Percival Everett - Wounded

That night Gus called and told me what time his bus would be arriving the next day. He sounded low and I asked him how the tests went and he said he didn’t know, only that they were uncomfortable and he was tired.

“How is he?” Morgan asked. She was sitting on the sofa in the study, reading.

“Tired.”

“Thanks again for the flowers,” she said.

“Pretty gal like you needs pretty things around her,” I said in my best cowboy voice.

“You’re the one who’s tired,” she said. “I’ll pick up Gus tomorrow. You catch up around here. That will make three days into town in a row.”

I couldn’t argue with that. “Thanks, honey.”

I fell onto the sofa next to her. “You know, I never called anybody else sweetie and honey before.”

“Really?”

“Really.”

“Where’s our guest?”

“I think the young man has retired for the evening,” I said. “It was a rough day for him. He was nervous the whole time he was on horseback.”

“At least he’s a sport,” Morgan said.

“He’s a good kid.”

“He’s not a kid. He’s twenty years old.”

“He’s not a kid to you because you’re a spring chicken,” I said. “He’s a kid to me because I’m old as dirt.”

The phone rang and I walked across the room to the desk to answer it. It was Daniel White Buffalo.

“Another cow dead?” I asked.

“No, but Clara Monday thinks somebody took a shot at her,” he said.

“Say again?”

“She was over in the Owl Creeks, just riding along, and she says somebody put a bullet into the slope behind her.”

“Did she see anyone?” I asked.

“I don’t think so.” Daniel took a breath and listened to my silence. “I just thought you should know.”

“Thanks, Daniel.” I hung up.

“What is it?” Morgan asked, closing her book and leaning forward, seeing the expression on my face.

“It seems somebody fired a shot at Clara Monday.”

“Oh, my god,” she said.

“Daniel said he thought I should know.”

Morgan walked over and put her arms around me.

“Don’t worry,” I said. I knew, however, that she could feel my uneasiness. I stroked her hair.

In my dream, I was dragging a reluctant donkey around a large pen. I was afraid she was going to colic and I didn’t want her to roll. The vet had called and told me he would be right there, but that was hours ago. It was a hot day, sweltering, and I was drenched. The donkey would willingly walk a few steps with me then fall back on her heels, leaving me to drag her and her quarter-ton pendulous belly forward. Then she would stop and try to cough up something and I began to think it was choke and not colic. Susie came out to the corral and told me that the vet had called and that he was on his way and that he was all worried that the donkey was going to die and so she was all worried that the donkey was going to die and I said, “Well, she isn’t dying yet, so let’s wait and worry when we know enough to worry about.” This made her mad and she walked away into the house. I wanted to go after her, to tell her that my saying that was probably just a clumsy way of my expressing worry, but I couldn’t leave the donkey. Every time I tried to walk away from the donkey, she moved as if to lie on her side, so I would start tugging again. The vet showed up and Susie joined him as he walked toward the donkey and me. Just as they reached the gate, the donkey hacked up a black piece of plastic. The vet sighed relief and said, “So, it was choke.” He turned to Susie and said, “I’m sorry I got you all worked up.”

I said to the vet, “We were both pretty nervous, all right.”

“Well, I’ll take a look,” the vet said. “We’ll put a tube down her and pump in some oil to be sure everything’s going where it ought to be going.”

Susie had turned away and was marching to the house.

I followed her inside, but couldn’t find her anywhere. I looked in all the rooms and then in the barn. The vet was riding the donkey around in the pen. I looked out across the field and saw footprints in the snow, even though it was hot, but I didn’t follow them. I just went back into the house and tried to start a fire, but every match I lit went out and I became more and more frustrated. Finally, my hands were trembling and the matches wouldn’t even spark.

“John.” Morgan woke me. Her voice broke through and when I opened my eyes I saw the hint of sunrise through the window.

“Yes?”

“You were having a bad dream.” She used her thumb to stroke the furrow of my brow.

I put my arm around her and pulled her close. Her skin was bare and warm. “Was I kicking and screaming like a dang fool?”

“No, just muttering.”

“Sorry about that,” I said. “What time is it?”

“Five-forty-five. We’re burning daylight.”

“I might as well get up then.”

She pushed me back down. “Oh, yeah?”

“Why, do you have something else in mind?”

“Maybe,” she said.

“I get it,” I said. “You want us to sleep for another half-hour. I can do that.” And I turned over.

Morgan poked me in the side and made me jump. “You’d better show me some cowboy lovin’ or you’re in for it.”

“Oh, all right, if I have to.”

I fed the horses and groomed those whose turn it was. Then I worked Felony in the round pen for a while. He had really come along and it was about time to let him go home to Duncan Camp. He’d begun a fairly steady ride and his big body let him cover ground in a hurry, even if it did make him a little clumsy on steep terrain. I cantered around a few more times, then stopped in the center of the ring and looked up at the sky. The sun was out and the only clouds were well away over the mountains. The day promised to be mild, but those clouds were going to make things bad, I just knew it in my gut. I’d asked Morgan if she wanted to saddle Square and take a ride into the high country with me, but she said she was going to make bread. She suggested I take David up there. He and Gus were sleeping late. I figured that they deserved it on New Year’s Eve. I left Felony saddled and tied at the post outside the kitchen.

Morgan was measuring flour into a bowl next to the sink. David was at the table, dressed and finishing a bowl of cereal.

“How about a ride in the hills?” I asked. I could see that he was apprehensive. “Nothing fancy. You’ll be used to this in no time. It’s not necessary to ride a horse to work on a ranch, but it’s the fun part. Unless that leg’s going to give you trouble.”

“No, it’ll be all right.”

“We don’t have to go out,” I said.

“No, really, I want to,” he said. “I’ll just run and brush my teeth.” He left the room.

“I didn’t push him, did I?” I looked to Morgan.

She shook her head. “No. But it’s kind of cute.”

“What is?”

“That kid really wants to please you.” She cracked an egg into the bowl. “He looks up to you.”

“He doesn’t even know me,” I said.

“Well, that would explain it,” Morgan said.

“Very funny.” I poured myself half a cup of coffee. “You feed the puppy yet?”

“Yep. She’s really growing. She’s got a nice temperament.”

“And what are you making?”

“Cookies,” she said. “I woke up and felt like making cookies. I’m praying that David loves cookies because I don’t want to eat them all myself.”

“Is Gus still in bed?”

Morgan nodded.

I looked at the clock. It was almost eight-thirty. “I think I’ll check on him. You think I should?”

“Please,” Morgan said.

I walked up the stairs and tapped on Gus’s door. “Hey, Gus.”

“Yeah?” he answered.