Maya hurried to the flat rock and collected the remaining horses in her kerchief and walked toward camp, swaddling the bundle next to her body. A wave of tears started again. She muttered under her breath. “I don’t hate it here. I hate … you.”
“You’re sure quiet this evening, Maya,” said Aunt Vi. “You didn’t come out of your tent all afternoon and barely touched your dinner.”
Payton leaned forward in his chair, his voice dripping with fake concern. “Yeah, Maya, are you okay?”
Maya pulled farther into her jacket. Payton would just love it if she spilled her guts to Aunt Vi, but she wasn’t about to give him that satisfaction. “Just tired, I guess.”
“You have every right to be tired,” said Aunt Vi. “You’ve had more changes in the last week than most people have in ten years. On top of all that, today was your first day on a horse. Let’s get to bed early. Payton, did you check the horses?”
“Yes. I belled and hobbled Catlin and Audubon.”
“You latched Wilson’s gate?”
“Yes, ma’am.”
Maya gazed toward the corrals.
“Maya, stir out that fire. Payton, help me wipe down the kitchen. Then let’s turn in.”
After Aunt Vi and Payton left, Maya stood for a long time jabbing at the embers, which occasionally pulsed with a hot red glow. The wheels of resentment churned in her mind for everything Payton had: his parents, his brothers, an entire life of riding horses. He’d even had Aunt Vi, Fig, and Moose every summer. Maya gritted her teeth, pressed her lips together, and shook her head.
When the embers quieted, she laid down the poker and headed toward the latrine tent, shining the flashlight down the path. But by the time she arrived, an idea had blossomed. She diverted behind the latrine tent and turned off the beam.
Maybe if Aunt Vi saw how careless Payton was, she would send him back to the ranch for the rest of the summer. Maya smiled at that delicious possibility.
MAYA’S SLEEP WENT UNDISTURBED. AFTER THE FLURRY, travel, and exhaustion of the last few days, nothing stirred her. Not the high-pitched songs of the coyotes, the clangs of the hobbled horses, or the thwap of the tepee billowing with the wind. It wasn’t until she heard the revving of a motor that she awoke.
As she dressed, Maya felt an unfamiliar tightening and soreness of the muscles on the insides of her legs, but she decided not to mention it to Aunt Vi. She didn’t want anything to interfere with her lessons.
Maya walked slowly and stiffly to the breakfast campfire, where she found Aunt Vi staring into her coffee. On the hill, an unfamiliar truck hitched to a horse trailer pulled away from the corral area. “Who’s that?” she asked.
Aunt Vi let out a long breath. “The vet. Wilson escaped last night. He wandered and must have caught a leg in a badger hole. Somehow, he limped back here but then went down. I drove to a neighbor’s ranch early this morning and called the vet. She’s taking him to her ranch until his leg heals.” Aunt Vi looked at Maya, mystified. “Payton loves that horse and takes better care of him every summer than I do all year long.”
Maya chewed on the inside of her lip.
A few minutes later, Payton walked into camp, his head down, and his face blotchy and red. He sank into one of the chairs. “Aunt Vi, I am so sorry. I swear I latched that gate last night. I swear.”
“No need for swearing. You were in a hurry and didn’t pay attention.”
“No! I checked it twice. I promise.” His eyes pleaded for belief.
Maya sat on the edge of a chair and stared at the ground, stirring the dirt with the toe of one boot. She looked up and caught Aunt Vi studying her with a questioning gaze. Maya quickly averted her eyes and stood up, holding her hands out to warm them over the fire.
Aunt Vi directed her words to Payton but she continued to stare at Maya. “I’m surprised at you, Payton. Being so careless … It just broke my heart to see poor Wilson suffering with so much pain, his big eyes looking at me for relief, and all his moaning and confusion. You know, a horse’s greatest fear is different from a human’s. Our innate fear is of falling. But a horse’s is of not being able to get up and flee from danger or a predator. Imagine what that poor animal felt.…”
Payton dropped his head into his hands and sobbed. Maya’s face wrenched with remorse. “Aunt Vi … I … I might have …”
Payton raised his head and looked at her. “Wait a minute.… You! You did it to get back at me! Because of the stupid plastic horses!”
Maya’s anger swelled. “They’re not stupid plastic horses! My mother gave them to me!”
Aunt Vi nodded. She blew out a long breath. “Maya, there’s never been a Limner who would endanger the life of a horse.”
Maya’s stomach felt sick with desperation. Her words scrambled. “I … I didn’t mean for it to happen. I actually just went up to say good night to the horses and … and … Wilson came over toward me completely on his own. He … acted extremely hungry so I gave him some of the molasses grain, just like you showed me, Aunt Vi. And I guess … when I leaned over the gate, the latch must have caught on my jacket … or something entirely innocent like that.”
“You’re a liar!” Payton jumped up and held up a fist.
“That’s enough,” said Aunt Vi. “Maya, what did Payton do to you that would warrant this?”
Maya’s thoughts bunched so tight that she couldn’t pry them apart. Aunt Vi didn’t understand. Nobody understood. Maya spit out the words. “Nothing,” she said. “He did positively … absolutely nothing.”
“Is that true, Payton? You’ve done nothing to make Maya angry?”
Payton shifted in his chair and hung his head.
Aunt Vi studied both of them and shook her head with disgust. “So both of you have treated the other with disrespect.”
“Aunt Vi,” Maya said with earnestness, “you can banish me to my tepee if you want. I’m perfectly comfortable being by myself. I’m not used to being around boys of any kind. I don’t understand about teasing or being obnoxious or any of the unsavory and mean things they do, so it’s fine with me if you need to separate us and send Payton away. I am truly sorry for my inconsiderate behavior, but it was absolutely … an accident. I hope you’ll forgive me.”
Aunt Vi tossed the remains of her coffee in the fire and paced. She finally stopped and glared at Maya. “I’d like to believe you, but I don’t. And for the time being, neither one of you is forgiven, or going anywhere. Starting now, you’ll do just about everything together. You will eat facing each other. You will do any number of chores I can dream up, together. Payton, you will be Maya’s groom at her lesson, and Maya, you will be Payton’s groom at his. And if either of you fails to cooperate or if one impolite word passes between you, you’ll do nothing else but shovel manure … together.”
Maya nodded. “Don’t worry, Aunt Vi. I’m actually not going to speak to him ever again.”
“Me neither,” added Payton.
“Suit yourselves,” said Aunt Vi. “But you’re going to get tired of hearing my voice.”
Maya and Payton peeled carrots and potatoes, washed dishes, raked the clearing, soaped bridles and saddles, swept out the tents, and toted buckets of water from the river to the campsite, side by side. By the afternoon of the sixth day, not an utterance had passed between them and their mutual stubbornness seemed indestructible.
As Maya helped Payton stack wood near the campfire, she caught Aunt Vi watching them. Maya raised her chin in the air and walked back toward the woodpile. Payton walked next to her, staring at the ground. Later, in the corral before Maya’s lesson, Payton handed Seltzer’s reins to Maya without even looking at her. Maya snatched the leather straps from him and turned away to find Aunt Vi studying them again.
Aunt Vi’s eyes narrowed. Her mouth set in a straight line and her head nodded almost imperceptibly, as if she’d made up her mind about something. “Let’s get started!” she called, rubbing her hands together.
Aunt Vi barked out orders. Maya walked Sel
tzer, jogged him, backed up, side passed, and wove in serpentine patterns around poles. Then, on Aunt Vi’s command, she repeated the sequences. After the long lesson, Aunt Vi turned and headed toward the corral gate. Maya dismounted and wiped the sweat trickling down her neck with her kerchief.
Aunt Vi jerked around. “We’re not stopping, Maya. I know you’ve been on the horse for almost two hours but you’re not done yet. Get back up there. You’re going to lope.”
“But I’m tired and I’ve never loped before.…”
“Most members of this family learn before they go to kindergarten. Don’t you think you’ve got some catching up to do? Now get back on that horse. Do you want to be the first Limner who doesn’t know how to lope?”
Why was Aunt Vi being so mean? Maya climbed back into the saddle. “I just … don’t want to go too fast.”
“Why do you panic every time I ask you pick up a little speed? What is it now, Maya?”
What was the matter with Aunt Vi? Why was she grilling her? For the entire lesson, nothing had seemed good enough, and she hadn’t given even the tiniest approval. “Going fast makes me feel sick. I actually … get motion sickness.…”
Aunt Vi put her hands on her hips. “Bring him to a jog. Collect his head. Press your leg on his right side, a little farther back than normal. And make the sound of a kiss.”
With reluctance, Maya attempted Aunt Vi’s directives. Seltzer made a sudden rise in the air and back down. Like a merry-go-round horse, he jolted up and down, up and down, then faster and faster.
Aunt Vi yelled, “Let go of the horn! Stay centered. Heels down. Keep your back flexible. Your arms are flapping all over the place! Look where you’re headed, not down at the ground. Don’t let your bottom slap. Oh, for heaven’s sake, say ‘whoa!’ ”
“Whoa!” Maya and Seltzer came to an abrupt stop, and she almost tumbled over the horn.
“That was messy,” said Aunt Vi. “You can do better. Try again.”
Shaken, Maya whined, “I want to get off.”
“Again!” said Aunt Vi.
Maya frowned but she brought the horse to a jog and gave the cue. She kept her leg on his side, forgetting to remove it, and Seltzer loped in tight circles.
“Maya! What are you doing? Give the cue and release. Now start over!”
“He’s not doing it right!” Maya complained.
Aunt Vi’s eyes pierced through her. “You’re not doing it right!”
Maya clucked to bring Seltzer to a jog and they headed down the straightaway. A cottontail jumped from a nearby sagebrush and darted in front of them, its white tail bobbing.
Seltzer reared.
Maya felt her body lift high into the air and slide from the saddle. Her boots slipped from the stirrups. She dropped the reins. A frightening, sinking feeling came over her. She plummeted and her body smacked the dirt. Would the horse fall on her? Was she going to die?
She heard Seltzer’s hooves retreating.
Payton jumped from the fence and reached Maya first. “Are you okay?”
Maya stared at his boots and felt him taking her arm. She rolled over, shaking, and sat up.
“Get up,” said Aunt Vi as she approached. “Payton, run and get her horse. Maya, you and Seltzer have some unlearning to do before we stop for the day.”
“Aunt Vi, she might be hurt,” said Payton.
“Get the horse, Payton.”
Maya felt tears oozing from her eyes. “I can’t. Seltzer threw me.…”
“He didn’t throw you. You fell. Think like a horse. Horses are prey animals. Their main goals in life are to graze, stay with the herd, and flee from danger. Seltzer thought the rabbit was a predator. You know it was a little rabbit, but he thought it was a mountain lion. Sooner or later, most horses do something unpredictable. If you had been looking out instead of down, and if you had been balanced and centered in your seat, you wouldn’t have fallen when he reared.”
Payton brought Seltzer around and held out the reins. Aunt Vi stood nearby with her arms crossed.
Sweat rivulets streamed down Maya’s back, and dust stuck to her arms and cheek. Her voice filled with anger and frustration at Aunt Vi. “Don’t you understand? I told you. I have … motion sickness. I get extremely sick on roller coasters and motorcycles and trains … and …”
“When did you ride any of those things?” interrupted Aunt Vi. “Your grandmother’s lawyer told Moose that you were barely allowed out of the house for six years. That you were practically a prisoner …”
Furious tears spewed. “You don’t know what I’ve done!” said Maya. “I’ve had lots of opportunities! Grandmother took me to amusement parks all the time, usually once a month. And she let me ride on the back of a neighbor’s motorbike, entirely for fun. And I rode a train when we went on vacation … to … to San Juan Capistrano! But I only did those things once because they made me throw up. And … and anything fast brings back all the horribly awful memories about the tragedy that happened to my parents, because the driver of the other car was unnecessarily speeding!”
Aunt Vi shook her head. “Listen to yourself. You’re just making things up as you go along. There was no other car. Your parents’ car skidded during a rainstorm and ran into a mountain. Are you going to use their deaths as an excuse for everything that you can’t do or are afraid to try, for the rest of your life? Because Maya, if so, you’ll be painting yourself into a corner with all of your lies and you’ll be stuck without ability or experience. Your parents died. You never have to get over it, but you do have to get on with it.” Aunt Vi yelled so loud that a sage grouse flew out of a nearby bush. “Now get up and get back on that horse!”
Payton’s forehead furrowed with concern. “Aunt Vi, you’re being kind of mean.…”
Aunt Vi turned on Payton. “Payton, who are you to be talking to me about being mean to Maya? There’s not one of us leaving here until she lopes. So if you’ve got any comments, give them to Maya in the form of a suggestion.”
Frowning, Payton backed away.
“Get on that horse, Maya,” said Aunt Vi.
Maya saw a flicker of loathing in Aunt Vi’s eyes and it pried the lid on her resolve. Remarks flashed in her mind. Most members of this family learn to lope before they go to kindergarten. The Limners were born to ride. There’s not one of us who didn’t take to the saddle. Maya stood and took the reins.
Payton rushed forward and held the stirrup for her. He whispered, “I know Aunt Vi. We’ll be here until you get it right, even till midnight.”
Maya put her foot in the stirrup, grabbed the horn, and hoisted herself into the seat.
Payton looked up at her. “If Seltzer goes too fast, just pull back on the reins so the bit makes contact with his mouth, then release. Just bump and release.”
Maya nodded to him. She brought the horse to a jog, gave the leg cue, and made the sound of a kiss. The transition felt gentler his time. She stayed on.
“Now ride!” yelled Aunt Vi. “Ride like someone is trying to catch you. Ride!”
Maya looked ahead through Seltzer’s ears and held the reins in front of the horn. She kept her arms still and close to her body, her legs positioned with heels down, and stayed centered. The horse’s hooves pounded out a tempo like the sequential thrumming of fingers. Maya flew down the dirt track and through the turn, the breeze amusing her cheeks. She rode, giving Seltzer more leg, and he picked up speed. The perfect metrical beat of the horse’s stride became the rhythm of her own breathing. Hoosh, hoosh, hoosh. In those moments, nothing that had happened before, or might happen after, mattered. She was flooded with an unfamiliar yet lucid happiness. She wanted to lope and lope and lope forever.
When Maya dismounted, she was breathless and her face felt flushed.
Aunt Vi dashed forward and Maya smiled, expecting congratulations. Instead, Aunt Vi took Seltzer’s reins. “Payton! Maya! Change into shorts and an undershirt and meet me at the river.” She turned away, leading the horse toward the corral.
Maya stared after her. “Didn’t I do it right?”
“Yeah. You did fine,” said Payton. “She’s probably going to make us scrub river rocks. She made me do that once when I talked back to her.”
AUNT VI STRODE TOWARD THEM WITH TOWELS IN ONE hand and a bottle of shampoo in the other. She wore her cowboy boots and a bathing suit with a long work shirt as a cover-up, which was as long as a dress on her short body. “This way!” she said, and took off toward the willows, walking as if she were about to miss a bus.
Maya and Payton trudged after her, trying to keep up. They followed along the bank of the river until they reached a grassy overlook, elevated a few feet above a pool in the river.
Aunt Vi stopped and tossed towels at Maya and Payton. “You’re both getting a little ripe.” She nodded toward the river. “Payton, don’t you think it’s time Maya had a camp baptism? Maya, there’s nothing better than the soft water of the Sweetwater.”
“Yes!” said Payton. He dropped to the ground, pulled off his boots and socks, and jumped from the bank. A giant splash followed.
Maya stared at Aunt Vi, puzzled. They weren’t going to wash river rocks?
“Can you swim?” asked Aunt Vi, taking off her shirt and starting on her boots.
Maya looked down at her filthy arm. She had wondered if she was ever going to take a bath again. Since she’d arrived there’d been nothing more than a daily washing over a bowl of water and a swipe here and there with a washcloth. “Yes, I can swim,” she said, then added with a nervous laugh, “but … I don’t know about this.…” Maya dropped to the grass anyway, tugging on her boots and releasing her hair from the ponytail.
Aunt Vi scuttled down the embankment and into the water.
“Come on!” yelled Payton. “It’s easier than falling off a horse.” He dove under.
Maya took timid steps on the bank. “I can’t believe I’m doing this. I really can’t believe I’m doing this.” She stood shivering on the bank, held her nose with one hand, closed her eyes, and jumped. She plunged into the clear water and then sprang back up, screaming at its coldness.
Paint the Wind Page 7