Secondhand Horses (6 page)

As she charged through the door, the goat rose on its hind legs, plunging its head up and down as though ready for a charge. Uncle Dave leaped back and tripped on the old coffee can of bolts and nails and stuff. His arms windmilled.

“Sunny!” As his right foot slid over the top of the old wooden yoke with its shreds of leather and caught, his voice pitched higher. “What have you—” A sickening
pop
sounded a second before a horrible yell exploded from her uncle.

Esther, Vee, and Aneta stood at the bottom of the steps, eyes big, mouths open, clutching each other.

W
ith the muted voices of the surgical floor waiting room in the background, Sunny inspected her feet. Anything was better than thinking about what had happened to Uncle Dave. One shoelace had bigger loops in it than the other. Mud from Uncle Dave’s ranch had mushed up over the toe of the right sneaker. The holes for both sneakers’ laces were just slightly off from being exactly across from each other.

This is the worst day of my life. I’ll never have another Great Idea as long as I live
.

“Code blue, code blue, to room 213,” the voice on the speaker urged.

Sunny sat across from her parents. She didn’t deserve to be part of the family. The boys were home with a neighbor. At least her parents could have them for kids.

Daring to peek up, she scanned her parents. Dad held Mom’s hand while she chewed the inside of her cheek—a sure sign she was stressed. Dad was tapping his first two fingers on the arm of the really uncomfortable chairs. What had happened wouldn’t stop playing like a scary movie in Sunny’s head.

Aneta’s mom had arrived to pick up the girls moments after Uncle Dave fell. She had stuffed the girls into the SUV along with Uncle Dave and zoomed to the emergency room. He’d been hustled up to surgery. The family had made its way through the maze of halls to the waiting room.

It’s been over three hours
. An ankle wasn’t very big; what could they be
doing
to it?

Sunny squirmed when her father’s gaze met hers. With Dad, Sunny could expect a wink and a smile just because their gazes met. Not now. There was something in his eyes that Sunny couldn’t read.

“Dad, I’m so sorry,” she said for about the zillionth time. She’d been saying it since Aneta’s mom pulled into the driveway to be met by four screaming girls. Being a lawyer must mean you know how to deal with truly
ugh
stuff because Aneta’s mom understood the story while running for the shed. She’d never freaked out once.

Swallowing past the growing lump in her throat, Sunny remembered seeing her uncle laying in a weird way on the floor, his ankle trapped in the yoke. For as long as she lived—and that might not be too long—she would not forget his gasping, and the groans that burst from him as Aneta’s mom got him up and half carried him to the SUV. Aneta whispered on the way that her mom worked out. Good thing.

“So you’ve said.” Dad shook his head. “Oh, Sunny.”

Mom squeezed his hand, crossed the room, and sat down next to her. The tears that had been sprinkling out on Sunny’s cheeks gave way to deep, shoulder-rattling sobs. Leaning forward, she buried her face in her hands, feeling the wet of the tears and snot.

“Honey,” Mom said, her left hand rubbing Sunny’s back. “Talk to me.”

“If I hadn’t thought it was such a great idea—” Where to start? The Great Idea of pulling the tramp under the window instead of cleaning out the tractor shed like Uncle Dave asked? Or persuading the girls to see her Great Idea of the window jump because it was “just for a second”? Or the Great Idea of jumping out the window that made the Squad wail and Uncle Dave wonder what was going on so he came running out and …

She shook her head. Her mother handed her a tissue, and she blew her nose. Hard. “If I hadn’t had
any
Great Ideas, none of this would have happened. I’m never having a Great Idea again.”

“Sure you will, honey.”

The doctor, who had explained to Mom and Dad what type of surgery they would be doing on Uncle Dave, appeared in the doorway. “He’s in recovery now. Everything went well.”

A big sigh whooshed from Mom.

“He’ll need somebody to help him get around for a couple of weeks.” The doctor looked at Mom. “As I recall, you said he isn’t married?”

Like a lightning bolt zapping down and zinging her, Sunny knew what she
had
to do.

U
ncle Dave was el-supremo before. Now he is the complete yayness of an uncle.” Sunny bounced in the passenger side of the minivan as it turned into the ranch.

Her mother glanced at her, shaking her head. “I’m not sure he didn’t hurt his head in that fall.” At Sunny’s look of alarm, she smiled. “I’m joking. It’s just—well, I’m wondering if being Dave’s nurse, handling the zoo, and the two other horses isn’t too big a job for you. Might be easier to start with something smaller.” She reached over and squeezed her daughter’s knee. “Like, maybe finishing your schoolwork consistently?”

Sunny chewed the inside of her bottom lip. “I’m going to be the best nurse
and
ranch hand that’s ever been. You’ll see. We’ll do video chats. You can ask me, and my homework will be done!” After a sleepless night of sitting by the window, she had decided to get serious about becoming Sunny the Finisher. New Idea,
not
a Great Idea: she’d practice by being like each of the S.A.V.E. Squad. First: Aneta, the kindest and nicest of the Squad.

Her mom parked the van. Sunny leaped out and slid the side door open. “I still don’t see why you got so much microwave stuff. I do all right on my night to cook.”
Memory: burned spaghetti. Memory: Uncle Dave hates boxed mac and cheese
. “Oh.”

“Let’s just say I know sometimes it’s nice not to have to cook,” Mom said with a wink.

She was
the best
.

The front door screeched open, and three bodies hurtled out. “Sunny! Sunny!”

In the two days since she’d seen them, their grins had returned.

Before the girls descended on the minivan, Mom said quietly to Sunny, “I think you better not mention the zoo until Dave is off the pain meds. Just take care of them and don’t let them bother him. I mean it, Sunny.”

No problem, Mom. I am now a nice, helpful person who finishes things
. Sunny stepped out of the van. “You guys!” A happy spin elevated the bags in either hand. “The Squad!”

Her mother passed them, both arms laden with cloth tote bags. “Yes, I thought you might need reinforcements after school and on weekends. The doctor said Dave’s going to need help for about two weeks.”

Vee stepped forward and took one of Sunny’s bags. “That means two weekends of sleepovers and every day after school.”

“Yeah,” Esther chimed in. “We get to be part-time ranch hands!”

Aneta took Sunny’s other bag. “My mom and Gram say this is a learning and giving opportunity.”

The four girls laughed. They knew how Aneta felt about “opportunity.” It often meant she ended up doing something way out of normal. But this time it wouldn’t be. Not with
all
of them helping with the animals and Uncle Dave. Piece of cake. Especially if she was a great Aneta-type person who finished things.

In the kitchen, the girls and Sunny’s mom put away the groceries and frozen food.

“You said you were going to cook for your uncle,” Esther said, sliding box after box into the freezer. “I thought you meant, like,
real
cooking.”

“I am,” Sunny defended herself. “I’m going to make amazing breakfasts for Uncle Dave.” That part wouldn’t be like Aneta. Cooking and Aneta? Not such a good mix, the Squad and others had discovered. Think
smoke
.

“Good,” came a wobbly voice from the small living room immediately across from the big kitchen. “I like a–mm–m–mazing br–r–reakfasts.”

The girls trooped into the room. There on the couch amid a bunch of pillows lay Uncle Dave. Sunny explained to the girls in a low voice that he had pins put in his ankle and that was a fiberglass cast around his lower leg. This was a perfect opportunity to practice niceness.

“Here we are,” Sunny announced, introducing her friends. Uncle Dave’s eyes looked kind of funny, like he was looking at her but not really
seeing
her. He waved a floppy hello. Pillows were supposed to make you feel like you’re lying on a cloud, but Uncle Dave acted more like they were stone pillows. One in particular seemed to be sticking his neck out funny. Great! Time to be kind. Sunny darted forward and with a quick tug moved the pillow to the left. Uncle Dave’s head rolled with it. “We’re here to help you, Uncle Dave.”

“Ow,” he said faintly.

“Oops.” Sunny shoved the pillow back, poking him in the eye with the corner of it. He had to peer at them out of one eye.

“Right,” he said, his words slippery and slurred. “I h–hh–ope I surrrvive it.”

Everyone always smiled when
Aneta
did things like that. As long as she wasn’t cooking, she did a great job being nice and helping. It wasn’t going to work for Sunny to be like Aneta. Uncle Dave wouldn’t live through it.

Sunny’s mom left after many directions. Vee wrote them all down. Sunny’s mom raved about how organized Vee was. That decided it. Sunny’s next try on finishing: be like Vee for a few days and write down everything to do.

After his eyes fluttered closed, the girls left Uncle Dave to rest and sat around the long kitchen table surrounded by packing boxes.

“Oh, Sunny—Nadine said she’s missing you at the library.” Esther slouched in a kitchen chair.

“She says she needs one of your Great Ideas,” Aneta added.

Vee gazed around the room piled high with boxes. “Man, for a guy who’s not married, he has a lot of stuff.”

Sunny shook her head. “I don’t have Great Ideas anymore. They get me in Deep Trouble. So I’m going to be a finishing kind of kid. Like you guys.” She tucked away the thought, however, that it was fun to have Nadine think she used to have Great Ideas.

They moved on to what Uncle Dave needed help with. Vee, being Vee, pulled out her notebook and tiny pen to add to the directions for taking care of Uncle Dave.

“Wait,” Sunny said, holding out her hand for the notebook. “I want to make the list so I can finish things.”

Vee’s eyebrows hit her hairline; she slowly passed the notebook and pen to Sunny.

“You finish stuff. I want to be like you. Being like Aneta wasn’t good for Uncle Dave.”

Vee smiled. Aneta looked puzzled.

“You’re very nice. I wanted to try following through with being nice to Uncle Dave,” Sunny explained.

The light dawned in Aneta’s eyes. “Oh, and you were like me with cooking instead.”

“Right.”

Aneta nodded with a hint of a grin.

After a few minutes of Sunny contorting her face to remember what Uncle Dave had told her about the horses and what she remembered doing, she threw down the pen. “I must think harder!” She rubbed her head like her uncle did in the morning, her hair exploding in a floaty frizz. “Ahhhh!”

Aneta, Vee, and Esther tee-heed at the hairdo then plucked apples from the bowl Sunny’s mom had left on the table. Esther, sitting next to Sunny, leaned over to see the lists. Sunny covered them. “Not yet. I’m still working on them.”

“We could all make our own lists, you know,” Esther said.

“Oh, let Sunny do it. She’s not hurting anything,” Vee said, a stubborn light sneaking into her eyes.

Esther had that ready-for-battle look on her face. Now she was opening her mouth.

Sunny leaped from her seat, throwing her arms in the air. “Okay, guys, we can’t argue this time. Really. I mean it. I have to show Uncle Dave and my parents that I can actually finish something, so if you two are arguing, I know I’ll get distracted.”

Vee glared up at her. The Vee Stare full force. “I wasn’t arguing. I was giving my opinion.”

“Well.” Sunny felt deflated. She lowered herself back into the seat. “You get what I mean.”

Esther took a bite of apple and winced. “These are sour.” Suddenly she giggled. “Sunny, I promise I won’t be sour like this apple. I’ll crunch along with everyone else and help you finish stuff.”

Throwing an arm around Esther, Sunny surveyed the girls. She loved the Squad. She really did. Who else would give up free time after school and for two weekends to work hard? She frowned. Hmmm. Unless they didn’t know how hard they were going to work.

She finished the list a few minutes later and showed it to the girls. Vee said it was a great list.

“On to make dinner!” Sunny announced, springing up from the chair.

Dinner was hot dogs cooked in a frying pan on the stove with not-toasted buns. Although Sunny’s mom always toasted the buns under the broiler, the girls had agreed that it might not be a good idea to use a strange oven on night one. A microwave pan of macaroni and cheese—much more fancy than box-style—rounded out the meal. Sunny took in a plate on a tray for the sleeping Uncle Dave to have whenever he awoke.

“After the creepy carnival guy left, the zoo got friendly,” Aneta said after dinner, picking up their empty plates and heading toward the sink. “So now we do not have to un-grump them like Sunny said.” Vee joined her and together they rinsed the dishes and silverware and placed them in the dishwasher.