leaving a deep dent.
âHey!â Wayne yelled.
âMaybe if you cleaned up this place, he wouldnât have stepped on a wood staple! Looks like a hillbilly lives here!â
I tried not to cry but I just couldnât help it. Sub was standing there, his lower lip hanging loosely like an old manâs. I looked at his calm, strong face and cursed at him.
âThat was your daddyâs horse, Sid.â
Wayne chewed on a toothpick, thinking. âOne of the men quit at the barn. You want to come work there?â
I thought he was kidding me. âAt Oak Hill? Cleaning stalls for those rich kids?â
âYou think youâre too fancy?â
âThe last thing I need is a bunch of snotty girls bossing me around while I shovel their horsesâ shit.â
âCome right after school, and work on the weekends,â he said.
He was serious. He thought I would ride with him all the way over to Crozet to clean stalls. I knew he did it three times a week, and I figured that was his penance for being a drunk and not having a plan for his life. Damned if I was going to be his age and working as a stable hand. I wasnât going to do it at fourteen, either.
Wayne sliced open a bale of hay with his pocketknife. âYou want to make some money or not?â
âI donât need to make money that way. I make money riding and selling.â
âListen, Sidney. Your grandma got up at four thirty in the morning to shovel stalls before school, rode all day afterward.â
He was full of shit and I knew it. âI thought she was a catch rider.â
âShe was.â His voice was loud and sharp, and he straightened up and looked me right in the eye. I could tell he was going to let me have it.
âShe could ride any horse you gotâI donât care if it was a show hunter or a donkey or a Budweiser Clydesdale. She might have been poor, but she would iron her riding clothes until they were perfect, shine her boots, and go to a horse show, and them owners would be fighting each other to pay her to ride their horses. And when she rode, she won. You know how she learned all this? By working her ass off, night and day.â
âI work my ass off here with you.â
He looked at me, smiled, and let out a big guffaw. âYou think so, do you? Be here tomorrow after school. Three oâclock.â
I started up my engine with a roar and kicked up dirt as I left.
Driving home, as the sky grew dark, I looked at the paper mill, the smokestack lights blinking, like a ship on the ocean. As the shift changed, workers filed in and out like robots. I pulled over and watched them, wondering what it would be like to have a paycheck put right into my bank account. It would be great to get Donald out, and my mother would be so happy, whether she knew it or not. I saw a girl a little older than me walk out and get into a new truck. She drove past me, laughing into her cell phone.
I stayed up that night and read a little, just to get Ms. Cash off my back. The book was weird. It told you what was in every characterâs mind. I wondered if you really should feel empathy for some of these lowlifes. If you saw things through everyone elseâs eyes, the world would be a house of mirrors. It was confusing, and I fell asleep.
EIGHT
T HE NEXT DAY at school, I sat through my classes thinking about whether I would go to Oak Hill with Wayne. I couldnât learn anything new from shoveling more manure. It was all the same, whether it came from a fancy show jumper or an old mule.
When I passed by the main office on my way out the door, I saw Eileen Cleek being lectured by the assistant principal. âEileen, you miss more than two weeks of school this year, you ainât going to graduate.â
âDonât tempt me,â Eileen said.
I laughed, and Eileen winked at me, walked outside after me, and headed for her beat-up Chevy truck. A couple of boys yelled âLesboâ at her.