“Welcome to Texas!” The landlord, a pudgy little man in a brown suit who somewhat resembled a pig wearing a cowboy hat, welcomed us into our new house. It was probably about twice, maybe three-times the size as our old apartment, but I already hated it. I hated everything about it. I hated the curtains, and the gaudy looking chandelier, and the hardwood floor. “I hope you find everything to your liking. Your employer made all of the arrangements for you, and rented out the space for your stay. Let me know if you have any questions, concerns. I live just up the road, and y’all have my number.” There it was. Y’all. It was just so cliche, and I wanted to crawl under a blanket and disappear. I stormed inside, heading upstairs to pick out the room I wanted. I hadn’t said a word to mom. Not on the plane, not on the ride over. Not. A single. Word. My brain was still in shock, processing everything that had happened. I found a suitable room, went inside, and closed the door. I threw my luggage on the floor and then plopped down on the bed, which I then already began to hate. Too firm. I groaned, pulling a pillow up over my head. I already missed it. New York. And I missed Richie. I thought about he must have been there, waiting for me at the cafe, just to be disappointed. How he must have felt. How he must have looked for me. God, how I wanted to just disappear. All the promises we had made. I sniffled, and then proceeded to burst into tears. I must have cried for a good thirty minutes. I cried until I was dry heaving, and no more tears would come out. And then, despite it all, I started to think about mom. I thought about the look on her face, when she knew we had to leave. I knew she was sorry, without her even saying anything. I was still angry, but I was also confused. And I wanted answers.
“Mom!” I ran back downstairs, ready to tear her a new one- but what I saw surprised me. She was sitting on a chair in the dining room, clutching a red handkerchief and crying. “Mom?” In all the years I had known her, I had never seen her cry. Not once. It was like for the first time, I realized that she was an actual person, and not just some beautiful goddess from another planet. I paused, unsure of what to say. I went over to her, and wrapped my arms around her.
“I’m sorry, Shay.” I remained quiet, holding onto her. “I’ve tried so hard to make sure you didn’t get caught up in all this. They promised me you wouldn’t be put in danger - and yet, you had to watch a man get killed. I’ve failed you.” I thought back to Mister Amblen, sitting limp in the chair like a ragdoll, and shuddered. Even with tears sliding down her cheeks, her eyes still looked like bright jade, sparkling up at me. I couldn’t stay mad at her. Not with that look on her face.
“It’s okay, mom. But you need to tell me what the fuck’s going on.” I stared at her with a look on my face as if I were saying, ‘Yeah, I cursed. I’m making a point here.’
“Sit down.” My arms unfurled from around her, and I pulled up another chair, sitting across from her. I leaned back, staring upward for a moment, at the ceiling fan. Why was there a ceiling fan above the dining room table? This house was stupid. “Those men are..., a particular kind of breed, honey. Their work involves lending people money or services, and when they don’t get what they ask for in return..., they can get violent, as you saw. They enforce a certain kind of system.” I looked back down at her, trying to process what she was saying. “A while back, they asked me to come work for them. They set up contracts between myself and their associates, which I go work for. The associate pays those..., men, and I get an allotted cut from my contract. A long time ago, I used to find my own clients. But..., if you really want to get into an upper-class market, you have to find someone to book clients for you. Networking..., so to speak. When I met him, I thought he was just going to be my manager. I figured that he managed other women in my field, too. But as it turns out, he’s in a lot of shady business.” She paused, then added, “Mister Amblen was stealing money out from under those men, and so they felt they needed to punish him.”
“So Mister Amblen was a thief?”
“Yes.”
“Why didn’t they just call the police?”
“These people..., prefer to take justice into their own hands.”
“But isn’t that illegal?”
“...Yes. But that is their system. So to them, and those who work for them, that is..., the law, essentially.” I delved into my thoughts for a moment, until I came up with another question.
“The work you do, with these guys. Do you get paid for being their girlfriend? You’re always..., you know.” My mother took a deep, long breath.
“Sort of, honey. Sort of. Men..., are complicated, but also very simple. Some men are lonely, and want companionship. Some want the illusion of having a family. And some..., are pigs. They want a woman’s body, for-”
“Sex?” My mom gave a hesitant smile.
“Whatever void they have in their life..., I fill it. Some people think that my profession is inappropriate, but I don’t see it that way. The people I’ve met, the places I’ve been...- I have power over men. Once you figure out what a man wants, you can use it like a tool and get whatever you want. You see?” I nodded slowly. “But this life..., isn’t for everyone. I chose it long ago, and I love what I do. I love the lifestyle, and..., well, the income. You can do whatever you want in life, sweetie. If you want to be the president, you can be the president. I never meant to get you wrapped up in all this, to such an extent.” I gave a heavy sigh, and shook my head.
“It wasn’t you that dressed up in a suit, broke into our apartment, and killed a person. But...” I paused.
“You miss that boy, don’t you?” As she asked that question, I tried to speak, and practically choked. I started sobbing like a child. “Oh, honey...” It was mom that wrapped her arms around me, then. She held me, swayed a little, and ran a hand over my hair, shooshing me quietly. It wasn’t all about Richie, but mom was right. I missed him. And I would have given anything to listen to his guitar again, and let my mind travel to a far-off land. But deep down, I knew. I was never going to see him again.
With each day that passed, I loathed Texas a little bit more. I hated the twang of our neighbors accents, and their fake, friendly smiles. I thought that it would grow on me, but it didn’t. I was spending a lot of time indoors, watching television and reading magazines. I went on walks, sometimes. Our neighborhood was pretty green, at least. After a few months, I started to feel somewhat claustrophobic, so I spent a lot of time walking around aimlessly. I kept feeling like I was having deja vu, seeing this one particular woman pass by on my walks. But one evening, I wondered if perhaps it more than deja vu, or some coincidence. It felt like everywhere I went, she was following me like a looming shadow. I tried to get home, and I could feel my heart racing, thumping against my chest. Oh, great. I thought. Some crazy Republican is going to kidnap me and convert me. I made it inside; I wasn’t sure if she had actually followed me down the street or not, but I wasn’t taking any chances. I locked the door and dimmed the lights. Mom wasn’t home. Suddenly, I heard a clanking noise coming from the kitchen. “Who’s there!?” I scrambled around, looking for something I could potentially use to hit someone with. But before I could find anything, there was a man standing in front of me.
“Woah there, little lady. What’s got you so on edge?” My ears twitched. There it was, again. Little lady. The man presented before me, wearing a flannel shirt, blue jeans, and cowboy boots, was none other than Buck Shaw, my mom’s newest client. He sure as hell didn’t look like much, but he was the richest man who lived in that itty bitty town. He struck gold with one of his oil plants and made a fortune, and then opened up some race track, or something. I don’t know, I tuned out most of his story. I met him once, when he picked up mom in his red sports car. He insisted on, ‘getting to know me a little.’ But he didn’t do that; he just talked. About himself. A lot.
“...Sorry, Mister Shaw. I thought someone was following me, before. You spooked me. Is mom here?”
“Nah, she’s not here. Well, she was. She went to go get dinner for the three of us.” I felt my stomach lurch.
“The..., three of us?” I tried so hard not to give him a look of disgust. I tried to smile I little; I think it came out crooked, but I don’t think he noticed.
“Yeah, I insisted. When I heard that Cloe had a daughter, I was even more excited about our business arrangement. I’m a big family man, y’know? It’s been so long since I’ve had a good ‘ol around-the-table meal.” There it was again, Cloe. Did she pick that name, or did someone else? I wanted to say, so badly, Tina has a daughter, yeah.
“Well, we’re lucky to have you, Mister Shaw.” Now I was doing it. That fake ‘niceness’ that seemed to swallow this place whole. It left a bad taste in my mouth. “Make yourself at home.” We ate dinner, that night. Well, mom and I ate dinner. Good ‘ol Buck just talked, and talked, and talked. Was that what he needed mom for? Did he need someone to pretend to listen to him? Couldn’t he talk to his wife? I saw that gold band plastered on his finger. That also left a bad taste in my mouth. Every so often, I just looked up and nodded with a false smile. When Buck went home, I didn’t bother talking to mom about it. He was her problem, not mine. I went up to my room and drowned myself in sitcoms until my brain finally shut off.
As time went on, to my dismay, Mister Shaw spent more time at the house. He bought mom and I presents- which was nice, admittedly. Clothes, shoes, bags, hats. Once in awhile, he’d bring some little, tacky trinket that looked like it came straight from an airport gift shop. I noticed mom was staying in more, too. They spent a lot of time at the house. Together. Which meant that I was trying to find ways to get out of the house as much as possible. One night, the ‘happy couple’ went out somewhere. I went for a quick walk, but on the way back, I felt that familiar feeling of being watched. I picked up my pace and moved rather swiftly to get home. What was it with this town? I was starting to feel creeped out. When I was inside, I breathed a sigh of relief. That is, until the lights flickered on.
Oh, crap. Not again. I was afraid to turn around. “I..., need to ask you a few questions.” It was a woman’s voice, that I heard. And she sounded distressed. I turned around and confronted her. She was wearing a big, black coat. All the more perfect to stalk me in.
“Um..., miss. You can’t just come into our house, like that...” My brain was racing. Immediately, my eyes noted the locations of the phone and a nearby flower vase that I could use to bash this woman’s head in if things got ugly. “You need to leave..., okay?”
“The man that’s been coming over here. Mister Shaw, right? Is he your daddy?” Internally, I was grimacing at the mere suggestion that he could be my father. I was perfectly fine without one.
“I don’t have to answer any of your questions. Get out of our house, or I’m calling the police.” Slowly, I inched my way over to the table the phone was on. But before I could reach for it, the woman reached into her coat, pulled out a shotgun, and pointed it at me. It was the kind of gun you’d take out back to put out an old, sick dog. My brain went blank for a moment, and then I shivered. Oh my God. Not again. What is this? Should I be surprised? This is Texas, you can buy a gun at a grocery store. “Take it easy, okay? I’ll answer your questions, relax.” I eased my way down onto the table’s chair, sitting. “No, Mister Shaw is not my father. Next question.”
“You mean he doesn’t have another family?” I was perplexed at her behavior. She started sniffling, and shaking her head. “But-..., then why would he-...” Then it hit me. I saw the ring on her finger. “I could understand if he was cheating on me because he had a kid with someone else and didn’t have the nerve to break up a family, but why-...., why would he sleep with some floozy with a kid and hang out in their own house?”
“Miss-..., my mother and Mister Shaw are business partners, that’s all...”
“Don’t you lie to me, child!” She steadied the gun, and I gulped. I could feel myself sweating up a storm. The crazy wife is going to kill me, the crazy wife is going to kill me. But then, she threw the gun across the room and started to sob. “Why is this-...” She was all choked up. “Why is this h-...happening to me? Is it because I can’t have babies? That stupid son of a bitch...” She picked up the vase I was eyeballing earlier and threw it against the wall, shattering it as flowers fell against the hardwood floor. “Am I not pretty enough? Isn’t it enough that I love him, and cook for him, and clean up after him?” I had wised up, after last time. I wasn’t going to say a single word. To my relief, the door suddenly swung open.
“Dorothy, what are you doing!?” Mister Shaw came over and immediately grabbed the shotgun on the floor. Mom put up her hands for a moment, as if saying, ‘I’m out,’ and came over to grab me. Mother and I left the house immediately, leaving the two to sort out their..., business. We got in the car and drove off, without hesitating for a second.
“Does this mean we get to move to another state?” I looked at mother hopefully.
“I don’t know, honey. I don’t know.” It was then I had realized; mother had taken Mr. Shaw’s car. “This isn’t the first time I’ve had to deal with angry wives. Let’s give them a little time and see how it goes.” I wouldn’t mind.
“Why does Mister Shaw cheat on his wife?”
“He’s unhappy, sweetie. Sometimes, when you’re younger..., you think you love somebody, and later, realize that love isn’t quite so strong anymore. People grow apart, sometimes.”
“I think she thought that he was my father or something. That we were a family and he had two wives or something. Like those..., Mormon people.” My mom chuckled a little. “I can see where he’s coming from, I guess. His wife was okay-looking, but you’re gorgeous. “
“You’re just as gorgeous, my dear. Soon enough, you’re going to grow into that body and become a full-fledged woman. You’re well on your way! Look at you, thirteen. A full-blown teenager.”
“Will..., my breasts get as big as yours?”
“Don’t worry too much about that, right now. They’ll figure themselves out on their own time.” We drove to a diner, ate, and then drove back home. We stood outside for a minute first while mom had a cigarette, and then walked in. Mister Shaw was inside, sitting on the couch. His wife was not. Mom pointed me up the stairs, and I went into my room. I don’t know what they talked about that night, but the next day, it was as if it never happened.
Months came and went; we never heard from Dorothy. Sure, I was curious. But I saved those thoughts for when my mind drifted to Richie, and I needed to think about something else. They stopped spending time at our house. Their rendezvous were elsewhere, it seemed. Which meant I had the house to myself again, most of the time. When my fourteenth birthday arrived, we had an, ‘old fashioned Texas barbeque,’ in our backyard. It was me, mom, Mister Shaw, and the landlord. It was just what I wanted. No, it wasn’t what I wanted. Why were my birthdays always terrible? At least no one was going to get shot this time. I hoped. At least there’d be gifts, I thought. Sometime between wiping BBQ sauce off of my fingers and listening to Mr. Shaw’s rambling hour, mother slipped me a hundred dollar bill. The landlord..., got me a cowboy hat. Yay. And then came the box: a large box, wrapped in green paper, that Mister Shaw plopped up on the table in front of me. “Go on, sugar. Open it.” And so I did. I tore the paper off and opened up the cardboard. I gasped.
“A guitar?” There, inside the box, was an ordinary acoustic guitar. But it wasn’t ordinary the second I held it, because then, it was mine. “Mister Shaw, this is-...” actually a very nice gift for once, “wonderful, thank you!”
“You’re always listening to those records. Can ya play anything?” I paused for a moment. Could I play anything? I knew how to bullshit it, like Richie taught me. I sat, placing the guitar in my lap as I began to play a major chord, rhythmically. Then came another, and another. It sure sounded like I knew what I was doing. In my own way, I tried to emulate him.
“Wow, Shay! I never knew you could play!” Mother smiled at me and set a hand on my shoulder. As the afternoon concluded, I took my new treasure up to my room, and played random chords for a while. Then the TV came on, and I laid, and I watched, and I cried. When will I stop thinking about him? I’m tired of hurting. My grief rocked me to sleep, until the sun came up and forced me awake in the morning.
The next week, Mister Shaw invited me up to his racetrack. Of course, mother wouldn’t allow me to be rude, so off I went. I used it as an excuse to wear a pretty white dress and feathered sun-hat, like all the ladies at the track would wear in movies. I wore flat sandals, and white lace gloves. I looked like quite the chic country belle. If I had to listen to good ‘ol Buck ramble on for a few hours, I wanted to at least feel good about the way I looked. A driver had come to pick me up in a black town car, and I didn’t question it. We arrived at the track around brunch time, and I was hoping there’d be something to eat. All I’d eaten for breakfast was a bowl of generic cereal, and I was starving. Mother wasn’t much of a chef. I had assumed we’d be going to the spectator arena, but when I found Buck, he beckoned me over to a nearby field, around the back. We ended up on a dirt road, which led us up to the horse stables. “I got a new pony I was hopin’ to show ya, pretty lady. That’s a lovely dress you’ve got there, by the way. You have your momma’s taste.”
“Thank you again, for the guitar. I’ve been playing it every night.”
“Good thing, good thing. A girl your age who’s not in school needs some hobbies. Which, speaking of which...” We approached one of the stalls and, sure enough, there was the horse. Pony. Whichever it was. It was tall, but not as tall as the others we had passed. It had a thick, black mane, with a white stripe running down the front of its face. Its fur was brown and black, with furry white on its legs that ran over its hooves. It looked like it was wearing long, fuzzy socks. “Well, go on. Go say hi.” I approached the horse hesitantly; I had never been this close to one in person. When I was just a few inches away, Buck spoke again. “Move to the side a little. It can’t see ya if you’re right in front of its face.” And so I moved. The horses ears flicked a little, and its eye on that side just seemed to stare at me. “Do you like horses?” I had never really thought about it. Did I like horses? Suddenly, the horse moved its head and seemed to sniff at me. I held out my hand, and it moved its nostrils up against it. It tickled, and I couldn’t help but giggle. “Don’t be afraid of it. Horses know when you’re afraid, and it makes them unsettled. If you’re at ease, the pony will be too.” I tried my best to relax, letting my shoulders slouch as I extended an arm and patted the pony’s neck.
“Is it a girl or a boy?” I stared at the creature for a moment as I ran my hand up to pat its mane, finding myself somewhat mesmerized by it.
“That’s a girl, right there. She’s what’s called a Shire. That’s her breed name. Shires are usually pretty calm. Good to train, stable and sturdy. I got her from overseas. She’s not a racing horse; heck, I just got her for fun. I have a few horses I bought just for fun.”
“What’s her name?” Her mane was course, but still somehow very soft- her fur just as well. I really liked her colors: the white stripe, the, ‘fuzzy socks.’ She was cute, even.
“Well, that’s why I brought you down here, see. She don’t have a name yet. I was hoping that you could name her.” Suddenly, it dawned on me that this was the least terrible conversation I’ve had with Mister Shaw. And I was actually having a dialogue with him, instead of a one sided conversation. “You could come down and see her, you know. This gal here needs a friend, and I bet you could too.” For once, I was actually in agreement with him. I didn’t like the people around here, but who said I couldn’t make friends with a horse? A horse wouldn’t give off that obscene fakeness that went around. Animals are too honest for that.
“You know, Mister Shaw. I’d actually really like that.”
“Come on now, little lady. You can call me Buck.”
“Right..., Buck, then. I can name her?”
“You sure can! I haven’t filled out her paperwork yet, she just got here.” I smiled; the horse sniffed at my hair and then shook its head, ruffling its mane a little. A name, hm. I stared at the pony for a minute, contemplating. What kind of name do you give a horse? Had I heard of any other horse names? Seabiscuit. Yuck. I looked at her legs. Socks. Boots. I could picture her trotting through the snow, drawing a carriage with me riding in it, like something straight out of Cinderella. At the same time, they reminded me of the long socks that dancers would wear, like in the old Paula Abdul videos I used to watch. Still, I needed a name. What about-...
“Manhattan.” Buck looked at me, perplexed.
“That’s an odd name for a pony.”
“I want to name her after the place that I love.” I smiled, still petting her neck. “Besides, she’d fit in there, with all the snow. I could see her walking down a city street, pulling a carriage colored in little white lights...”
“You’ve got quite the imagination on ya, Shay. Still, I like it. Something different is good!” And so began my friendship with the Shire-Pony, Manhattan. And for the second time since he had given me the guitar, I was actually grateful for Buck Shaw. The racetrack wasn’t in walking distance, so I didn’t get to go whenever I wanted. But once a week, Buck would pick me up, or have a driver pick me up, and take me back to the stables. I learned how to feed Manhattan, and how to brush and wash her. She licked me a lot, when I fed her. It always gave me the giggles. Such a gentle giant. At least, she was a giant to me. She was sturdy for a pony, just like Buck said. Which was a good thing, when I decided I wanted to learn how to ride her. It was a process of trial and error- figuring out how to best get on her. Stirrups were really useful. She looked good in a saddle, I always thought. And so Buck or one of the attendants would lead us around on a leash, while I grew accustomed to it. My legs were sore, the first few times, and then I started to get used to it. By the time Spring came around, I could ride her by my lonesome, and take her out on the field. I wasn’t sure if Buck was trying to get to know me because my mother asked me to, or if he just felt a little sorry for me. But either way, as much as I hated to admit it, he had grown on me a little. He was even starting to remind me of my faint memories of Hank, my mom’s old-..., well, now I could assume that he was a client. He was the only one that I could kind of remember.
Weather in Texas was peculiar. It would suddenly begin to rain for about ten minutes, gloomy and overcast, and then the weather would be picture-perfect sunshine, as if the sun was actually smiling and rainbows and bunnies and all that jazz. Though on one random March morning, the rain didn’t let up, and clouds covered up a blue country sky. Around dinner time, I heard a knock on the door, and answered. Both mother and Buck were here, occupied in the kitchen. And by that I mean, making out while pretending to cook. As I looked at who was standing there, I gasped audibly. It was him. The suit leader. I was too terrified to say a single word. “Good eve-e-ning, Shay. My, you’ve gotten bigger. Don’t be..., alarmed. I’ve come here to speak with your mother and Mister Shaw. I was told that he was here. Don’t you worry your little head, there’s not going to be any funny business. I’m really sorry about all of that, by the way.” I stared at him, unsure of what to say.
“Mom!” I called out for her; she and Buck made their way to the door. As they saw who it was, mother grew still, but Mister Shaw, on the other hand...
“Well hello there, boss! Good to see ya, good to see ya!” He came up to the suit leader and shook his hand. “Come on in, get out of the rain! We were just about to eat, why don’t you join us?”
“Very well. I do believe I will. Will the..., child, be joining us?” He gave my mom some kind of look, and I think I saw her shudder.
“Shay, we’re going to have you eat in your room, okay? We need to have some boring grown-up talk. I’ll bring you up a plate.” I nodded curtly and went upstairs as my mind raced with questions. Sure enough, after a while, mother brought me up a plate a food.
“Mom-...” I called out for her as she was walking out the door.
“Don’t worry, honey. It’ll be just fine.” As she closed the door, I bolted out of bed and pressed my ear up against it. When I heard the thumping cease after mother had made her way down the stairs, I slipped out the door quietly, tip-toed down the stairs, and swerved right into the kitchen. I couldn’t see them, but I could hear them.
“Mister Shaw. Do you remember, when I did you that favor, and you said you’d do one for me in exchange?”
“Are you talking about-..., well, you know...”
“When I rescued your cat from a tree branch? No shit that’s what I’m talkin’ about. I’m talking about when you got sick of your wife and had us get rid of her for you.” Oh shit. Shit. Shit. Shit. Did Buck have his wife murdered? Oh, God. What is wrong with these people? “Really, Mister Shaw. Use your brain.”
“What do you want?” Mister Shaw’s voice grew stern.
“What do I always want from you?”
“I already gave you your cut the races this month.”
“I want you to fix the race next week. That one horse, what’s his name...- the one that’s getting really popular. Get everyone to vote on him, say he’s gonna be a winner. Have him tank, we need the profits.”
“Boss, with all due respect. It keeps getting harder and harder to fix these races. People are gettin’ smart about it, y’know?” For a moment, I thought I could hear mother whimpering between the two men speaking. I sunk back against the wall, involuntarily drenching myself in my own nervous sweat.
“You’re going to do exactly what I’m telling you to do, Mister Shaw. Otherwise, I just might forget to renew your contract with Cloe. It’s over at the end of next month, you know. And don’t you need the money to keep paying for her? She has..., plenty of other potential buyers, who may be looking to pay more than you are.”
“That’s outrageous! I’m paying a fortune for her!”
“But technically, we’re just lending her to you. And I can take her from you whenever I want, contract or not. Or have you forgotten the terms of our original arrangement?”
“Don’t be threatenin’ me, now. Cloe and her daughter are happy here, and they make me happy. I’m gonna keep it that way. I’ll do what you want, so you can calm right down. I was just expressin’ my concern.”
“I’m glad we could come to an..., understanding. You’ve grown pretty attached to those two, haven’t you? They must be fulfilling whatever fantasy it is you have in your head.” The suit raised his voice, then. “Enough. Get up.” Who was he talking to? “We’ll be in touch very, very soon. Always a pleasure, Mister Shaw.” Before they had a chance to get up and walk around, I slid against the wall and made my way to the front of the house, quietly slipping out the front door. I’d had about enough of all that. I went to the side of the house and waited for the suit to leave. Moments later, Buck was headed for his car, and I made myself known.
“Hey.” I approached him, and he stared at me. For once, he was quiet. “I know it’s late, but can we go to the stables? Please?” Good plan, Shay. Ask the murderer to get into his car with him. Murderer. That word kept ringing through my brain like a fire alarm. I couldn’t look him in the eyes. But in that moment, a single desire was dominating my brain. I wanted to see my horse. I wanted to see Manhattan. And so, after a silent drive, we were there. Even as I got out of the car, not a word was said. I hugged my sock-wearing pony and laid down in the hay. Sometime, in the late hours of the night, the two of us fell asleep.
When the day of the race came, Buck invited mom and I to attend. His fixed race. Mom was right, some men really were scum. She told me that she knew how to control them, but it always seemed like they controlled her life. I couldn’t see it, then. I didn’t understand it. All I could do was try and clear my head. Mother and I, looking as fabulous as ever in our floral sundresses and hats, accompanied him. It was a sunny April day, and there was green across the countryside. The racetrack was packed and as crowded as ever; I had never seen it so, when I was there before. It really breathed a whole new life into the place. And of course, before the show began, I said hello to my darling Manhattan. “Don’t worry, you don’t have to compete in some race to be the best. You already are.” I gave her a carrot and a hug before rejoining Buck and my mother in the stadium. Everyone was staring at us. I figured it must be weird for everyone to see such a well-known, local figure with another woman so soon after the passing of his wife. Who he had murdered! I couldn’t stress that thought enough. It made me feel nauseous. Truth be told, I was somewhat sad to lump Buck in with the suits. I was never his biggest fan, but still. That was a whole new kind of low. I had seen and heard so much, by then; I just wanted to erase it all. And so, for the time being, I settled on watching the horses with the other enthusiasts.
It was the first time I had ever really watched a horse race. People seemed so excited, each time their favorite horse ran around the track. The star of the show was a stallion named Otis; though apparently, he was going to tank at some point. I felt bad for all of those cheering fans, who were about to lose their money. Surely, there must be some retribution for the wicked, I thought. And so I watched, grateful for the fact that mother and I looked fabulous, considering people had been staring at us ever since we got there. As the race went on, everything seemed to shift into slow-motion. The horses, the people rising from their seats. The yelling seemed to mute itself in my ears as space simply decided to distort itself around me in my own mind. And then, faces turned angry, fists were raised, and I watched Otis tumble off to the side. I felt my own brand of sorrow, for the horse. I imaged what it feel like if it was Manhattan who had fallen over in pain, or sickness. My head tilted, and I stared at Buck Shaw. And in that moment, I felt a wave of anger wash over me. Anger, as I watched that look of feigned shock on his face. Anger as I saw mother trying to console him. Maybe it all became real for me, then. His wife, who had been so crazy as to break into my house with a shotgun, seemed less defenseless to me, perhaps. But to hurt an innocent animal was going to far. But what was I to do? I couldn’t say anything- I couldn’t betray my mother. I didn’t understand her choices, but she was still my muse. I loved her, despite everything. Everything we had been through, together. Suddenly, the crowd around us swooped in like an angry pack of vultures, attacking Mister Shaw in all of their fury. And as that tidal wave crashed, the world shifted back into focus and snapped into real time.
I screamed. There were limbs everywhere, punching and throwing themselves around. Security was trying to seize the rioting hordes of people who, in their loss, were no longer the, ‘fancy horse-watching socialites,’ but were now primal cavemen fighting over a scrap of meat. Mother tried to grab me, but the chaos separated us. I saw someone punch Buck right in the face, and before too long, I heard sirens. Mom and I found our way to each other, but before I realized what was going on, Mister Shaw was taken away in handcuffs. “They know.” Mother grabbed me by the hand and dragged me off. Mister Shaw was right when he told the suit that it would be hard to fix a race. Someone must have slipped up. Mother went over to a police officer and attempted to get us a ride home, or to the station, or wherever; and suddenly, a thought occurred to me. I slipped away from all of the crazy and went to see Manhattan, for what I thought might be the last time. There was a fury boiling inside of me that I knew only she could soothe. I saddled her up, and took her out into the fields where we always rode. I didn’t even care that I was wearing a dress. I straddled her and we galloped into a clearing. After a while, I let her slow and just wander around a little with me on her back. I slouched forward a little, hugging her neck and running my fingers through her thick mane.
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