Lean on Pete (18 page)

Her name was Nancy and she was my dad’s girlfriend when they worked together at a grocery store. She had black hair and was tall and was ten years older than him. My dad broke up with her but after a while they got back together and he got her pregnant. Then they broke up again. When I was born I stayed with her but when I was a year old she left me with him for a week and never came back. He thought she might have moved to North Dakota because that was where she was from but he didn’t know. He always said he wasn’t sure why she left, but said he was glad she did. When I was younger I used to ask him about her all the time, but he’d never say anything at all. Then one night when he was drunk he told me she was the moodiest person he’d ever met. He said there were times when she’d walk in the door and you’d swear she was a different person. Even the way she talked was different. He said she could be mean one hour and then nice the next, then mean again. She could spend days on the edge of both at the same time.

“I ain’t gonna lie to you,” he said. “She ain’t called or sent a card but I know deep down she loves you. She really does. She’s just fucked-up in the head and likes to party too much. I know it’s hard to hear, but its a good thing she’s gone. I ain’t shit but I like being here with you.”

When it was light enough to walk I rolled up my sleeping bag and gave Pete the last of the hay from the duffel. I watched him eat and while he did I drank water and the last can of stew.

When I saw the ranch again in the morning light I could see it was a pretty big operation. Trucks and cars were parked in front of the house and there were two barns to the side of it and a huge hay field behind it. A tractor was heading down a dirt road. There were too many people and it made me nervous so I headed further south, where I could see nothing but more hills and more sagebrush. I figured I’d go around the ranch and then make my way back near the highway.

The day went slow and was hotter than it had been. A couple times I got so tired that I wanted to sit down in the sun but I knew if I did I’d be ruined. We came to a steep gully and it took us a long time to get down it. I moved Pete as slow as I could because there were so many rocks, but he ran into me and I fell and I let go of the lead rope. I wasn’t hurt or anything and he just moved ahead of me and made it to the bottom. I thought he might run off but he didn’t, he just stopped.

We came to a small muddy creek. The water moved slow and was brown. It was maybe three feet wide and there were a handful of aspen trees that lined it. Pete ate grass from the small patches that lined the banks. I decided we’d rest there. I tied his lead to the base of the largest tree and laid out my sleeping bag in the shade and sat on it. I ate a can of soup, then drank the brown muddy water from the creek and rested. When I woke it was late afternoon. Pete was just standing there. He had sagebrush stuck to his tail and he was dusty. Every once in a while he’d stomp or move his tail to chase away a fly but other than that it looked like he was sleeping. I got up and went to him. I got the brush off his tail and pet him, then took off my shoes and set my feet in the water.

“This ain’t so bad,” I said to Pete. “If there was enough food we could probably stay here all summer.” I lay back and looked up at the sky. There were clouds but none of them blocked out the sun.

“I just have to figure out how to make us money. I’ll make sure you’re alright so don’t worry about that. We’re a family now. And if I can’t find my aunt I’ll get a job at a place where you and me can live until we figure something else out. Last night I started dreaming that I made a ton of money and one day Del came by our place looking for a job. ‘Well, Del,’ I said to him as I sat behind a huge desk. ‘If you weren’t such an asshole I might give you a try. If you weren’t such a mean pervert cocksucker I’d at least lend you a twenty. But let me talk to my partner, maybe he’ll help you out.’ Then you’d come in and Del’s eyes would get huge with worry and he’d start shaking, he’d be scared out of his skin. He’d be sweating bullets and then you’d push him outside and he’d start screaming and then he’d get hit by a huge Greyhound bus!”

I started laughing at that, but Pete just stood there dozing in the heat. Only his tail moved as it worked against the flies.

When night neared I got hungry again and ate a can of corn, then I got inside my sleeping bag. I lay awake for hours. It was the first night I was really scared. I could hear coyotes yelping and they seemed right next to us and you could tell it was making Pete uneasy, too. Then it got windy and the leaves on the trees shook. It sounded like someone was walking towards us and I couldn’t sleep. It was only with daylight finally approaching that I conked out.

I woke hours later from a nightmare. I was in a restaurant and the Samoan was there. My dad had gone to use the restroom and the Samoan came in and sat at a table and stared at me. You could tell he was angry, it was boiling over in him. He began hitting the table, almost breaking it. I thought that at any moment he’d come and attack me but he didn’t, he just waited. I couldn’t leave, it was like I was glued to my seat. Then my dad came back and I tried to warn him but I couldn’t say anything. I tried and tried but no words came out. Then the Samoan jumped up out of his chair and ran as hard as he could and tackled my dad and strangled him to death. He had his big hands around my dad’s throat and my dad’s face turned red and then purple and he looked at me, he looked at me like it was my fault.

When I opened my eyes I was sweating and the sun was over me. I moved to the shade of the trees and I sat there for a long time and tried to clear my head. Then I rolled the sleeping bag up, filled the jug with water from the creek, ate my last can of corn, and we left. We followed the creek and I hoped we’d find bits of grass he could eat and for a while there was some, then the creek became mud and then it disappeared altogether. We kept walking. It got so hot out that I took off my pants and walked in my underwear and by the late afternoon we’d finished all the water.

We went up one ridge and then down another. We didn’t stop for a long time. Then I saw a series of ranches and houses and fences. There was a paved road. I put my pants back on and we waited until past dusk, then walked down the ridge and towards the people.

It was completely dark when we made it to the paved street and we walked on it for a long while. Seven or eight different ranches and houses passed before us but we didn’t see anyone and we kept going. We came to a hay field, I could smell it, and we walked along it until we came to a rusted-out old gate. It was tied with wire but I opened it and Pete and I went through it and out onto the field. I took us as far from the road as I could and stopped and Pete ate.

I laid the sleeping bag down and the moon was out and gave off enough light that I could watch Pete eat. I extended the lead rope again and tied it to my ankle and lay down. I was tired and thirsty and I fell asleep. Pete moved throughout the night and the rope pulled on my ankle, but I was so tired I just moved the sleeping bag closer to him and lay back down.

I woke the next morning to a Mexican shaking me with his foot. He was standing over me. He was old, in his fifties or more. He was short and wore a baseball hat and had on a stained long-sleeve dress shirt and jeans.

“
Hola
,” the man said.

“Hello,” I said and looked up at him.

“
¿Es tuyo ese caballo?
” he said.

“What?”

“You horse?” he said and his accent was really thick.

“No,” I said and stood up. I looked around the field but there was no one else there, just a truck parked alongside the road near the gate.

He looked at the rope tied from Pete to my ankle.

“
Eso es muy peligroso
,” he said and shook his head. “
No es una buena idea
.”

I bent down and untied the rope. He took it from the ground, looped it, and held it. He ran his hands along Pete’s back.

“
¿De quién es el caballo?
”

I shrugged my shoulders.

“Who own him?”

“No one,” I said. “He’s his own horse.”

“His own horse?”

“Yeah,” I said.

The man laughed out loud. He kept petting Pete and said things to him in Mexican.

“
¿Eres un fugitivo?
”

“What?”

“Runaway?”

“No,” I said.

“Where are you from?”

“Portland.”

“Portland?”

“Yes.”

The man laughed, then shook his head.

“Far.”

I nodded.

“Where going?”

“Wyoming.”

“Wyoming?”

I nodded again.

“Walking?”

“I guess,” I said. “I don’t know.”

“Guillermo,” he said and put out his hand.

“Charley,” I told him.

“
¿Tienes hambre?
”

“What?”

“Hungry?” he said and patted his stomach.

I nodded.

“Come with me,” he said and pointed to my sleeping bag. I went over to it, rolled it up, and followed him.

We walked to the side of the road where his pickup sat parked.

He tied Pete to a fence post, then went to his truck and came back with a cup of coffee and a McDonald’s bag. He opened the tailgate, sat down on it, and told me to come over. He tried to hand me an Egg McMuffin.

“I don’t have any money,” I said.

“
¿No tienes dinero?
”

“No,” I told him.

He shook his head.

“
Estás loco
,” he said and put the sandwich in my hands.

I took it and ate it while he drank coffee. When I finished he handed me another one.

I shook my head but he put it in front of me again.

“It’s your breakfast, isn’t it?” I said.

He pointed to his bulging belly and laughed, so I took it. When I was done he stood up. He finished his coffee and threw the empty cup in the bed of the truck and shut the tailgate. He reached into his back pocket and took ten dollars from his wallet and handed it to me.

“No,” I said.

“Careful where you sleep. You’re have a hard time.”

“If you send me your address I’ll mail it back to you when I can.”

“No,” he said and waved me off trying to give it back. I put the money in my pants pocket and we shook hands.

“
Puede que sea su propio caballo, pero éste es un mundo de hombres. Ten cuidado con él
.”

I shrugged my shoulders.

“Wyoming is far,” he said, then shook his head and smiled. “Good luck.”

“Thank you,” I said and smiled back to him.

Then he got into his truck and drove off and I never saw him again.

We walked down the road and there wasn’t a cloud anywhere and the heat hadn’t set in. Pete and I were both full and for the first time I felt that we weren’t cursed.

“Maybe this is the start of a lucky run,” I told him. His hooves clanked next to me on the pavement. “When we get a dog, maybe we’ll name him Guillermo, alright?”

Pete just kept walking.

“Alright,” I said and pet him. “I’m glad you agree.”

Chapter 20

We walked along the paved road for hours and we couldn’t get off because every property was lined with barbed-wire fences. Cars slowed when they saw us, but not one stopped or rolled down their window and said anything. The day went along and we kept going, and it was alright except we had no water and my stomach was beginning to hurt because of it. We went up a long hill and came down the other side and saw a house set off the road. It wasn’t a ranch or a big property like the others we passed, it was just an old white house with a separate garage and a yard that had a few trees. It was the first place I’d seen where no cars were parked so I walked towards it.

We went up the drive and I tied Pete to the chain-link fence that surrounded the yard and I knocked on the front door. I stood there for a while but no one answered. I walked around the property and found an old plastic bucket behind the garage. I took it to the backyard where there was a hose and washed it out and filled it. I drank as much water as I could, then carried the bucket back to Pete and set it down for him to drink.

I sat down on the ground and looked at the map and my heart sank when I saw how far we still had to walk to get to Wyoming. I knew then that I’d probably have to steal a truck and trailer to get there.

Pete drank until the bucket was empty. I went back and filled it again, then left him and looked for an open window on the house and found one. It had a screen, and I tried not to break it, but I did. I left it on the ground outside, climbed in, and stepped down into the kitchen.

It was an old person’s house. There was a quilt hanging on the wall and dozens of pictures of families and kids. The place was clean and there was a TV and a couch, a couple of easy chairs and a fireplace. In the cupboards I found a row of canned food. I took two black beans, one green beans, one vegetable soup, and a can of tuna fish. In a drawer there were dozens of plastic sacks and I took one and put the cans in there. I looked in the fridge and took a couple cans of soda and crawled back outside. I took the broken screen and hopped over the chain-link and walked a long way from the house and put dirt and rocks over it to hide it and walked back to the house.

Pete just stood there half asleep and the bucket was nearly empty. I dumped out the last of the water and set it back where I found it. I drank as much water as I could out of the hose and we left.

We walked by a hay field that was fenced off but there was grass growing under the barbed wire and near the road. I stopped, sat down, and let Pete eat there for a long time.

“Maybe we’ll find a place with a pool,” I said. “And maybe the guy that owns it is a vet and he’s got a nice wife who is a good cook. The vet is so busy he doesn’t have time to work on his place so he hires you and me. And then the woman makes me go to school and the vet fixes your feet and they let me live in a trailer near their house. The trailer’s really nice and it has its own bathroom and there’s cable TV. And they have a fridge that’s always full of food.”