"Forever in My Heart" Pt. 01

There wasn't too much to do. He'd do his brother's horses early and then certainly later in the afternoon he'd see to Chelsea. Emit, his brother was still heavily into shavings and saw dust and such. Straw would be cheaper, but Emit had his ways. Yeah, up with the birds, muck the stalls, drop in a flake of hay and he'd be done for the day, except for Chelsea.

Later, after Easter, maybe Tuesday, he'd thoroughly clean the stalls including areas outside. He'd wipe things down with a little chlorinated water, and spread a little lime on the damp spots. He did that daily anyway.

Maybe Monday he'd take the back hoe and haul off the manure. He'd dump it someplace for a little nitrogen later on. Then it was off to one of the pastures. Currying and other concerns weren't his concern, though checking hooves and the sides of the stalls were. A couple of the horses weren't very fastidious and they'd lie down in their own shit; those he'd clean up. Overall not a lot of work, but Emit paid him well.

Colton pulled his truck in the small driveway beside his mother's house. He thought about the lawyer. What was her name? Madeline? Madeline what? He pulled her card from his pocket, Madeline, Ms. Madeline V. Westerbrook, Esq. - Esquire! That was something; not just, Ms. Madeline V. Westerbrook, it had to be Madeline Esquire, Madeline the lawyer. She didn't think too much of herself did she? Wonder what the V stood for? Vixen, or maybe veloci-raptor? Probably venereal disease.

He changed his mind; she was pretty, very pretty actually. He looked at himself as he passed by the hall mirror. He looked pretty good too. He wondered, if he took her out a few times, 'How long would it take before she figured him out, before she realized what a loser he was. Smart girl like her; maybe two, three dates?'

Colton heard shallow breathing from the living room. It had to be Chelsea. He walked in and took a peak. She was fast asleep on the old sofa, mouth open, thin line of drool hanging from her lips, glasses had fallen off her face. Poor girl, could barely see.

She was dressed in her best outfit, a plane brown jumper, beige blouse, and brown shoes. It all looked a little frayed. 'Damn', he recalled, 'it was Maundy Thursday. Chelsea had said something about church. He bet neither of their moms remembered. Chelsea didn't get out much; being diabetic and prone to all the side effects of Hypoglycemia, worse than many in her situation, she didn't have her license so she couldn't legally drive. That dependency weighed heavily on her, and on him. Then there was the heart thing, always something.

He gave her a closer look, 'If only she were healthy. If only she wasn't such a damn bitch. If only she wasn't his... well she was.'

He wondered if his mom had given Chelsea her meds. Should he carry her upstairs or just leave her where she was? That was a 'no brainer'; couldn't leave her downstairs.

Dropping his jacket on the floor he leaned down and whispered, "Hey Chelsea. You awake?"

Chelsea lifted one heavy lid, "Colt?"

"Yeah, did mom give you your meds?"

Chelsea half yawned and looked around, "Church..."

"You missed it, you fell asleep."

"Oh."

"Did you get your meds?"

She squinted up at her cousin, she wiped her eyes, "Don't know, I think so. Where are my..."

"They're here on the floor," He handed her the glasses she wore, "Where's mom?"

Chelsea managed to sit up, "Oh your mom, I think she went out. Mine's upstairs."

Colton thought, 'That figures. He bet his mom was out with one of her truck driver friends. Chelsea's mom was most likely upstairs passed out from whatever it was she was taking these days.' He leaned down, got his arms under his cousin's frail little frame, "Come on, let's get you to bed."

She reached up and wrapped her arms around his neck, "Will you stay and sleep with me tonight?"

She looked frazzled, agitated, he asked, "Feel a nightmare coming on?"

She nodded.

He pulled her up as he stood up. Her request wasn't sexual; it was just her, "I don't know. We'll see," the look on her face betrayed her fear, he whispered "I guess so, at least until I'm sure you'll be OK. You are OK?"

She pushed her head beneath his chin, "When I'm with you I am."

He carried her up the narrow stairway to her bedroom. As he walked up she asked, "If I take a shower and wash my hair will you brush it for me?"

Colton sighed, "Yes, I guess so."

Together, they trooped upstairs.

For the next several minutes Chelsea showered while Colton skimmed though his "Foreign Affairs" magazine. Coming out in her thread bare cotton nightie she knelt on the floor while Colton brushed and combed her hair.

Sure he loved her, but sometimes, a lot of times, she got on his nerves. There had been times when they were younger when he occasionally wished she'd just die. It wasn't because he was mean. He figured everybody had a mean thought once in a while. It was just that no one spent any time with her except him. She depended on him for everything. When he was out he half jumped every time his cell phone sang; he just never knew. Their moms weren't like him; they were indifferent, that wasn't true; his mom was indifferent, her mom was downright hostile, she hated her daughter. He knew why too, and he knew it wasn't fair.

After a while he leaned over and asked, "Ready for bed?"

"OK," she looked up at him, "You said..."

"I did and I will," he got up, pulled down her sheets, the sheets he'd changed that morning, "Now in you go."

She flounced about a little, tiny breasts flip flopping as she did. She slid all the way across her twin bed. Patting the empty area she whispered, "Now you."

Colton got out of his boots and socks, pulled off his shirt and Tee shirt, dropped his jeans and climbed in. Grime and all she snuggled in against him. He encircled her with his arms. How long had he been doing this? She was just eighteen; this had been going on since she was... what four? Ever since she and her mom had come to live with them.

While Chelsea slowly drifted back to sleep Colton thought about the woman in Chambersburg again. She lived on Norland Avenue. He knew about Norland and the streets connecting. Shit, he'd been around there hundreds of times, but there was more to it than that. Emit had told him. Emit was a lot older than he was. Emit remembered things.

It seemed their mother Gloria, saint that she was, thought she could fool around and Emit's dad wouldn't find out. Emit said they'd lived in a nice home on one of the side streets off Norland Avenue, said he remembered primary school, said his dad found out their mom was pregnant again, but not from him, and that was that. That's what Emit said.

No divorce, nothing; he just up and left, moved to Cincinnati Emit said. Emit said he got presents for a while, but then that stopped. Emit said he heard from someone who knew his dad. They said his dad had taken up with another woman, had another whole family. Emit guessed that was when the presents stopped. Emit showed him some things; a puzzle of the forty-eight contiguous states. Emit never took the seal off it. Emit said when he got it he thought he'd wait and when his dad came back he and his dad would open it, take it all apart, and put it back together. Emit had some baseball cards and a baseball mitt his dad had sent. Emit said he never opened the cards, and he never used the mitt. Emit said when he was younger he used to sit out in front of their house and wait for his dad to come home. Emit said maybe he and his dad would play catch then. Emit never talked about his dad much, not anymore anyway.

Colton had his own dad, but nobody knew who he was. Some said it was the Jewish man who owned a dry good store in Greencastle. Others said he was a man who drove one of the big milk trucks. Then there were those who said it was some rich man who'd lived across from where his mom and Emit originally lived in Chambersburg. Colton didn't know who his father was; figured he never would. He did know one thing; when he got married, if he did, he'd marry someone who'd be faithful, someone he could trust. Never met anyone like that. All the women and girls he'd ever met turned out to be whores; that included Louisa, Brian's wife. He'd fucked her, fucked her a lot, but that had been before she started dating Brian.

The lawyer, Madeline Winterstock? No Westbrook; maybe he'd give her a call, take her Brian's party. Wouldn't that make Brian and Rick eat the cake? He thought about the looks she gave him. She was hungry. He thought he could smell her when they were in his truck, that musky erotic woman's smell, but it was most likely his imagination. He bet he could get inside her pants, but he'd have to work fast before she figured him out.

~~V~~

Friday morning came awful early. Colton had a headache. He'd slipped out of Chelsea's bed earlier and gone downstairs around 4:00 a.m. He looked in his mom's bedroom; she still wasn't home. He fed Heidi and let her out; old as she was she never went far from the back door. On his second cup of coffee he heard Chelsea fumbling around upstairs. It was close to 6:00 a.m. He went to the bottom of the steps, "Chelsea you up?"

"Yeah, be down in a minute."

"Hurry up. Coffee's on. Put on your boots, wear something warm. I'll muck out the stalls, and then we'll take a ride." If there was one thing Chelsea could do, she could ride, not one of the big ones, but Princess, an older brown mare. Colton knew Emit had only bought her because she was small and gentle enough for Chelsea.

Chelsea came down dressed in a red flannel shirt and a pair of old jeans, hair back in a ponytail, no makeup. She looked like a kid, maybe twelve years old.

Colton pulled out a chair, "Sit while I give you your shot."

Chelsea sat down, lowering her shirt off her shoulder so Colton could stab her.

Colt was always gentle with Chelsea. Her mom and his mom weren't so gentle. After wiping her arm with an alcohol swab he slid the needle in, "There we go. Ready for coffee?"

Chelsea nodded.

They drank their unsweetened coffee, and had some scrambled eggs. He got up, tossed the plates in the sink for his mom to clean later, "Off we go," he said.

Chelsea got her coat and followed him out the door. They both climbed in the truck.

"Hooked in?' he asked.

"All hooked," she said.

On the way to the stables Chelsea started in on one of her usual routines; they mostly centered on what she'd major in when she went to college, what additional electronic stuff she needed, how maybe in college she'd be able to play sports so Colt could come watch her, and then the biggie, who and what kind of man she'd marry. Both of them knew, at least he did, she'd never get to college, her grades and SATs had been good enough, but there just wasn't any money. Prospects for any kind of athletic activity weren't good; her being diabetic, the anemia, and her other physical frailties from that long ago accident. She was good with the electronics, but it was always the marriage thing that she liked the most; it was what irked him the most.

"Colt," she said, "sure we're cousins and all, but we could still get married."

He silently groaned, 'That again,' and then said, "Chelsea you know how I feel about that."

"Come on Colt. I know you love me, and you know I love you. We'd be good together. We could have lots of babies."

He hated this conversation. They had it about once a week. She knew he had no plans on marrying anyone, not for a long time anyway. They both knew she had no real future; she was lucky she'd lived as long as she had. And of course, the thing she didn't know, a thing only he knew, not even their moms. Chelsea, because of that long ago accident could never have children. How had he found out? Their family doctor had checked her once; it was part of her record, a part only he'd seen, her poor little cervix was all twisted out of shape or some such shit like that. No, she was a dead end, she just didn't know it, and he swore she'd never find out.

"Colt," she intruded on his thoughts again, "it wouldn't really be totally incest. I mean..."

"Damn it Chelsea. Shut the fuck up. We're never getting married. I might marry someday, but it won't be you."

She turned, looked out the window, and sighed. This conversation always ended up with him yelling at her. That was one of the ways she knew he loved her, a proof he might marry her someday. All she had to do was prove...

He drove the truck up to the barn, "You get out and walk around. Drive the tractor or something. I'll only be a little while, then we can go riding."

Chelsea slid down from the truck and loped over to the tractor. She enjoyed driving it around the yard and in the fields. Maybe she'd drive it up to Emit's; he had a big house, she knew it was nice though she seldom got to go inside. Emit's wife was funny about some things.

Emit's house was actually his wife's. Emit had met his wife, Irma, when they were both in community college. After two years Irma went on to Franklin-Marshall. Emit went to work for her dad. They got married when she graduated. When Irma's dad got hurt on some machinery her dad and mom moved to Florida. It was Irma's farm; Emit just ran it. They seemed happy enough; no children though. Chelsea thought, 'If she was married she'd have kids, lots of kids. If she married Colt they'd have the best kids...'

She looked down the field, Colt was waving at her. She checked her watched. The time had really flown; he must be done. She spun the tractor around and started down the hill. Now they'd go riding!

~~V~~

Dorothy gave Madeline a call late Friday afternoon. Madeline picked up on the first ring, "Hello Dorothy; what's up?

"Got a call from Jenny about your plans. Sounds silly to me."

"Well I guess it is silly," replied Madeline, "but I think it could be fun just as long as it doesn't get back to the office."

"He's that big a cretin?" asked Dorothy.

"I don't know yet. He doesn't seem real ambitious. I wonder if I could give him some inspiration. It could be fun."

"I think you already said that the other night," added Dorothy, "but what if while you're inspiring him he falls for you?"

Madeline laughed, "That would be his problem?" She thought on that possibility, 'she'd never tried to get involved with a man just to get him to fall in love. But so what if he did? What would she do? Laugh probably.'

There'd been a couple guys from law school; more than a couple if she bothered to count, who'd, what do they say, 'fallen for her'. Glenn had fallen for her. She'd broken his heart. She felt guilty about Glenn for a little while. He started out like a man, strong, self-confident, but ended up a whimpering jellyfish, a jellyfish without any sting.' She could still hear his goofy entreaties, "Oh please Maddie. Maddie don't do this..." She'd lost all respect for him; even laughed at him in the end.

Then there'd been the black kid; what was his name Dar, d'Artagnan. He was fun for a little while, but turned out to be just another asshole. Used to brag about his big dick. He was stupid; he fell in love. He was nice, but not that nice, she remembered she'd had bigger, and better too! No, she was no 'size queen'. He cracked in the end. She recalled when she told him it was time to break up he couldn't believe it.' What'd he say, "You'd leave me. You'd say good bye to me and my big anaconda?"

She remembered laughing, she'd told him, "Come on you're not that much. Besides if I needed a really 'big one' I'd buy a horse," not that she'd ever actually would. He'd cracked, big strong self-confident d'Artagnan cried like a baby. She remembered imitating him while he cried; he'd turned into a spineless wimp. Men, they're all the same.

Madeline wondered, 'So, what about this Colt, or whatever his name was? Could she break his heart? She chuckled to herself, 'bet she could, bet he had it coming. They all had it coming. Why not?'

Dorothy on the other end of the call yelled, "Madeline you still there?"

"Yes I'm here," was her reply, "What're we doing tonight?"

"I'm not doing anything. You have a date with Brad, remember?"

"Oh yeah, Brad," she thought, 'time to cut him off,' "Dorothy," she said, "Think I'll toss Brad back tonight. Think I'll reel in the 'Red Neck'.

Dorothy laughed on the other end, "Madeline you are a 'Grade A' bitch."

Dorothy and Madeline both flipped their phones off. Madeline looked at herself in the mirror, "Madeline my dear, let's break Brad's heart tonight, and if our 'riding teacher' calls, and I bet he will, I'll tear his heart a new ass too. I feel like being a bitch." She giggled malevolently, "I'll rip it right out of his body!" Still staring at the mirror she talked on, "I bet this Colt fellow probably thinks his shit doesn't stink. Yes, let's do him. Let's do him up right!"

Leaving the mirror she skipped up the steps to find Errol. All the way up she hummed, "Kick em when they're up, kick em when they're down..."

~~V~~

It was later Friday night when Chelsea and Colt got home. They'd had a busy day doing nothing.

They'd been horseback riding in late morning, and returned home after a MacDonald's fish sandwich. That afternoon, failing to get Chelsea to take a nap, he'd let her go off to the small uninviting living room/den where he'd set up her computer and other paraphernalia. Colt spent the rest of his time doing a couple loads of laundry, tidying his and her rooms, checking the fluids on his truck, and cleaning up the riding mower and weed whacker. Dinner was a tasteless stir fry his mom made. Chelsea's mom helped. After dinner he let Chelsea talk him into taking her to the Good Friday service; hardly anybody was there.

Going to church was always an ordeal for Colt, but Chelsea seldom missed. He supposed it had to do with some of the close calls she'd had. She'd re-pressed her brown jumper and blouse. He thought he ought to take her somewhere so she could get something new for Easter; that most likely meant a trip to Walmart. He guessed he'd take her after he did the horses; it had to be late afternoon though because he'd scheduled lessons for some elementary school kid.

Going anywhere with Chelsea had an unnerving quality; he could never quite get used to it. First it was always sort of depressing; she was pretty, most of the time bubbly and effervescent, like a happy child on her first trip to the zoo. On the other hand she never had anything to wear, nothing nice, and then there was the other thing, that other problem... he just never knew. One minute she'd be happy, singing, skipping about, and then, just like that, she could collapse, just fall off the charts, have a seizure, break out in a cold sweat on a hot summer day, or simply drop out, fall into unconsciousness. He knew; one day she'd die on him. It bothered him; it would bother anybody.

So yeah, they'd gone to church. The place was almost empty, maybe twenty people, and that included seven choir members. He had to listen to the Pastor drone on and on about Gethsemane, Pontius Pilot, Peter, Mary and John and so forth. It was Pastor Bob, Pastor Robert McShane; he'd been at Saint Paul's since Colt was eleven, never missed a single sermon, that man had faith.

Colt had to sit beside Chelsea and listen to her sing; such a beautiful voice, light, high and clear, just listening to her, "Lord listen to your children praying, Lord send your spirit in this place..." 'Yeah beautiful,' he thought, 'but someday...well. Yeah depressing.'

After church there was always someone, usually one of the old widows; gone back to school yet Colt? Found the right girl? Still taking care of Chelsea I see. Why don't you, or you should...?" They never let up.

He looked Chelsea over as she climbed into bed, "Chelsea how about we go buy you a new dress for Easter?"