I always hated big spaces packed with people, even if it was only the local grocery store. It took everything I had to not whip around, eyes narrowed with insults sitting on my tongue if somebody bumped into me. At least the majority of people in the small little Wisconsin town knew who I was, so they knew well enough to let me alone as I picked up groceries for my parents. But there were always the talkative ones who would stroll up to me and start a conversation, or the clueless ones there for the weekend who wander around and end up being the ones who hit you with their cart and go on the mile-long apologies.
My basket was empty so far, having just gotten there. I was humming a sweet little childhood melody to myself, glancing around at the produce aisle. I figured I would start there. Taking a few tired steps, I weaved through parents and their children clinging to carts before I made it to the edge. Taking one of the pull and twist bags, I filled one up with fresh, red apples by my mother’s request.
My eyes darted towards the other end of the produce section where I could see long, orange carrots in bags. No, I wasn’t asked to pick those up, but Shoelaces and Trudy would thank me. I paced towards the wall as if someone was staring down my neck, and popped in two big bags of them. It may be harder to carry and fit things in the basket now, but my horses would be grateful.
Beside me was a familiar face, none other than the Doctor himself. When calling him by that title, most people knew just who everybody was talking about. His full name was Dr. Walter Crossley, but of course, simply called the Doctor. One would be quizzical how I would know him, but he was the nephew of one of my father’s old friends and had even joined us for dinner a few times. He worked at one of the nicer hospitals not too far off, and had been there since I was a small child. People either loved or hated him. Sure, he had won a good handful of awards for his brilliant mind, but that could bring him down at times. He was experimental. Risky. Nobody could stop him once he worked up a plan. Thus ending up with him getting reported a few times to top off his interesting impression. For those who hadn’t known him for his job, they would instantly be drawn in. He was in his early or mid thirties I would think, with still a young, attractive face. He was topped off with quiet, soft blue eyes and vibrant, chestnut colored tresses that drew off over his head. And he never, ever went anywhere without his nametag because he just wanted everyone to know that he was the Doctor, not that I could ever forget.
“Oh, Stella!” the Doctor instantly said when he saw me. “Good to see you.”
“Good to see you too, Walter.” I said with a nod. I was one of the few people that could call him by his first name and get away with it. He had a liking for me. “How are things with you?”
“Very good. I’ve had a few interesting cases. Normal stuff.” He shrugged it off. “And you? How is your father?”
“Pretty good. Life is normal.” Of course, much had happened to me in the last few weeks, but I had things to get. “My father is fine. The stress of the business has been getting to him lately.”
“Ah, yes.” The Doctor narrowed his eyes. “Well, if he needs anything, let me know.”
“Of course.” I nodded to him, walking off to go grab some bananas.
I picked a nice, ripe bunch, and wandered a ways. This was the normal Wednesday routine for me. I would care for the horses, go fetch groceries, come home and ride, then go to the restaurant. And living in such a small town left me with grocery shopping a much larger a feat then it normally would be. Every time I would end up mingling with two or three neighborhood folks. A lot of the time there would be the same people, such as the Doctor. I ran into him every Wednesday.
When all was well and done in the produce aisle, I looked into my basket and found I had gotten a good array of fruits and vegetables from the carrots to a few avocadoes. One of my mother’s housewife friends tried to start up a conversation with me, but there was no chance. Before she could say hello, I dashed off and made a beeline for the dairy section.
The only thing I grabbed there was a small group of cheeses and sausages right beside them. We always got our milk from one of the neighbor friends, so me buying the massively produced milk here would be a form of betrayal as my father states. I suspected to find somebody at the same section as me, chatting away, but it was quiet today. I chuckled under my breath at the little comment I said in my head- just watch there end up being ten or so people show up and try to talk.
I walked off towards the deli, my stomach rumbling. I might as well pick up something small for myself as well as what I was asked to grab. My parents may not be happier on the slightly larger bill to pay, but by now they were probably used to it. I always went a little crazy when handed a few hundred-dollar bills and a massive building decked up with food. Right away the deli section came into view, a modern style wooden structure in one of the corners beside dried fruit. There was a bit of a line, but I set that aside as I strolled up to grab a ticket.
It was a few minutes before I was called, and straight away I ordered sliced turkey from Nancy, the same lady that has handed out the orders since I was born. And twenty years ago. Probably even sixty years ago if the food mart was around by then. She was old, very old, no doubt in her eighties or even nineties but still going strong. By now she was just a skeleton with a small, thin layer of skin stretching over every protruding bone. She was pale, a ghostly white, and her stark white hair was the icing on the cake. I guess back in the day she might have been a lady the men pined for, but now her once vibrant, sea green eyes had become the dead seaweed washed up on the beach. They were hollow, dead wounds that once held life. But now she was half-gone, and as to why she was still working I didn’t know.
“Thank you, Nancy.” I told her with a dip of my head as she handed over the turkey.
She nodded, lips puckered together. She quit talking five years ago. Since then, she began to fade more and more every day. It was sad, really, to see over the years the kind lady fall and deteriorate to nothing. I guess I should suspect one day I may come to order turkey and have her not be here, but I shuffled it aside.
I could write a book called ‘The People of the Food Mart’. When I went to go grab some cereal, of course there was another local who decided to start up a conversation. As always. It was just another lady though who was looking for a free steak from the Hunt Club, so half-heartedly I pushed her away. See, in this book I could have a page for every person that came up to speak because I was a Townsend. In the end, it could be the longest book in history.
I shuffled down towards the fresh meat section. It was true that we could always have one at our restaurant, but there was nothing wrong with grilling at home. I grabbed some chops and hamburger meat, and I sighed in relief of seeing I only had a few more things to grab now. I turned around, slipping the meats into my basket. Only then did I gasp, and cower back against the wall in surprise.
“Stella, calm down. It’s only me. I guess you shop here too.” The girl laughed slightly as she slipped a box of cereal into her basket.
It was Scarlett.
“Oh. I’ve never seen you around these parts.” I said in all honesty. I thought she lived far off.
“Yeah, well, normally my mother comes here but not today.” Scarlett sighed.
She ran a hand over her cheek, which was slightly red. I narrowed my eyes. She spoke about her mother in such disgust that it made me idly curious as to how it came to be that way. Did her mother do that to her? Or maybe I was just pondering too far.
“Oh.” I replied, blinking. “Do you live around here then?”
“Yeah, slightly north. With my mother.” She nodded slowly, eyes becoming cloudy. “And of course you live around these parts as well.”
“Yeah. How come I never see you around?” I asked. It was a harmless question.
“Well…” Scarlett looked down. I didn’t know why, but there seemed to be a haze of sadness in her eyes now. “It’s kind of difficult to explain, really.”
I shrugged. “I have time.”
Scarlett opened her mouth to speak, but slowly closed it back. Her eyelashes fluttered, and she seemed especially flustered. She wasn’t being herself. Yes, I only knew her for a weekend, but I knew well enough to know she outgoing and happy, never fazed by anything. To see her like this almost made me shocked, and I didn’t know what to expect. Finally, she glanced back into me.
“I cant tell you here.” She said quietly.
“You can come over and tell me.” I said, smiling. Maybe that support was what Scarlett needed. “You can come see Shoelaces and we can talk.”
Scarlett’s eyes instantly brightened. I could see right away I said just the right words. I never, ever asked people to come over because I was Stella Townsend, the girl who dislikes words and preferred horses to people, and Stella Townsend never had people over. But Scarlett looked like she needed me. There was just an unexplainable look in her eyes.
“Sure.” She said with a shrug, but her voice was quick and worried. “That’s fine.”
The two of us finished grabbing what we needed before we checked out. My father had bought a new truck, a new model that had all the hype, and he still did not know Louisa was guilty of destroying the old one. I saw her every other day, whether we would grab coffee or just see each other around. I did drive the new truck up here, and my dad did somehow find the trust to let me drive again. After all, I did take the blame for crashing the old one. Scarlett grabbed her small little bag of things and hopped in the front seat beside me. I drove the full five minutes back home, Scarlett breathing soft and slow with the same glint of sadness in her eyes.
My parents weren’t home since they were off visiting a friend. So, Scarlett and I managed to pull in and slip unnoticed into the barn. I asked her where her house was, and sure enough it was ten minutes from my own. I never did know why I didn’t see her around, but I was going to figure it out. I put our groceries away, and we slipped into the barn and said hello to Shoelaces before sitting in our mountain of hay. For a normal person, they would have freaked out going in the itchy straws, but not for us fellow equestrians.
There was a slight silence, Scarlett rubbing her hands together. She seemed anxious, and even broke a sweat. I didn’t know what to say, so I spent the awkward minute trying to figure out something to say. But of course- I had nothing.
“So…” I mumbled.
Scarlett’s eyes instantly bore into mine. She didn’t speak, but instead went for the seven bracelets going up and down her left arm. She froze a second, biting her lip. But then began to pull them off one by one. At first I didn’t notice what she was doing, but then my eyes nearly shot out of my head. Now that the bracelets were gone and her arm was bare, I could see the light pink stripes- or should I say scars- running up and down her wrist. At the very top there were a few raw gashes as if they were bleeding recently, and I gasped.
“Scarlett! Your arm!” I choked out, being unable to process what I was seeing. There was no way that perfect Scarlett could actually do that… There was no way…
“The reason you never see me around.” Her voice sounded like she could break down and cry any second. “Is because I live in a personal hell. I know what you probably thought of me. Perfect Scarlett. Always caring for others. But the horses are my only escape.”
I shook my head, voice quiet. “Scarlett, but why? What happens to you at home?” I was desperate now.
“For starters…” She seemed to have difficulty getting everything out. She reached a hand to the irritated, red skin on her cheek. “My mom… she isn’t like normal moms. She’s… different. Likes to be- rough.”
So that’s where it came from. I guess her mother either slapped her on the cheek or popped her with a fist. I understood what she meant by rough. I had no experience with any of that, but I knew well enough. Scarlett’s mom abused her. And I could hardly believe it.
“And my father isn’t here anymore.” I could see her eyes becoming glossy and threatening to cry. “He bought me Twister. But then… He was gone. In the sky. What he left for me in my name is the only way I can afford to keep him because my mother wants nothing to do with it. I’m a working student just so I can afford to have him.” That was the last straw, and instantly the tears began to stream down her face.
“Scarlett. I had no idea.” My voice was raspy. It almost didn’t seem real. “You were always so nice… and I would never have guessed.”
“I’m sorry for lying to you.” She said with a shrug. I didn’t see what she meant. Lying?
“What? What do you mean?” I asked, eyes narrowed.
“I’m just sorry that all this time I was wearing a fake smile.” She shrugged. “It’s just, I don’t tell people because they don’t care.”
“I care.” I said in a hushed voice.
I could have sworn a weak little smile overcame her desperate looking face.
We talked for hours and hours that day. Scarlett’s mother continuously tried calling her on her phone, but she ignored it. Said she would end up getting hit anyway. And by the time both of us spilled out everything to each other, her having much more than I did, it was time for me to go to the restaurant. My parents did realize Scarlett was there, and were fine with it because I was actually being social for once. After some begging, I got the chance to stay home. Scarlett said she better get back, but there was no way I was going to let her go home to that.
I told her to stay the night, and after some arguing she finally agreed. I didn’t ask about the scars on her wrist, but I knew well enough why they were there. With a life such as that, how could one escape? I guess if I was in the same situation then I would have resulted to the same thing. After my parents left, to brighten her spirits I told Scarlett she was going to ride Shoelaces. Much like before, she argued but I finally got her to agree. The two of us tacked him up slowly, savoring the beautiful moments being with a horse brings. She did have a liking for the horse, but could not stop studying his face. I was a little confused as to why, bouncing off of the time when she had a realization he looked much like a horse she knew. But I didn’t want to mention anything that may unsettle her, so I let it be. And finally, Shoelaces was all tacked up and Scarlett had on my boots and helmet.
I led him up to the mounting block, and Scarlett easily swung into the saddle. Our legs were the same length so she had no problem with adjusting into the saddle. Up there, she seemed at peace. She even had a smile, and I knew riding was just what she needed right now. She walked him forward in a circle, sitting calm and easy in the saddle.
“Follow me. To the ring.” I told her.
Walking behind me on my old grey, I made way to my backyard where I had a new course set up. There was a single on the outside with a diagonal line and an end jump, which my mother made to teach me handy hunter courses. I only planned to hack Shoelaces today, but a kink in his schedule wouldn’t be a problem. I wanted to see Scarlett go in full flight.
“Do you want me to hack him, or…” Her voice wavered off.
“Sure. Then you can jump.” I dared not to stop smiling, and Scarlett instantly sparked up. This truly was what she needed.
After a lap of walking, she got a trot. I could see what my mother meant by ‘big and nice’. He had a huge, lofty gait and he flicked his toes easily in front of him. There were occasions where it looked as if he wasn’t even touching the ground, and he was more than nice. He looked like the horses I saw on the live streams. And then there was Scarlett, and this was my first time seeing her ride. She looked effortless up there, hands still and heel perfectly down with just the right amount of arch in her back. She got Shoelaces in a perfect frame, and while her trainer may be a bit harsh as she described to me, clearly she was good based off what I was seeing. I’m sure she had natural talent too, because Shoelaces looked much better than I could ever make him.
I watched them for a good long while, Scarlett making Shoelaces look like an equitation horse with all of the elaborate exercises she did him in. And before long, she slipped easily in a canter. She started in a half-seat, staying nice and light on his back. Shoelaces truly was enjoying it as well, because his eyelids dropped and he had an ear flicked back in total relaxation. She sat in the corners, showing off the great seat that must have taken years to perfect.
And there she got a lead change, and I could see in her face she was in a whole other world up there. All of the pain she had on her face before was drained, the only expression left being utter concentration. Her eyes darted around, plotting the turns she would make with Shoelaces. Based off of all the things she was doing with him, I would say she was pretty confident and sure liked him. After a few minutes, she finally slowed to a walk and ran her hand up and down his faintly sweaty neck.
“Go ahead and jump whatever you want!” I yelled out to her.
Scarlett didn’t even need to reply. Based off of the happy spark that came to her eyes, that was enough of a response for me. She started with the crossrail on the end, and trotted Shoelaces over that. She had a perfect equitation release, and I could see why she won the Maclay with Twister. She released with her hands, not body, and stayed very soft on the landing. He landed correct, so she then continued cantering. She got Shoelaces to a perfect distance, and I wished I could do that. Her eye for the distances seemed unbeatable, almost unreal. When she took him up over the single on the outside, once more she got there at the perfect distance and got Shoelaces to jump up in full form.
I stood there for about seven minutes, just watching Shoelaces and Scarlett breeze over the course. She was at rest out there, completely forgetting all of her troubles. Shoelaces’ ears were so far forward that I didn’t think they could go any farther. After clearing the diagonal line for another perfect time, she finally eased to a walk.
“You ride him great.” I told her with a smile. “Shoelaces sure looked happy!”
“Stella, your horse is amazing.” Scarlett’s voice was dreamy. I was right, she sure liked him. “Riding him doesn’t even seem real.”
“You can ride him whenever you want!” I told her in an innocent gesture.
Scarlett’s response was a laugh, and it made me happy to see a smile on her face now. Now that she had put all of her bracelets back on, I never would have guessed she was troubled in the first place. I could see what she meant by horses were her only escape, and for me it was the same. There was something about being atop a horse that completely overcame you with happiness.
She walked him around a little bit more, rein long. Shoelaces had a lazy look in his eye, ears swiveled towards Scarlett as if she would give him another command. He was ridiculously obedient, and that surprised me. When we rescued him, I expected him to lack trust. But Shoelaces was exactly the opposite. He loved people, and was so eager to please. I could ask anything of him and he would do it. So when Scarlett finally did hop off, I put the reins over his head and allowed the horse to follow us back to the barn without even touching the reins. If I stopped, he would stop. If I ran, he would jog right after me.
Much like we did when we tacked up Shoelaces, the two of us worked to untack Shoelaces. I took off the tack, and then Scarlett brushed him clean. I would have washed him off with the hose, but it was getting dark out fast and I didn’t want to risk blindly spraying him. I did also intend on hacking Trudy today, but as it turns out I wouldn’t get time for that. I could do it tomorrow when Scarlett left to go back to her hell- or should I say home. But was it a home? I was sure it was only a house for her. After all, a house is not a home.
I thought I would end up having to take Scarlett back to her house, but she was going to work tomorrow so I could drive her straight to Last Wish. While it would be longer for me, I was happier driving her there then back to her mother. She finally did pick up the phone when her mother called, wondering where she was. There was a whole lot of ‘Deal with it’s’ and ‘Calm the fuck downs’ but finally she came to terms with her mother and she snarkily agreed.
We went upstairs, and I made the decision that Scarlett could sleep in our scarcely inhabited guestroom. Very rarely would we ever get people to sleep in there. Nobody ever did visit us unless it was over a steak and bottle of wine. The hunt themed bed was untouched and made, and Scarlett instantly fell into it and closed her eyes closed. I’m sure back at home she didn’t get as nice a room as this. She had described to me how things were much better when her father was alive, and he did everything for her. She said he was someone I would have liked, which meant he must have been a really good person because I hardly like anyone. After a little bit of speaking, Scarlett reached forward and began to turn off the lamp.