Horse
Page 4
* * *
—
Teagan told her family about the escaped cat. Robert suggested he had slipped out the night before. Charlie had fed them and said that he’d shut the door on both cats. There was no explanation except that the cat had climbed the wall. Robert said it was possible, a cat that size. The next morning Slinky was alone again. Teagan climbed to the hayloft and collected the big cat, again. As soon as she dropped him on the tack room floor, he sprang up onto a saddle, then leapt up the wall and caught the lip of the gap into the hayloft. He slipped through it. Teagan put his food bowl in the hayloft.
Susanna said the only thing to do was to let the other one out, too, and maybe they would decide to stay. Neither cat was seen for two days. Susanna said that it was money down the drain, but Robert said that they would be back. One evening both cats were eating from their bowls. After that, Susanna said she thought the pigeons were gone.
Teeth
Teagan and Charlie were making sandwiches. Jars, a pack of cheese, a bag of cold cuts, lettuce, and tomatoes sat out. Susanna dropped her purse on the counter and tightened the lid on the mayonnaise and stuck it in the fridge.
“I need that,” Charlie said, taking it out again.
Susanna sealed up the pack of cheese.
“Can I have that?” Teagan took it from her hand.
“Two hundred dollars, medicines for two weeks, and the big cat has to have teeth pulled.”
Charlie laughed, pressing his sandwich together with his hand.
“These are the most expensive cats I’ve ever heard of,” Susanna said, sweeping crumbs off the counter and into her hand. She shook them into the sink.
“Well, at least they get to live, and I haven’t seen any pigeons,” Teagan said.
“A cat with no teeth is supposed to catch pigeons,” Susanna said, running the tap.
“He’ll have to gum them to death,” Charlie said.
“Gums!” Teagan said, raising a knife like she was making a toast.
“That’s it. Gums. That’s perfect,” Charlie said.
“Purr-fect,” Teagan said, licking the knife.
“A geriatric, toothless cat. This is what I pay money for?” Susanna said.
“Mom, can I make you a sandwich?” Charlie offered.
Roof
I know the sky above the mountain. Sometimes clouds seem to catch on the hills. I know the rain sky, soft gray. I know the morning and night sky. The sky is constantly shifting, but the mountain is regular, like a clock: winding through seasons. Fall reds and yellows start at the top. Spring greens and purples start at the bottom. Fall down. Spring up.
The barn is often the same. It smells of hay, grain, dust. The hayloft fills and empties. In winter, even with bales stacked to the ceiling, the air in there is cold. In summer, even empty, the loft feels hot and dense. Anytime, I can move through it without thinking. My hands and feet climb the wood ladder rungs. My fingers untie the baling twine that winds around a metal latch that the wind would otherwise unlock. The door opens to the roof.
Truck
“What time can your mom drop you off?” Teagan said, holding the phone against her shoulder with her cheek and spreading peanut butter on bread. “Okay. I’m sure that’s fine. My mom’s not in the house right now. I don’t know where she is. But she said it was okay. Are you spending the night? We could camp if you want. Just in the woods. I have an extra sleeping bag, but we probably would be fine with blankets. Yeah, they might get damp. Okay, bring yours. Okay, see you soon. Bye.” She hung up the phone and wiped the knife with her finger and licked off the extra peanut butter. From a plastic honey bear she streamed honey onto the sandwich and pressed the top piece of bread down. She looked in the fridge and found a big bowl of fruit salad, mostly cantaloupe and green grapes. She filled a smaller bowl with some and finished it quickly. She poured a tall glass of milk and drank it down. She hunted in the cabinets for some kind of dessert but came up empty. Her parents must be dieting again. She thought longingly of a big bowl of vanilla ice cream with chocolate sauce. Maybe she could convince her dad to go to the store for her, since Grace was coming over. He understood her love of dessert.
They usually stayed up late and would need something to keep them going. Ice cream was the best, but cookies or even cheese and crackers would do. She wondered where her mother was. Maybe in the garden, maybe at the barn, maybe in her parents’ room? Then Teagan remembered that she’d said she had errands to run. She glanced out the window and didn’t see any cars. Charlie must be off somewhere, too. He wouldn’t buy ice cream for her unless Susanna okayed it. What good was a brother with a car if she couldn’t get him to do things for her? In the fall they would be at the same school again, and he’d promised to drive her so she wouldn’t have to catch the bus by herself. Her mother and father drove the same car in different colors, Ford sedans. Teagan wondered what, in two years, she would drive. Then there’d be four cars in the driveway, plus the truck.
The old blue Chevrolet was always parked down by the barn but rarely in the same place, as if it went off on its own and parked itself each day. It was driven by whoever needed it and for whatever purpose. Jason Brill sometimes took it out for hauling hay. Charlie sometimes took it for his weekend paintball wars (the trees showed the aftermath of the games, splotched blue and yellow). Susanna used it for barn chores. Robert drove them through the woods to the upper field for sunsets and picnics. Teagan drove it just to drive it, because she was allowed. It was registered as a farm vehicle. She wouldn’t get pulled over driving from the barn to the woods and up to the upper field. Robert had given her lessons, and eventually she’d graduated to driving it on her own. She never asked permission to take it, unless she was going to keep it up in the woods for a campout. The woods were easy enough to walk to, but that wasn’t the point. The point was bouncing over the fields, lining up the truck to fit exactly through gates, and then winding up the uneven path, branches scraping the roof and sides, bumping over rocks, trying to keep the wheels going straight. The alignment on the truck was never adjusted. Neither were the brakes serviced nor the air pressure in the wheels checked. The truck seemed to be an organic thing. (Maybe it grazed in the fields at night with the horses.) No one ever spoke about repairs or maintenance. The truck was as it was. A few more bounces, and dings, grinding of the gears, and riding the clutch weren’t going to make a difference to anybody.
* * *
—
At about two o’clock, Leta Penn pulled up in her familiar blue Volvo station wagon. Grace got out carrying a backpack, a loose sleeping bag spilling from her arm. She was a little taller than Teagan, with dark brown hair. Teagan’s was a lighter brown, and straight. Her hair didn’t have the natural curl at the ends that Grace’s had. They both had athletic builds, and the same pale skin, but Grace’s tanned where Teagan’s burned. Teagan saw that, once again, they’d cut their hair the same way without having talked about it. Grace’s new short bob matched Teagan’s. They seemed to be parallels of each other and sometimes bought the same T-shirts just to emphasize their similarity.
“Thanks for bringing Grace over. I think my mom can take her home,” Teagan said, hugging Leta, who had gotten out of the car.
“Yes, we already figured that out. Grace, I’ll see you tomorrow around three. Are you two going camping?”
“We might spend the night in the woods. It’s not going to rain,” Teagan said.
“Okay. I know you’ll be careful,” Leta said.
“Do you want to come in?” Teagan said to Leta. She didn’t know what Leta would do if she came in, because Grace and Teagan didn’t want to stay around, but it was something Susanna would have asked, so Teagan extended the invitation.
“Is your mom here?”
“No. I don’t know where she is,” said Teagan. But as she said it, Susanna pulled into the driveway. “There she is.”
* * *
—
“We don’t have anything good in the house, so we might have to convince one of my parents to go to the store with us. We’ll need supplies if we’re camping. We could even build a fire and cook, or heat up soup or something. Charlie and I built a fire ring and we’ve already tried it out,” Teagan said.
“Do you have soup?” Grace asked.
Teagan opened some deep drawers. Grace checked the cabinets.
“I don’t see any.”
“Me either.”
“Okay, let’s make a list. What kind of soup do you like?” Teagan said, flipping through some bills Susanna had stacked next to her checkbook and finding a scrap of paper and a pen.
“Tomato is good. We could make grilled cheese.”
“Tomato, grilled cheese. And maybe some s’mores stuff?” said Teagan.
“I don’t really like s’mores,” said Grace.
“You don’t like s’mores? What’s wrong with you?” Teagan said.
“I like the chocolate. I just don’t like the marshmallow and the graham crackers.”
“Okay, then just hot chocolate?” said Teagan.
“What about tea?” said Grace.
“What are you, British? Okay, tea. Boring.”
“Are we making breakfast?” said Grace.
“How about some granola bars or something? We can always come back to the house for breakfast stuff,” Teagan suggested.
Susanna came in the door backward, a paper grocery bag in each arm.
“Hello, Grace,” she said.
“Hi, Mrs. French,” said Grace.
“You can call her Susanna, you know,” Teagan said.
Susanna set down the bags and pulled Grace into a hug. “I don’t mind politeness. But you can call me Susanna.” She released Grace and craned over the list Teagan was writing. “What’s that?”
“We’re camping and we need supplies. Can you take us to the store?” Teagan said.
“Honey, I just came from the store.”
“Okay,” Teagan said, not keeping disappointment from her voice.
“Let’s see if I have anything you want, before you get upset,” Susanna said.
“We’re not upset,” Grace said.
“Help me unload these and you might be surprised,” said Susanna. She’d bought canned chicken noodle soup, granola bars, apples, chocolate bars, marshmallows, and graham crackers, which Teagan added to the paper bag designated for camping food, despite Grace pretending to not like them.
“This is perfect. Thanks, Mom.”
“See. I know you two better than you think,” Susanna said. She began unloading the other groceries and Teagan directed Grace where to put things.
“So, what do you girls think about high school in the fall?”
Teagan said she didn’t know, and Grace gave a noncommittal shrug. The truth was that they had no idea what to expect, and so couldn’t talk about it.
“It’ll be bigger,” Teagan said.
“I’m going to take Latin,” Grace said.
“Really, Latin,” said Susanna.
“Why? It’s a dead language,” said Teagan.
“Exactly. I don’t have to learn how to speak it,” said Grace.
“You’ll be with Charlie,” Susanna said.
“Yeah. We’ll probably never see him,” Teagan said. Charlie was three years ahead of her.
“It’ll still be nice to be at the same school, won’t it?” Susanna said.
“Sure,” said Teagan. “Grace, come see the new barn cats.”
* * *
—
The girls carried their backpacks, sleeping bags, and the paper bag of groceries down to the barn and piled everything in the back of the blue truck. Gums came up to them to have his withered ears rubbed. Slinky lay in the sun and flipped her tail occasionally. Grace told Teagan that they were nice cats, and they moved on with their plans. They climbed into the cab of the truck. The cracked bench smelled strongly of vinyl warmed in the sun. A crushed Diet Coke can sat in the well of the passenger’s side.
“Key is in the glove compartment,” Teagan said to Grace. Grace handed it over.
“Your parents let you drive?”
“Yeah, didn’t you know? I’ve been driving the truck for a while now,” Teagan said. She pushed the clutch to the floor, turned the key, and rested her hand on the stick shift. “Hold on to something, because I don’t drive it that often,” Teagan said.
“We could just walk,” Grace said.
“That’s not as much fun. Hold on,” Teagan said.
“What about seat belts?” Grace asked.
“There aren’t any. Sorry. But we won’t go very fast at all,” Teagan said. She shifted into first and slowly let up the clutch, trying to feel when it caught. The truck lurched forward, bucked, and stalled.
“Shit!” said Grace, pushing against the dashboard with both hands.
“Sorry. Sometimes it takes a few tries,” said Teagan. She was already restarting the engine. On the second try the truck rolled forward, but not because the gear had engaged, and when Teagan let up the clutch the truck ran for a few seconds and then stalled and shuddered again. Grace looked at Teagan and said that she would rather walk.
“One more time. This is it,” Teagan said and turned the key. The truck rolled forward and Teagan eased it into first gear, and when the engine began to roar she eased it into second gear, and they bumped down the hill through the field, the horses lifting their heads from grazing to stare. As they neared the gate, Teagan told Grace to get out and open it, and she would drive slowly toward it. Grace looked doubtful at this suggestion.
“The brakes don’t hold very well on the downhill anyway, so it’s better just to keep it moving,” Teagan explained. She slowed the truck to a crawl, and Grace got out, slammed the truck door, and ran ahead and opened the gate. Teagan leaned over the steering wheel to try to see how much clearance she had on both sides, which was about an inch. She eased the truck through but turned too soon and the side of the bed scraped against the fence post, the metal protesting as it was scratched by the wood. Grace closed the gate, then ran to catch up. She opened the door and ran a little more to get momentum into the cab while the truck meandered forward. She pulled the door shut.
“Good work,” Teagan said and shifted into second.
“Next time, you get the gate,” Grace said.
“You don’t know how to drive it,” Teagan said.
“I don’t think it’s that hard,” Grace said.
“I’ll teach you. After we put our stuff down I’ll give you a lesson,” Teagan said. She steered the truck up the trail toward the top field, and they were thrown side to side as the wheels bounced over rocks. Teagan tried to keep the tires in the tracks and wasn’t entirely successful. Before the woods opened to the field, there was a small clearing that Charlie and Teagan used as a camping spot. There they’d built the fire ring, digging down to the dirt and fitting rocks close together. The girls spread out their plastic tarp and tossed their sleeping bags on it. They’d decided against the trouble of putting up a tent. The weather was warm. They scavenged for sticks for their small fire. They argued over how to build the fire, A-frame or log cabin, and Grace won with log cabin. A pile of extra wood next to the unlit fire and they were moved in. They sat on their sleeping bags and ate some chocolate.
“Ready for your lesson?” Teagan said.
“Tell me how it works first, before I try it,” Grace said.
Teagan described the clutch, and how to press it down to shift gears, and let it up to engage the engine. She mimicked the movement of the clutc
h with one hand, and shifting the gears with the other, and told Grace how to feel when the clutch caught. Teagan asked if the explanation made sense, and Grace said forget it, she would just figure it out. Teagan drove into the field, where there was less chance of hitting a tree, and killed the engine. They traded places, and Grace stepped on the clutch and the brake and started the engine. She tried shifting into second gear, and the truck groaned.
“You have to use the gas. Forget the brake. If it rolls a little, that’s fine,” said Teagan.
Grace stepped on the clutch, shifted from neutral into first, and then gunned the gas and let up the clutch. The truck sped forward toward the woods.
“Use the brake,” Teagan yelled.
Grace slammed on the brake, throwing them both forward, and the truck shuddered and died.
“A little bit of gas, Grace. You’re going to kill us,” Teagan said.
“I’ve never done this before,” Grace said back.
“Okay. It’s fine. Just use a little less gas this time, and steer toward the trail,” Teagan said.
Grace stepped on the clutch, and this time she eased down the gas pedal and shifted smoothly. The truck moved forward with no lurching at all.
“That was great,” Teagan said.
“It’s not that hard,” Grace said.
“Once you get the hang of it. It could be beginner’s luck,” said Teagan.
“Should I go down the hill?”
“Sure. Go down to the dirt road. It’ll be easier to drive there,” said Teagan.
Grace drove slowly down the trail, pulling hard on the wheel when the truck didn’t respond right away. She went more slowly than Teagan had, and Teagan gave her encouragement. Grace turned onto the road and then shifted into second, only gunning it a little bit.