Chapter 32. Bag of Blue Horses
“Only difference between playing an A note on the 5th fret of the 6th string and playing it open on the 5th is whatever suits you best. So pick your method and go with it.”
– Jotted in the Tab Book of Geroge Evans
Tapping her feet repeatedly on the floorboard, Cris turned up the air conditioning as she and Kody sat in her car, the quiet reflective melodies of “Lyrical Lies” echoing in the background. She tried to keep her tongue from tasting the dried blood on her lip, having bitten it twice in the last several minutes.
“I missed you,” she started.
“Missed you too,” he replied.
She looked down at her Sketchers, her feet now shaking back and forth. Her combative shoelaces provided little relief and even less distraction from the angry butterflies fluttering madly in her belly. The dragging silence burned worse than any of the million questions tussling in her head. After a short while, she spoke up.
“Why didn’t you call me?”
“I dunno…I think I just needed time to settle things with Alma. So you and I could have a real chance with a clean start, ya’ know?”
She offered a blank stare. “No. That sounds kind of crazy. And appreciate that I’ve been with Geroge and Glenn for the better part of the past few days.” She gave Kody the look. “But that’s not what matters. After all this nonsense, I finally found you, and you found Alma. So what matters to me is this: what happens now?”
She watched as Kody stared out the window, the two of them listening to Cutie is What We Aim For transition into Damien Rice’s wistful “The Blower’s Daughter.” Cris reached out, placing a hand on his shoulder, but received no response. She retracted her arm, lowering her head. Listening to the slow ballad a moment longer, she turned away, opening her door and stepping out into the heat.
She walked back toward the inn, taking a seat on the steps outside. She laid her head on her knees as a dusty breeze blew by, tossing mahogany locks about. Footsteps approached from behind as Geroge plopped himself down next to her. “Trouble in paradise?” he asked. She nodded, not bothering to lift her head up.
“Ah, finally somethin’ I know a thing about! So check it out, back home I got this lawyer I work with. Now he doesn’t know much about the law—”
“So you mean he’s a regular guy?” Cris asked.
“Huh.” Geroge paused for a moment, chuckling. “Yeah, I guess so. Anyway, we got to talkin’ about copyrights over a not-love song, and the guy tells me, ‘Love is like a bag of blue horses—it can be used for a hundred different things, but no one knows what the hell it’s actually for.’”
Cris looked up at him, unable to restrain a self-defeating grin as her eyebrow cocked.
“Yeah, I know right? I still think he’s kinda wacked, but he might not be all wrong. If there’s a point there, I think it’s that ya’ do what ya’ want with what ya’ got. Don’t matter what it looks like or how it shapes up.” Geroge patted her on the back.
“Ever wonder if your head just takes up space?”
Cris looked up to see Alma standing behind Geroge, knocking on his fuzzy brain carrier. Cris watched as Geroge leaned back, looking up to see Alma and apparently enjoying the view.
“Good to see you too, Alms’ter.”
“My charming brother and the cat whisperer are apparently having what passes for a think tank session in there. Figured with all your drugstore philosophy you wouldn’t wanna miss out.”
Alma tapped him out, waiting for Geroge to excuse himself before taking her place next to Cris. She leaned forward, resting her head on her knees, looking Cris directly in the eyes.
“’Sup bitch?”
Cris rolled her eyes. “Right back at you,” she paused before continuing, “What’d you do to my boyfriend?”
Alma reeled, falling back onto the steps of the inn trying to control an explosive fit of laughter. Eventually calming down, she took a moment to recompose herself.
“No, no, no, slut action Barbie. The last thing in this glorious dust hole of a world I’m going to do is waste any more time fighting with you over Kody Lehane.”
Alma clutched the beaded hemp necklace around her neck, pulling at it until the string gave way. The necklace snapped, loosing some beads onto the ground. Alma gathered them up along with the ones still on the string.
“See this?” Alma showed her the beads. “All yours.” She rubbed them in Cris’s hair. “I spent so long holding a grudge against you, and you know what it did for me?” Alma pointed to faint circles under her eyes. “This. That’s it. You screwed me over, and somehow I got the shit-end of the stick. So I don’t really care about all that anymore. It’s really not worth it.” Alma paused as she got up to leave. Cris watched as she waited for the words Alma seemed to be contemplating. “But there’s one thing that is.”
Cris looked up, beads falling out of her hair as she tried to conceal her sullen expression.
“Glenn’s in there. Kody told me you guys left him for dead, so imagine my surprise when he comes walkin’ in with my brother saying you’re the reason he’s alive. Apparently, karma has Dmetri Martin as one of its writers. Anyway, I’m tired of all this. With everything else, and the fact that you didn’t narc on me for taking your car, I’d say we’re as close as we’re gonna get to being square. So let’s call this what it is: you’re an evil. prudish bitch, I’m a better not-so-prudish bitch.”
A half-smirk crossed Cris’s face. “We’ve been over this: I’m not a prude.” Alma frowned, pushing Cris over.
“Please, you’re as prissy as they come. I’d take you on right now if I thought you could go half a round with me. But you’re all bones these days. Pretty sure one of those wavy car lot balloon guys could take you right now.” Alma sighed, rubbing her forehead. “Whatever. Go screw Lehane already. God knows that kid needs to get laid.” Alma hesitated before adding, “And I’m sure he misses you.”
Alma headed back into the ego-stroking convention taking place in the lobby. Cris stood up, brushing herself off. She started back toward her car, taking several deep breaths. She clenched her fist repeatedly. Getting halfway around the inn, she saw a horse rapidly approaching with two riders. Unfamiliar with rural life, she watched in wonderment as they approached.
As they finally arrived, she observed a rugged-looking cowboy accompanied by a tough young woman. The man tied the horse down as he helped the woman off, and the two made their way into the inn. Hearing them interact with her friends, curiosity got the better of her as she changed course and headed back inside.
“This is Cris. She’s the woman Kody’s so very much obsessed with,” Alma introduced Cris. “These two are Lorena, my cousin, and Arturo, a well-mannered bandito leader who probably gets into more fights than Ryan Atwood.”
“Oh my God…is that Mickeyman?” Lorena exclaimed, noticing Cris’s mousey tank top.
“What? No.” Cris backed up.
“Nah? Never actually seen ‘im, figured maybe it was. Well, lemme show ya’ around. Arturo?”
“I’ll talk to them.” He nodded.
Lorena took Cris by the hand and led her back to the room she was staying in. Lorena closed the door behind them, offering Cris a seat on the bed. Cris watched as Lorena sat in a nearby chair, tending to her ankle.
“So you’re Kody’s girl, huh?”
Cris offered an insincere smile. “We’ve met before—when you came to visit Alma forever ago. But since it has been that long—it’s good to meet you. What happened to your ankle?”
“Bandito crushed it.” Lorena seemed lost in thought as she lifted her ankle. “This is one a’ the nicer things they’ve done.”
“Why’re things so bad out here? How haven’t the police stopped them?” Cris asked.
Lorena stared at Cris for a good moment, setting her ankle down and finishing off a glass of water.
“I guess life’s different here than where yer from. Even if we had some kinda real police, I don’t think
most a’ ‘em would be volunteerin’ ta’ get shot up ta’ make a point.”
“Maybe you just haven’t gone about it the right way.”
Lorena canted her head, her eyes slowly drifting to the side as she considered Cris’s words. She lifted her head and continued. “Maybe,” she paused, “But we got an idea ta’ fix it.”
“What?” Cris sat up.
“Arturo and I got a plan. But that’s fer tomorrow, and it’s nothin’ ya need ta’ worry about. Reason I asked ya’ in here,” Lorena lowered her voice as she leaned close, “Was fer you and Kody. I won’t be needin’ a bed that big any time soon, so I figure someone should get some use outta it.” Lorena sat back again, her voice returning to normal volume. “Gonna head back out there. Arturo and I got some more plannin’ ta’ do before we get everyone on board. If I see Kody, I’ll send ‘im your way.”
Lorena headed back into the lobby. Cris lay back on the bed, clasping her hands in front of her eyes. She lifted them up, dropping them on her face, only to lift them up and repeat the process. She exhaled, continuing this cycle for some time. Taking slower and deeper breaths, her eyelids became heavy, stealing consciousness away from her.