The Mare

Velvet

My next time back I wanted to tell Ginger I threw her doll away. But it was too mean and anyway she didn’t know about the doll. So I told her I could see the bald spot on her head.

“Thanks a lot,” she said, “but I knew about that already. Do you know you got a big-ass head?”

I asked her if she’d been out drinking again. She whipped around and said, “Don’t ever mention that again. Mention that again, our relationship is over.”

“I’m going to the horses.”

“Honey, I’m sorry.”

Before I got to the barn, I saw Beverly in the round pen with Joker and she was using her bullwhip. She was excited. I could feel how excited she was. I could feel how scared he was. She was scared too, and that made her more excited. She yelled at him and made him run, but then she changed the whip from behind to in front and he turned and ran and she hit from behind again. He didn’t know where to go. He stood up in front of her and I thought he would stomp her. But he didn’t. She used the whip and that’s when he screamed.

I wanted to kill her. I wanted to take the whip away from her and use it on her. I wanted it so bad I couldn’t see.

I went in the barn. Gare was standing there so quiet I didn’t see at first that she was watching Beverly and she was crying. I felt even more mad to see that. I went to the office. Pat was in her plastic chair eating old takeout with the cats stretched up on her front. I said, “Why is Beverly doing that?”

She sat up; the cats hung there looking pissed. “First, get the attitude out of your face.”

“Why is she hurting him? She’s always hurting him. Why?”

“She’s not seriously hurting him. What she’s doing is psychological. She’s—”

“So she’s hurting him inside.”

“She’s psychologically disciplining him, she—”

“He’s screaming, Pat.”

“Listen, it’s not my way. I wouldn’t do it. But I don’t run this place and—”

I walked out of the office. Gare was still standing there. Nobody else was. “Come here,” I said to her. “Help me.”

“Help you do what?”

“Come here, I’ll show you. Get a bridle.”

She followed me. I went to the other side of the barn, to Fiery Girl’s stall. The mare came forward as we came. I took her halter down. “I’m gonna bring her out right here. I’m gonna get the bridle on her while you hold her.”

Gare stared at me. “You’re fucking crazy,” she said.

“She won’t hurt me. We don’t have time to get her on the cross-ties.”

Like she knew what I was planning, Fiery Girl shook her head, stepping fast and light from one foot to the other.

“What’re you gonna do?”

“Help me get the bridle on. Help me get on her.”

Gare’s face lit up. She went to get the bridle. I opened the stall door enough to get in. The mare put back one of her ears, stretching her head toward me like she wanted to lip me. I lightly pushed her face back and touched her neck to get her to take the halter. She put her head down. I opened the door and led her out, her step high and springy. Gare came back, strong now. The mare’s back was trembling under her silky skin, but she let us get the bridle on. Then it was scary: Gare couldn’t hold her and help me get on her. I had to make her be still with just my hand on her. I said, “Whoa. Be with me. Whoa. I’ve been with you. Be with me.” Gare’s eyes flashed. She let go the horse and stood with her hands locked for me to step on and get a leg up.

I took the reins and went from Gare’s hands up onto the bare excited back; the mare took off at a strong walk. Gare gave a holler, Pat came out the office and yelled, “Shit! Whoa!” She went for the reins, but I tapped with both heels, then barely had time to duck my head before we were out the barn door at a trot past the round pen.

And then it all happened: Beverly saw me and spun so she damn near hit herself with her own whip — just before Joker reared up on her from the back and she fell down. Then Fiery Girl took off almost out from under me, running down the trail toward the water. I grabbed her mane with both hands, but I could barely stay on. Was Beverly dead? The mare went off the path into the neighbor farm’s orchard. The trees came at me with black claw-arms and rushed away, green leaves and rotting fruit. I ducked; she took me through. I yelled, Whoa! but she didn’t even slow. Everything was flying past and I would go to jail, my mom talking forever about what shit I was. I pulled the reins, feeling for her mouth, but it was no good; I was already slipping when I saw the fence coming. I screamed, “Whoa!” and pulled the reins hard, she came up on her back legs, and I saw nothing but sky that went forever until I slammed down on my back so hard my head bounced. The sky blurred and black came in on the edges. I pushed it back and made myself sit up. My horse was trotting slowly alongside the fence. I felt vomit coming. Ginger’s voice said, Our relationship is over. I called to my horse; she ignored me. My eyes blurred; my horse blurred and then she was gone. Dominic was there, his arm around Brianna. We were outside the school. He was walking with her and at first I thought he didn’t even see me because he had turned his back to me, both their backs were to me. But then he turned his head back around and looked at me that same way he looked a long time ago, when he was with Sondra, joking and serious. But it was horrible now. Because he had touched my breasts and my lips and his eyes mentioned that while he turned away to be with someone who hated me. Alicia saw. Other people saw. I was all of a sudden a tiny hurting center of something huge that had nothing to do with me.

I felt dizzy. Grass and trees stretched away. Now I was not at the center of anything. I wasn’t anything. Grass and trees stretched away from me, not touching me. The mare ate grass, ignoring me. Far away was a road with cars and people that had nothing to do with me. The sky was like the ocean, full of things I couldn’t see. Birds flew, hunting for invisible things to kill. People said this was beautiful, but it was not. It would kill you if you were alone in it and I was alone. I was alone everywhere. There was nothing to stand on, nothing to hold. My mother wouldn’t even hit me because I wasn’t worth it. I bent over and vomited.

The next time I saw Shawn, I went with him and I did what he told me. I wanted Dominic to hear and be mad. When I finished, I don’t even know why, but I said, “So you love me?” He said, “Sure, you cool.” The next time I saw Dominic he was with another girl, a friend of Brianna’s named Janelle. He didn’t even look at me.

Any man could have her and who would want to?

Beverly would say it about me if she knew. It wasn’t true. But she would say it. Maybe even Pat would. Why? Why did they talk like that about somebody? I bent over again, but instead of vomit, pain came with a sound that was horrible to me. I fell onto my knees and the sound became words. I hit myself and said them: Ugly stupid chicken-head bitch. Worthless, stupid. Nobody wants you. Even the horse doesn’t want you. You’re worse than shit. Even the horse knows. You’re not worth it.

I wiped my mouth with my shirt. The black closed in and then parted; the grass was so green beneath me. I felt her breath on me. Then her nose against my shoulder. The grass was so green. I lifted my face and she lipped my hair. I almost laughed because she had come back, but then I saw she was scared. She was scared, but she still came back to see if I was okay. I could not make her more scared.

The blackness cleared. I stood up and touched her shoulder with both my hands. She shied away. I made my voice softer and I talked to her like she was a kitten. I said I was sorry I said those things, that I wasn’t talking to her. I said I would never say those things again. I tried to kiss her and to hug her. She shied away again. I tried again, and she moved away again, stronger this time, like I was scaring her. I didn’t understand and it hurt me. I needed to feel her, but I couldn’t make her more scared. Her skin was shining, and her head was up, nervous, even though her eyes were trusting me. I put my head down and moved close enough to put my hand on her shoulder. She stayed. I felt her muscles, her blood. I felt her. I remembered suddenly how it was when I walked to the barn with Ginger that first time, how all the green was too much, too open, and I knew: She didn’t feel safe enough to hug in the open. Like she knew I understood, she put her head down and began to eat the grass. I petted her neck and then picked up the reins. I let her eat for a few minutes — it made me feel calm to watch her eat, looking a little piggy with her snout. Then when I was ready I said, “Come on” and pulled her head up. I led her to the fence like it was a mounting block. I climbed up on it. She shied away at first, but I talked her back. She saw what I was doing; she let me. I sat on her and swung my hair behind me. The sky was huge and bright, but it was touching me now, it was friendly, and the huge brightness of the grass stretched before me. I started her at a walk. This was my place. No one would ever be in this place but me and my horse. No man, not even children; they would never come here with me. This place was only for me and my mare.

We were going at a trot when we saw Pat on Graylie and Beverly on Diamond Chip. I slowed to a walk. They stopped and they stood there waiting, Pat with her face like she just saw God, Beverly like somebody’d stuck a rake in her face.

“Get off that goddamned horse,” Beverly said, “before you do any more damage.”

I got off. Pat got off Graylie. She was trying to make her face mad, but I could see she was really something else and she was barely holding it back. She said, “Do you realize how lucky you are that you didn’t get hurt?”

Beverly said, “Do you realize how lucky I am that I didn’t get killed? He came up on me and hit the back of my knees. He could’ve kicked my skull in.”

“Both of you could’ve been killed,” said Pat.

“I’m sorry, Miss Beverly,” I said. “I’m sorry, Miss Pat. But Fiery Girl wouldn’t kill me. She loves me.”

“Don’t be a fool!” Pat said. “She’s an animal!”

“I know. But she loves me.” Then I fainted.