Ghost Medicine

  “I’m sorry, boy. Go ahead and finish up.”

  I could feel him looking at me, spilling his big black shadow on me. I re-aimed the rifle, but I missed again.

  Rutledge cleared his throat. I could hear the sound of his pencil scraping the page where he tallied the misses. Two minutes. I was so mad at myself I could have howled. Clayton didn’t say anything then. I took the next three targets one after the other.

  “Now don’t forget to reload,” he said.

  My hands were shaking, he could see that. I had to somehow try to make up two minutes on the rest of the riders in that last mile, figuring there’d be at least a few who’d get all fifteen. I quickly reloaded the rifle, felt like throwing it, but handed it over to the deputy.

  “I didn’t think a kid your size would take fifteen of fifteen, but you did dang good, boy.”

  I didn’t say anything. I leapt up onto Reno and dug my heels in and we were off toward the finish at a full gallop.

  That last mile came down by the bridge and the flats. I kept my head low alongside Reno’s pumping neck, holding the reins loose and letting him run as fast as he could, just hoping I wouldn’t slip and fall. We caught and passed number five and I even saw four cross the finish line by Papa’s store about thirty seconds in front of me, so missed shots or not, I knew we’d post a fast time. I just never should have missed those shots, the easiest ones in the race.

  And I saw them all there, cheering as I came to the finish line: Tommy, Luz, Gabriel, and his parents, but I wouldn’t look at them as I crossed because I felt so bad I think I would have started to cry.

  There was a makeshift livery for the horses behind Papa’s and I went straight there with Reno. I took off his bridle and saddle and threw it over the top rail of the corral piping. I started brushing him down.

  “You did real good, Reno. I’m sorry I messed up.”

  Tommy and Gabe squeezed through the rails of the corral. They looked overjoyed.

  “You were awesome!” Gabe said. “I missed two.”

  “You?” Tommy couldn’t believe it, either. “You missed two? Did you see your time?”

  “I’m sick about it, Tom. It was at that Deputy Rutledge’s station. He was trying to make me miss.”

  “Even with two penalty minutes, you’re still in first place by a long shot,” Gabe said.

  I looked at my two friends. “I am?”

  “I have a good feeling about this,” Tom said.

  “It’s ‘cause of Reno, that’s all,” I said. “But there’s a lot of riders still coming around.”

  Then I saw Luz resting her arms on the rails of the corral, watching us. She smiled at me, and I shook my head and looked down. I walked over to where my saddle was sitting and untied the bandana and wiped off my face and neck with it, then I tied it back around the saddle horn.

  “I didn’t do good, Luz.”

  “What do you mean? You’re in first place right now.”

  “Yeah. But I could’ve put it away. I missed two easy shots.”

  “You did good enough,” she said. “I’m so proud of you. Are you hungry?”

  They were starting the barbecue out on the street now.

  “Yes.” But I wasn’t.

  We all sat together in the shade by the side of Papa’s, away from the gas pumps. I kept that number seven pinned to my chest the whole day. While we ate and talked, me keeping an eye on the riders coming in behind me, George Hess, who owned the store, poured beer after beer from a row of gleaming steel kegs in washtubs of ice lining the street in front of Papa’s.

  When the last of the riders had come in, my finishing time was only good enough for second place, beaten by fifteen seconds. What made it even worse was that it was Chase Rutledge who had come in first to claim the thousand-dollar prize. I got five hundred for second. I guess there was lots of money bet and lost because that Texan who had won the biathlon for three straight years came in tenth overall.

  I was disappointed I had let all those people who bet on me down, but when Tommy showed me the fistful of cash he had won for betting me three ways, I felt a little better.

  “It would’ve been a lot more if you won, though, but you’ll get ‘em back next year.”

  “Next year I want you to be riding that big boy, too.”

  “First and second, Stotts.”

  “We could do that.”

  I found my dad, laughing and drinking a beer with Mr. Benavidez. I asked him to hold on to all that cash for me since Tommy, Gabe, and I would be leaving for the fire pit before evening.

  “You had an excellent ride, Troy,” Mr. Benavidez said, and shook my hand.

  “Thank you. I could’ve done better, though.” I cleared my throat and continued, “Me and Tom are going on a campout to -night, so we’ll be back in at the ranch Monday morning if that’s okay, sir. My dad said it was.”

  “That’s fine, Troy. Have a good time.”

  I didn’t say anything about Gabe because I wasn’t really sure if he had told his father or not.

  The sun was starting to get low and I knew I’d have to get Reno on his way to the fire pit soon so we could take it real slow getting there. I wanted to find Tommy and Gabe to let them know. I hoped to find Luz, too, so I could tell her good-bye.

  George Hess was still pouring beers when I got back to the livery. I apologized to Reno for putting that saddle and halter back on him, but I kept him without a bit, like I always did, and then I led him out into the street. Every time Art Benavidez saw me riding like that he would scowl, sometimes calling me an Indian, but I never saw the sense in putting a metal bar in a horse’s mouth. At least, not one like Reno.

  “Nice try, number seven,” Chase Rutledge called out from the front of the store. He was smoking a cigarette with Jack Crutchfield. Nobody liked Jack except for Chase. He was one of those useless, overfed, and spoiled kids who got everything he wanted and just seemed to make Chase more powerful and more difficult when he stood behind him.

  I didn’t say anything, just pretended like I didn’t hear him at all.

  I found Tommy and Gabe over by the truck. The engine was already running, so I knew Tom was anxious to leave.

  “We’re going to get the horses and we’ll meet you out there,” Tom said. “If you want, I could switch to the stock trailer for Reno, too.”

  “That’s okay. If you bring it tonight, though, we could all ride out together tomorrow. We’ll be walking it slow. I’ll see you there,” I said. I knew he wanted me to leave with him right now. I looked around, scanning the crowd by the beer kegs. “Where’s your sister, Gabe?”

  “She went over there to get a soda,” he said, pointing to the big lawn outside the community center.

  “Uh-oh,” Tommy said and then got in behind the wheel.

  “I’ll see you guys there, then.”

  They drove off, me wondering what they’d be talking about right now, looking across at Luz sitting in the cool grass there, drinking a canned soda. I walked over to her and let go of Reno’s reins. He took a couple big chomps out of the grass, and I hoped nobody was watching.

  “Mind if number seven sits down with you for a second?”

  She just smiled and patted the grass beside her. I sat real close. Our knees and feet touched.

  “We’re all camping out at the fire pit tonight,” I said. “I know you can’t get away, but maybe you could ride out that way in the morning.”

  “Don’t tell me you boys are going to cook breakfast.”

  “I was actually hoping you’d bring it.”

  I put my hand on top of hers there in the grass. I couldn’t see her parents anywhere.

  “Maybe for five hundred dollars.”

  “It’s a date then,” I said. I set my sweaty hat down in the grass beside me and plucked at a few blades, letting them fall onto the brim. “Luz, I just wanted to tell you that you’ve … that this past year has been…” And then I stopped and inhaled a deep breath and pulled my one knee up to my chest.

>   “I love you, Luz.”

  I felt her squeeze my hand. I looked at her and it looked like she was going to cry.

  “I love you so much, Troy Stotts. Rider number seven.”

  And I know we would have kissed then, in spite of everyone being there, but we both heard her father calling out, “Luz! Luz!” from across the street. And I couldn’t say anything else.

  FIFTEEN

  Reno and I walked slowly along the south shore of the lake toward our fire pit, that red bandana tied like a flag around the knob of his saddle horn, the wrinkled number seven pinned with four brass safety pins to my chest; me staring straight ahead and not really seeing anything that was there, just taking it all in, and imagining myself sitting on that cool grass next to Luz Benavidez, feeling the touch of her hand on my body.

  The last bit of sun was just going down. Bats zipped and flitted between the trees, clicking, sometimes coming right down in front of my face.

  Out on the still and smooth lake, turning black at the edges and lighter than the sky in the middle, little circles popped up where fish broke the surface. The evening smelled like horse and pine and dry summer dust as we moved along; me swinging back and forth with that comfortable and confident gait of Reno’s. A baby hawk screeched from somewhere high in the trees.

  Isn’t this about the most beautiful place in the world, Troy?

  It was.

  I rode past the big rocks where we would swim the next morning, cutting in along a narrow trail beside the shore. I took my hat off and brushed my hair back and then put it back on, tilted back a little so I could see the sky, the first stars beginning to shine, and the pale piece of moon climbing up behind the black trees on the other side of the water.

  I could see a spiraling wisp of smoke rising from the trees in front of me, a glow casting yellow light between the trunks at the bottom. I could hear Tommy and Gabe laughing. They had already begun the ritual, the telling of stories, the jokes, the laughter, the routine we had followed so regularly for so many years that came and went and came and went.

  They didn’t notice when I stopped Reno back in the shadows of the trees and sat there, watching them, Tommy sitting on that old saddle in the dirt, facing the fire with his boots up on the ring of rocks that contained it, drinking from a tall red plastic cup. And Gabe, standing on the other side, flailing his arms around in some weird dance like a crippled bird and then falling down, talking loudly about something I couldn’t tell, and then them both erupting in laughter.

  “What’s so funny?” I said and rode Reno into the light.

  “It’s about time you got here,” Tommy said, and then stood up. “Hey, Stottsy, look what I got.”

  I got down from Reno, led him toward the truck where the other horses stood, and Tommy turned on the headlights. In the bed there was one of those kegs of beer, sitting in a galvanized tub of melting ice. I unbuckled Reno’s saddle and threw it over the side of the truck.

  “George Hess just told me to take it and bring it back empty. He was so happy, I think he’d never made so much money off that race before, so he just said for me to take that beer and go.”

  “Maybe Clayton just didn’t shake him down for his cut yet,” I said.

  I took my hat off and threw it in the window on the passenger side. “And I bet you didn’t argue with him about that. Is there any left?”

  Tommy grabbed one of the cups sitting down in the ice in that tub. “Let me pour you one, number seven.”

  I looked down at my chest, that number still pinned straight. “I will, then.”

  He handed me a cup, foaming over white and frothy. I drank it all right away and Tom took it back from me, saying, “Dang!” before filling it a second time.

  “Gabey! Gabey! Come on over. You said you’d have one, too, when Stotts got here!” Tommy said, cheeks reddening. “Come on, Gabey!”

  “Well, okay.”

  Gabe walked around to the gate of the truck and took the cup from Tommy.

  “Drink, my son, straight from the altar of the temple of F one-fifty,” Tom said, and made a cross in the air with a cup, teasing Gabriel.

  Gabe took a gulp, like he had seen me do, but I could tell he nearly gagged on it.

  “This stuff is nasty,” he said, frowning.

  “It grows on you,” I said.

  We carried our beers, walking through the white of the headlights, and took our places around the fire.

  “Stoke! Stoke!” Tom said to me.

  I grabbed two thick branches from the pile beside me and crossed them on top of the flames, then added two more across those and the fire kicked up so it was taller than any of us. Tommy sat, leaning back on that old worn saddle, and Gabe and I sat to either side of him, right on the ground, backs propped against rocks that we had placed just perfectly, so our knees would be bent with our feet up on the fire ring. Tommy pulled a can of tobacco from his back pocket, snapped it down three times, then took out a small wad and without saying anything or even looking at me, launched the can like a flying saucer to land right on my lap. I took some, too, and tossed the can back.

  Gabe was still frowning from the taste of the beer.

  “I wasn’t sure you’d make it, Gabey,” I said.

  “Well, I had to promise my dad I’d be home in the morning for church.”

  “You could’ve promised to grow wings and fly there, too,” Tommy laughed.

  “We were going to go swimming at the rocks,” I said.

  “It won’t be the first time I get in trouble for missing church,” Gabe said.

  “We’ll baptize you in the lake,” Tommy said. “It’s just as good.”

  “You know what my dad said, Troy?”

  “What?”

  “Don’t get mad or nothing, but he said the only person he knows who needs to go to church more than me is Troy Stotts.”

  “I guess I might as well be sitting here drinking beer with Satan himself as much as you two, then,” Tommy said, and we laughed. “In fact, I think I’ll have another.”

  “Bring one back for the devil, too.” I handed him my empty cup.

  “Good man, Stottsy.” He dragged his feet and almost tripped going back to the truck.

  “Why do you think he’d say that?” I said.

  “I know,” Tommy called from behind me as he poured those beers. I could hear him walking back toward the fire now. “I know. It’s ‘cause of Luz. That girl wants you, Stotts. I can see it.”

  Gabe smiled and looked at me like he was expecting me to say something. Well, I wasn’t going to say it, anyway. He took another sip and grimaced.

  “I’ve seen Mr. Benavidez geld a horse,” I said, instead, “and he wouldn’t think twice about doing that to me, too.”

  Tommy handed me down my beer and went back to the saddle.

  “You know, Stottsy, that was the other bet George Hess was taking money on. Whether you’d still have your balls when you turn seventeen or if they’d be in a jar on display somewhere in Art Benavidez’s office.”

  Gabriel laughed loud, spitting a spray of beer.

  “What’s the money favoring so far?” I said.

  “Doesn’t look good for your boys.”

  Gabe said, smirking, “And he’s got someone’s in there. In that office. I seen ‘em.”

  “Those would be yours, Gabey,” Tommy said and then spit and we all laughed.

  I drank my beer down. It tasted real good. Even Gabe finished his and said, “I’m hungry. Let’s break out the food.”

  “You bring stuff to eat, Tom?” I asked.

  “I always do.”

  Gabe stood up and I reached out my hand to him. “Help me up and let’s get it.”

  Gabe pulled and I almost toppled forward right into him.

  “You’re drunk, Stotts,” Tommy observed, still reclining back on that saddle.

  “I know. You want another?”

  He handed up his cup, and I took Gabe’s from him. “You’re having another, too, Gabey.”


  Gabriel and I went to the truck. I poured out three beers and Gabe opened up the leather saddlebags draped over Arrow’s saddle. He pulled out a bag of chips, some peanuts, and a package of jerky.

  “Looks like Tommy brought health food,” I said.

  “It’s all they eat at the Bullers’.”

  We went back to our places by the fire and sat and drank and ate for a while, staring into those flames. I was feeling a little rubbery, and I saw Gabe working hard on that second beer of his, but soon he started to get that reddening color in his face, too, and I knew he was getting drunk.

  “I want Stotts to tell us a story,” Tom said.

  “How about Gabey doing it this time?” I asked.

  “I’ll do it,” Gabe said.

  “Well, okay then,” said Tom.

  I put some more branches on top of the fire.

  “This happened a long time ago, before you and your dad came here, Tom,” Gabe began. “But I think it’s a kind of good story about me and Troy. I don’t remember exactly how old I was, but I was either just in kindergarten or first grade, probly, and Troy would have been about eight or nine.”

  Gabe took a sip and leaned back against his rock. “We decided to build a fort in front of our house one day.”

  “I remember that,” I said.

  “Good. But I’m still telling the story, so shut up. Our moms were inside doing something and they pretty much forgot all about us since we weren’t bugging ‘em. I don’t know where Luz was then, but it was just me and Troy and we started digging this big hole for our fort right out under the willow tree in our front yard.”

  I remembered the day, our mothers sitting and drinking coffee together. It was kind of strange hearing Gabriel talk about my mother. It made me feel a bit sad at first, but it also felt good to know that he had a picture of her in his head, too.

  Gabe went on. “We used big shovels from out of the barn and plywood and stuff. It seemed like we were out there for hours digging on that thing because it was pretty big.”