Compromise
THE EXPERIENCE OF ASSISTING visually impaired kids to ride horses would stay with me forever.
Once the kids were up on their horses using a special ramp, the looks on their faces seared into my memory. Sure, they were scared at first, to be that high up off of the ground on an unfamiliar and huge animal. Then, the looks turned to unadulterated terror once the horses started walking. A horse has a sway to its gait that you have to get used to. If you were blind, your body was often hunched over, since you relied on canes, guide animals, or caregivers to get around. But on a horse, sitting up engaged other muscles and other senses, which was so healthy. The wranglers held the ropes and guided each horse and rider slowly around the corral. And after a while, the faces of the children turned to delight.
They were riding horses, actually doing it. So powerful.
After, they described to me the sensations they felt—the scent of the barnyard, the sounds of the horses, the rough feel of the hide of their horse, the lumbering motion of the walk. They also talked about how they felt about riding, from fear to joy. We made a recording of their voices so that they could replay it and remember what they felt when they returned home.
Once we were done, every single one of them wanted to do it again and again.
So they went riding a lot.
Speaking of riding, Will was away from the compound this week, I guess taking care of things around the ranch. But he made a point to walk over to the corral on one afternoon and talk with the kids. He gave them individual attention. But he sure looked over at me often.
When he met Clarissa, of course she wanted to "sing" his hair, so he bent down, all six and a half feet of him and let the little seventeen-year-old touch his curly, brown hair.
I wanted to to do that.
She sang a sweet, middle note, and said that his hair sounded "True, passionate, and kind."
Interesting. It was sort of like an astrology reading by hair.
I really only saw Will this week at meal times, when we both had trouble keeping our hands under control. The flirting with him was now a combination of completely under wraps and blatantly obvious. At least I hoped it wasn't obvious. When I got up to refill the water pitcher, for instance, I made it a point to graze his crotch as I got up. He did the same, reaching across my boobs to grab the salt and pepper, and resting his arm just a second too long. And then looking at me, giving me an almost imperceptible eyebrow raise and smirk. And so it went on, in public, playing this game of who can touch the other one the most, without letting anyone else know it.
On Thursday, it happened.
"What's that noise?" asked Clarissa suddenly, her sunglasses on, blonde braids whipping around to turn her ear toward some scrubby bushes growing at the far end of the corral. I walked over to investigate and, holy shit, there was a full-sized rattlesnake right there. Not only could I see the snake, stretched out across the dirt, but also I could hear the rattle. About all that I knew about rattlesnakes came from cartoons, but I figured that just because it wasn't coiled up and ready to strike didn't mean that we should stick around and meet it.
"We're going to get out of here and go inside and I'll get someone to take care of it," I said, more calmly and confidently than I felt. "I think it's a rattlesnake." I also had no idea what I meant by "take care of it," not remembering the protocol I’d read previously, but I had no choice. I couldn't have anyone, let alone a blind child, get hurt.
Just then, Will's truck pulled into the compound.
"There's a rattlesnake in the bushes by the corral," I burst out, and I pointed to where I saw it.
He nodded, said, "I'll handle it," and ran to one of the barns. The caretakers gathered the kids and walked them to safety. Will came back, holding a shovel, with a ranch hand holding a bucket, and Janine holding a rake. My heart clenched. I didn't want them to kill the rattlesnake. It hadn't done anything wrong. But rattlesnake venom could be fatal. This was the part where wanting to save all of the animals in the world was really difficult. I didn't eat animal products, wear any leather, or do anything that would involve animal testing. But here, on the ranch, there was just no avoiding wildlife, and as much as I hated, absolutely fucking hated, what they were going to do—or at least what I thought they were going to do—I couldn't, and wouldn't, stop it. But I also couldn’t let them do it either.
When I got near the corral, Will's head whipped around and he yelled, "Get away, Marie. Go in the tack house."
"No," I yelled back. "I want to know what you’re doing to it."
He looked at me, anger flashing on his face, mixed with something else. Concern? "Stay away, it's dangerous. Right now we have it under control. I'll come talk to you in the tack house when we're done."
I felt so torn. “No.”
I followed him. I knew that some people would say that it's just a snake, but to me, it was important. I didn't want to be responsible for killing any animal, even one that was not cuddly and cute. I didn't even buy tequila with worms in it.
Will turned, deadly serious, and spoke, looking me right in the eyes, and while it was authoritative, he also said it with kindness. “Get in the tack house, Marie. Don’t distract us.”
Okay, fine. I went in and sat on a sawhorse, pissed, scared, and hurt.
After about ten minutes, Will walked in the tack house, and came right over to me, standing over me, panting. He paused and looked down at me sitting. "You're upset."
"Yeah, Captain obvious.”
"Can't have rattlers around here. Not with the Headlands Program. Had to kill it," he said firmly.
I knew he was right, but I didn't like it. "You couldn't have taken it to another part of the ranch?"
He looked at me, his tone kind even if his words weren't. "I'm not driving around with a rattlesnake in my truck. Can't take them somewhere else on the ranch ‘cause they might come back. It’s too far for animal control to come."
I sighed and kicked at the floor. "I know you think I'm crazy, all sad about the life of one snake, but that's just how I'm made."
He smiled and shuffled his feet. "I know. That's part of the reason why I think I like you."
That made my pulse run. Hearing it come out of his mouth was different than me guessing about it. "You think you like me?" I stuttered out.
He gave me his half smile. "The part that cares about everyone and everything? Yeah."
Oh great gobs of gooey goodness. Will Thrash likes me. I felt like I was in seventh grade and he had just asked me to a chaperoned dance. But I was still upset. "Will you tell me what you did to it?"
He looked at me, probing and serious, and reached a finger under my chin. "Do you really want to know?"
I nodded.
He spoke in his slow drawl, gently and clinically. "Janine pinned its head with the rake while I sliced it off with the shovel. We put it in the bucket and buried it out back."
To me, that sounded gruesome, but I suppose it could have been worse. I shuddered.
"That upset you more," he said, still standing over me.
"Yeah." I went to get up, but he put his hand on my shoulder, gently, pushing me down. He gave me a sexy chin lift and narrowed his eyes.
"Stay here for a minute." He left the tack house and after a moment, came back in, carrying something.
"Bought you a present.” Really? I was surprised and touched. He'd been away all day. It was heartwarming to think that he'd thought of me.
"What is it?" I asked, eager to find out what he'd buy me, and feeling a greater thrill than I’d admit out loud.
He handed me the white paper sack and I opened it up. Candy?
"It's from Robitaille's in Carpinteria. It's candy, so I figured you could eat it—no animals in it. I asked and they said these had no milk or butter or anything."
My mouth opened at such a thoughtful gift and I tilted my head to the side. "That was nice of you."
He gave me a wicked look. "Not really. They were the official candy maker of Reagan's second inauguration."
I couldn't help but laugh. Of course he gave me Republican vegan candy.
I raised an eyebrow. "A compromise, Mr. Thrash? I didn't know you had it in you."
He looked for a moment like he was battling with himself to say something, but didn't. He blinked and he pressed his mouth together. Then he stood up, looked down at me, said, "See you later," and walked away. But I heard him mutter, "I know what I want in you."
Dirty motherfucker. I smiled.
The candy was delicious, though I still felt bad for the snake.