The News in Small Towns (Small Town Series, Book 1) (23 page)

“I guess I can understand that,” I said.

“He was just a lil ole man who thought he was special.  He thought he was so special that he was god.  And a lot of other people thought so too—still think so.  Can you imagine being special enough to someone that they actually think that you’re god?  I keep that picture near me so that ah’ll remember that anybody can be special if they trah hard enough.”  She took a hit of her cigarette and continued, “He lahked music, too, and some of us would go down to the beach at naht and play our instruments and sing some of his poems that we’d put music to.  Ah was playin one when you walked in.  An that’s where ah got mah Gretsch.  Bought it off a guy that was givin away all his worldly goods.  He gave me a good deal because it was custom made for a lefty.”

“Where did you learn to play?” I asked.

“Mah daddy played some and ah got it off him, but Myrtle Beach is where I really learned my chops.”

I rolled up my maps and stood up.  “I have to go feed Alikki,” I said.  “And there’s still some things I need to get settled with Jack.  He’s leaving on Wednesday.”

“He’s not goin to take mah picture?” she asked.

“Next time,” I said, and walked toward the door.

Sue-Ann?” her voice made me turn my head.

“Umm?”

“You really love me?”

If ever there was a time when I blushed, that was it.  If there was a place I could have hidden my face, I would have hidden it.  “God,” I managed.  “I can’t believe I really said that to you.”

“You
really
love me?” she persisted, but this time it was as if the words had finally sunk in, and there was wonder in her voice.

I only nodded.  “I’ll see you,” I said.

“Call me every day or ah’ll kill you,” she said.

Chapter 15

That night I lay awake again, but this time it was a pleasant wakefulness.  Never in my life had I entertained feelings for another woman.  But unless my thyroid was turning my mind inside out, the feelings I had for Gina were not only real, but more powerful and more calming than I had ever had for anyone else.  It was all so new and strange that I felt like I was fifteen again.  Had I known that I loved her before I actually said it?  The thought gave me a chill.  I don’t know if I dreamed of Gina when I finally fell asleep, but let’s say I did, and when I woke up just after dawn, I was happy and refreshed.

I walked into the kitchen in a short nightgown and turned on the coffeemaker.  Kitty Amin walked between my legs and out his cat door and I thought I heard a low whicker from outside.  I opened the door and in the half darkness I saw Alikki standing in the barnyard, a long rope of placenta trailing from her birth cavity, watching a tiny horse taking wobbly steps toward her.  Forgetting the coffee, I ran outside almost as naked as the foal.  I slowed my approach almost to a tiptoe and reached them just as the baby was rooting around for a teat.  I heard slurping and gulping.  I petted and cooed over Alikki, then, with hesitation, put my hand on the foal, which looked to be totally black.  She was a filly and she was still wet.  As I touched her, she turned her head and looked at me curiously, then went back to nursing.

I ran into the house for towels and iodine and carrots, then looked into Cindy’s room and screamed, “Jack.  I have a baby horse!  Get up!  Get your camera!  Quick!”  Without waiting to do more than see Jack open his eyes and grunt, I grabbed what I had been wearing the day before and ran back outside.  The foal was still nursing.  Being as gentle as I could be, I swathed the baby’s navel stump with iodine.  As I was getting into my clothes, the foal pulled away from mama and faced me.  I was captivated and moved closer.  I looked into her eyes and breathed into her nostrils.  After a while I moved around her so that I could contain her in my arms, one arm around her rump and the other across her neck.  I spoke many words to her so that she would get used to my voice.  I traced my hand down each perfect leg and cupped her fluffy little tail. 

I fed Alikki half a carrot, and she crunched it with the satisfaction of a horse that has done a pretty fine morning’s work.  I could tell she was proud of her little girl and I was proud of her.  I had only had her a few days, but already she had settled down into her new life with me and she was getting more comfortable and healthier each day.  Her hide was growing new hair where the raw places had been.   I could even see where her bones were gradually receding into her flesh, rewarded by access to real feed, pasture, and exercise.  Kitty Amin was perched on the stall door, watching what was going on with interest.  When Jack came out with his camera, my face was resting on the neck of the baby and Alikki’s face was resting on my shoulder.  No picture that Jack ever takes will be worth more.

She was a beautiful little filly and I decided then and there to call her Enemy Hunter; little Emmy.  After all, an A-line Hanovarian mare crossed with an offspring of Billie Gay Bar was an unbeatable combination.  I hoped that if I ever saw her namesake again that he would approve.

Emmy was getting curious and began walking around the barnyard, followed closely by her mama, still trailing her afterbirth.  The vet had warned me about this and told me what to do, so I caught up to her and, with effort, tied the placenta in a knot so that it wouldn’t drag in the dirt.  After a while, Emmy had enough of baby steps and now began a long-legged canter around the barnyard, followed again by Alikki, who whickered softly once or twice.  Jack was snapping away and I just sat back and watched this new part of my life as she scampered and gamboled.  I could hardly believe it—she was less than two hours old and she was already cantering like a Grand Prix winner.

After fifteen minutes or so, the placenta disengaged from Alikki.  I knew it should be examined for completeness—any afterbirth that stayed inside her could cause serious infection—but I had never examined a placenta for completeness before.  Only then did I think of calling the vet, and I rushed inside and dialed his number.  When he answered, I found I couldn’t speak fast enough and I began throwing out armfuls of words at once.  He stopped me by asking, “Who is this?”

“Sorry,” I said.  “I’m a little excited.  This is Sue-Ann McKeown on Pine Basin Road.  You came out last week to check on my mare.”

“Oh, right.  So I guess she had her foal.”

“A couple of hours ago.  Can you come out and take a look at them?  I would have called you last night if I had known it was going to happen.”

“Horses have been giving birth by themselves for thousands of years.”

“I know,” I said.  “But this is
my
horse.”

“I’ll be out in an hour or two, but from that jumble of information you gave me at first, it sounds like mother and daughter are doing fine.”

“Should she be running around the barnyard like she is?  Should I put her in a stall?”

“Let her run around.”

“I saved the placenta,” I told him.

“I’ll see you in a while,” he told me.

As soon as he hung up, I called Gina at the office. 

“Pahn Oak Courier, Ginette Cartwraht speakin’,”

“Gina,” I told her excitedly, “Alikki had her foal this morning.  We have a baby horse!”

“Already?  Wowie zowie.  Ah cain’t wait to see—it’s a filly?”

“How did you know?”

“Ah jist knew.  Ah cain’t wait to see her.  Did you give her a name yet?”

“Enemy Hunter.  It’s a long story.  I call her Emmy.”

“It’s a nahce name, honey,” she told me.  “Weird but nahce.  Ah’ll try to come out about lunch tahm.”

The vet came and went before Gina arrived.  Emmy had gotten a clean bill of health and Alikki was much better than she had been the first time he had seen her.  He went ahead and gave her West Nile vaccine and took blood for a Coggins test.  He also took a check for a couple hundred dollars that I hoped wouldn’t bounce.  Jack had gone out to buy a few things he needed for his trip.

Gina seemed preoccupied when she arrived, but she brightened up when she saw Emmy.  “Little Enemy Hunter,” she said.  I showed Gina how to imprint herself on the filly, petting her, looking her in the eyes, breathing her breath, containing her, letting the filly sniff her.  I brought soft drinks outside where we sat in lawn chairs and watched Alikki munch hay while Emmy zonked out at her feet.

“I can’t believe that all these good things are happening to me,” I told her.

Gina took my hand and held it.  “In three or four years, mebbe we can take these two out on a trail together,” she said.

“I can show you the plank road,” I told her.

“The what?”

“Oh my god, I forgot to tell you about the plank road last night.  You remember Cal asking me to write up something about the Plank Festival?”

“Um hmm. But that’s a ways off yet, ain’t it?”

“A ways, but I wanted to get a head start on it so I did some research.”

I briefly described the mention of a plank road in
The History of Jasper County
, then I told her about my actually finding part of the road near The Compound.  “Here’s something else I forgot to mention,” I continued,. “Pine Oak used to be called Torrington.”

“Ah never heard that.”

“The town was founded by a guy named Cecil Torrington in 1830.”

“The same last name as Krista,” Gina said.

“Right, and according to the information I got on line, The Compound is owned by somebody named Ashley Torrington.”

“Descendents of the original settlers?” she asked.

“It seems likely.” 

“Think Krista has anything to do with the goat?”

“No,” I answered, then reflected.  “I don’t know.   Damn it, Gina, I’m this close to figuring it all out, but it seems that everything new I learn complicates things more.”  I brushed a few strands of hay off my shirt.

“Do you know that Pauley Hughes has disappeared?” I asked her.

“Cal told me.  Sue-Ann, ah think that boy’s twisted a couple a turns too tight.”

“I think so too,” I said.

Gina brightened up suddenly.  “But guess what?” she began.  “Goth Girl’s not Goth Girl any more.”

“What do you mean?”

“I saw her.”

“Where?”

“Well, um, Cal came over after you left yesterday and we talked some.  Then we went over to Ray Colley’s for a few minutes—he wanted to show Cal his new driver.  While we were there, Becky came out of her room dressed like a normal teenager.” 

“She’s in love,” I told her.

“With who?”

“With Jack.”

“You don’t mean your Jack?  Ah, mean the Jack that’s stayin here?”

“Well, yeah, that Jack.  But Jack has made her love herself, too.  He went over to her house and took some pictures yesterday. 
She
called
him
.  They went through every outfit she had and then went out and bought more.  The pictures are great.  She has a dozen different ways to be Becky; she doesn’t need to be Goth Girl and hang around losers.”

“Anyway, Ray said it was just about the shock of his lahf.  Becky wants him to take her shopping for cameras.”

“Cameras?” I said.  “Well, I guess Jack’s not the worst person in the world to emulate.”  But it was hard for me to think about Becky Colley.  All I could think about was that Cal had gone over to Gina’s after I left.  That they had talked some.

“You think Pauley’s out there in those woods?” Gina asked.

“I don’t know.  Maybe.  I’ll take a bow when I go out there.”

“You’ll take
me
when you go out there.  And maybe ah’ll take a bow, too.  When are you going to go?”

“I don’t know.  Soon.  I’ll let you know.”

We quieted down for a few seconds and could hear the rapid breathing of the filly, the munching of hay by her mother.

“I need to tell you about her name,” I began.  I took a breath and continued.  “When I was in Baghdad I met this marine lieutenant from Montana.  He’s a Crow Indian named Oscar Enemy Hunter.  I only knew him for twenty-four hours, but in a way he made me look past all the bureaucratic bullshit that was going on, all the fighting and killing and well drilling.  He joined the cavalry so he could be near horses.  And when he got to Baghdad he gravitated to the Iraqi horses—fabulous Arabians with thousands of years of breeding.  He made me see that some things are universal, some kinds of love and respect, and I wanted to honor him by giving our horse his name.  She’s the Enemy Hunter, and the enemies are hate and distrust and greed and prejudice.  And chaos.  The day I spent with Ossie Enemy Hunter was my last day in Iraq.  I never saw him again or heard from him.  Maybe someday you and I can go up to Montana to the Crow Fair that he told me about, where the whole tribe gets together to celebrate like we celebrate the Plank Festival.”

We were silent for a while, gazing out over the forest.  The pines looked like giant arrows and the sky was target blue.  In the paddock, Alikki still kept watch over her sleepy foal, Gina stroked my hand, and all seemed right with the world.

“Sue-Ann,” Gina said at last.

“Hmm?”

“Cal asked me to marry him,” she said.  It was pretty much a mood breaker and I pulled my hand away.

“I slept with Jack last night,” I lied stupidly.  “What did you tell him?”

“Ah said ah’d think about it,” she said.  “Whah did you sleep with him?”

“I don’t know.  I was drunk.  “What do you mean you’d think about it?  Why didn’t you just say yes?”

“You know whah,” she began, but I cut her off.

“And damn it, Gina, if you want me to smoke you have to give me cigarettes.”

“What?”

“Give me a goddam fucking cigarette!”

We were both smoking like trains before I finally spoke again.  “Are you pregnant?”

“That’s a nasty question, Sue-Ann,” Gina said carefully.  “Ah caint get mad because if ah were you, ahd’ve ast the same thing.  But the answer’s no, ah’m not.”

“Do you love Cal?”  Gina didn’t answer.  “Do you?” I repeated.

“Not as much as ah love you,” she said softly.

I jumped up from my chair with half a thought of practicing my archery, or maybe taking a walk in the woods.  Instead, I turned around to look at her.  She was sitting kind of slumped in her lawn chair, holding her cigarette tightly.  I blinked.  “You love me?” I asked blankly.

Gina nodded.  “Ah do.”

“And you’re going to marry Cal?”

“Ah didn’t say that.  Ah said that he’d ast me.”

I sat back down beside her but purposefully looked away into the distance.  I took up her pack of cigarettes and lit another for myself without offering one to her.

“Sue-Ann,” she began.  “We’re both girls.  How could we make it work?  What if someone found out?  You know how the news travels.”

I nodded.  “You’re right.  What’s the point of taking that kind of chance?  You should do it.  He’s the best man in Pine Oak and you’re the best woman.  You’re natural together.  You’ll have nice kids.  You’ll be great on the PTA board.”  My voice was rising, but I couldn’t control it.   “You can buy a station wagon and be a soccer mom.  You can—”