warm, but that one’s nice when lit.”

  “Thank you,” Pamela said.

  Howard walked over and put his arm over David’s shoulder. “It’s good to see you, son. I came so I could have a little time with you.”

  David looked at his father and then at Pamela. “I promised Gus I’d help get the meal ready right now.”

  “Of course,” Howard said. Then he looked at me. “Oh yeah. Pammy, would you run to the room and get that gift?”

  Pamela left the kitchen.

  “I brought you a little something,” Howard said. “This is a really nice place. I’m looking forward to seeing it in the light.”

  “I talked to Mom,” David said.

  “And how is she?” Howard asked.

  “She sounds really strong now,” David said. “Like she’s found herself somehow.”

  “That’s great,” Howard said. “That’s what I always wanted for her.”

  Pamela came back into the room and handed me a wrapped bottle. I thanked her and stared at the blue ribbon.

  “Open it,” Howard said. “It’s a bottle of Scotch. I thought I remembered that you like Scotch.”

  “Thank you.” I peeled down the paper and looked at the label. “Glenturret,” I read. “I’ve never heard of that.”

  “It’s a nineteen-eighty,” Pamela said. “It’s aged in special cherrywood barrels. It’s got a nice flavor.”

  “Thank you. What a nice gift.”

  “Pamela knows all about whiskys and wines,” Howard said.

  “I’ll bet,” David said.

  “Is that your business?” Morgan asked.

  “No, just a hobby,” Pamela said.

  “What is your business?” David asked.

  “Our flight into Denver was as smooth as silk,” Howard said. “That’s some airport. We had a little trouble with the rental car. You see they stuck us in that midsize. I reserved an SUV, but they screwed it up. It would have been good on a night like tonight.”

  “No kidding,” David said.

  “Why don’t we go into the other room and let Gus get on with the meal,” Morgan said.

  “That’s a good idea,” Gus said. Then, to David, “And you stay in here and help me, youngblood.”

  Morgan followed Pamela and Howard out of the kitchen. I started after them and stopped at the door. “Are you okay, David?”

  David nodded.

  The guests, Morgan and I sat in the living room. The stove doors were open and the fire actually looked beautiful.

  “It’s like a postcard,” Pamela said.

  “Let’s break open that Scotch,” Howard said.

  “I’ll get it,” Morgan said. She touched my leg as she got up.

  “So, it was a messy drive,” I said.

  “Just awful,” Howard said. “I could hardly see the road.” He looked at Pamela beside him. “But Pamela helped. Right, Pammy? We got gas in that funny little station at the edge of town. I went in to pay first and he told me to go ahead and pump it and then come back and pay.”

  “So trusting,” Pamela said.

  “You don’t do that in New York, I can tell you that.” Howard smiled at Morgan’s reappearance with the whisky. “There we are.”

  Morgan put the tray with the bottle and glasses on the coffee table. “I thought I’d let you pour your own. I’m having water.”

  “If you don’t mind,” I said, “I’ll have water as well.”

  “It is early,” Howard said. “But it was a long drive.” He leaned forward and poured a little into two glasses.

  Morgan poured half her water into my glass.

  “To the new year,” H
oward said.

  We touched glasses and drank.

  “That’s exquisite,” Howard said. “You’ll have to try this later.”

  I nodded. “So, how is the law business?”

  “Boring. Basically, I don’t like my clients. Every one of them thinks that he is my only client. They call me at home and expect me to remember the details of their particular cases.”

  “Howard is a tax attorney,” I told Morgan. “In college, he wanted to be a civil rights lawyer.”

  “So, what happened?” Pamela asked Howard.

  “Marriage and kid,” Howard said, flatly. He leaned forward and poured himself a little more Scotch. “When you’re young, it’s easy to be idealistic. It doesn’t cost anything. Now, John here, he’s managed to stay idealistic. He said he wanted to live on a ranch with horses and that’s what he’s done. But John isn’t like the rest of us. He built this place all by himself.”

  “I had plenty of help,” I said.

  “That’s a John thing to say.” Howard laughed. “This man is amazing. He’s always been better than me at everything. Well, part of it was that he claimed to not want as much, but I don’t know if that was true. What do you think, John?”

  I shrugged. I didn’t know what to make of his words or even the situation for that matter, perhaps especially the situation. I looked at Morgan and I could tell that if she knew of something to help me out, she would have been doing it. I had a mind to excuse myself to the kitchen for some reason or another, but I couldn’t bring myself to leave Morgan alone with them.

  “What do you do?” Morgan asked Pamela.

  “I’m a paralegal,” Pamela said. She said it without conviction, as if in some way it was not true.

  “Pammy used to work in my firm, but no longer.”

  “I hope there was no problem,” Morgan said.

  “Only that we’re getting married,” Howard said. “My firm has a policy against fraternization.”

  “Congratulations, Howard,” I said. “I don’t suppose David knows anything about this yet?”

  Howard shook his head.

  We sat quietly for a while. Pamela reached over and held Howard’s hand. I studied the man. He had been a friend for a long time and in all that time I was always confused about why he was my friend. We had little in common, aesthetically, socially or politically, and we’d never run in the same circles. Still, I had been the best man at his wedding and I was called the godfather of his son, though there was never any official church business. Susie had always flat-out hated him. Right at that second I was finding him somewhat objectionable and it made me feel bad about myself.