Walk Me to the Distance by Percival Everett

Walk Me to the Distance by Percival Everett

Author:Percival Everett
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Walk Me to the Distance
ISBN: 9781941088982
Publisher: Dzanc Books
Published: 1985-10-15T00:00:00+00:00


CHAPTER

21

DAVID AND HOWARD halted their horses at the lip of a ravine north of Sixbury’s. The sun had fallen most of the way over the horizon, edged pink across the sky against and above the remaining snow. A thin stream of water split the ditch.

“Well, I don’t know,” said Howard. “You’re taking on an awful lot.”

“Sixbury’s taking on the responsibility.”

“That’s easy to say.”

The mare David was riding snorted and stepped back. “I never had it in my head to settle here.”

“Tell me about it.”

“You know, when Patrick was lost I felt like I ought to stick around.”

“Sixbury can make it easier without Patrick than with him,” said Howard.

“That’s what I told myself.” He pulled his horse in a tight circle. “Now, with the kid—” he yawned, shaking his head—“I really feel like I should stay.”

“I can understand that.”

They headed up toward the big branch of the river, the sun gone now. The horses stepped slowly up a hill on which stood a lone cottonwood. At the base of the tree were the scattered entrails of an animal.

“Hey, well, that’s something,” said Howard, climbing down from his horse and examining the parts more closely. “Looks like a sheep, but who can tell.”

“A sheep? What do you think? Coyote?”

Howard laughed out a breath. “I ain’t heard of a coyote yet that dresses out prey and carries the whole works away. I mean, there ain’t nothing but guts here.”

“Huh.” David looked all around. “You’re right about that. Such a thing as a sheep rustler?”

“I suppose anything is possible.”

The mare was out in the barn lot while David shoveled out her stall. Sixbury stood by. Butch played about the barn.

“You think I’m crazy,” said Sixbury.

“Yep.” David pushed the full wheelbarrow past her and out to the compost heap.

Sixbury watched him. When he was once again in the stall, she said, “I suppose I am crazy.”

“Yep.”

“You shouldn’t feel like you’re on the spot,” she said and looked across the corral at Butch climbing on the fence. “I don’t expect you to stay here.”

“Okay.”

David felt bad. He filled the barrow again and made the trip to the compost heap. He saw that Butch had pushed open the gelding’s stall door and was standing behind the horse. He put down the barrow and entered the stall, stepping between the child and the animal.

“Go on,” he said, “play somewhere else.”

Something spooked the horse as the child ran out and he kicked David in the small of the back, pushing him face-first into the wall. He felt a long sliver slide into his cheek.

He yelled as he picked himself up. “Butch! Get into the house!”

Butch froze, staring blankly at David’s sudden display of anger.

“Go!” He pointed at the house. “And stomp the shit off your shoes.”

Sixbury had stepped out into the corral and was now looking at David. David looked into her face for a second, feeling his cheek. He could feel the wood under his skin. He turned away from her and went into the house, into the bathroom to extract the splinter.



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