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Authors: Lincoln Cole

BOOK: Ripples Through Time
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A few hours later she heard a knock on her door and opened
her eyes. She let out a big yawn, rubbing the sleep away. Her mother was
standing in her doorway.

“Uncle Vic’s here, and he brought his radio,” mother
said. 

“A horse race?”

“No, not tonight. The Kentucky Derby isn’t until next week.”

Emily let out a sigh.
If only.
“The Grand Ole Opry?”
she asked. It was technically called ‘The Prince Albert Show’ but everyone knew
of it as the Opry.

Mom nodded. “Come on, or you’re going to miss it.”

Emily followed into the living room where everyone was
gathered and took a seat next to her sister Janis. Her uncle was fiddling with
the radio, and all they could hear was static, but after a few minutes they
heard the station pick up. They listened in silence for a while, then Janis
leaned over to Emily:

“How’s Buell?” she whispered.

“He’s going to be okay,” Emily whispered back. “That’s what
dad said.”

“Natch,” Janis said. Those were the only words anyone spoke
during the entire show, and other than that the only sound was the Grand Ole
Opry broadcast with Red Foley.

Emily doubted that Janis really cared; she never really got
along with Buell and only tolerated him because they were related. The show
played until midnight, then went off the air and was replaced by static. 

Gradually the room returned to normal, and then they
filtered out to their own rooms and beds. Normally after listening to the show,
the boys would go out hunting for outhouses to tip over, but without Buell here
the adventure wasn’t even offered. Janis was one of the first to go to bed,
followed by her parents and cousins. Uncle Vic was the last to leave, patting
Emily on the head and humming to himself. 

She went back to her room and climbed into bed. It was a
quiet night after a long day. They wouldn’t have school the next day either,
and there wasn’t much work around the house, so she would have a relatively
free day. 

She felt tired, but didn’t think she would be able to sleep;
yet when she woke up the next morning, she didn’t remember falling asleep or
dreaming.

She remembered her last thoughts to be about Mary Munro and
her father and how confusing life was. Why did Mary invite her over after Emily
robbed her? Did Mary actually want to be her friend?
Could
 she be
friends with Mary?

Nothing made sense.

It made even less sense when she woke up the next morning
and went to find Olivia. Together they headed back to the same spot where they
waylaid Mary the morning before and waited. She couldn’t decide if she was
there to rob Mary again or ask to be her friend. Everything was just too
confusing.

But life was sweet

 

 

 

 

1953 -
Calvin Greenwood

Unexpected Meetings

 

“That was before I met her,” I say. “Before she came into
my life like a whirlwind.”

“Sounds like she had a tough life.”

I almost laugh. Almost.

“You have no idea.”

“How did you guys meet?”

“You mean like the first time I saw her?”

“Was it love at first sight?”

“Hell yes,” I say. The memory hits me like a
sledgehammer, and I can’t help but smile. It’s bittersweet though, tinged with
the despair I’ve felt since she left me.

Since she left me.

The words echo in my mind. If focus on the memory,
pushing the pain down, biting back the despair. I focus on the memory.

I remember it like it was yesterday. The first moment I
saw her, I knew just how important she was. Just how important she would be in
my life.

“I was working at the barn, back then…”

 

***

 

Calvin liked this horse a lot. Sebastian’s Way. He was a
laid back, easy going gelding, but one who still liked to run. Nothing like the
other horse he was looking after, Faraway Bay. Whenever he led Faraway Bay on a
cooldown walk like this, he would have to loop the lead-rope around
his hand in case the powerful animal tried to jerk away. Faraway
 
Bay
was a jumpy horse, high strung and energetic, and Calvin would inevitably end
his day with burns on his hands and exhausted from fighting.

But Sebastian’s Way was always calm and relaxed. Set off a
firecracker by his head and he'd just keep munching that blue-green grass.

Calvin patted the horse's’ slick neck, feeling the corded
muscles tense and contract as the horse chewed. His hand came away wet with
sweat and water and covered with short brown shedded hairs from the workout
twenty or so minutes ago, but Calvin didn’t mind. Being dirty—earthy, he liked
to call it—was a fact of life when working with horses. He brushed his hand off
on his pants and tugged on the lead rope, guiding the gelding further from the
barn.

The track was quiet this time of night. The sun was
setting and it would be dark soon. All of the horses were tucked away, getting
cleaned up and fed before the workers turned in for the night. Tomorrow morning
they would thunder around the racetrack again, but for now it was peaceful. Calvin
watched the clouds pass by overhead, tinged yellow and red by the setting
autumn sun.

“Hey daddy-O, you putting him away anytime tonight?”

The voice startled Calvin. He spun quickly, bumping
Sebastian’s Way. The horse snorted, sidestepped, and lowered his mouth back to
the grass below. Frankie Grove was standing there, not ten feet away, with a
smirk on his face. He was skinny, a lot skinnier than Calvin, and always dirty.
Calvin hadn’t heard him approach.

“In a bit,” Calvin said. “Just wanted to walk him a bit and
let him eat some grass.”

“Well if you let him keep going like he is, he’ll weigh six
thousand pounds in a week. You going to the bash?”

“Where?”

“Out,” Frankie reiterated. “Got paid today, and the money is
starting to burn my pockets.”

“What about Maribeth’s Dream?”

“What about her?”

“Well she’s fit to burst with that foal inside her.”

“It’ll keep ‘til morning,” Frankie said. “And if she has it
tonight what of it? Mares were birthing foals long before we got involved.”

Calvin shrugged. “I suppose,” he said, not convinced. It was
his job to make sure the birth went alright, and he didn’t want to make Butch Munro
mad at him. “I think I’ll stick around though, just in case.”

“Suit yourself,” Frankie said, and that was that. Frankie
turned and ran back to the barn, hollering at the other guys in the back of the
truck. Nine of them were piled on, laughing and slapping each other. Truth was,
Calvin wanted to go out with them. Go out to town and have fun. 

But he was worried about Maribeth’s Dream even if Frankie
wasn’t. And not just because it was his job. The last foal she birthed was
breach and it nearly killed her, and his uncle claimed that if a mare did that
once she’d probably do it again. 

He didn’t know if that was true, but it might be. And if
nothing else it sounded convincing. So he was stuck here taking care of a
pregnant mare while his friends were out having fun.

Calvin spotted Mikey heading back to the barn. Mikey was
only eight years old, but wild and clever as half the adults around here. Calvin
had taken a liking to the little kid and they’d become fast friends over the
last few months, since he’d started working for Butch’s farm. For his part
Mikey treated Calvin like his older brother.

Mikey looked low. Calvin guessed it was because the older
kids had gone into town and left him here on his own. They didn’t want to
babysit. Calvin usually took Mikey with him when he went to town, but that’s
because he knew better. Mikey didn’t need a babysitter, just a cohort. His
uncle wouldn’t let him go alone, and the last time Mikey snuck out without
permission he hadn’t been able to sit right for a week.

They had promised to play baseball tonight. Frankie must
have forgotten, so not only did the kid get skipped on his favorite game, he
got left too.

“Hey bean!” Calvin called. The kid looked up and waved.

“Hey. You aren’t fading out with the rest of them?”

“Nah. I’m still in charge of Maribeth’s Dream. I think the
foal is coming tonight.”

“Oh,” Mikey replied.

“Want to throw around a baseball?”

Mikey grinned. “Do I?”

 

***

 

“It’s happening!”

Calvin came-to groggily. He’d been asleep in his bedroom--a
small corner room he rented with a straw mattress and window near the barn--and
it had been a good dream. He shook his head, trying to clear cobwebs.

“…what?”

“Hurry. She’s already on the ground!”

Someone was pushing against his arm, cranked and worried. Mikey.
And he was worried. Calvin yawned.

“What? Yeah, alright.”

He knew he wasn't easy to wake up and Mikey was
the only one who would break into his room and do it. He blinked his eyes and
forced the sleep away. Mikey disappeared out the door, where there was already
a commotion. Calvin stood on unsteady legs and stretched out his back. He
hadn’t been planning to fall asleep, but there was nothing he could do about
that now.

Calvin followed them out of the house and to the barn in a
rush, struggling to keep up; the excitement in the air was palpable. There was
a crowd of people out there, four kids the same age as Mikey and three girls
about Calvin’s age. He only recognized Mary Munro, Butch’s daughter. The other
two were her friends, one slender and pretty and the other chunky. 

They were all looking at him expectantly as Mikey led him
over, and he gulped. This was his show, but he hadn’t been expecting an
audience. They might help, they might not, but they were definitely going to
watch.

He pushed away his nervousness and focused on the task at
hand. Beads of sweat ran down his neck and he brushed a few flies away,
determined not to miss anything or screw up. He hurried into the barn to the
third stall on the left. Maribeth’s Dream was already on the ground, moaning
and whinnying in pain. He knelt down next to her.

She was wild-eyed and breathing shallow breaths, and somehow
she’d managed to wedge her rear end up against the back of the stall when she’d
lain down. He doubted that he could have done much better than her in such a
situation, but it was still frustrating.

“We have to move her away from the wall so the foal has
enough room,” Calvin said, working his way alongside the hips of the large
animal. Maribeth’s Dream didn’t struggle, and the look in her eyes seemed to be
a mix of anticipation. And fear. 

Though not as much fear as Calvin would have expected. She
wasn’t panicking, which was good, but that might have been because she simply
didn’t have the energy.

“We have to move fast,” Calvin reiterated to Mikey. He
wanted to take a look at her. Make sure everything was in proper order, but he
couldn’t do it alone.

Still nothing happened.

He glanced up. The crowd stared at him, mute and fascinated
and utterly useless. 

“Where’s Mikey?”

“He, uh…” Mary said, glancing around. “He left.”

Calvin sighed. “Great, just great.”

“Want me to go find him?”

“No. There won’t be time. Hold her head and I’ll rotate her
back end.”

Mary’s eyes went blank with fear. “Me?” she whispered.

“Anyone,” Calvin replied. “She’s heavy but I can lift her, I
just need someone to keep the head down.”

No one moved.

“Mary? I need help here.”

“Uh…”

Calvin bit back a few angry sentiments and fought to control
his rising anger. These were Butch’s horses, so it always surprised him that
Butch’s daughter was so scared around them. She was a very timid girl. Friendly
and brilliant with a big nose and brown eyes, but entirely too timid.

But it wasn’t her fault. He turned to the girl next to her.
The chubby one. 

“You? Can you help me?”

The girl looked away, biting her lip.

“Anyone?”

Everyone found something else to stare at, refusing to meet
his eyes.

Everyone except one girl. The slim friend with black hair.
Calvin had seen her around the barn a few times and always thought she was
cute. She nodded firmly at him and stepped forward, putting her hands on the
mare’s head. 

“Thank you,” he said, nodding back at her. There was a
little fear in her eyes, but even more steel.

She smiled at Calvin, and it was a comely smile. He found
his breath catching in his throat. Her eyes were stunning and green and they reflected
the dim light. She had a thin face and dimples. Right now that face was pale. Scared
as hell, but willing to help. Calvin was grateful.

“Push down harder, and use your knee to keep her down. If
she gets her head up she might try to roll or stand. I can’t afford that.”

The girl gingerly pushed her knee against the horse’s neck. Calvin
grabbed the mare’s hips. She was heavy, especially with the foal, but he
managed to adjust her back end inside the cramped stall.

The horse moaned softly, pushing her head up against the
girl, but she kept the mare’s head down with a firm push. The horse let out a
shuddering breath and whinnied.

“It’s okay girl, relax,” Calvin said softly to the horse.

The next few minutes were a terrifying blur for Calvin. He
managed to get ahold of the foal and gently guided it out. It wasn’t breach,
Thank God, but it was turned on its side. It came easier than he could have
hoped once he’d changed her positioning in the stall, and the entire time the
girl helping him kept the mare calm with soothing words. She spoke too low for
Calvin to make the words out.

She had a pretty voice, and Calvin found himself stealing
glances at her. He couldn’t help himself, and he was glad that she was here.

For her part, Maribeth’s Dream was miserable through it all.
With good reason.

Finally it was over. The foal lay on the ground beside him. It
was whinnying and gasping, but not moving much.

“A towel,” he said, and this time Mary ran off to grab one. She
handed it to Calvin, and he offered it to the girl helping him.  

“Would you mind cleaning her off? I’ll take care of the
mare,” Calvin said, gesturing at the foal.

“Clean…clean her off?” the girl echoed.  

“Yeah,” Calvin said.

“I won’t hurt her, will I? She looks so fragile.”

Calvin laughed. “Believe me, if you try to hurt her,
Maribeth’s Dream here will have something to say about it.”

The girl knelt down and began gently wiping the foal off
with the towel. “Her feet look…is she okay? Is this normal?”

It was true the feet looked wrong, but the foal was just
fine. Small, white tendrils poked out of the bottom where the hooves would
eventually be. Calvin had seen it so many times he barely noticed, but he knew
it would seem strange to someone uninitiated. They looked like little squid
tentacles coming out of its legs.

“All foals look like that when they are born. Having hoofs
and trying to come out a birth cavity would not be ideal, so they grow in
within a few hours. By tomorrow she’ll look normal. I’ll put some iodine on
them to make sure she doesn’t get infected.”

The girl nodded and returned to her work. Calvin watched as
she ran the towel across the foal’s body. She was so gentle, so loving, that he
spent more time watching her than the baby.

That was almost disastrous. The baby was struggling to
breathe, but Calvin didn’t see the foal’s chest moving.

Damn it, her air is clogged
: “She isn’t breathing
right.” 

“What?” the girl said, stumbling away from the baby. “I
didn’t…”

“It’s fine,” Calvin said gently, coming over and kneeling. It
was whinnying, but the sound was muffled and distant. “Nothing you did. She
just has mucus in his throat. Here, I’ll hold her mouth open but I need you to
use your fingers to scoop whatever is blocking her airway.”

The girl didn’t reply for a long moment. “Hurry,” Calvin
said. “She needs to get air.”

Slowly, the girl reached forward and began using her fingers
to clear the throat. The foal’s eyes were wild and terrified, and the tongue
kept flicking out to push the hand away. Calvin used his knee to hold the baby
down and held the mouth open. 

The look on the girl’s face of mild terror and focused
determination was endearing, Calvin decided. She looked on the verge of passing
out, but her iron will kept her hands moving in quick precise motions. Calvin
found his eyes wandering, studying the concave of her throat and the soft skin
of her neck. Her full lips were quivering in concentration. She really was quite
beautiful, even in a situation like this.

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