Percival Everett - The Body of Martin Aguilera

He considered the next day. He would put a horse in a trailer, drive it to Garapata Ridge and follow the trail down to Plata Creek and into the back end of the canyon. He recalled the absence of animals in the canyon and a chill traveled over him. Suddenly, he was afraid of going alone. He couldn’t and wouldn’t ask Maggie. Besides, someone had to stay with Laura. Then he remembered Peabody. Maybe the vet would go and he was a perfect choice, a scientist, a man who knew animals. He looked at his watch. It was only ten-twenty. He was glad. Maggie could stop worrying. He would call Cyril when he got home.

He could still hear the chanting of the rezador .

Lewis managed to get dressed and out of the house without waking Maggie or Laura. Only some of the light of the day to come helped him as he took the battery from his car and put it into his truck. He backed the truck to the horse trailer. It was a two-horse, front-unloading trailer that he had bought after watching a man get stepped on trying to back a horse out of a tight place. He closed the horses off in the corral and went to get the tack from the shed. The saddles were in good shape. He grabbed a couple of curb bits; the horses hadn’t been ridden much lately and he’d need leverage on some of the slopes. Cyril Peabody had said he’d take the morning and ride with him. Lewis breathed easier knowing he wasn’t going alone. He went to the corral and saddled the mare without much trouble. The gelding was a little stubborn. The horse blew up his belly when Lewis went to tighten the front cinch. He didn’t want the cinches tight now, but he knew he’d have to poke the horse in the ribs when he cinched him. He loaded the animals into the trailer and left.

Lewis had gone through the business with the horses without realizing how tired he was. He found during the drive down the mountain that his eyes wanted to close. He rubbed his eyes and the back of his neck, shook his head. Finally he just stopped and napped for about five minutes. When he awoke, he found that just those few minutes had allowed morning to come on fully. He enjoyed the rest of the drive to Cyril’s office on the outer-bounds of town. He stopped once to check the horses.

Cyril was sitting in his Jeep in front of his office. He waved when he saw Lewis and got out. He carried a bag. He climbed into Lewis’ truck.

“I brought us some food,” Cyril said.

“I forgot all about food. Thanks.”

“I guessed you were inviting me for a reason.”

Lewis pulled back onto the highway. “Thanks for coming out with me.”

“No sweat. Want to fill me in?”

“Like I told you, we’re going to drive up to Garapata Ridge and take the trail down to Plata Creek and into the canyon.” He looked at Cyril and saw he was waiting for more. “A lot has happened and I just don’t feel like going into detail.” He took a deep breath. “I saw Martin Aguilera’s body last night.”

“Where?”

“I can’t say.”

“I heard it was stolen. How’d you see it?”

“Really, I can’t talk about that. I saw him and that’s what matters. Cyril, he had wounds on his legs like the squirrel had.”

Cyril just looked at him.

“Burns, well, like burns. I think they were the same. I have a really bad feeling.”

“That’s why we’re headed out to the canyon.”

Lewis nodded. “Something’s going on. Remember when I told you there were no animals up there.”

“Yeah, that sounds pretty weird, all right.”

Lewis watched the road. The men were silent for a while. Lewis turned the car off the highway onto a dirt road which got progressively rougher as they went. The truck hit big holes and Lewis looked into the mirror to see how the trailer was taking the hazards.

“Some road,” Cyril said.

Lewis groaned. He winced as a rock bounced them high. “I hope the horses don’t get spooked too badly. This road is always worse than the last time. What’s it take to run a grader over it now and then?”

“Look at it this way, keeps the tourists away.”

“Yeah.” Lewis stopped the car even though the road continued. “We’ll ride from here. It’ll be just as fast and easier on the horses.”

They unloaded the animals. Lewis took the gelding because he was more prone to crankiness. When he went to tighten the cinch, the horse did like he had suspected and blew out his middle. Lewis hit him in the ribs with his elbow and pulled the strap hard. They mounted and rode southwest.

A mile across the flat went quickly and they were headed down toward the creek. Lewis loved the land. The high dessert was every color he had ever found beautiful, every shape that had ever interested him.

On the first steep section of the trail the gelding tried to hold up, but Lewis fought with him and made him go on. Lewis could feel the short fight in his arm muscles. He felt his age.

“They don’t like downhill,” Cyril said.

“They’re fat and lazy. This is good for them.”

“Any idea what we’re looking for?” Cyril asked, following.

Lewis looked back. “No. Anything.”

The trail began a series of switchbacks. The gelding surprised Lewis and performed well. He was glad because he was unsure if he had the energy for a lot of fighting. They stopped at the creek, dismounted, and ate the sandwiches Cyril had packed.

“Good,” Lewis said and took a swig from his canteen. “How’s your daughter doing?”

Cyril looked at him. “Fine. The question is how am I doing. Paying for this stuff is something else.”

Lewis nodded.

“Brown’s a good school though.”

Lewis scratched his chin. “I thought she was at Bennington.”

“What am I saying? She’s at Bennington. B’s, you know.”

“Yeah. What’s her name?”

“Donna.” He ran a hand over his hair. “Tell me about those burns you saw on Martin’s body.”

“Not much to tell. I’m not even sure they were burns.”

“Where’d you see him?”

“I promised I wouldn’t say,” Lewis said.

“Clandestine stuff, huh?”

“I guess.”

“It is strange though. Bizarre wounds, missing animals.” Cyril half-laughed.

They sat and rested for a few minutes more. Lewis studied the sky. There were no clouds. He watched Cyril push the trash into the bag.

“What about your wife?”

“Divorced,” Cyril said. “She’s remarried and lives in Ohio.”

“Let’s ride, partner,” Lewis said.

They mounted and continued along the creek, Lewis leading. After another mile, Lewis turned to find Cyril off the mare.

“Problem?” Lewis asked.

“I think she picked up a stone.”

Lewis stayed in the saddle and watched. Cyril lifted the horse’s right front hoof and studied it.

“Yep,” Cyril said. He took a knife from his pocket and unfolded it. “Won’t take a second.” He put the blade to the hoof. “Hmmm.”

“What is it?” Lewis asked.

Cyril let the leg down, took the reins and led the mare forward a couple of steps. She favored the foot.

Lewis climbed down.

“The rock cut her frog,” Cyril said.

“Is it bad?”

“Not serious, but she shouldn’t go on. The farther we go, the farther she’ll have to walk back.”

“What a time for something like this. It’s never happened before.” Lewis kicked a stone and it landed in the creek.

“You can go on. I’ll walk her back and wait at the truck.”

Lewis looked ahead at the trail. “No, we should stay together.” He smiled at Cyril. “Besides, it’s a long walk back. You’ll need company.”

“Sorry.”

“It’s not your fault.” Lewis stroked the mare’s neck. “It’s okay, baby,” he said to the horse. He picked up the leg and saw the blood. It seemed odd that a round stone could make such a wound.