Spirit Horses by Alan Evans Read Free Book Online Page A

the
impending weather, Helen didn’t question the long Aussie coat Shane put on
before he left the house.
    An hour later, the meal Helen prepared was still
sitting on the table getting cold. She picked up the phone and dialed Terry’s
cell to see what the holdup was at the stable. Terry was on his way home when
he answered, “No, ma’am, he didn’t make it to the barn. I left there ten minutes
ago, and I never saw hide nor hair of him.”
    Helen got a sick, worried feeling in her stomach.
“Terry, I think you better get back here!”
    “Oh shit! I’m on my way!”
    It was growing darker by the minute, and the rain
was just beginning to fall when Terry slid his truck to a screeching halt in
front of the house. Helen flew out of the door to meet him as he got out. “Come
on,” he yelled. “I think I know where he is. There is a place I’ve seen him go
to think things over. It’s through the woods about a hundred yards behind the
house. There’s a big hill with an old oak on it. He told me just yesterday that
he and the kids had planned to build a tree house there this summer.” Terry
grabbed a flashlight from his truck and the two walked briskly through the
dark, dampened forest toward the hill.
    Shane had been sitting there drinking out of a
bottle for the hour he’d been missing. A bright flash of lightning and a loud
clap of thunder was quickly followed by a drenching downpour as he reached into
his coat pocket and pulled out the nickel-plated
revolver. He gritted his teeth and wiped the cold rain off his face with his
sleeve. “I’m sorry about this everyone,” he said under his breath as he pointed
the .38-caliber pistol to his right temple. His trembling wet thumb clumsily
slipped off the hammer when he attempted to cock it, with every intention to
end his misery.   Just then, he felt a
punishing hard thud on his back. The gun went flying out of his hand while he
and someone else were now plummeting down the side of the storm soaked, grassy
hill. He was too drunk to notice when Terry and Helen came up behind him
through the woods. As soon as Terry realized what was going on, he charged in
hard and they both ended up at the bottom of the muddy slope.
    As he knelt there huffing, Terry faced up to the
fact that Shane was in much worse shape than anyone realized. It was then that
Helen stomped down the hill and began to yell.
    “Damn it, Shane,” she cried, “enough is enough!
You’re going to see the grief counselor the doctor told you about�—�and
there will be no more drinking!”
    Helen and Terry looked across at each other, as
their emotions came to a head causing quiet tears to mix with the rain on their
wet faces. With their hearts still pounding and their hands still shaking, they
sat beside Shane to catch their breath. They all stayed there in the storm for
a while, not speaking. Suddenly Shane stood up, and with his head bowed,
sluggishly walked toward the house in silence. There he found some relief by
passing out for the rest of the night on the living room couch.  

 
    The next day Terry and Helen came down hard on him. “There’s been
enough death around here.” Helen said. “I stayed to help and I’ve been glad to
do it, but I will not stand by and watch another nightmare. You’re not going to
cause more pain to the people who care about you.”
    With tears streaming down her face, she grabbed his
shoulders and made him look at her. “Do you think that’s what Jen, Jacob, and
Tina would want? I know my daughter and grandchildren are in heaven looking
down on us, and I know that someday I’ll join them there.” She took a deep
breath and plunged on. “Shane, if you kill yourself, I believe you’ll never see
them again. Think about that!”
    Shane’s eyes opened wide; this was a sobering thought.
“I’ve never been an overly religious man, but I do believe in God and that
there is a heaven. I’ll be honest with you, Helen. I can’t understand how God
let this happen