“Little is the operative word,” Gus said. “Showed up out of nowhere. He wasn’t so much weird as he was slow.”
“He was dumber than a bucket of hair,” I said. “Still, I can’t imagine his doing such a thing. Hell, I can’t imagine anybody doing it.”
“We put up with people like that all the time.” Robert’s tone was only slightly strident.
“I’m sorry,” I said.
Then it was as if Robert realized for the first time or again that Gus and I were black. He fell back into himself.
“Don’t worry about it, Robert,” I said. “Nobody’s got the hate market cornered in this country.”
“Yeah,” said Gus. “There’s plenty of hate for everybody. Rally round the flag, boys.”
Robert smiled weakly, then turned his attention to a down-filled parka with purple pockets.
“Now that will keep you warm,” I said.
“It had better,” Gus sneered. “As ugly as that thing is.”
I walked to the window and peered out. Just as I had predicted, counter to my prediction the wind was really blowing and the snow was really falling. “It’s an official mess out there,” I said. “I hope you boys don’t mind staying the night. I’d rather not risk your lives and mine on that road in this storm in the dark.”
Robert gave David an uneasy look, but David didn’t notice or simply didn’t respond.
David said, “That’s fine.” When David did look at Robert, Robert looked away. “Robert?”
“Sounds okay. Thanks, John.”
“You bet.”
While Gus prepared the meal, I took David and Robert, in their new coats, out to see the barns and horses. We wandered through the long barn and out the other end. The friendly horses shoved their heads out into the alley, looking for treats or just a rub on the nose.
“How many do you have?” David asked.
“Twenty-five,” I said. “A nice even odd number. But they’re not all mine. Several I’m training for other people. When winter comes, I’ll take the shoes off most of my guys and turn them out.”
“When winter comes?” Robert laughed.
“Son, this ain’t winter,” I said in my cowboy voice. “This here is sun-bathing weather.”
“This must be a lot of work,” David said. We were in the small barn now. The wind was spinning the vents above us.
“Nobody ever drowned in his own sweat,” I said. I led them to the end of the middle barn. “And this is Felony.” The horse pushed out his head. I was a little surprised by it. I stroked his nose. “He belongs to a neighbor.”
“Felon?” David asked.
“Felony,” I said. “Which of course is a much nicer name than Felon. The man’s daughter named him. He’s been a bit of a problem for them. He’s a looker though. And he’s coming along.”
“That’s what you do, train horses?” Robert asked.
There was a coolness between Robert and me that I didn’t like. But also, I didn’t much care, so I let it stand. “Now and again,” I said.
“What’s Felony’s problem?” David asked. He reached out and rubbed the horse’s nose.
“Basically, he’s a nut. It’s not so much that he thinks he’s a person as he doesn’t know that people aren’t horses. That’s a bad thing. Like I said, he’s making progress. Or I’m making progress, I should say.”
“You and Gus take care of this whole place?” David asked.
“Mostly. I hire a hand from time to time. They come and go. How’d you like a job?”
Robert laughed.
“I’m afraid you wouldn’t want me,” David said. “I don’t know how to do anything.”
“You can learn,” I said. “Are you boys cold?”
“I’m fine,” David said.
“Well, I’m cold,” I said. “Let’s get inside and grab some grub. How’s that for authentic regional yak?”
In the kitchen, Gus had the table set. I could smell the chili. Zoe was in the corner lying on her bed, curled around the coyote pup. The pup pushed and whined, trying to get purchase on one of Zoe’s dry teats.
“I see you moved our little patient,” I said, stomping my boots clean in the mud room.
“More light in here,” Gus said. He looked out the window over the sink. “The snow’s not going to be all that bad. It’s tapering off a little already.”
“All I know is it’s cold out there,” I said.
Gus turned to David and Robert who were sitting at the table. “The coldest I’ve ever been was thirty-three in Phoenix. Not even a freeze and I thought I might cry, I was so cold.” He pulled a ladle from the drawer and dropped it in the pot. “Come and sit down, ugly.” This was to me.
“That coyote is really cute,” David said as I sat.
“She’s something, all right.”
“How did you find her?” David watched Zoe with the pup.
“Some idiot torched her den and killed her mother,” I said. “Her little brother didn’t make it.”
“Beautiful people,” Robert said.
I nodded.
Robert put his hand on top of David’s on the table.
“I didn’t make the chili super hot,” Gus said. “I didn’t want to hurt anyone. There’s Tabasco if anyone needs it.”
“It smells great,” David said.
“Gus can actually cook,” I said.
“What do you mean by that?” Gus said.
“Well, to look at you, one wouldn’t, well, never mind.”
“You’re lucky you’re getting to eat at all,” the old man said. Gus didn’t take chili, but filled his bowl with salad.
“Aren’t you having any chili?” David asked.
“Stuff gives me heartburn,” Gus said.
“Since when?” I asked.
“Everybody eat up,” he said. “I’m happy with leaves and bread. The bread’s not great. I’m still working on that.”
We ate for a while in silence. I tore off a piece of the crusty bread and studied the sleeping puppy. “You know, Gus, I think you’re right. That little girl is going to pull through.”
“Tough,” Gus said.
“Did you want to call either of your parents?” I asked David.
“Certainly not my father,” he said. “My mother’s away on business.”
“These things happen,” Gus said. “People live, people die, people split up, people stay together and make each other miserable. Me, I’ve got ugly and he gets to live with me.”
Robert laughed.
“Your mother’s a special person,” I said to David.
“Not special enough, I guess,” David said. He poked at his chili with his spoon. “Why does my father hate me? He hates homosexuals. I’m a homosexual. It follows that he hates me. That’s logic, right?”
I didn’t say anything.
“I think the leg is going to fall off,” Gus said.
“What are you talking about?” I asked.
“The coyote. I was looking at it and I think it has to fall off. Do you think we should cut it off?”
“Maybe, but not in the middle of a meal,” I said.
“I didn’t mean right now.”
“All right, let’s take a look at it later tonight. We might have to perform a little surgery.”
We ate for a while.
“So, your being a homosexual’s not a problem for your mother?” Gus asked, slapping butter on his bread. Gus had a way of cutting right to the chase.
“She’s cool with it,” David said.
“She says,” Robert added.
“I believe she is.” David put down his fork. “She’s got her own stuff right now. Do you know why they broke up?”
I shook my head. “All of this is brand new to me.”
“Well, I don’t know either. I don’t think my mother knows. That’s what’s so hard about all of this.”
“Sounds hard,” I said. I put down my fork and wiped my mouth. “Well, now that I’ve eaten, I think I’ll go out and shovel the shit of large animals.” I snapped my fingers for Zoe to come.