The Yonahlossee Riding Camp For Girls Part 6

Georgie crossed his heart. "Promise!"

Sam laughed. Georgie had accidentally squashed one of Sam's tree frogs last month, and he was always picking up lizards the wrong way and severing their bodies from their tails. Sam was gentler: he knew how to entice a lizard into his cupped hands, how to pinch a snake by its neck and wind its body around his wrist.

"Poor snake," I murmured. "Do you think it really wants to come live with you?"

Sam grinned. "Better than getting eaten by a bigger snake, or a bird."

Georgie stopped and unscrewed the cap of his canteen, then tilted it to his mouth. We each had one strapped across our backs. I took a sip from mine, too; I liked how the water tasted cool, slightly metallic. Aunt Carrie let Georgie grow his hair longer than my mother let Sam grow his, so my cousin had a wild look about him now, his brown hair unkempt, bleached in streaks by the sun. My brother knelt and examined a palmful of dirt. Georgie was changing, next to Sam; there was hair when he lifted his arms, and his sweat smelled ripe and musky. From this vantage point, Georgie looked almost like a man, muscle-bound and thick. Sam was still impossibly skinny, in the way of boys, his spine stretched taut against his skin.

"If we're lucky," Sam said, standing, "we'll see a coral snake. They're so beautiful. I see some snake tracks, but I don't know which kind. But we're near water."

Coral snakes lived near water; I knew that from Sam. Or maybe I had always known it.

"Hopefully we won't be lucky," Georgie said, "since they're deadly."

Sam and I gazed at him. Coral snakes were deadly, but they were shy. And they had to chew on you for a long time before any venom was transmitted. We knew what to be afraid of in the Florida wilderness, but we were taught to be unafraid of the natural world. The smaller the animal, the more afraid it was of us. And when I was on my pony, my father told me, I was a terrifying creature-snakes could feel our footsteps from miles away, and bears and panthers could smell us before they saw us.

Sam was a very cautious naturalist. His terrariums were full of reptiles that were not poisonous. He only wanted to see a coral snake, not capture it.

"You're such a city boy," I said. "You'd have a better chance of choking on your water than being bitten by a coral snake."

"I'll take my chances with the canteen," Georgie said, and grinned. He took another sip of water.

Sam started to delve into the specifics of the coral snake's bite, and then he moved on to the pygmy rattlesnake, in order to provide context, and I started to walk again, hoping to move things along. I didn't want to be out here too long. I didn't know how long the belt would last.

"Quiet," I whispered, when I saw the gra.s.s s.h.i.+ver slightly. I pointed.

"Could be a lizard," Sam said softly. He dropped to his knees, then crawled to the edge of the gra.s.s, which came up to our waists.

Georgie and I watched him, trying to stand as still as possible. Sam could move as quietly as an Indian. We could not. I held my breath and Sam reached into the gra.s.s and pulled out a long black snake, an orange band encircling its neck. I felt a flash of pride; Sam was quick.

"Good eye, Thea," he said, and showed us the snake's belly, which was beautifully vermillion. "He's at least twelve inches."

We watched the snake writhe around in Sam's net.

"Diadophis p. punctatus," he said.

"Diadophis," Georgie said, "this was not your lucky day."

"But it was mine," Sam said, happy.

I watched the snake, motionless in the net, as if it had accepted its fate. It was fully grown, an adult, and unblemished. A lucky snake. Sam would not keep him forever in a gla.s.s house, but the snake would not know that.

- Mother was in my bedroom when I came in from out back, sitting on the edge of my unmade bed.

"There's blood on your sheets," she said, and I looked to where she pointed.

"I was going to tell you today."

She stood, and I thought she was going to leave, but then she came very close to me and untucked my blouse before I could stop her.

"Where did you get this?" Her hand lingered on the belt. I looked out the window, at the great oak that hovered over our house like a parent. Father said it kept us cool in the summers, warm in the winters.

"I'm sorry," I said quickly. "I'm sorry."

She nodded, and took my hand between hers, as if entreating me. But I was her daughter, I didn't need entreating. "Do you know what this means?"

"That I can't ride."

She laughed. "No. It means you can have a child now."

I was horrified. My mother smiled at me very, very kindly and I wanted her to be angry at me, anything but this tenderness. Usually I eagerly received my mother's affection, but I did not want any more attention drawn to this thing that had happened to me, to my body. I had not wanted it to happen. I had not asked for it.

"Of course not now," she continued, "but someday. Doesn't that please you, Thea?"

I shook my head. My mother drew me close and pressed my head to her chest.

"Oh, don't cry. I didn't mean to alarm you. I only don't want you to think that this is anything to be ashamed of."

I sprung back. "You won't tell anyone?"

"Of course not. This is between us. A woman's matter." She smiled faintly. "It's nothing to be ashamed of, Thea. Nothing."

I nodded. I didn't know what to say, so I thanked my mother, and she responded in kind, out of habit, as she left the room.

"You're welcome."

I was very good at focusing my mind. That's what Father called it. Mother called it ignoring the consequences. I had bled twice before this, the first time more than a year ago. And I had kept it a secret because I was confused by the thing that was happening to me. I didn't understand how something I had expected could make me feel so ashamed. And I knew telling made a thing real. I flung myself on my now-made bed, which wasn't something we were allowed to do, and pressed my face into my pillow and wished that I would hear a voice, Georgie's or Sam's or even Aunt Carrie's-just a sign that life went on without me, that my bleeding was not really a great or particularly exciting fact. I was a girl, the only girl in our world. How different I was from Georgie and Sam had been articulated by Mother. I felt, for the first time in my life, apart, adrift. A floating girl.

Now I understand that the relief I could see, faintly, on Mother's face was relief that I was normal. She must have been worried, her daughter fourteen, almost fifteen, and still not menstruating. She's simply a late bloomer-I'm sure Father would have told her this, uttered these exact words or something so close, and Mother would have agreed with him or not, but still she would have gone away and worried.

- My father came home later than he had promised, and Mother was waiting for him by the front door. I was afraid she was going to tell him I'd started menstruating, so I waited in the sun porch where I could hear them.

"They're waiting outside," my mother said, and my father nodded.

"How are they?" He put down his black doctor's bag, which was always with him. "How do they seem?"

"Fine," she said, and helped him out of his white coat.

"Fine?"

"Fine, Felix." Her voice was soft but firm. The conversation of adults was often coded, impenetrable. And though I usually cared very little about the adult matters my mother and father discussed, this was something else, something that involved my aunt and uncle, and, by extension, Georgie. And I cared about Georgie, deeply.

I waited a second and then followed them to the back deck, where the adults went to have c.o.c.ktails before dinner. I was surprised by my disappointment that Mother hadn't mentioned me to Father. Everyone sat in our low deck chairs, green-painted metal, around a table set with canapes and a bottle of champagne for the ladies, a decanter of whiskey for the men. Though liquor was technically illegal, getting it was like a game everyone played, and won. Uncle George knew someone in Gainesville who kept him, and us, supplied. This was usually my favorite part of the visits, the time when the adults were happiest.

I walked up behind Father, kissed the top of his head. He smiled up at me, and Uncle George winked at me. Georgie and Sam sat on the ground, a little bit behind everyone, watching the snake. Sam had filled a terrarium with dirt and moss and rocks; a miniature of the snake's former home. I sat down next to them.

Aunt Carrie caught my eye and smiled. "Is your pony better, Thea?"

I looked at my aunt blankly before I remembered. "Oh, yes," I said. "He just needs to rest for a few days."

"Good." She smiled and smoothed her skirt over her plump stomach.

My father watched my mother as she tipped the champagne bottle to her gla.s.s, lifted it away just as the bubbles threatened to flood the rim. We were all watching her, now, and I thought of what she had said earlier, about being a woman. It seemed very womanly, to have everyone watching you.

"Well," Uncle George said, and paused. He held a pipe in his hand, a thin stream of smoke curling to the heavens. I loved the smell. Idella stepped onto the porch then, carrying a platter of tiny chive biscuits. Sam stood and grabbed a handful before she set it down on the table.

"Sam," Mother chided softly. She seemed distracted. All of the adults did.

"It's eating. That's soon. The last one didn't eat for days," Sam said, ignoring Mother, kneeling down and pointing at the snake, which was indeed eating an earthworm. I shuddered.

"Are you going to catch all its food?" Georgie asked. "Seems like a lot of work."

Sam swallowed the last of his biscuit. I tapped my cheek, to show him there was a crumb, but he was lost in the world of the snake. He could do this, devote himself completely to an animal; I could, too, with Sasi, but it seemed entirely different. Sasi was warm-blooded, like me.

Sam gently lifted the snake from the terrarium and stroked its head. The snake seemed calm, mollified. Mother said it was Sam's gift, calming animals that frightened most people. He lowered the snake to the wooden ground and it started to slither away, slowly. "It needs its exercise," Sam murmured, as he crawled on his hands and knees to follow it.

Georgie looked at me and rolled his eyes, and I smiled. I could not imagine loving a snake as much as my brother did.

"He's a snake charmer," I said, and Georgie began to say something else, but then we both turned, drawn by the odd, unmistakable sound of someone weeping. My aunt. I felt chilled. I couldn't ever remember seeing her cry. In fact, I'd only seen my mother cry once before, when her horse had to be put down; my father, never.

I turned to Georgie, but he was watching his mother.

"It's worthless now?" my mother asked quietly. "All of it?"

My aunt closed her eyes, and pressed her fingers to her lips. My uncle watched his pipe, which he held carefully, pinched between his thumb and finger. He would not meet Mother's eye. Neither of them spoke. I turned to my cousin again, and there were bright red splotches on his cheeks and forehead, the redness colonizing his fair skin. He knew.

"Miami," Aunt Carrie said dolefully, and shook her head. "Miami."

Miami was where Uncle George had been going for years, since I could remember. He drove down there once a month, to look after his property, property he would eventually sell.

My father said nothing, sat very still, his hands on his knees, his face blank. But I understood that this blankness meant something: my father was angry.

"Tell her, George," Aunt Carrie said, "tell her."

Uncle George looked at his wife, and she nodded. "Go on."

"To put it plainly, as I told my brother this morning, I owe the bank more than it's worth. It was a foolish investment from the beginning," he said finally. "But it seemed a sure thing. Bryan himself called the light 'G.o.d's Suns.h.i.+ne.' Everyone wanted a piece, Elizabeth. There were so many people who wanted to live there . . ." He trailed off. "It seemed a sure thing."

When my father spoke, his voice was soft but clear. "Nothing in this life is sure, George." A bright red cardinal landed on the railing, and gave a little chirp. My father turned his head in the direction of the sound, gazed at the bird for a moment, and then turned back to his brother. "Nothing."

"Especially land speculation," my uncle said, and laughed nervously.

I felt sick to my stomach. The air was thick, the adults were so distracted they hadn't noticed me and Georgie. Sam was still following his snake.

Georgie stood, and walked off the porch into the backyard without asking to be excused. I waited for an adult to call him back, but they just watched him go, their foreheads creased, and I was suddenly so angry at everyone-my stupid brother, my stupid parents, my stupid aunt and uncle.

I ran after Georgie. My mother called after me-"Thea!"-but I ignored her.

When I caught up to him, I touched his shoulder.

He spun around. "What do you want?"

I couldn't say anything. I didn't know what I would say. His meanness surprised me; Georgie was never mean to me.

"Let's go to the barn," I said quietly. I knew he would follow me. When Sasi heard me, he nickered and swung his pretty head over the stall door. It was nearly time for him to eat. I patted his broad forehead, and waited. I sensed that Georgie would speak when he was ready.

I murmured to Sasi, told him what a good boy he was. I hoped the bleeding would not last too long this time. I hated not riding, hated spending a day or two reestablis.h.i.+ng things with Sasi before we could begin again where we had left off.

"My father thought we were going to be rich," Georgie said, from behind me, "like you."

Sasi nipped my hand, lightly, mouthy because he was hungry.

"We're not rich," I said.

Georgie gave a short, hard laugh. "You have the oranges."

It was true. We did have the oranges.

"Do you know what it means to mortgage your house, Thea?" he asked. He stepped closer to me. He touched the tail of my braid, and I s.h.i.+vered. "It means my father borrowed money from the bank against our house."

"Why?" I could barely breathe. Georgie's finger lingered on my back, toying with my hair.

"To buy more land, in Miami," Georgie said. "He was happy to sell soon." He was almost whispering. "And now the country is doing very badly, and he can't pay the bank back, and he asked for money. From your father."

I could feel Georgie's breath on my neck. I could smell him: strong, oily, like he had been out in the woods.

Very badly. Those were our parents' words. Father had said the same thing about the country last week. But our parents' world was separate from ours, another place entirely. Georgie need not worry about the matters of adults. I spun around and faced my cousin, who looked mournful, the opposite of how G.o.d had made him to look. I took his hand.

"They'll take care of it. You'll see."

I could see Georgie wanted to believe me.

"Trust me," I said.

I would show Georgie I was not afraid. Money meant nothing to me, then. If Uncle George borrowed money from my family, that was fine, because everything was shared in a family, and besides, there was always more money. There was always another set of silk drapes from Orlando, another pony, another ivory-handled knife.

"All right," he said. The old Georgie had returned to me. "All right. I'll trust you, Thea."

He kissed me on the cheek. I blushed, but I was pleased because I had pleased my cousin, because I had cheered him up, because I had shown him that the money did not matter.

I believed all those things I told my cousin that day. I had everything I loved in the world within one hundred feet: my parents, my aunt and uncle, my brother. My cousin and pony within arm's reach. My understanding of our world, I thought, was complete.

{6}.