Page 34 of Saddles

After I dry myself and climb into the oversized clothes, Ialmostam starting to feel like a human again.

A very tired one. I can’t believe how much that kicked my ass.

But I need to do something about this rat’s nest on my head.

“Do you have a comb? Or a brush?” I ask, sitting on the short stool and trying to rake through the tangles with my fingers.

It might be easier if I had a huge bottle of conditioner.

He hands me a tiny comb from the top of the dresser.

I fight with it forever, but it’s still one big mat.

Tears begin to sting in my eyes.

They did this, the assholes. If it wasn’t for them, I could pull my hair up into a ponytail, or a bun, even a braid.

There’s a butcher knife next to the small sink. I give up.

I can feel Ford’s eerie gray eyes watching me when I start hacking the knots off. When each one falls to the floor, it feels a little more cathartic.

“Um. Do you want scissors?” He finally interrupts my sawing.

“If you have them? Can you get the ones in the back?” Swiveling, I tilt my chin down so he can reach.

He doesn’t move, but I can hear his breathing grow more rapid.

Is he…scared?

I twist my head around to look at him. “Are you afraid of me?”

“No.” The silver strands in his whiskers jump when he clenches the muscles of his jaw.

“Then why do you act like I have the plague or something?” Is this how life will always be after this?

I don’t want it to be.

His lips thin. “I just don’t know how to fix this.”

“There is nothing to fix, except my nasty hairdo. It would be nice if you’d stop treating me like there’s something wrong with me.” Frustration starts to rise in me. My finger stabs into my own chest. “I didn’t do anything wrong.” Flinging my arm out, I point to the distance. “It’sthem! Theydid this to me. I’m not sick, or broken. Just tired, and fucking scared that the whole world is going to act like you. That I’mtainted.” Tears sting my eyes. I try to bite back the quiver in my lip and breathe through the shudders in my inhales.

But it’s fucking hard.

I can’t swallow past the growing lump in my throat. “I didn’t even know them.” Sniffling, I manage to fight down a sob that’s struggling to escape.

Sometimes that’s the hardest part to accept. It was just the unluckiest pick of the draw, ever.

His teeth grind. “I don’t think that. Not one bit. I just feel useless, that I should be out there hunting them down. Making them pay for what they did.”

He holds the scissors by the blades, so I grab them from his fist and flip the handles back to him. “You can fix my hair. That would be better than you being out there in that shit lost andfreezing because of me.” I turn back around to face the wood stove, and squeeze my eyes shut.

This isn’t his fault.

I shouldn’t be yelling at him. He’s trying to be nice.

“I’m sorry, Ford.” My nails dig into my palms so I can keep my voice level.

“Fuck, April. Don’t apologize. I want to help, I just don’t know how.” He shifts off the bed and stands behind me.

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