Percival Everett - The Body of Martin Aguilera

“I know, Sweetie.” He tried to hold it in his mouth while he pulled the gelding out. The horse tugged back at first, then came easily. He joined the mare.

“Are you okay?” Maggie asked.

“I’m fine. I don’t feel like talking.”

“Come on, Laura,” Maggie said to the child, “let’s go get some dinner started.”

Having been grumpy with Maggie and Laura hurt more than his lip or his fear. He left the saddles in the back of the truck, but took the bridles and hung them on a nail on the back porch. He went into the kitchen.

“I’m sorry, you two. I’m just tired and dirty and smelly and you know a person can’t be responsible for his behavior when he can’t stand his own smell.”

Laura laughed.

“I’m going to get cleaned up.” He looked at the fixings for the meal. “What are we having?”

“Chicken enchiladas,” Maggie said.

Lewis smiled at the woman, but felt she was seeing right through him. “Sounds good,” he said and left the kitchen.

He stood under the spray and made the water as hot as he could stand it. It relaxed the muscles in his neck which had knotted. He dried off and got dressed. He went into the kitchen and picked up the phone.

“Hello, Elaine.”

Laura turned at hearing her mother’s name. Lewis couldn’t look at her, so he turned to face the wall. The child came closer.

“I’m fine,” he said into the receiver. “Laura’s good, she’s fine, but she is why I’m calling. Some business has come up and, well, Laura will be coming home tomorrow.”

He listened to his daughter and glanced at Laura. She was stunned, her hands at her sides. She looked like she wanted to cry, but didn’t remember how.

“No, there’s nothing wrong,” he said.

Maggie looked at the chopped onions.

“I’ll call you later with the time and flight number.”

“Really, there’s nothing the matter. Okay. Bye, honey.” He put the receiver back into its cradle.

Laura ran out of the room.

Lewis shook his head, sat at the table. “Christ.”

“What happened, Lewis?” Maggie asked.

He took a deep breath. “Someone tried to run me off the road. They got behind me and kept bumping the trailer. Scared the horses nearly to death.”

Maggie whistled.

“Tell me about it,” he said.

“What are you going to tell her?”

Lewis looked at the door the girl had run through. “I can’t tell her the truth. She’ll be scared and then her mother will be scared. Hell, Maggie, I don’t even know what’s going on. I don’t think you should be here.”

“I know too much. I’m in this with you.”

He looked at her.

“Try getting rid of me,” she said. “You think there’s trouble out there on the highway?”

“Thanks, Mag.” He thought about his granddaughter again. “I think it’s better for her to be pissed at me than scared. What do you think?”

“Sounds reasonable.”

“This stuff hurts.” He knew what he had to do. He had to go into the child’s room and tell her she had to leave because she was in the way. He couldn’t let her consider the business with Martin. He had to leave that out all together. “Here goes.”

He found Laura sitting on her bed, looking out the window. She had remembered how to cry. He sat beside her, took her hand.

“Laura, I’m an old man. A lonely old man. I love you very much and we’ll have plenty of time to spend together. But right now, I need time with Maggie, you know, so we can get things started.”

Laura looked at him with puffy eyes and he wasn’t sure she understood.

“I love you,” he said.

“You don’t want me here.”

“That’s not it, honey. It’s just that now’s not a good time. Later in the summer, that’ll be a good time. What do you say?”

She turned again to face the window.

“I’m really sorry, Sweetie.”

“I’m in the way.”

He looked out the window, too. “Yes, sweetie, that’s kind of it. Right now, just right now, you’re in the way.”

Laura curled up on the bed. Lewis put his hand on her back and felt her convulse. He picked her up and centered her on the bed, then stretched out beside her, his arm around her. This would be a long night.

Laura was lying under the covers in bed. Lewis switched on her bedside lamp and turned off the overhead light.

“There, that’s cozier,” he said. “Mind if I sit down here?”

Laura shook her head.

He sat on the edge of the bed and put his hand on her knee. “You’re pretty upset, eh?”

She nodded.

“I’m sorry.” He looked at her things by her little suitcase. “Sometimes grown-ups have to be alone to get certain things taken care of. Seems the older you get, the more alone you need to be and the harder it is to adjust to things.”

She just looked at him.

“Evolution hasn’t done us any favors is what I’m trying to say.”

“I wish you had talked to me about it first,” Laura said.

Lewis blew out a sigh. Quite a reasonable request, he thought. He felt guilty. “You’re right, honey. I handled that badly. I should have talked to you first. I’m sorry.”

The child’s eyes stayed on his.

“You know how much I love you, don’t you? I wouldn’t do anything in the world to hurt you.”

“I know, Papa.”

He pulled her forward and hugged her. “What do you say I tell you a story?”

“A horse story.”

“A horse story.” Lewis thought, looking out the window. “Okay, here goes. Once in a land far away, there lived a very special horse, a beautiful black mare with white stockings. Only three people had ever actually seen the horse and they had long died. Legend had it that the horse never aged and would always stay strong. They called the horse Phyllis.”

“Phyllis?”

“I can’t help it, that’s what they called her. One day, a very warm day, a little girl named Tilly went walking through the woods. She went farther than she had ever gone before and farther than she was supposed to. And you know what else?”

“She didn’t tell anybody where she was going.”

“That’s right. Have I told you this story?”

“No.”

“Well, Tilly, of course, got hopelessly lost. She sat on a stump and started to cry. She was a loud crier and her sobs filled the forest. Birds and squirrels came to see what could make such a noise.” Lewis looked at his granddaughter’s eyes, weak from crying themselves. “The animals huddled together and tried to come up with a plan. ‘We’re too small to carry her,’ the squirrels said. ‘She’s too heavy for us,’ said the birds. They decided that the bear would scare her and that if they got the lion, he would eat her.” Laura was drifting off. ‘“What about Phyllis?’a chipmunk asked. They all agreed. Phyllis came and the girl climbed on. They walked for a very long way, through rain and bad winds.” Laura was asleep. Lewis stood, still talking, and switched off the light. As he closed the door, he whispered to himself, “But they never found their way home. Together they were hopelessly lost.”

He walked into the kitchen and caught Maggie eating a cookie. He said, “And of course they starved to death.”

“There’re more cookies,” Maggie said.

Lewis didn’t get much sleep. He spent most of the night out of the bed, sitting in the chair by the window. He watched the horses standing, finally at ease. His head hurt. His muscles ached. He was dead tired, but he couldn’t sleep. Maggie watched him much of the time from the bed. She asked him once to come to bed, but he didn’t answer.

Maggie came up behind Lewis in the chair and rubbed his neck. “I love you, Lewis.”