8 - Spooked

Someone is out there, 1985

Things That Can’t Be Broken is a novel presented as a live draft, one chapter every week.

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Part 1 | History is an Angel

8 - Spooked

Unsplash Photo Credit: Christine Benton

Maeve Allen

April 15, 1985

Dehesa Valley, California

When Maeve saw Feathers’ ears swivel toward the south hill, eyes wide, she looked up too. From where she stood in the center of the arena, she thought she saw someone jump from a boulder and disappear behind it. At the same time, Feathers leapt sideways and spun faster than she’d ever seen the mare move before. She would have jumped right into Maeve’s lap like a frightened child if she could have. Her rider, Wendy, went straight to the dirt, sending up a cloud of dust.

Todd shouted, “Everyone okay?” From outside the arena where he and Barb were working on a sprinkler line. Barb ducked under the rail and ran to grab the mare’s reins.

Maeve went to Wendy. Nothing at odd angles. Helmet still on. She helped her to stand. “I think we’re fine!” she shouted.

Wendy was shaken. She was one of their most timid riders, which was why she was riding reliable Feathers. But even Feathers was susceptible to instincts—a boy jumping from a boulder above her could have been a mountain lion. Wendy complained that her elbow hurt, but after a few moments, she seemed to work through it and the afternoon’s riding lesson continued.

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That evening, as Todd brought his plate of spaghetti to the table, followed closely by two sets of hopeful brown eyes, he asked Maeve, “Was Wendy badly hurt today?”

He snapped his fingers and pointed to the dog beds in the corner where Ginger and Merrylegs obediently slunk away. Maeve handed him a fork and sat down. “No, just a little dramatic.”

“Och, I saw her arm in a sling.”

“I think she liked the extra attention she was getting,” said Maeve. “Wendy will be back tomorrow. . . And we can expect a chocolate cake.”

Todd patted his belly, “I look forward to that. Yer chocolate cake tradition is havoc on the waistline. Thank God they fall so rarely.” He rattled the ice in his glass. “Do ye ken what it was that set Feathers off? I can’ae recall seeing her jump like that.”

“I thought I saw someone drop behind a boulder up there by the Vasquez property, but I only got a glance,” said Maeve.

“Hmm,” Todd picked up a green can from the table and shook some powdered cheese onto his pasta. “Al’s dog was loose yesterday. Likely, he was repairing a fence.”

“I don’t think it was Al.” said Maeve, “It’s hard to imagine him jumping off boulders.”

Todd laughed, “Could be someone working for Al?”

“Could be,” said Maeve, “This guy was small and thin, probably just a boy. And I’m certain he was wearing a cowboy hat.”

The space between their property and the Vasquez property was a county fire break with access to the wildlife preserve. Anyone could walk the trail past the fire break to the highway without trespassing on private property. She couldn’t allay a prickle of anxiety at the back of her mind that someone might be watching them from up there.

“Any messages on the machine when you came in?” Todd asked, apparently done with the boulder jumping incident.

He was actually asking if Grace had called. “Only one message, from Genny,” she said.

Todd was visibly disappointed. He missed his twin sister more than anyone they left behind in Scotland. But Grace was a fly-by-the-seat-of-her-pants wild spirit. Even when her band wasn’t touring, she was most often adrift in her own world. Back when they lived in Edinburgh, they could count on her showing up at some odd hour. She would stay for a night or a week, and they would all catch up, but that didn’t work from afar.

“Nae a word from Grace in almost three weeks,” said Todd, thoughtfully twirling a forkful of spaghetti. “I’ll give Ma a call this weekend. She’ll be by there soon, no doot.”

“She loses track of time, my love,” said Maeve.

“Aye.” He said, pausing to stare out at the hills, “What did Genny have to say?”

“She handed the essay flyers out to her eighth-grade classes.” Maeve set her plate aside and crossed her arms. “If money were not an issue, I’d say we should take on four new students for the fall. I know we could handle it. We’ll have some good juniors coming back as seniors next year who could take up the slack, too. But I think we should limit it to two this year.”

“Och. I agree. Money is tight.” Todd took a long sip of water. “I heard from your cousin, Veronica, by the way. She still wants us to take on Vera next fall.”

Maeve sighed. “We knew it was coming. You told her we would take her as a student?”

“Aye. She is family.”

“Of course. We have to give her a chance. But, as I told Veronica before, the same rules will apply for Vera as for any of the other students.”

“She agreed, did she not? Do’na fash. She wants to see her daughter succeed.”

Maeve smiled into his eyes. “I’ll do my best not to fash.” She kissed his cheek and picked up their dishes. Ginger and Merrylegs rattled their tags with a hearty ear shake and followed her to the sink, tails wagging.

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Tuesday, Todd was out running errands and picking up parts for his latest project, fixing up an old Pontiac of all things. It was gifted to him by a parent, riddled with rust and barely running. Todd loved to tinker with gadgets and motors when he wasn’t busy with the program and ranch upkeep. He planned to restore the old car to its original 1968 glory.

She hoped he would remember to pick up a bag of alfa-mo. She wanted the sweet blend of alfalfa and molasses for Quinn, their newest equine adoptee. It would give him a little more pep and he could stand to gain some weight. But it was also nice to have around for horse treats. It smelled wonderful.

Thoughts of alfa-mo caused her to sweep in a deep sniff. The air was fragrant this time of year, with the scents of eucalyptus, sage, fresh grass, and wildflowers wicked into the air by the warm sun. Maeve opened the back gate. No harm in a walk. There were hours before she would need to prepare for the afternoon’s students.

She was curious if she would see evidence of the man or boy who had spooked Feathers and unseated Wendy the day before. She didn’t really expect to find anything, but she couldn’t keep herself from looking. The grass outside the fence had grown high after the rainy season and was just beginning to brown. No grass appeared newly laid down anywhere near the fence. She studied the ground beside the boulders where she had seen him jump down. It wasn’t as steep of a jump as she had thought; smaller boulders were stepped behind the larger one she saw from the arena. It was nearly impossible to find footprints in the decomposed granite, especially as it was, hardened by recent rain. Nothing said anything to her, but then, she was not a trained tracker.

Most of the occasional people passing by were hikers going to and from the preserve, and migrant workers on their way to nearby farms and landscaping jobs. She didn’t give it much thought until now. People being people, the majority were good, or at least minding their own business. There could be potential for danger anywhere. But she was not blind to the fact that her students might be vulnerable. She thought to bring their awareness up, carefully, in a way that would not cause them undue anxiety.

Maeve wondered if any of her neighbors worried about strangers passing their property. Aside from Todd being there, they had Ginger and Merrylegs, their two sweet labs. They usually barked when they saw strangers, at least until the strangers complied and petted them. She made her way around the perimeter of their property and stood in the graveled drive for a moment admiring the green lettering that arched above the front gate, “Allen Haven Ranch”. She sighed a prayer of gratitude for the life they were living, that it might continue for many years.

In just over a month, their first four students would graduate and go out into the world—so much to be proud of. Jan was headed in a veterinary direction with a scholarship to UC Davis. Anthony was undecided, but his grades could take him anywhere. He reminded her of her oldest brother and she thought to give him an extra push toward studying law. Cindy would stay local for now and attend community college, though Maeve wouldn’t be surprised if she followed her love of film north. God but she prayed she would not lose herself in the Hollywood scene. And Nancy was already setting up with an apprenticeship to train Morgan horses. Nothing would stop that girl.

The sun came glinting through the pepper tree’s weeping boughs and strings of pink at the fork of the road outside the front gate. Beyond the fork that lead to the Wilson property sagged an abandoned wooden building. It was far too small to be considered a home to anyone living in this century. The wood was rotten and gray, but it had been built with a small front porch, which made her think perhaps it had been a dwelling for someone in its day. She peered inside. Nothing but dirt and old spider webs opaque with dust.

A breeze blew and something waving caught her eye. A few threads of red yarn stood up an inch, caught on a splinter of the gray wood porch. She pulled it out and twirled it between her fingers. It felt more like wool than acrylic. Someone had been there long enough to snag a sweater, or more likely, a blanket. A saddle blanket? Could it have been one of the students? It was a steep climb up from the highway. Maybe Barb had stopped and rested there on a day she took the bus. But something told her it was not from one of the students.

The sun was fully bright over the green hills when Maeve came into the house, notebook in hand, preparing to review the afternoon’s classroom time and riding schedule. Merrylegs jumped up and brought her a toy, Ginger thumped her tail, and Todd was standing by the window, sipping tea from that silly cup shaped like a cowboy boot. It looked awkward to drink from, but it was a gift from Grace and he loved it.

Todd said, “I brought Al his hedge trimmers and asked him about the lad you saw on the hill.”

“Oh?”

“Aye. His wife saw him too. He’s an older chap though, no lad. She called the Sheriff.”

“Really? Is he dangerous?”

“Al doesn’t think so. His wife saw him out there in the preserve beyond their vineyard . . .” Todd half-smiled, “Dancing.”

“Dancing? Was he drunk?”

“Nae. Apparently not. He works as a diesel mechanic down there at Blackwell’s. He goes by Kiko. Apparently, this chap goes out there to the preserve and dances often, others have seen him too, but he hasn’t done anything illegal. There’s nothing they can do unless he is trespassing or becomes threatening in some way. Al had the impression the deputy liked him, even went so far as to call Al lucky.”

Maeve put a hand to her chin. “That’s so odd.”

“Aye. We’ll keep an eye out.”

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Next

Part 1 | History is an Angel

9 - Kiko

Who is Kiko? 1984