Percival Everett - Half an Inch of Water - Stories

Ride trails, that’s all.

Sam nodded. He might be okay. I can see why you like him. He’s pretty. Being wide is a good thing for your comfort. Well, let’s take a closer look. He’s not exactly wide through the stifles. Sam caught himself. He didn’t want to be too negative. After all, Terry liked the horse.

The winded boy came back with the horse and stood quietly. Sam measured the circumference of the leg just below the knee. Good bone. He grabbed the knee. He’s just a little buck-kneed.

Terry came close and looked with Sam.

Sam looked at Terry. He’s got a beautiful coat. Flies don’t seem to bother him. Sam looked at the horse’s eyes and then at the boy. Just how much bute did you give him?

A little, the boy admitted, caught off guard.

What is it? Terry asked.

Will he lunge? Sam asked.

Yeah, Jake said.

Sam took the lead rope from the boy and got the horse trotting counterclockwise around him. He stopped him and picked up his left forefoot.

What is it? Terry asked.

They gave the horse a drug for pain. He’s got some navicular issues. I mean, Terry, you can live with all the problems I’m finding, I’m sure. Corrective shoes will help his heels, but he won’t be much good for long or strenuous rides. What are they asking for him?

Three grand, Jake said.

Sam smiled. I wouldn’t pay more than eight hundred.

You’re crazy, the kid said. He was red in the face.

I’ve been told that, Sam said. Terry, I can keep checking him, but it won’t get better.

This horse is sound, the kid snapped.

Sam nodded.

I guess I’ll pass, Terry said to Jake.

So that’s it? The boy grunted.

Thanks for showing him to me, Terry said.

Yeah, right. He muttered something to himself as he walked the horse away.

Sam walked with Terry back to her car.

I think he’s pissed, she said.

He was trying to rip you off. Maybe not the kid, but the guy he works for. Healthy horses are expensive enough to take care of.

Thanks, Doc.

Sam felt bad. Terry had had high hopes for the animal, was a little bit in love with him. He watched her fall in behind the wheel of her car, start it, and have a bit of trouble getting turned around.

Sam climbed into his own truck and laughed when he had the same diffcult time getting himself about-faced. He drove home.

Sophie answered the ringing phone as Sam stepped into the kitchen.

We’re fine, she said. What about you? That’s good. Oh, I see. He just walked in. She handed the phone to Sam. It’s the sheriff.

Dale, Sam said.

You okay over there? Any damage? the sheriff asked.

Nothing. What’s up?

I’d like you to come out here and give us a hand. We’ve got a lost little girl next to the reservation. Up in the Creeks.

How long has she been lost?

About six hours. I’m down at the little store at the flashing light. Only place I can get a signal on my damn phone.

Can you get in touch with Eddie over there?

Yes.

Have Eddie get me a horse ready. That way I won’t have to waste time getting one loaded into a trailer.

All right, you got it. I’ve got six men out now, four on horseback, two on foot. Of course the only thing the quake damaged was the helicopter. We’re waiting on one to come from Casper. Duncan’s flying his Beechcraft around.

Where are you exactly?

You’ll see us. Just take the road on through to the far side of the reservation. Just past the dip.

Oh, and Sam.

Yes.

The girl is deaf.

I’m on my way. Be there in less than an hour. He hung up.

Sophie was standing close. What?

Little deaf girl is lost out in the Owl Creeks.

That’s got to be Sadie White Feather’s girl.

Dale didn’t tell me her name.

She’s so tiny.

When Sam came back from the washroom, Sophie handed him a pack.

Water, she said. Some fruit and some cookies. The cookies are for the child.

Yes ma’am. I’m going to grab my chaps from the tack shed. Might have to pop some brush.

He gave her a kiss and stepped outside, called for Zip.

The sheriff had set up a staging area at the head of a little-used trail. It was a hundred square miles of barren, desolate, arid hills, full of worthless ore and seasonal creeks that could flood in a blink. The county/reservation line was somewhere around there, but no one knew for sure and no one cared. Sam and Zip got out of the truck and walked to the sheriff. He was trying to talk with someone on a hand-held radio. Sadie White Feather was sitting on a metal folding chair a few yards away. She did not look up at the sound of Sam’s approach.

Dale, Sam said.

I’m glad you’re here. These damn radios work for shit in these hills. I don’t know where the fuck anybody is.

Sam looked at the hills. Old Dave Wednesday would never set foot in them, called them haunted. Sam had actually liked the place, had ridden there once.

The tribal police put me in charge. Mainly because I’m supposed to have a helicopter. But I don’t. Anyway, the whole tribal force, all three of them, are out there looking.

Okay.

Along with my two deputies and that new ranger, Epps.

What exactly is the situation?

Dale glanced over at Sadie White Feather. He motioned for Sam to follow him away a few paces. Girl’s name is Penny. She went and wandered off away from the family’s camp and just never came back. She was here with her mother, aunt, uncle, and grandmother. Her uncle’s a tribal cop; he’s out looking. The aunt and grandma went to find the father.

Sam nodded. They see anybody else around?

No. Did I mention that the radio reception is crappy in these damn hills? Cell phones are worse.

Any sign yet?

Nothing reported.

Sam stepped over to look at the map the sheriff had spread out on the hood of his rig. It was held down from the wind by rocks. Circles had been drawn and X s were placed in spots.

She’s only nine, Sam. How much ground could she have covered?

A lot, Sam said. And these canyons are just crazy. You could pass by the same wash three times and never know it. Mind if I talk to Sadie?

Be my guest.

Zip had already made it over to the woman and pushed up under her hand. Sadie was absently patting the dog’s head.

Sadie, Sam said.

The woman looked up.

It’s me, Sam Innis. You know my wife, Sophie.

Sadie nodded.

I’m going to go out and help look for Penny. Sam dropped to one knee, faced the direction she faced, and studied the same empty space. But I need to ask you a few questions. You’ve been asked a bunch, I know, but a couple more, okay? They tell me Penny’s nine.

Nine and a half.

Exactly where and when did you last see her?

She was playing over by those yellow mounds. She pointed with an open hand. She was throwing rocks. She glanced over at me and I signed for her to stop throwing rocks, but she pretended not to see and kept on throwing. My sister said to just let her throw rocks, she wasn’t hurting nothing. I started cooking. I was making chokecherry gravy. When I looked back over there, I didn’t see her. I didn’t think anything of it and I went back to cooking. Then I got to thinking about how she can’t hear snakes and so I went over and looked for her. I looked all over and then my sister and her husband started looking and we couldn’t find her. I guess that was about eight thirty, maybe nine.

Is she completely deaf?

Yes.

Can you show me how to sign her name?

You just put one finger to your forehead and move it out. Like this. It’s kind of a joke. We call her “one cent.” You know, a penny is one cent.

Like this? Sam repeated the motion.