Page 16 of Hearts Etched in Glass
Kenneth storms into my space, pinning me up against the wall by the throat.
“We are to stand united. That is the one directive that Everett gave me, and I will not fail him. Do you understand?” I try to talk, but it is rather difficult with his hand wrapped around my bloody throat. So, I beginslapping at it rapidly. He lets go as I try to shove him back, but the man is a disgusting brick wall.
“That little fucker wanted to get a reaction. He wanted to push Bobby and test us,” Baba remarks with her head resting atop her hands as she sits, staring shrewdly at the wall.
“Why on earth would he do that? Because he is Bobby’s age and an entitled wanker?” Kenneth sits back down at the head of the table, staring at a painted portrait of Baba and our grandfather with their prized horse.
“What were their names again?” I ask, rubbing my hands together and regaining my seat at the table.
Kenneth shrugs his shoulders, “The McKinley family. I can’t remember, might as well call them Rich Prick, Wanker and Bellend. Well, they all are rich bellends. Generations of wealth and privilege came from selling automobile parts, and then they moved into military machines. The Great War helped bolster their opulence, but we are far more blessed than them.” A prideful smile adorns his features as his confidence engulfs the room, nearly smothering us.
The irritation climbing my spine makes me want to smoke a cigarette. No, it makes me want to domore. I shake my head from side to side, as my leg bounces erratically.
“We need to be careful of them. I don’t like how this feels,” Baba says, then she looks up at me, and clutches my bouncing leg with a death grip. “I know you felt it too.”
Chapter 8: Bobby
Born to Be Wild,Steppenwolf
After the meeting I head to the stables. The stress immediately melts away as I change into my jeans, stable boots and white T-shirt that is riddled with holes. Over the past few months, I’ve decided to try and become a cowboy in my spare time.
To be honest, I should have done this sooner. Especially when I thought Tilly had passed. Maybe I wouldn’t be such a mess of a human. I help Roger shovel horse shit and the other chores pertaining to the barn, then he helps me ride. I’ve nearly been able to get myhorse perfectly around a barrel, but he still needs some more coercing, for he is as stubborn as his rider.
Snatch is an Arabian that raced for us, and had won numerous events in his career, but when he was done with his life of racing, he sure as hell let us know. He gave his non-verbal resignation letter by stopping mid-race and staring at the crowd in the stands. His big brown eyes were full of murderous intent and I swear if he had fingers he would have flipped the middle one to everyone in the stands that day. My mother wanted the horse to be put down, but luckily Everett told her to “get fucked.” Granted I’m the one laughing, since the horse is alive, training with me and she was put in the ground by my hands. Well, by the adders I collectively placed in her luggage.
She was such a fucking cunt.
I spy Snatch’s long, black main and shiny onyx coat gleaming in the sunlight of the round corral as he comes trotting towards me. His long, handsome face leans over the railing, sniffing my arms and neck to give me a quick greeting and search for any snacks. I usually bring the spoiled bastard carrots or apples, but today I’ve brought sugar cubes. I’ll be damned if today isn’t the day I gethim round a barrel, then soon enough we will be racing around several barrels and kicking up dust.
“Hold on, you impatient bastard. I got them in my pocket.” As I pull out the small cubes, he gives me a whinny and stomps his front hoof. Thank God this creature doesn’t talk because I believe he would be cursing me out, if not everyone he meets, like some cretin. I’m surprised Baba hasn’t taken it upon herself to make him her familiar.
There is the sound of footsteps on the gravel near me, and I turn to find Roger. He is a teenager that works with us. The bloke has been through hell and back, especially defending this farm after a rival gang tried to light everything on fire. We had dubbed him a part of the Adder family and he even changed his last name to ours. When I peer down to see the burnedAon his forearm, a sense of pride washes over me. He has his usual midnight combat boots on, a white shirt and black trousers with braces.
“How ya doing Rog?” I turn to give him a half-hug with one arm, as Snatch continues to lick my palm.
“I’m great, yourself? You take a look at the Bible I gave you?” Ever since Baba remarked that I needed areligion, I decided to inquire around town. Turns out there are more religions than I realized and some are pretty overwhelming.
The bookshop owners, John and Chala, practice Hinduism. Which is a very interesting religion, full of life and many deities. But much like the Norse mythology Baba follows, I can’t remember all those names. Watch my dumb ass piss off a God and then get struck by lightning, syphilis, or my penis falls off. I just can’t take that chance. My track record of pissing people off, let alone a deity, wouldn’t look too great.
Marcus’s mother owns the jewelry shop where I got Tilly’s engagement rings. She is catholic, but when I approached them about the religion they didn’t take me seriously.
When Roger heard about my attempts to research a religion, he came running up to me with a Bible in hand when I was visiting the stables. He was overjoyed that I would listen and learn about the gospel of Jesus Christ, and tried to dictate small Bible verses he thought I would enjoy.
A great example of the two I adore are Romans 12:19:Beloved, never avenge yourselves, but leave room for God’swrath, for it is written, “Vengeance is mine, I will repay,” says the Lord.
Then,Joshua 1:9:Be strong and courageous. Do not be frightened, and do not be dismayed, for the Lord your God is with you wherever you go.
Granted, I hope to God he wasn’t with us the night Marcus, Tilly and I fooled around. Well, if he was, then he must not be that disappointed, for we’d probably be turned to stone. Or is it a burning bush? I forgot.
“I have thoroughly enjoyed reading about the different personalities of God. Hopefully, I don’t end up on his naughty list, since I’m such a sinner.” I smile at Roger, clapping my hand on his shoulder.
“Nah boss. God forgives; that’s why Jesus died. To save us from our sins. Ms. Tilly is kind of like Jesus. She rose from the dead, maybe longer than three days, but she is kind, giving, heals people at the hospital.” I stop him, snaking my hand from his shoulder and up to cup over his mouth.
“My dear boy please stop, for I do not want to picture Jesus every time I snog my fiancé. Please, I beg of you,” I state dramatically and Roger laughsunderneath my palm, nodding his head. Then I remove my hand and go back to Snatch, rubbing his jaw.
“Ready to try again with the barrel? I got it set up.” Roger enters the corral and I see Snatch immediately gravitate to the young man. Snatch had a hard time when he first came to the stables, leaving a nice scar on Roger and Biscuit’s bodies, but as time has passed, he has grown to love and protect Roger. Hell, he would bite me anytime I stood too close to Roger, and neigh in my direction.
I enter the corral and begin to saddle Snatch. He stands tall, his sinewy muscles making him look tough and formidable. Clutching the leather reins, I caress his neck and give him a briefing on what I’d like to do within the corral. I do this every time in the hope that one day Snatch will listen, but Roger just shakes his head in disbelief at my antics. We begin galloping around the circle with warm up laps. My thighs tense as I stay upright in the saddle, maintaining my balance. As we gain speed, I get ready to pull the reins, urging Snatch to turn abruptly and possibly round the barrel, but instead he slows down and makes a wide turn. I try another circle around the corral and instead of encircling anything,he runs forward towards the metal gate. Then Snatch decides to not listen at all and begins serpentine motions in the corral. Which would work great if he would do that in short, fast loops around a barrel, rather than mocking me. I try several more times until I’m out of breath, then kick my heels at his sides forcing him to stop. I abruptly jump off Snatch and stand beside him. I grab his long snout and look him in the eye. “Look, can we just round one bloody barrel. Once. That is all. So, I may feel like a cowboy for two seconds? I will give you these.” I pull out more sugar cubes in my pocket, and Snatch stomps and nods his head.
