The Second Life of Abigail Walker (15 page)

Abby sucked in her gut. “I'm sort of scared of falling off,” she announced in a voice louder than she intended. “But I guess I could try.”

Matt nodded. “Trying is good.”

Abby followed Matt into the tack room, paying close attention to everything he was telling her about riding as he searched around for a bridle: how to grip the saddle with her knees and hold the reins in one hand while her other hand was on the saddle horn. She tried to keep her breathing steady and her mind off the fact
that all of the sudden she needed to go to the bathroom. Bad.

“I got Ruckus when I was just out of high school,” Matt told Abby as they headed toward the horses' stalls, Matt carrying the saddle, Abby walking behind him holding the bridle, halter, and reins. “I actually thought I might go work on a ranch out west.”

“Why didn't you?” Abby asked from the alley as Matt entered Ruckus's stall. Ruckus backed up a few steps when Matt threw the saddle on his back, and Abby did too.

“I joined the Peace Corps instead,” Matt replied, patting Ruckus on the rump. “You're all right, boy,” he told the horse. He leaned down to tighten the saddle's cinch strap around the horse's girth. He didn't sound nervous, but Abby could see his hands fumbling with the strap. “That's where I met Anders's mom, in Kenya. After we finished up with that, I joined the army. I'd done peace and thought I'd give war a try.”

“Really?” What a weird thing to say!

Matt gave one last tug, then motioned for
Abby to hand him the halter and bridle. “No, not really.” He laughed. “I joined the army so they'd pay for college when I was done. But I never got done. I stayed in. Anders was born in Germany, did he ever tell you that?”

Abby shook her head. She suddenly realized she didn't know much about Anders at all, like when his birthday was or what he liked to eat for dinner.

“Yeah, he was. We traveled all the time when we were over there. It was awesome.” He slipped the halter over the horse's head, then gently pried open his mouth. Ruckus struggled, but finally allowed the bit to be inserted. Matt looked at Abby. “Okay, you ready to get up? Like I said, Ruckus is real easy. Nothing to be afraid of.”

Abby wondered if he was saying that to try to convince her, or if he was trying to convince himself.

“I'm ready,” she told him, though she didn't know if she was ready or not. When Matt boosted her up into the saddle, she settled into it and closed her eyes. She felt a little dizzy. “How many hands is Ruckus?” she asked, eyes still closed,
not sure if she wanted to know the answer.

“Fifteen,” Matt told her. “Pretty tall. Okay, I'm going to lead you guys out now. Hold on.”

Abby held the reins in one hand and clung to the saddle horn with her other hand. Ruckus moved easily beneath her, his feet clopping against the wood floor. She supposed that compared to Matt, she seemed light to Ruckus. She straightened up and opened her eyes. Suddenly she had the strangest feeling, like maybe, for once, she was the right size.

“I'll lead you as long as you want me to,” Matt said, taking the reins from Abby, “and then if you want to ride a little by yourself, you can. Just use the reins to let Ruckus know what direction you want to go in, and give him a little kick if you want him to go faster. You can just walk, though. You don't have to go any faster than this.”

Abby sat up straight in the saddle and looked around her. Which made her want to lie down. She was up too high! The ground was miles beneath her, and if she fell, she'd break into a million pieces.

But you're not falling
, she told herself, and she realized it was true. She wasn't even slipping. She gripped her knees tighter into Ruckus's sides, hoping she wasn't hurting him. But the horse clopped along, not seeming to give Abby a second thought.

I'm not falling
, Abby thought gleefully.
I'm riding!

Matt walked them into the field, turning around from time to time to look at Abby and smile. “You're doing great,” he told her. “A natural.”

Abby didn't feel like a natural exactly, but she didn't feel unnatural, either. She didn't feel like crying or throwing up or begging Matt to get her down. She felt—okay. Tall. She sat with this okay, tall feeling for a few minutes until she decided she wanted to feel something even bigger. “I guess I'd like to try to ride him by myself.” Her voice sounded shaky. She tried again. “I'd like to ride him by myself.”

Matt nodded slowly. “Uh, yeah, okay. You sure?”

Abby nodded, and Matt handed her back
the reins. “I'll just stay here in case you need me. Take as long as you want.”

Abby tapped Ruckus gently on his side with her heel. He started off again in his slow-gaited walk. Abby took a deep breath and tapped his side again. She wanted more—not too much more, but more—and when Ruckus quickened into a trot, her stomach lifted toward her chest, the way it did when she swung high on the playground swings.
It's like flying
, she thought happily, though she knew they weren't even galloping. Who cared? You didn't have to go a hundred miles an hour in order to fly.

The helium feeling filled her up again as she and Ruckus trotted across the field, the October sun getting low in the sky. Abby threw her head back and laughed. She could do this forever. She never wanted to get off. She rode and rode and had no idea how long she'd been riding.

It was the thought of Matt standing alone in the field that made her turn back. When she reached him, he was crying. Abby's heart started beating hard. How could he be crying? Everything had been fine! He had been fine!
What had happened while she was gone? Did he think Ruckus had run off with her? Had thrown her?

“I'm okay!” Abby cried in a panicky voice. “I'm really okay! Everything's okay. Ruckus was steady, just like you said.”

Matt shook his head, wiping his wet face with the back of his arm. “I know you're okay. Why wouldn't you be? You have everything ahead of you. Everything's new. And you think the world is beautiful.”

“It is beautiful,” Abby said, trying to sound calm even though her hands were shaking and she couldn't get her thoughts straight enough to figure out what she should do next. Did she need to call 911?
Simmer down
, she told herself.
Try to help.
To Matt, she said, “Look at Ruckus. He's beautiful, isn't he?”

Matt looked at Ruckus for a long time. “Yes,” he said finally. “He really is.”

Abby held out her hand to him. He reached up and took it.

“We could go inside and work on your poem until everyone gets back,” Abby said, feeling
better now that she had hold of him. “If you wanted to.”

“Okay,” he said, and to Abby he sounded like a little kid. She handed him the reins.

“He's real steady, just like you said,” Abby repeated. “He's good. All you have to do is hold on.”

Matt nodded. “I know.”

They began walking toward the stable. “Do you know about George Shannon?” Abby asked, and when Matt shook his head, she said, “It's a really good story. You want to hear it?”

“Do I have a choice?” Matt asked with a laugh. He sounded better to Abby, more like a grownup again.

“You don't,” Abby told him. “So listen up.”

where've you
been?” her mom called when Abby walked inside the house. “Dinner's almost ready.”

“Just walking around the creek,” Abby told her, coming into the kitchen, which smelled like onions and paprika.

“Could you stir the sauce for me?” Her mother was working on her laptop at the kitchen counter. “What creek, honey? I didn't know there was a creek around here.”

“It's a couple streets over,” Abby said, picking up the wooden spoon that was on the stove.
She stirred the liquid bubbling in the dutch oven. “It's not a very big creek, but it has some nice rocks.”

Abby's mother looked up from the computer. “I didn't know you were interested in nature, honey. That's nice. And
I
have something nice to tell you.”

Abby put down the spoon and took a seat at the kitchen table. Her mother's idea of nice and hers weren't always the same. She braced herself.

“Kristen has invited you to a sleepover at her house on Friday!” her mom announced, as though she were telling Abby she'd won the lottery. “You haven't slept over at Kristen's since last summer. And the other girls will be there too. Kristen was so excited when I told her you could come.”

No way. No honking way. She'd wake up in the middle of the night with her sleeping bag filled with grasshoppers or ants, maybe both. They'd stick her finger in water while she was asleep to make her pee. Kristen would decide to do one of her famous “personality makeovers” and choose Abby as her victim, reciting a long
list of Abby's faults and ways she could improve. Nope, Abby wasn't going.

But if she told her mom that, all the joy would drain out of her face. Her mom wanted so badly for everyone to be happy, for everything to work out. Maybe when your sister dies when you're nine, you spend the rest of your life trying to make sure nothing else bad happens, that no one's ever unhappy again.
But that's impossible
, Abby thought.
And unfair.

It wasn't fair that Abby had to pretend things were nice all the time.

So she said it. Said, “I don't want to spend the night at Kristen's. The only reason I'm invited is so they can all gang up on me. They hate me.”

“Of course they don't hate you!” her mom exclaimed. “How can you even think such a thing?” She walked over to the stove to stir the pot, then turned back to Abby. “Honey, I'm so sorry you feel this way, but it's simply not true.”

Abby took a deep breath. “Listen to me, Mom. It
is
true.”

Suddenly her mom looked angry. “Stop it! I
know you miss Claudia, I know it's hard when your best friend moves. But you have to make new friends, Abby. And here are these girls who seem like they're trying very hard to be friends with you. So why are you turning away? You need friends. Everybody needs friends. So whether you want to or not, you're going to this sleepover. You're going to make an effort to be nice.”

Abby didn't know what to say. What do you do when you tell the truth and nobody believes you?

“I'm not going,” she said after a few moments. “I'm really not.”

Abby's mom sighed. “Do we need to talk to your father about this?”

Abby slumped in her chair. She knew her father would make her go. And while he was at it, he'd look her up and down and say something like, “You need more friends. You need to be outside, running around. That's how you lose weight.”

“No,” Abby replied glumly. “I guess not.”

“You'll have a wonderful time, Abby!” Just
like that, her mom sounded like her old cheerful self again. Everything was happy, everyone was at peace. That was all that mattered.

Abby pushed back her chair and stomped out of the kitchen. She stomped up the stairs as loud as she could, each stomp announcing how mad she was, how irritated, how misunderstood. In her room, she flung herself on her bed and glared at Perd. “If I have to go, you're coming with me,” she warned him.

Perd looked back at her, clearly dismayed.

Abby rolled over and reached to the floor beside her bed, where her copy of
Undaunted Courage
was lying open, facedown. Ha! Her mom hated when Abby mistreated books. “You'll crack the spine,” she was always complaining.

“
You'll crack the spine
,” Abby hissed in a falsetto voice as she picked the book up. “
You'll crack the spine
.”

She lay back on the bed and tried to read. She still thought the book had too many boring parts, but she'd learned how to skim over them to get to the good stuff. She liked how brave the
people on the Lewis and Clark expedition had been, traveling into unknown territory, trying to make friends with the Indians. And she liked thinking about George Shannon. She thought if she'd been on the expedition, they would have become friends. She wouldn't even have minded getting lost with him all the time. It would be like an adventure inside of an adventure.

“Abby, come down here! I want to talk to you!”

Her mom, Abby knew, was standing at the foot of the stairs, her hands on her hips. Abby had stomped off, and stomping wasn't really allowed in her house. It wasn't
nice
.

“You're going to that sleepover, Abby!”

Abby thought about George Shannon sitting all alone on the prairie, the coyotes howling in the distance.

Watch out, George
, she wanted to call out.
They're getting closer.

“Can't wait until tomorrow night!” Kristen chirped to her on the bus the next day.