by Warren Adler
“She’s got the stuff. Okay, she had a tough time when she was younger. The competition is deadly, and most people, probably ninety-nine percent, lose out in that business. A lot of the breaks are based on pure luck. Give her credit for tenacity, Dad. She’s still out there in the fray, and she’s right about character parts. But if she’s breaking her ass trying to support herself, well, it’s a drag. She needs your help, Dad. She really does.”
She exchanged glances with him and smiled. They were together again, allies.
“We’re not losers, Dad,” Courtney explained, sensing the necessity to take up her brother’s cause now and to reinforce their sibling solidarity. “Scott has had some bad breaks. It was just bad timing. You can’t blame it all on him. Besides, people learn by their mistakes. Scott is a winner, Dad. All he needs is the backing and breaks.” She turned toward her brother and their eyes met. “I love my brother, Dad, and I’d really like to see you get behind him again. He’ll make you proud. I know he will.”
Their father nodded in agreement. He had always believed in sibling solidarity, family loyalty. They were hitting exactly the right notes. Apparently, they had estimated correctly about his net worth. The figures in question would hardly make a dent.
“Children,” their father began, when they had respectfully paused to give him a chance to respond. “I will admit that I’ve made mistakes in the way I have handled the situation with both of you. I never felt good about having to turn you down, although you’ve got to admit that I had been a very supportive dad. Hell, I love you guys, and I’d like nothing better than to see you succeed in any endeavor you choose. And you both know that you are always welcome to join me in business.” He smiled and lifted his hands. “I know. I know. It’s not your cup of tea, and I haven’t been able to persuade you. I understand. Believe me, I do. Maybe I have been too harsh recently, and I fully intend to make amends. I don’t want us to be estranged ever again. Not ever. And I intend to do what it takes to bond us as a family again.”
He cleared his throat. It sounded like a statement that he had rehearsed and turned over and over again in his mind. She could see, too, that he was genuinely bothered by their estrangement. It was happening. It needed a gesture, and she obliged, throwing her arms around her father.
“Oh, Daddy. That was so wonderful. Oh, Daddy, I love you so.”
She hugged and kissed him, and he returned the gesture. She could see her brother’s eyes well up with tears as he patted his father’s arm. After an appropriate length of time, she disengaged. It was obvious that their father wanted to make a further comment.
“You both will be very well provided for on my demise, children. I promise you.”
“And we sincerely hope that such a time will be far away down the road,” Scott said. “Isn’t that right, Courtney?”
“Of course, Dad. The longer the better.”
“What I want to happen as I start…you know what I mean…what I have to call a new life.” He paused, sucked in a deep breath, and looked down at his hands. “God, I loved your mother. She was everything to me.” He lifted his head and looked at both of them in turn. “Of course, you both know that. I was lost when she died, totally lost. It was the worst experience of my life. To lose a loving mate of long-standing is just about the most horrible thing that can happen to a person, perhaps as terrible as the loss of the child. I think I’ve found someone who—although she could never take your mother’s place—could be good for me, good for all of us. She wants us to be one happy family, and I want that as well. Believe me, children, I want that more than anything. Of course, I will have to amend the estate plan to take into account my new wife. I promise you that it won’t affect your own inheritance prospects. I want to be fair to everyone.”
He was on the verge of tears and had to look away to get control over his emotions. Courtney turned to Scott and lifted her eyes.
“Amend—” she began, but just at that moment Harry came out of the trees, leading the horses. As he came forward, his condition was unmistakable. He was very drunk.
“Shit,” Courtney murmured, aborting her statement.
“How the hell do we handle this?” Scott asked, observing Harry staggering forward.
He came closer, bringing with him his special scent stronger than ever.
“Got to go, folksh,” he blubbered. Courtney wondered if he really thought he was hiding his condition.
“Here we go again,” their father said, in a whispered aside.
“Don’t get him riled,” Courtney warned.
“Let’sh roll,” Harry croaked.
“Just do as he says, Dad,” Scott whispered. “He’s got us by the short hairs.”
Scott helped his father onto his horse. Then Courtney mounted, and Scott did the same. All eyes were on Harry as he attempted to get into his saddle.
Harry lifted his left foot into the stirrup, then slipped, and fell backward on the grass.
“Sombitch,” he cried. “Am gonna beat the shit outa thish fuckin’ horsh.”
“Wasn’t his fault,” Scott muttered.
“Easy,” Courtney warned.
Harry rose, giggled drunkenly, and looked at them with a bleary stare. He lifted his left foot into the stirrup again. In his state, his boot found no traction and slipped out. He averted a fall by grasping the pommel.
“Damned pea-brained sumbitch,” Harry grunted, lifting his foot into the stirrup once again. This time it held, and he managed to lift himself onto the saddle, listing to the left once his butt settled in the saddle.
“Fuck outtahere,” he cried, lifting his arm and waving them forward. His perch on the horse was precarious, but apparently the horse knew the way or Harry managed to guide it by rote through the trail.
They moved up the low hills and down again through the trees and meadows. Courtney’s horse was between Scott’s and her father’s, which brought up the rear. Turning, she exchanged worried looks with each of them as they moved forward.
There was complete silence among them. Like her, they were too fearful to comment. Frustrated by his interruption at such a critical moment, her paramount concern now was to get back to camp in one piece. Then what? She was genuinely frightened.
She did not recognize any of the terrain, but then she had no real knowledge of the landmarks. The immensity of the terrain was daunting. She could not conceive of them being able to find their way out of such vastness without expert guidance.
At a turn in the trail, Harry nearly fell over but managed to stay put by holding fast to the pommel. As they progressed, Harry’s head dropped onto his chest, but his horse continued along the path. The path to where?
She tried to take comfort in the notion that the horse did know the way, but in this place, there was no way of being certain. This new threat of danger had quickly rearranged her priorities. They were in the middle of nowhere in the hands of a drunken guide. Dire speculation ran rampant in her mind. Were they moving toward camp or going in circles?
Harry had informed them during their first meeting that they were heading deep into territory where few people normally went, the furthest point from a road in the lower forty-eight. She cursed Harry for putting them in this predicament. He was ruining the trip. Worse, he was interfering in their reaching their goals. His sudden appearance had been galling. Her father mentioned “amendment.” What did that mean? The idea of dilution that she had expressed earlier came to mind.
At one point, Harry’s horse stopped dead in its tracks and began to graze. Scott immediately caught up with the horse and slapped him on the rump, a good hard reminder to get going. Harry shook himself into semialertness and, for a brief period, kept the horse moving forward. He was mounted precariously, listing from side to side. At any moment she expected him to fall off, perhaps sustain a life-threatening or incapacitating injury.
The horses moved more slowly than they had in the morning, which raised yet another fear in Courtney’s mind, namely that darkness would descend befor
e they made camp—if they made camp—and then where would they be? She pulled up on the reins, and her horse stopped moving. Scott turned his horse, and they waited for their father to catch up. Harry’s horse moved slowly forward, with Harry oblivious to what was happening behind him.
“What the hell do we do?” she asked her brother and father.
“What can we do?” Scott said. “Just follow along and hope for the best. Sooner or later he has to sober up.”
“Unless he’s got more booze with him,” Courtney said.
“I’m sorry, kids,” their father said. It had become a mantra. “I had no idea.”
“Not your fault, Dad,” Scott said, looking ahead at Harry’s horse still moving. “Better catch up. We have no choice.”
He moved his horse forward, and it cantered ahead. He looked back at them and waved them on. Courtney kicked her horse, and it moved forward to catch up with Scott’s. Their father’s horse followed. Scott was right: they had no choice.
After an hour or so of steady progress, Courtney noted that Harry’s head was no longer on his chest. Apparently the alcoholic haze was lifting. He turned in his saddle and looked back, squinted, and made a limp hand signal for them to keep moving. His action was encouraging but could not erase the atmosphere of danger.
After a while, they caught the scent of the cooking fire and soon after were back in camp. Harry dismounted clumsily and, still unsteady, headed straight to his tent. Tomas had come up to take charge of the horses.
“He was drunk as a skunk,” Scott said.
Tomas shrugged but said nothing.
“Not exactly a secure feeling,” Courtney said.
“He be okay,” Tomas muttered.
“Broken record, Tomas,” Courtney said.
“Okay?” Scott said. “He’s not okay. The man’s a menace.”
“Got any suggestions, Tomas?” their father asked, repeating himself when he did not get any answer. “He can’t continue like that. He’s not in control. He’s putting us in danger.”
“He be okay,” Tomas muttered yet again, not looking at them, gathering the reins of the four horses.
“You keep saying that,” Courtney snapped, her voice rising. “He’s not okay. He’s a goddamned drunk. My father is right. We’re in the hands of someone…unreliable. Damn it, Tomas. We got problems here.”
Tomas said nothing, his expression cryptic, as if he were wearing a mask.
“Jesus, Tomas,” Courtney blurted. “He treats you like shit, and you keep defending him.”
Tomas shrugged and turned away.
“I take care of the horses, and we have dinner.”
“I don’t believe this,” Scott said, as Tomas led the horses away toward the meadow to be hobbled.
“He be okay,” Courtney mimicked. “He’s not okay.”
“I’m really sorry about this,” their father said.
“Never mind that, Dad,” Courtney said. “No more apologies please, enough of that. You didn’t know. Don’t blame yourself. The truth is we’re in a pickle.”
“I’ll promise you this,” Scott said. “He’s got to be reported. He can’t do this work anymore. As soon as we get back, I’m gonna turn him in. The man’s a menace.”
“If we get back, Scott,” Courtney said.
“Let’s not panic, kids,” their father interjected. She remembered him always as the voice of reason. “Let’s think about this. I’m sure he doesn’t want to ruin his livelihood.”
“He’s doing a great job of it,” Courtney snapped.
They watched the Mexican return. He looked at them briefly, then moved to the fire, and began making preparations for their dinner. His face was expressionless.
“Let’s not overreact,” their father said. “Despite everything, we did get back in one piece.” He looked pale and tired.
“Why not rest a while before dinner, then we’ll decide how to handle things.”
He embraced them both and crawled into his tent.
“What a bummer,” Courtney said. “Just when things were going great.”
“He has a point,” Scott said.
“He mentioned ‘amendment’,” Courtney said. “I know what he meant. He was going to make changes in his will to protect his beloved Muriel, that’s what he meant, to screw us out of what is rightfully ours.”
“Weren’t you listening?” Scott admonished her. “He is going to reevaluate his situation. We’re going to get what we need for your maintenance and investment money for me. Trust him, Courtney. He is doing exactly what we wanted of him. Let’s just leave it at that.”
“I want to know what he means by ‘amendment’.”
“Damn it, Courtney. Leave it alone. We got what we want, both of us. You’ve got to trust him. He loves us. He won’t screw us.”
“That woman,” she replied, her anger rising. “She’ll control. That always happens. She’ll work her wiles. In the end we’ll get screwed. We mustn’t let that happen.”
“You’ve got to trust him, Courtney.”
“I’ve seen it happen over and over again.”
“You have?” He offered a forced smile, shaking his head. “You’ve read too many movie scripts and seen too many movies.”
Her eyes narrowed and her attention began to drift.
“You know what I want now?” Courtney said.
“What?
“I want to get the fuck out of here.”
Chapter 16
Tomas, looking unperturbed, concentrated on serving their dinner. He ladled out a thick vegetable soup and had prepared spaghetti and meatballs and biscuits. Harry stayed in his tent. They ate in silence, without appetite. After he collected their plates, Tomas carried a plate to Harry’s tent and returned to clean up.
“How’s he doing?” Scott asked.
“I tole you. He be okay.”
Tomas scraped the leftovers into the fire then headed to the stream to wash the plates. They sat around the fire and sipped coffee.
“Johnny one note,” Scott said, mimicking. “He be okay.”
“Too bad,” their father sighed. “I hadn’t expected this.”
“Enough, Dad,” Courtney said, petulantly.
“We’ll get through it, Dad,” Scott murmured.
“Sure we will,” Courtney said, obviously determined to get their earlier conversation back on track.
“I really fantasized about this, kids,” their father shrugged. He appeared gray-faced and tired. “Sitting around the fire. Like last time. That was the best part of it, remember?”
“Sweet memories, Dad,” Courtney said, obviously bored with the nostalgia.
“I loved that part. Hell, you can’t really recapture the past. Besides, it’s never really accurate in memory, not really.”
“It was a great moment in our lives, Dad,” Scott said.
“Let’s hope we have this to remember as well, despite the unpleasantness,” their father said.
At that moment, they heard movement in the guide’s tent. The flap opened, and Harry crawled out and then stood up, shaking himself like an old dog. Carrying his half-eaten dinner on the metal plate, he came toward them. Moving into the circle of light thrown by the fire, he looked haggard but reasonably sober. He squatted next to them and spat on the ground.
“I’m really sorry, folks,” he said, his eyes looking down. “I made a damned fool of myself.”
They exchanged surprised glances.
“Yes, you did,” Courtney said. “You had us really worried. You were looped.”
“I don’t know what got into me.” He shook his head and looked at them. He did actually appear contrite. “It won’t happen again.”
As he put the plate on a rock, his hand shook, and the metal clattered. This close, his alcoholic aura was nauseating. He looked toward their father.
“I really let you down, Temple. Maybe our little discussion earlier set me off. I guess when you get older, your tolerance for a lot of things goes down. I did give you a great experie
nce years ago, and in the few days we have left, I’d like to replicate that. Once again, folks, forgive me.”
His contrition seemed sincere, but Scott was still not convinced, remembering the stash of booze buried just outside their camp.
“You scared the hell out of us, Harry,” their father said.
It struck Scott as too gentle a remonstrance. He decided to offer his own.
“Think about it, Harry. We’re out here under your care and guidance. It’s a violation of your responsibility.” He hoped Harry would see it as a barbed threat.
Harry looked down at the ground again and shrugged.
“Believe me, I understand, and I apologize sincerely. This is definitely not what you signed on for. Hell, I’ve been doing this for more than thirty years. I’ve always been steady and responsible. You know that, Temple. I admit my conduct was unforgivable, and I hope you’ll cut me some slack.”
Scott looked toward Courtney, who raised her eyebrows and turned away. He knew she was unconvinced.
“Thing is,” Harry said. “Been carrying around a lot of problems lately.” He shook his head and spat into the ground. “Lots of changes happening in my business. Not like it was. The hunting part is going down the tubes. Fucking wolves.” He pursed his lips and shook his head regretfully. “Maybe I’m just getting old is all.” He shrugged, looking pitiful.
Wallowing in self-pity, Scott thought. He felt no sympathy for the man.
“I’m willing to let bygones be bygones,” their father said. “I’m sure my children feel the same way.” He turned toward them.
“Whatever you say, Dad,” Courtney said, obviously unconvinced.
“All we ask, Harry, is that you attend to business,” Scott said. There seemed no point in antagonizing him at this stage.
“It won’t happen again,” Harry said. “Bear with me.”
“We will, Harry,” their father said, obviously determined to show sympathy, probably truly convinced of Harry’s promise. “Life does have its ups and downs. Nobody really escapes. People cope in different ways. We accept your apologies, don’t we, kids?”
Each offered what could be taken as a gesture of consent and understanding. Scott was wary. One glance at Courtney assured him that she was not convinced.