Link to Chapter 12Link to TOC13
Clark couldn’t believe it. He’d gotten to pick out not just one book, but five! Five books to read! The librarian had been so nice and told him he had two whole weeks to read the books. But he wanted to read all of them today.
If he hadn’t been so distracted by the ice cream store, he’d probably already have read at least one on the drive back to the Kents’ house. But…ice cream! It was like cookies, but better and colder. And he got sprinkles on his, and those were so good.
He stared out the window for just another few seconds until the truck turned down the dirt driveway leading up to the farmhouse. Then he looked back down at the stack of books in his lap. He couldn’t remember ever having been more excited about anything before. His thumb rested on top of his new library card, and he smiled as he read his name, which the librarian, Sue, had written neatly on the line at the top.
He could read his name. It was something he’d wanted to learn for so long but Ma and Pa had never…
A tightness in his chest forced him to close his eyes as he remembered Martha and Jonathan’s words outside the library. Had Ma and Pa really been…wrong? Had they been wrong to give him so many rules that were so impossible to follow and then…punish him when he messed up?
He sniffled quietly and then glanced at Martha, who sat just a few inches away from him in the middle of the backseat. She gave him another of her kind smiles, and he blinked and then looked back down, memories of the last few days reminding him of everything that was…different now.
The very first night he’d stayed with them, she’d told him he never had to ask to use the bathroom. They didn’t…
ever lock him in his room or in any room. There was no bucket in the corner for him to use because he was…allowed to get up and go to the bathroom when he needed it.
And he always got to eat. They fed him breakfast and lunch and dinner. Every day. And snacks. And cookies and ice cream. Gosh, the food was so, so good. They never…made him go hungry as a punishment.
And they never, never…
He held back a sob and turned to Martha, reaching for her as tears flowed down his cheeks. She immediately unstrapped him from his seat and then gathered him up in her arms, and he felt so warm and safe that he just buried his head into her shoulder and cried more.
They never, ever hurt him or yelled at him. They only ever hugged him and spoke gently to him. And they’d taught him to read and told him he was smart and wonderful and kind.
It was so different. So, so different.
He felt Martha stroking his hair, heard her murmuring to him softly.
“Shh, sweetie. You’re okay. You’re okay.”
And that. That too. Her voice was so soothing and kind and made him feel all sorts of…better.
The truck stopped and shut off, but he didn’t move from his spot in Martha’s arms. And she didn’t make him. She just continued to hold him and talk gently to him and make him feel so much like she cared.
Clark pulled back slightly and looked up at her through bleary eyes, his vision still blurry.
She smiled down at him, and he felt it again—this thing in his chest that just made him feel like he mattered to her. Like…whether he was okay mattered to her. Her hand came up to carefully brush his hair off his forehead, and then she leaned down and kissed the top of his head again.
“We’re home, sweetie, but we can stay here as long as you like. Until you’re ready to go inside,” Martha said softly.
Clark just nodded and dropped his head back to her shoulder. He wanted to read the books, and Jonathan had also mentioned that he’d love to show Clark around the barn today, if he was up to it. But right now, he just wanted to stay. Right here.
***
He woke up some time later, still in Martha’s arms, but now inside the house. Martha rocked them slowly, humming a quiet tune that Clark didn’t immediately recognize while she rubbed his back.
The light in the room was dim, and he glanced toward the window, his stomach sinking as he saw the sun was already on its way down outside.
“What’s wrong, sweetie?” Martha asked.
Shaking his head, he cuddled back up against her, letting her continue to rock him slowly. But she must have known what he was thinking—she seemed to be pretty good at that, he thought—because she slowly stopped rocking them and then sat up just a bit, bringing Clark with her.
“You wanted to go out and see the barn today, didn’t you?”
“Yes,” he said, glad that for once he didn’t stutter. That had been happening more and more now; he’d been able to talk more and more without stuttering. Although sometimes, especially when he got sad or scared, the stuttering and stammering still came back. And then he’d hear Pa’s voice, yelling at him. Angry words telling him he was stupid.
“Jonathan’s out at the barn right now. Should we go out there together and find him?”
He grinned and nodded. “Can we see Peaches?” One of the books he’d picked out at the library was about a horse, and he was really excited to see one for the first time.
“Of course! I bet we can even feed her, if Jonathan hasn’t already. She’ll love that. Eating is one of her very favorite things to do,” Martha said, and she gave him a wink.
Laughter bubbled up inside him, and he crawled off her lap as he began to giggle. “Me too, I think! Eating ice cream and—and reading!”
Martha stood up, and Clark hurried over to the front door ahead of her, eager to get going. It would be dark soon, and he didn’t want to be outside in the dark. That was scary. The dark was scary. Martha joined him a moment later, opening up the door, and he rushed out ahead of her, jumping all the way down the porch steps in one big leap. He turned and waited for her, still grinning, and then she took his hand and pointed off to their right.
“Looks like Jonathan is out at the west cornfield. Maybe checking on the cows,” Martha explained.
Clark squinted, bringing his hand up to block the sunlight. He saw the Kents’ red pickup truck parked along a fence line way off in the distance.
“Oh, okay. Do we…” He paused, looking up at her. “Do we wait for him to get back?” he asked, managing again to keep the stutter out of his voice, even as a little tickle of anxiousness began to creep back in.
Martha shook her head and squeezed Clark’s hand. “Probably better if we don’t. I have no idea how long he’ll be out.”
Clark agreed with a nod of his head, and then he followed as Martha led him out to the barn. It was a short walk, but he somehow felt energized by it, and by the time they got to the barn, he was skipping along next to Martha, still holding her hand tightly.
The barn doors were open, letting in the afternoon light, but Martha also flipped on a switch as they entered, and several light bulbs popped to life, brightening up the space more. Clark stopped in the doorway, his eyes wide.
This was new and different too. The smells were…strong, and there was a big animal—a horse—in a stall to his left and several chickens pecking around on the ground ahead of them. A hay loft was filled with bright yellow bales of straw, stacked in neat rows up above. Tools lined the walls, and a long workbench took up half of one of the long sides.
“Wow!”
His eyes drifted to the horse. She was
huge and the same color as the straw up in the hayloft. She had a thick mane that fell down below the bottom of her neck and long whiskers on her muzzle. He took a small step toward her.
“Is that Peaches?”
“It sure is.” Jonathan’s voice came from behind them, and Clark spun around and grinned, then launched himself toward Jonathan. He grabbed Jonathan’s hand and dragged him over toward the horse, excitement just bursting all around him.
“She’s big and so pretty and yellow! Can I pet her? Please?”
“Haha, yes, buddy, of course. But, I need to tell you something first because there are some rules about horses, okay?”
Clark stopped bouncing, now only a few feet from the horse’s stall, and a strange wave of…icky seemed to well up inside him. Rules wasn’t a bad word, he reminded himself. Still, his bottom lip trembled a little as he faced Jonathan and nodded. Martha stepped up beside them, and even though she didn’t say anything, her soft smile made him feel just a little less icky.
“It’s nothing bad, buddy, I promise. Just here, look. How big do you think Peaches is?” Jonathan tilted his head toward the horse, who stood in her stall with her head hanging over the half-door.
“She’s…really, really big,” Clark said quietly, his eyes darting from Jonathan to the horse and back. She wasn’t as tall as Jonathan at her shoulders, but she was still much, much bigger than Clark.
“Exactly,” Martha said. “Horses are really, really big animals.”
“Now, old Peaches here is just about as safe as they come. But she’s still a horse, and horses can be unpredictable. If they accidentally step on you or bump into you, you can get hurt without them even meaning to hurt you.”
“So,” Martha continued, “we just have a few things we always do when we’re around horses to be sure that we stay as safe as possible. A few rules.”
Clark straightened up, understanding now. “These rules help us stay safe.”
“Yep, buddy, that’s all.”
Nodding, he looked back at the horse. She was…really big. He took a step back.
Jonathan laughed lightly and reached out to pat the horse on the head. She didn’t move except to blow out a long breath.
“Peaches is what’s called a Quarter Horse. That’s just the type of horse she is. And besides being really big, you know what she is? She’s also really, really old and really, really gentle.”
Clark nodded again, and Martha took his hand and led him closer to the horse as he listened to Jonathan continue.
“One rule is that we always want to let the horse know we’re here so we don’t startle them.”
“Startle?” Clark asked, shifting his attention to Jonathan.
“Scare. Horses can get scared really easily. So, we should always talk to them when we come up, so they know we’re here. Do you think you can do that?”
“Y-yes,” Clark said quietly. “But…”
“It doesn’t matter what you say,” Martha explained, squeezing Clark’s hand. “You can tell them that the weather is warm and sunny or that you went to the library today. Or you can just say hi or good morning or good afternoon.”
“Just so they know you’re there.” Jonathan motioned for Clark to step up closer.
He let go of Martha’s hand as he moved up to the horse’s stall. “Hi, Peaches. My n-name is Clark.” She seemed even bigger the closer he got, and he swallowed nervously. “Wh-what are the other—the other r-rules?” he asked.
“Be gentle is one. Horses are kind when you’re kind to them. Especially Peaches.”
Clark nodded. He could do that too.
Jonathan picked him up then, settling Clark on his hip. “Here, she likes when you pet her forehead, right here, or her neck.”
Tentatively, Clark reached out and placed his hand in the middle of the horse’s forehead, where she had a fleck of white hairs forming a diamond shape smaller than the size of his palm. He held his breath as he let his hand stroke slowly down her face, and then he lifted his hand and pet her again. He grinned and looked up at Jonathan.
“She’s so soft,” he murmured. And he kept petting her, watching as her eyes closed lightly. His hand stilled on her forehead. “Is she sleeping?” he whispered.
“She’s just resting. But you know what that says?”
Clark pursed his lips and thought really hard, and then his eyes lit up and he smiled again. Keeping his voice low, he said, “She feels safe with me here. I didn’t scare her.”
“Exactly, buddy. Exactly.”
Comments
