Ghost Medicine (18 page)

“Thank you. I could've done better, though.” I cleared my throat and continued, “Me and Tom are going on a campout to -night, so we'll be back in at the ranch Monday morning if that's okay, sir. My dad said it was.”

“That's fine, Troy. Have a good time.”

I didn't say anything about Gabe because I wasn't really sure if he had told his father or not.

The sun was starting to get low and I knew I'd have to get Reno on his way to the fire pit soon so we could take it real slow getting there. I wanted to find Tommy and Gabe to let them know. I hoped to find Luz, too, so I could tell her good-bye.

George Hess was still pouring beers when I got back to the livery. I apologized to Reno for putting that saddle and halter back on him, but I kept him without a bit, like I always did, and then I led him out into the street. Every time Art Benavidez saw me riding like that he would scowl, sometimes calling me an Indian, but I never saw the sense in putting a metal bar in a horse's mouth. At least, not one like Reno.

“Nice try, number seven,” Chase Rutledge called out from the front of the store. He was smoking a cigarette with Jack Crutchfield. Nobody liked Jack except for Chase. He was one of those useless, overfed, and spoiled kids who got everything he wanted and just seemed to make Chase more powerful and more difficult when he stood behind him.

I didn't say anything, just pretended like I didn't hear him at all.

I found Tommy and Gabe over by the truck. The engine was already running, so I knew Tom was anxious to leave.

“We're going to get the horses and we'll meet you out there,” Tom said. “If you want, I could switch to the stock trailer for Reno, too.”

“That's okay. If you bring it tonight, though, we could all ride out together tomorrow. We'll be walking it slow. I'll see you there,” I said. I knew he wanted me to leave with him right now. I looked around, scanning the crowd by the beer kegs. “Where's your sister, Gabe?”

“She went over there to get a soda,” he said, pointing to the big lawn outside the community center.

“Uh-oh,” Tommy said and then got in behind the wheel.

“I'll see you guys there, then.”

They drove off, me wondering what they'd be talking about right now, looking across at Luz sitting in the cool grass there, drinking a canned soda. I walked over to her and let go of Reno's reins. He took a couple big chomps out of the grass, and I hoped nobody was watching.

“Mind if number seven sits down with you for a second?”

She just smiled and patted the grass beside her. I sat real close. Our knees and feet touched.

“We're all camping out at the fire pit tonight,” I said. “I know you can't get away, but maybe you could ride out that way in the morning.”

“Don't tell me you boys are going to cook breakfast.”

“I was actually hoping you'd bring it.”

I put my hand on top of hers there in the grass. I couldn't see her parents anywhere.

“Maybe for five hundred dollars.”

“It's a date then,” I said. I set my sweaty hat down in the grass beside me and plucked at a few blades, letting them fall onto the brim. “Luz, I just wanted to tell you that you've … that this past year has been…” And then I stopped and inhaled a deep breath and pulled my one knee up to my chest.

“I love you, Luz.”

I felt her squeeze my hand. I looked at her and it looked like she was going to cry.

“I love you so much, Troy Stotts. Rider number seven.”

And I know we would have kissed then, in spite of everyone being there, but we both heard her father calling out, “Luz! Luz!” from across the street. And I couldn't say anything else.

Reno and I walked slowly along the south shore of the lake toward our fire pit, that red bandana tied like a flag around the knob of his saddle horn, the wrinkled number seven pinned with four brass safety pins to my chest; me staring straight ahead and not really seeing anything that was there, just taking it all in, and imagining myself sitting on that cool grass next to Luz Benavidez, feeling the touch of her hand on my body.

The last bit of sun was just going down. Bats zipped and flitted between the trees, clicking, sometimes coming right down in front of my face.

Out on the still and smooth lake, turning black at the edges and lighter than the sky in the middle, little circles popped up where fish broke the surface. The evening smelled like horse and pine and dry summer dust as we moved along; me swinging back and forth with that comfortable and confident gait of Reno's. A baby hawk screeched from somewhere high in the trees.

Isn't this about the most beautiful place in the world, Troy?

It was.

I rode past the big rocks where we would swim the next morning, cutting in along a narrow trail beside the shore. I took my hat off and brushed my hair back and then put it back on, tilted back a little so I could see the sky, the first stars beginning to shine, and the pale piece of moon climbing up behind the black trees on the other side of the water.

I could see a spiraling wisp of smoke rising from the trees in front of me, a glow casting yellow light between the trunks at the bottom. I could hear Tommy and Gabe laughing. They had already begun the ritual, the telling of stories, the jokes, the laughter, the routine we had followed so regularly for so many years that came and went and came and went.

They didn't notice when I stopped Reno back in the shadows of the trees and sat there, watching them, Tommy sitting on that old saddle in the dirt, facing the fire with his boots up on the ring of rocks that contained it, drinking from a tall red plastic cup. And Gabe, standing on the other side, flailing his arms around in some weird dance like a crippled bird and then falling down, talking loudly about something I couldn't tell, and then them both erupting in laughter.

“What's so funny?” I said and rode Reno into the light.

“It's about time you got here,” Tommy said, and then stood up. “Hey, Stottsy, look what I got.”

I got down from Reno, led him toward the truck where the other horses stood, and Tommy turned on the headlights. In the bed there was one of those kegs of beer, sitting in a galvanized tub of melting ice. I unbuckled Reno's saddle and threw it over the side of the truck.

“George Hess just told me to take it and bring it back empty. He was so happy, I think he'd never made so much money off that race before, so he just said for me to take that beer and go.”

“Maybe Clayton just didn't shake him down for his cut yet,” I said.

I took my hat off and threw it in the window on the passenger side. “And I bet you didn't argue with him about that. Is there any left?”

Tommy grabbed one of the cups sitting down in the ice in that tub. “Let me pour you one, number seven.”

I looked down at my chest, that number still pinned straight. “I will, then.”

He handed me a cup, foaming over white and frothy. I drank it all right away and Tom took it back from me, saying, “Dang!” before filling it a second time.

“Gabey! Gabey! Come on over. You said you'd have one, too, when Stotts got here!” Tommy said, cheeks reddening. “Come on, Gabey!”

“Well, okay.”

Gabe walked around to the gate of the truck and took the cup from Tommy.

“Drink, my son, straight from the altar of the temple of F one-fifty,” Tom said, and made a cross in the air with a cup, teasing Gabriel.

Gabe took a gulp, like he had seen me do, but I could tell he nearly gagged on it.

“This stuff is nasty,” he said, frowning.

“It grows on you,” I said.

We carried our beers, walking through the white of the headlights, and took our places around the fire.

“Stoke! Stoke!” Tom said to me.

I grabbed two thick branches from the pile beside me and crossed them on top of the flames, then added two more across those and the fire kicked up so it was taller than any of us. Tommy sat, leaning back on that old worn saddle, and Gabe and I sat to either side of him, right on the ground, backs propped against rocks that we had placed just perfectly, so our knees would be bent with our feet up on the fire ring. Tommy pulled a can of tobacco from his back pocket, snapped it down three times, then took out a small wad and without saying anything or even looking at me, launched the can like a flying saucer to land right on my lap. I took some, too, and tossed the can back.

Gabe was still frowning from the taste of the beer.

“I wasn't sure you'd make it, Gabey,” I said.

“Well, I had to promise my dad I'd be home in the morning for church.”

“You could've promised to grow wings and fly there, too,” Tommy laughed.

“We were going to go swimming at the rocks,” I said.

“It won't be the first time I get in trouble for missing church,” Gabe said.

“We'll baptize you in the lake,” Tommy said. “It's just as good.”

“You know what my dad said, Troy?”

“What?”

“Don't get mad or nothing, but he said the only person he knows who needs to go to church more than me is
Troy Stotts
.”

“I guess I might as well be sitting here drinking beer with Satan himself as much as you two, then,” Tommy said, and we laughed. “In fact, I think I'll have another.”

“Bring one back for the devil, too.” I handed him my empty cup.

“Good man, Stottsy.” He dragged his feet and almost tripped going back to the truck.

“Why do you think he'd say that?” I said.

“I know,” Tommy called from behind me as he poured those beers. I could hear him walking back toward the fire now. “I know. It's ‘cause of Luz. That girl wants you, Stotts. I can see it.”

Gabe smiled and looked at me like he was expecting me to say something. Well, I wasn't going to say it, anyway. He took another sip and grimaced.

“I've seen Mr. Benavidez geld a horse,” I said, instead, “and he wouldn't think twice about doing that to me, too.”

Tommy handed me down my beer and went back to the saddle.

“You know, Stottsy, that was the other bet George Hess was taking money on. Whether you'd still have your balls when you turn seventeen or if they'd be in a jar on display somewhere in Art Benavidez's office.”

Gabriel laughed loud, spitting a spray of beer.

“What's the money favoring so far?” I said.

“Doesn't look good for your boys.”

Gabe said, smirking, “And he's got someone's in there. In that office. I seen ‘em.”

“Those would be yours, Gabey,” Tommy said and then spit and we all laughed.

I drank my beer down. It tasted real good. Even Gabe finished his and said, “I'm hungry. Let's break out the food.”

“You bring stuff to eat, Tom?” I asked.

“I always do.”

Gabe stood up and I reached out my hand to him. “Help me up and let's get it.”

Gabe pulled and I almost toppled forward right into him.

“You're drunk, Stotts,” Tommy observed, still reclining back on that saddle.

“I know. You want another?”

He handed up his cup, and I took Gabe's from him. “You're having another, too, Gabey.”

Gabriel and I went to the truck. I poured out three beers and Gabe opened up the leather saddlebags draped over Arrow's saddle. He pulled out a bag of chips, some peanuts, and a package of jerky.

“Looks like Tommy brought health food,” I said.

“It's all they eat at the Bullers'.”

We went back to our places by the fire and sat and drank and ate for a while, staring into those flames. I was feeling a little rubbery, and I saw Gabe working hard on that second beer of his, but soon he started to get that reddening color in his face, too, and I knew he was getting drunk.

“I want Stotts to tell us a story,” Tom said.

“How about Gabey doing it this time?” I asked.

“I'll do it,” Gabe said.

“Well, okay then,” said Tom.

I put some more branches on top of the fire.

“This happened a long time ago, before you and your dad came here, Tom,” Gabe began. “But I think it's a kind of good story about me and Troy. I don't remember exactly how old I was, but I was either just in kindergarten or first grade, probly, and Troy would have been about eight or nine.”

Gabe took a sip and leaned back against his rock. “We decided to build a fort in front of our house one day.”

“I remember that,” I said.

“Good. But I'm still telling the story, so shut up. Our moms were inside doing something and they pretty much forgot all about us since we weren't bugging ‘em. I don't know where Luz was then, but it was just me and Troy and we started digging this big hole for our fort right out under the willow tree in our front yard.”

I remembered the day, our mothers sitting and drinking coffee together. It was kind of strange hearing Gabriel talk about my mother. It made me feel a bit sad at first, but it also felt good to know that he had a picture of her in his head, too.

Gabe went on. “We used big shovels from out of the barn and plywood and stuff. It seemed like we were out there for hours digging on that thing because it was pretty big.”

“Or we were pretty small.” And I remember thinking as we sat by our fire and Gabe told his story that I supposed that all boys dug forts and played on roofs.

“Yeah, well, we were both covered with dirt by the time my dad came home and when he saw what we had done to the yard he looked like he could've killed us. First he went in the house and got mad at my mom ‘cause she didn't know what we were doing and then he came out to get us and his eyes looked like a demon's.”

“How would you know? You were hiding.”

“Well, I did hide under the plywood roof, thinking my dad wouldn't find me. You remember what he called us, Troy?”

“Dirty little goats.”

“Yep. He said, ‘I don't work this hard around here to have some dirty little goats tear up my property.' And I was so scared I practically peed my pants.”

“You did, I think.”

“Shut up.” We both took another drink of beer, and Gabe went on, “But then Troy says to him, ‘It was my idea, Mr. Benavidez. I'm sorry, I'll fix it back. Gabe didn't have anything to do with it.' And I still don't know why he said that.”

“ ‘Cause I thought he would really kill you, and I knew he wouldn't hurt me ‘cause he and my dad were friends.”

“So then, he takes us both in the house to our moms, and we're both covered with dirt and making a mess all over, which made my mom mad, but I think my dad wanted us to get dirt all over the place. And then he says to Troy's mom, ‘I'd never hit another man's son, but your Troy owes me a bit of work.' And Troy's mom tells him to go ahead and hit Troy if he wants to.”

“Yeah, and that's when I almost peed in
my
pants.”

“And so then my dad grabs Troy by the shirt and walks him out to the stable and makes him rake out a row of stalls.”

“Well, it wasn't just that,” I said. “ ‘Cause I'd never been that close to horses before and I was so scared of ‘em. And he took me out to the stables where he had some giant horses in there and he hands me a rake and says, ‘Clean ‘em all up.' And he made me get in the first stall with the biggest horse I ever saw and I was so terrified that it would kill me. He looked so big that I could stand up and walk under his belly without messing up my hair and I was crying I was so scared of him, but I didn't make a sound, and I remember the tears just dripping off my face as I worked. And Gabe's dad just says, ‘Don't just stand there, you've got a lot of cleaning up to do so you better get to it. Ignore the horse. He doesn't care about you.'

“So I started raking and crying at the same time. And while I did, Mr. Benavidez sat down on a crate and smoked a cigar and read aloud to me these weird scary stories that were like poems. I still remember them, by Octavio Paz, he said. And I don't know why, but I thought
that
was really scary, too.”

“He read those to me all the time,” Gabe interrupted. “I remember the creepy one about the guy who took people's eyeballs.”

I looked at Gabe, knowing the story, and continued, “Then Luz came out there and she kissed her dad and then she laughed at me, but she said I was doing a real good job and one day maybe her daddy would hire me to work there.

“I raked out seven stalls and then he said I could stop. When I came out of that last stall, he bent down and put his face right to the top of my head and he grabbed me and put his big thumbs right on my face and wiped at my tears and I heard him take a deep breath in and he said, ‘There. Now you smell like a horse. Do you like it?' And I was so scared I just said yes. And then he said I should go home and let my dad smell me, too. And then when he was taking me back to the house he said, ‘Troy, I saw those two shovels out there by the hole you boys were digging.' And I didn't know what he meant by that for a real long time.” I looked at Gabe, his eyes glassy and calm, and I could tell he was remembering that day when we were so small. Then I took a drink. I had almost forgotten about his father wiping my tears with his calloused hands. “Now, you got a story, Tommy?”

“Not without another beer first.”

“Well, okay then. But now we're all pretty drunk, I'd say.”

“I'd say it, too, if I was smart as you, Stotts.”

Tommy half stumbled back to the keg in the bed of the truck.

“Put some more wood on, Gabey, ‘cause I gotta pee,” I said.