Ripples Through Time (6 page)

The volume inched up another octave.

“…and at the wire Misty’s Jumper has it by a nose!”

Some people screamed. Some hugged. One man threw his hat on
the ground and cursed. Everyone was invested.

It took Calvin a minute to remember he hadn’t actually
placed a bet on the three. He didn’t care. It didn’t matter.

The crowd gradually calmed back down and Calvin realized he
was out of breath. He chuckled to himself, shaking his head. He remembered the
first time, some ten years ago, when his dad took him to the track.

He’d been Mikey’s age. The racing bug had bit him hard, and
he remembered thinking that this was what he wanted to do when he got older.
And one day he wouldn’t just help train horses, but he would own them. He
wanted to capture that excitement, to bottle it, to hold onto forever.

He still did. It was euphoric. Addictive. The racing
industry would be around forever, he knew. There was nothing comparable to this
level of excitement.

“One more race on the ticket, right?”

The voice startled him. He hadn’t heard anyone walk up
behind him. Calvin turned, one hand dropping to his pocket where he kept a
pocket knife. Mary Munro stood there, smiling at him. He pulled his hand back,
embarrassed, and then nodded. She’d caught him completely off guard.

“Yeah, one more.”

“This is the one with Faraway Bay, right? The one you
train?”

He nodded again. “He has the rail. If he breaks well he’s a
shoe in.”

Mary nodded, still smiling. Calvin had the vague impression
that her smile was at an inside joke, but one that he wasn’t privy to. She was
alone, at least for now, and he tried to keep his emotions at bay. It felt like
excitement and anxiety were doing battle in his stomach. Maybe the unknown girl
with green eyes would be here, after all.

The thought was terrifying.

“So…have you seen Mikey?” he asked. It was the only question
he could think of that wouldn’t giveaway his intentions.

“Oh, he’s on his way. With Emily and Olivia,” she said,
accenting the first name. “I have to say, I wasn’t expecting him to wake me up
quite so early this morning.”

Calvin groaned. He couldn’t stop himself. “What did he do?”

“Oh nothing. Except make me 
promise
 to come
to the track today and to bring Emily.”

“That little…”

“Oh it’s nothing. My father got us passes and I was already
planning on inviting Emily and Olivia to the fair. I was just kind of
surprised. He told me some interesting things.”

“Like what?”

“Oh, you know. This and that…”

She was clearly having a lot of fun.

“I swear if I’d known he was lying to me…”

Mary laughed. “It’s okay, Cal, really. I just wanted to give
you a heads up that they were on their way over. It’s actually quite sweet.
Emily is a real cat, and with you she’ll finally be able to go on double dates
with me and Steven.”

Calvin couldn’t think of anything to say. His palms were
sweating now as she so casually laid his intentions bare. Part of him wanted to
deny it and dismiss the possibility, but another part looked at things more
reasonably. That 
was
 why he was here, after all.

The only problem was, he had no idea what to say. Should he
just come out and ask Emily on a date? Should he try to be friendly first and
then ask her later? Or should he just talk to her today and hope that sometime
in the future he might be able to ask her out.

He honestly didn’t know. He wished he had as much confidence
in the inevitability of Emily saying ‘yes’ as Mary did.

When he actually thought about it, it was a stupid plan. He’d
met Emily once. They’d spoken barely three words to each other, and then she’d
been gone. If she had felt the same connection he’d felt for her she wouldn’t
have left so fast, right? 

Right?

He didn’t know, and he hated the insecurity.

He felt his confidence ebbing away. What the hell was it
about this girl that made him feel so…helpless? He’d known lots of girls, and
they were pretty much just people. Talking to them, seeing them had never been
a problem. He’d asked a few out, had fun. But there was just something entirely
different about Emily. Something that made him feel simultaneously terrified
and alive.

He just had no idea what he was supposed to do to win her
over. He was terrified she would say no. But he was just as terrified that she
would say yes. What would they do? How would he impress her? 

He felt out of sorts with no clue what to say. He thought
back to a slogan he’d seen at Butch’s racing stable. Something someone
wrote up on the tack wall. It said: 

Step 1: Buy a horse.

Step 2:??????

Step 3: Profit! 

That was how Calvin felt right now. He’d met a pretty girl
and he wanted to win her affection, but he had no idea how. It had never seemed
so important before. He had no idea what step two was. 

“Oh, here they come,” Mary said, waving toward her friends. Calvin
felt his heart doing leaps. Mary looked at him with an expression of mixed pity
and amusement. “Just breathe, Calvin.”

“Easy for you to say,” he muttered. He spotted the two girls
with Mikey making their way across the courtyard to them. It was a lull between
races, not nearly as packed as it would be in a few more minutes.

Emily was beautiful, her hair in a ponytail with a green
ribbon and yellow dress. The sun caught her skin, still pale but not
unattractive. But it was her smile that captivated him. He’d thought she
was pretty at the barn. She was stunning.

“’And yet, by heaven, I think my love as rare as any she
belied with false compare,’” Mary quoted, watching his face.

“What?” Calvin asked, distracted. Mary giggled.

“Oh nothing.”

The other girl, Olivia, was shorter and stouter with lighter
hair. She wore a sun dress and ribbons in her hair and was pretty, in her own
way.

But Calvin had eyes only for Emily. He’d been quietly
wondering how she could have such a residual effect on him. How could 
anyone
 have
that kind of effect on anyone else, for that matter?

He’d dated several girls, even kissed a few. Some had been
friends, others he’d only met a few times before they dated. But none of them,
ever, had made him feel like Emily did. Love at first sight seemed so
preposterous.

And yet…

“I don’t think you’ve all been introduced. Calvin this is
Olivia, Olivia, Calvin, and this is Emily.”

Calvin nodded at them both, wondering if he should offer to
shake their hands. Or kiss their knuckles. Or something. He didn’t know proper
etiquette, and he’d also never had a need to before today. He settled on a
polite nod, still aware of his sweaty palms.

A moment of awkward silence and exchanged glances passed,
and then Mary spoke up again. “Olivia, could you help me go place a bet? I
wanted to put a few dollars on the next race. It’s one of my father’s horses.”

Olivia scrunched up her nose. “You need 
me
 to
help with that?”

“Yes, Olivia,” Mary added, punctuating the words with a
glare.

“But we just 
came
 from that direction. Why
didn’t you place the bet when we were by the booths?”

“I only just now thought of it,” Mary said.

“And actually I’ll come too,” Mikey said, grinning at
Calvin. “Calvin asked me to place a couple dollars on the next race for him
too.”

And then he winked. Calvin almost laughed at the absurdity
of it all. Mechanically he pulled the wadded bill and change out of his pocket
and handed it to Mikey.

“Let’s go before the lines get too long,” Mary said, still
glaring at Olivia.

“Oh, alright,” Olivia said, exasperated. “Are you coming,
Em?”

“Actually I think Em should stay here,” Mary said, her voice
taking on a note of incredulity. “To make sure to save us a spot when we get
back.”

Olivia shrugged. “Okay.”

To her credit, Emily was staring off at the track and
pretending like she wasn’t paying attention. Mary practically dragged Olivia
away, and Mikey disappeared after them.

Calvin leaned against the rail next to her and fought down
his panic reflex. He glanced over at her and smiled. She glanced at him and
smiled. Their eyes met. He quickly looked away.

Calvin looked back. Emily quickly looked away.

“So…” Calvin started.

He cleared his throat.

Emily waited patiently. Calvin was grateful for that. The
announcer was starting the calls for the next race. In a few minutes they would
begin the parade, walking the horses in front of the stands.

Calvin tried to think of something to say.

Anything really.

A sentence, maybe.

“So I never got the chance to thank you for the other
night,” he said finally, then cursed himself. Of 
course
 he’d
already thanked her. And that wasn’t what he wanted to say anyway.

“Oh…it was no problem.”

“And I’m sorry about your dress. Come to think of it, I hope
you managed to get the stains out but I wasn’t sure if you’d be able to. And if
you weren’t able to get the stains out then I suppose you’d have to get a new
dress. But that was a very nice dress.”

And now that he started talking, he couldn’t get himself to
shut up.

“Thank you but I’m not terribly worried about it. My father
used to own cows so I’ve done that sort of thing fairly often. Though not in
quite a few years. If I’d known a horse was in foal I would have worn different
clothes when I went to Mary’s.”

Calvin nodded. A tense moment slipped past. Probably thirty
seconds, but it felt like an hour. They exchanged another awkward glance.

“One of the horses I train is in this next race.”

“Yes, Mary told me.”

Of course Mary did. Why wouldn’t she? And what kind of
statement was that anyway?
 Calvin didn’t know if he’d meant to impress
Emily or was just idly talking. He felt like such an idiot. 

Should he ask her about the weather? Her family? He didn’t
know. He didn’t know, in fact, anything about her other than she was beautiful
to look at and listen to and he wanted to spend more time with her.

The entire situation was ridiculous and getting worse. If he
asked her out, of course she would say ‘no’. They didn’t even know each other.

He should give up now, while he was behind.

“What did you name her?” Emily asked suddenly. Her voice
ripped him from his panic and Calvin quietly gathered his thoughts.

“Her?”

She giggled. “The baby from the other night. It was a she,
wasn’t it?”

Oh yeah. Pay attention Calvin! Stupid,
 
stupid
.
“It isn’t my mare or foal, so I don’t get to do the naming.”

“Oh,” Emily said, lowering her eyes. “Well, what 
would
 you
name her?”

Calvin shrugged. “I’m a traditionalist, so I would probably
name her something similar to the mare’s name. Maribeth’s Dream. So maybe
Maribeth’s Star, or…I don’t know. Maybe Bethany’s Heart.”

“Bethany’s Heart,” Emily echoed, smiling at him. “I like
that.”

That smile, so pure and innocent of intention, gave him back
his confidence. He saw the entire world in that smile. The future. He glanced
over and saw Mary, Olivia, and Mikey making their slow way across the courtyard
toward them. It was filling back up for the next race, the last of the day.

Now or never. He might not even see Emily again after today,
and that was something, he realized, that he could not abide.

He cleared his throat.

“Emily, would you like to…I mean if there’s the time and
opportunity for…I suppose what I’m trying to say is…maybe some time in the
future…whenever it’s convenient maybe…”

She smiled and gently touched his arm. “I’d love to.”

“To…go out?”

She nodded.

At that moment, Calvin realized there 
was
 something
sweeter than anything the race track could offer. He felt invincible,
unstoppable. The world was his.

“Hey, did you save us our spots?”

They turned as the others approached and nodded. “Yep, of
course,” Calvin said. Mary locked eyes with him for a second and then smiled
knowingly.

“That’s good,” she said. “That’s very good.”

Calvin felt a tug on his arm and glanced down. Mikey was
holding up the ticket for him. It was the last money from this week’s paycheck.
Calvin patted Mikey on the shoulder and laughed.

“Keep it.”

I rub a hand across my cheek and let out a breath.

This is 
not
 how I was planning on spending
my day off.

I didn’t exactly have huge plans (store for milk and bread,
bank to deposit a check), but that’s not really the point, is it? The point is,
when Bethany called me, I didn’t think it was to go talk her father out of...

…this.

And there’s no way Bethany knew.

“I won’t let you walk, either. I won’t let you do this.
Sorry, Calvin, it’s nothing personal…”

Calvin waves his hand to stop me. The gesture is vaguely
reminiscent of swatting at a bug. In this moment, he looks older. Sunk into his
chair, barely more than skin and bones. He looks older than he has in years.

I’ve known him on and off for almost my entire life. My
brother married his daughter over thirty years ago. Calvin was the bedrock of
the family from the time I knew him until now. He worked sixty hour weeks and
spent the rest of his time at the track with his horses. He was the foundation
on which his family was built.

I’ve been busy with my own family, so I haven’t really been
paying attention to him. He’s hurting. I never imagined Calvin to sink this
low. He’s done a lot of stupid things in his life: drinking, gambling, smoking.
The trifecta. He’s always been a tortured soul, but this is something
different.

I think he really means to kill himself.

And that scares the shit out of me.

“No, Edward,” Calvin says. He can’t look me in the eyes. “You’re
right, I shouldn’t ask that of you. But…”

“You don’t want me telling Bethany,” I say. It’s not a
question. Calvin looks shocked, that look that only a man can get when he’s
cornered doing something he shouldn’t. Young men learn that look at a young age
from dealing with mothers.

Calvin lets out a shrug, his hunched shoulders bobbing up
and down a few inches. It’s over eighty degrees today, and he’s wearing a white
sweater, a work shirt, and two undershirts, and he still looks cold. Maybe I
should grab him a coat.

“You can tell her,” he says. “Just not today.”

“I have to tell her. She’s your child. My brother’s wife.”

“And you’re my friend.”

“Don’t play that card on me,” I say, shaking my head. “I
would do anything for you, Calvin. You know I would. Of course I’m your friend.
But this is different. I can’t just 
not 
tell your daughter
something like this.”

“It was a moment,” Calvin says, waving his hand again. “Just
a moment of weakness. I didn’t mean it. I won’t kill myself.”

I sigh and rub my eyes. “Do you want to know how I know you’re
lying?”

“How?” he asks.

“Your mouth is open.”

For a long minute he’s quiet. Just staring at me with rheumy
eyes. Piercing intelligent orbs, slightly muddled. It is like looking through a
stained glass window at the soul of the man that lies beneath.

Then he laughs. It’s a belly laugh, not unlike shaking a bag
of tools. I smile softly at the corner of my lips.

“Mellie always said that,” he says.

“I know,” I say. “That’s where I heard it.”

He keeps laughing for a good thirty seconds, rubbing at the
moisture in his eyes.

“Did I ever tell you about that time we went down to
Kentucky for the race and it started snowing?”

Only a thousand times.

“No,” I say politely.

“It started snowing, and it’s just me and Mikey in the
truck. Mikey was, God, couldn’t have been older than sixteen. We’re taking
three horses up to a race, and Mellie kept telling me to be careful. Drive
slow. She made me stop and call her every gas station we passed.”

He pauses here, gathering his thoughts. I read a study once
that you can test for Alzheimer’s with a smelling test using peanut butter.
Hold it up to someone’s nose, and depending on how far away they can smell it
you can determine if their memory is going or not.

I don’t think Calvin has any peanut butter.

I also don’t think we’d need it.

“So we are driving, and we get to a hill,” Calvin says,
grinning, “and I start down. And Mikey says ‘You’re going too fast,’ and of
course I was.”

“What happened?”

“The axle broke on the rear left tire. Popped the tire out
about three feet. We start swerving back and forth, snow’s coming down, Mikey’s
screaming, I’m screaming. We finally crash to a stop in a snowbank on the side
of the road. The trailer’s sideways across the road, blocking traffic.

“Anyway, we’re stranded. Three unhappy horses in the back.
It’s snowing like crazy. And all Mikey can say is ‘Em’s going to be pissed.’”

I laugh. 

“So I have to walk to the next gas station up the road.
Mikey stayed with the horses. Eight miles. By the time I get there I’m soaked,
miserable, can’t feel my hands. And the first thing I do is call Mellie. She
picks up, asks why I haven’t called in hours and if I’m okay. And I say ‘yes,
I’m fine.’ And she says 
that
. She says: ‘You know how I know you’re
lying, Cal? Your mouth’s open.’”

He smiles at the memory. The smile fades. They always do.

“That was before the kids,” he says. “Before Rickie.” 

It’s a sore spot. Rickie abandoned the family, more or less,
and fell out of touch. I don’t know if Calvin took that personally (what parent
can’t?) but Emily did. She took it very personally and hadn’t seen Richard for
at least two years before she died.

“Must have been a long night,” I offer.

He shakes his head and stares at me. “When?”

“When you got stranded. How’d you get back?”

He shrugs. “Mechanic towed the trailer for us. We missed the
race. Spent two days huddled in the trailer with three miserable horses.”

I nod. I’d never heard that part of the story before. Funny
how some things get stuck in the mind and won’t let go. Things that seem
completely unimportant can become our easiest memories to recall, and some of
the most important things that happen to us pass out of existence with nary a
flicker.

A minute passes in silence.

Some kids fly up the road on skateboards. That’s something I
haven’t seen in a while. What happened to the good old days when kids were
yelled at for riding one of those? Now it’s a miracle when you can get them off
their computers or phones to go outside.

I don’t really miss being a kid. I don’t think many people
my age do, really. Don’t get me wrong, my childhood wasn’t too bad. Strange, I
suppose you could say, but not bad. My sister always made things interesting. I
don’t blame her for that. She couldn’t help it.

“Do you want to know how I would do it?”

The words hit me like a sledge hammer in the stomach. I
blink and look back over at Calvin. He’s staring at me with those rheumy eyes,
tired. “No.”

“I’ve thought about it—”

“I said ‘no,’” I reiterate firmly.

I can’t shake it. The image of him in the cemetery, flowers
in one hand and gun in the other.

“I don’t want to talk about that.”

“You think you can talk me out of it,” he says. I say
nothing. “Or maybe I’ll forget.”

Again I’m silent.

“But this is important to me.”

“You aren’t thinking about everyone. How would your children
feel losing both parents instead of just one?”

“Relieved.”

“Bullshit.”

“They should,” Calvin says. “Less to worry about. Get all of
their goodbyes out of the way at the same time.”

“Damn it, Calvin, this isn’t a game.”

His eyes turn dull. “You think I don’t know that? I
have 
no
 reason to be here.”

“You should be here for your children and grandchildren.”

“What, so they can parade me around when they feel like it?”
he asks. “Or come visit me occasionally when they remember I’m still alive? I’m
a burden. I 
hate
 being a burden.”

“Then stop thinking you are one.”

“Edward, don’t bullshit me,” Calvin says, shaking his head. “If
you’re just going to sit there and bullshit me, then you should leave now.”

I hesitate. “And if I leave?”

“I’ll start walking to the cemetery.”

“Then I’m not going anywhere.”

“So you’ll just stay here? Stay and keep me from killing
myself until I die from old age?”

“If that’s what it takes,” I say.

He snorts. “See? A burden.”

I shake my head and let out a sigh. “So I guess we’re at an
impasse.”

“I guess so,” he says, leaning back in his chair.

We stare awkwardly at each other for a minute.

Like I said, not how I was planning to spend my day off.

“Tell me about your family,” I say. “Tell me about your
kids. What was Beth like before she married Adam?”

He shrugs. “Difficult. She’s always been difficult. But a
great kid.”

“I didn’t meet your family until I was almost nine. Tell me
what it was like before you guys moved. Or before you had Bethany. What was
Ricky like as a kid?”

“Why?” he asks. “Why bother?”

“Humor me,” I say. “I’m not leaving anytime soon, so we
better find something to talk about.”

He thinks about it for a minute and then shrugs. “Suit
yourself.” He’s silent for a long minute, and then he looks me directly in the
eyes: “How much do you think parents matter?”

“You mean for a child?”

“When they become an adult,” Calvin says. “Rickie was older
than the others. We were younger. We weren’t the same parents when Bethany and
Jason grew up.”

“And you think it’s your fault that Rickie turned into an
asshole?” I ask, laughing. “No, at a certain point kids become responsible for
their own lives. They have to take responsibility for their decisions.”

Calvin thinks about that, then snorts. “But I guess that
doesn’t mean they’ll have to like their parents.”

I smile. “No, I guess not. Tell me about Rickie. What was
different with his childhood from his siblings?”

“The difference,” Calvin says, leaning back in his chair,
expression thoughtful, “is he remembers when things were bad…”