I close my eyes and take a deep breath, but when I open them, it’s still fucking there. Somehow having appeared in the span of the five minutes I had just spent walking the mustang out to his paddock for the morning.
Rather than go right for the parcel, I first look over my shoulder, then peer up and down the aisle around the corner of the stall, expecting to see the only person who could be the owner of the abandoned fabric lurking in the darkened corners, as he is so very fond of doing. When he remains suspiciously absent, I direct my inquiry to the next best thing.
“I know that’s his. And so are you,” I say, pointing an accusatory finger at the black horse in the next stall, who is once again hanging his head over the wall to keep an eye on everything I’m doing and appearing decidedly morose now that I’ve led his reluctant companion away for a little while. “Ofcourseyou’re his. Neither of you know how to keep a boundary, andclearly, he knows where I’m staying.Christ, he probably has that boy spyin—”
“You need something, mister?” calls a small voice from down the aisle. “Them knots giving you problems again?”
“No,” I shout back but hear his footsteps coming closer anyway. Without thinking, I reach down, grab the small parcel, and shove it in my coat pocket right as the boy pops up at the stall door.
“You sure you’re okay? Thought I heard you talkin’ to somebody.”
“No. I was just…” I drag a hand down my face, preparing to ask a question that I’m not completely certain I want to hear the answer to. “You can be honest with me, all right? You’re not in trouble. And you won’t be if you tell me the truth.”
The boy considers me for a moment, debating if I’mtrustworthy before he eventually nods, and I continue, pointing once more at the black horse, “You took him out yesterday. Are you also the one who put him in that stall?”
He nods.
“Someone ask you to?”
Nod.
“A man?”
Nod.
“Wears a lot of black?”
Another nod.
“Fuck’s sake.” The boy’s eyes widen. “Sorry.” I grit my teeth, taking another steadying breath before I ask, “Did he tell youwhyhe wanted him in that stall?”
The boy nods one more time, but seems to realize after a beat of silence that I’d like more of an answer. “He said that it’d be more, uh…what’s the word he used? Oh,covenant?”
I stare at him. “Covenant? Orconvenient?”
“Yeah, that’s the one. Convenient.”
I exhale. “He also tell you which paddock to put him in?”
“Yes, sir. The one next to whichever one you put your horse in.” He scrunches his face in thought. “Say, what’s that word mean?Convenient?”
“In this case?”
One more nod.
“A fuckin’ problem.”
“Oh.” He frowns. “How come you say that? Isn’t he a pal of yours?”
“No,” I tell him, trying to keep the frustration out of my voice. “Did he tell you he was?”
“Guess not. I just figured since he wanted to be by you…” The boy frowns again. “There’s this girl at my school named Sally, and I really like to be by her. But sheismy friend. She’s real smart. And pretty.” He leans against the stall door, folding hisarms. “Sometimes she makes me kinda nervous. But like in a nice way. You know how I mean?”
“No,” I repeat without spending much time considering if Idoknow what he means. Can’t say I do, but then, I’m not very good at talkin’ to children. Didn’t spend enough time being one, maybe.
“What else did he say?” I ask, attempting to quickly move us on from this change of topic. “Was there more than where he wants you to keep his horse?”
“Nothin’ else,” the boy says.