Trick Pony

Chet brought Duke by to visit Oscar.

“Hello sir.”

“Hi.” Oscar squeezed out. The medicine he was on impaired his ability to focus. He could barely hold his eyes open.

“Sheriff here told me what you said ‘bout me and I wanted to thank you.”

“What’d,” Oscar had to think hard about what he was going to say. “Did they decide?”

“I can’t go back to school. They kicked me out. I will have to get my G.E.D. I’m under house arrest until the hearing. Because of all the nice things you said, the county attorney is gonna try to get me parole and community service. Sheriff tells me that if I screw up next time I’m gonna go under the jail.”

“Duke,” was all Oscar got out before the medicine pulled him back under.

When he woke again, Esther and Chet were talking. Her smile was blurry.

“Hello.”

“Hi.” She leaned over and kissed him on the forehead. “The doctor says when you get up and walk around he will let you go home.”

He smiled a weak smile.

Oscar was sitting on the couch staring out the window at his beloved snow. Not even it could lift his spirits. His side stung. He wasn’t able to get Duke out of this mess. The relationship with his family was clearly over. Good, bad, hurtful, necessary all at the same time.

“Hot chocolate for your thoughts,” Esther handed him a cup of hot chocolate.

“I thought all the men that you knew that enjoyed hot chocolate were gay?” He teased.

“I know this amazing man; love him actually, that enjoys a good cup of hot chocolate.”

He smiled, “just reflecting on past events.”

“I’m sorry honey.”

He inhaled deeply at the contents of the cup. Too deeply, he closed his eyes concealing the sharp pain he had created. “What’s next?”

“For you to get well so I can shag you rotten.”

He got chocked, “really?”

“You know it.” She giggled. “There are so many things I want to do to you.”

“Like teach me a new way to eat oatmeal.”

She winked.

“When would you like to put the Christmas tree up?”

“Whenever you feel up to it?”

“You never did tell me why your nickname is trick pony.”

She blushed, “when I was a student at EKU, there was a local criminal everyone called Pony. The town rumor was that he had relations with a pony, hence the nickname. I was at the station when a domestic call came in. It was Pony. He barricaded himself in the house with a female and her 3 children. Two officers had already gotten shot by the time we got there. No one wanted to shoot inside the home. I talked the officer in charge into letting me try to talk to this fellow. No one liked the idea. But in the end, I did. I was an unarmed female. He thought it was hilarious that all these big brave cops sent a child (in his opinion) into the fire. He allowed me to approach the house. I sat under the window where he was, listening to his drunk rant for hours. All he wanted was for someone to listen to him. He went about it in the wrong way. But that’s what it all boiled down to. I kept his attention while the family was snuck out of the house. And he was arrested.

“Everyone started calling me Trick Pony because they said, ‘I tricked him’. I kept his attention focused on me and the conversation so they could do their jobs.” She sipped at her hot chocolate. He gave her a sheepish grin. “You think I’m making that up.” She playfully threw a marshmallow at him.

He shrugged, laughed and trying as best he could to dodge it. “You are something else.”

“I told you to stick with me, I’d change your life.” She winked.

Winter Season

Angry family

Friday evening Esther drove Oscar to the school board meeting. It was his intent to plead with the full board not to have Duke charged but to give him community service. He had already talked with the superintendent and several of the board members but had to take it to the full board.

He was still very sore but was doing better. He knew it would be a hard sell because the superintendent was irate about the matter.

On the steps to the school board building Oscar saw his nephew Larry. He sat down beside the small boy who looked like he had lost his best friend. “What are you doin’ here kiddo?”

He pushed a clump of mud around with his shoe. “I’s got in tro-ble in schoo.”

“How come?”

“Dis fuck calls me a tard so I calls him a fat fuck. He try to hit me. Him fat. Slow. I kick him in the balls. Fat fuck.” The little boy continued pushing around the clump of mud.

“What are you gonna do?”

“Maw says I got to pol-a-gize to fat fuck so they let me come back.”

“Doesn’t sound to me like you’re sorry.”

He jumped to his feet. “Why he call me tard? Dat not nice.”

“No, it’s not.” Oscar looked down at Larry’s feet. He was wearing a child size pair of cowboy boots. The once silver point guard was caked with mud. “Were you wearing those boots when you kicked the other boy?”

Larry grinned as he looked down at his feet. “Ball busters Dor say.”

“I know being called a name hurt your feelings. And it wasn’t nice. Those boots could have done some real damage to the other boy.”

Oscar could tell Larry was thinking. If he started to say something different, he stopped himself. Finally he blurted out, “vhat you do here?”

“It’s a long story.”

“Were yous whore?”

Oscar was in shock. “What?”

“Maw calls lady from Santa’s day whore. Wur she at?”

“Well Larry, first of all she’s not a whore and second who’s with you?”

“Piece of shit drive off on own. Dor run ater it. Maw gotta piss.”

About that time, the loud bang from a vehicle backfiring pulled Oscar’s attention to Doris droving Oat’s beat up old truck toward the building.

“Oh.” Oscar mindlessly voiced. He knew now why he didn’t have contact with his family. They were a hot mess. He didn’t mind the old truck. Old clothes. He grew up in the same environment. What his family had evolved into was beyond his ability to comprehend.

Esther was walking up the side walk talking to a uniformed state trooper he didn’t recognize.

In anticipation of her arrival, he stepped down to the bottom step to walk in with her. A shout startled him and he turned to see Priscilla as she hit him in the side. Had she been hiding in the bushes? “You da reason my mans a criminal now!” She hit Oscar where the tray had sliced him. “Fucker!”

He screamed falling to his knees. It was too late to protect himself. He could feel the blood running down his side. She got in three good licks before Esther and her friend could reach him. Chet came running out of the building as did Pam.

“Why Pussy do dat?” Larry asked as Pam hugged him up.

She glanced back at Oscar, “asshole. You get what you deserve.”

Chet put Priscilla in cuffs, read her her rights as he put her in a cruiser; bringing Esther his first aid kit.

Esther pulled up Oscar’s shirt. Not only had Priscilla reopened the wound, she had made it bigger.

“What?” Esther asked, “Was her purse full of rocks?”

Her state trooper friend opened the purse. “Yes.” At some point, she had emptied her purse and filled it full of gravel.

The sound of breaking glass startled everyone, Pricilla had managed to kick the bars over the back window loose, using them to bust out the back window. Still screaming profanity.

“Oscar,” she called his name. “Talk to me.”

“Ess,” he hissed.

“Chet called an ambulance. Just hang in there, okay.”

Winter Season

Happy Anniversary

Sunday morning Oscar was up long before Esther. The smell of breakfast wafted through the house. She smiled as he walked into the bedroom.

“Good mornin’ handsome.”

“Good mornin’ beautiful. Breakfast is served.” He stretched out his arms to help her out of bed. “I have a favor to ask.”

“Sure.”

“Close your eyes.”

She smiled, “okay.”

He led her out of the bedroom, into the kitchen. “Okay, you can open your eyes now.”  

The table was set for two and in the center of the table was a huge bouquet of flowers.

“Sweetheart, they are beautiful. What is the occasion?”

“What is today?” He asked as he pulled out her chair.

She gasped, “Dec. 1st. It is the day that I moved here.”

“Today makes one year since you entered my life.”

She giggled, “I told you to stick with me that I would change your life.”

“And you have.” He smiled.

Winter Season

Over did it

Esther thought she was dreaming. In her dream, there was total darkness and from somewhere in the far reaches of the darkness she heard moaning; soft frequent moaning. With each moan. a typewriter formed out of the darkness and chased her. When the moan stopped, the typewriter disappeared. It took, what seemed like forever for the moaning to become clear. It wasn’t a dream. It was Oscar moaning in her ear. The typewriter was a part of some dream. Somewhere.

She rolled over to face him. As she caressed his face, she could tell he wasn’t running a fever. So it must have been the discomfort from his injury. His moan turned into a whimper while she was tracing the outline of his face. Then stopped.

He had asked her a while back if he couldn’t fill her life? Why he wasn’t enough? Women all over the world were house wives. But she had been working since she was ten and didn’t think it was in her to be a housewife. Maybe it was the new role God wanted her to play. It was painfully obvious that she wasn’t getting a job anytime soon. And it wasn’t from lack of trying. Unless she wanted to drive an hour one way, she wasn’t getting a job in this little town. With the price of gas the way it was, a commute that long was out of the question. It would cost her more to have a job than the job would provide. The writing idea was intriguing.

She did love him. That was for sure. Getting married in less than a year of knowing the man was a leap of faith on her part. Some folks might even call her stupid. Her Gram always told her that God worked in mysterious ways. Boy howdy did he ever. One year ago, her life was a mess. Now, she was living in a painfully small town and married. Who would’ve thought?

It was her habit to get up before Oscar so that she could have breakfast ready. Even before they were married. He had never used an alarm clock that she had noticed, even though he had one on his night stand. At 5:00a.m., he always strolled into the kitchen, even if still in his p.j.’s. This morning, he didn’t. It was 5:30 a.m. and he still wasn’t in the kitchen.

She found him in the bedroom, standing up against the wall. “Why didn’t you call for me?” He just shook his head. “How can I help you?”

“I can’t do it.”

She kissed him on the cheek, “you don’t have to do anything. Where do you need to go?”

He rubbed his fingers through his hair, “bathroom.” He took one step on his right leg, crying out in pain as his leg buckled under him.

She caught him. He just knew any minute now that he was going to throw up.  She did the best she could to help him. With her assistance, he limped to the bathroom, then back to bed. Dr. Bob hadn’t given him any pain medication so Advil was the best it got. He was fast asleep in no time.

She had no idea if she should call the school and tell them that he wasn’t coming; or if she would be crossing some kind of invisible line.  So, she didn’t. It struck her as kinda odd that the school never did call him. If they did, she must have been out of ear shot because she never heard his phone.

Around 11 o’clock Chet came by. “Hi, come in.” Esther smiled as she opened the door.

“How’s our boy today?”

“I think he overdid it yesterday, he’s very sore.”

“Would you like something to drink?”

“No, I just stopped by to check on him.” Chet stopped in the door as he was leaving.

“Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.” She smiled.

Winter Season