Sliding On The Edge by C. Lee McKenzie Page A

scuff my way inside after him. “What
is it?”
    “ Casey.”
    “ I’m only asking because I
can’t call you Sunday Boy all the time.”
    “ Oh, yeah? I didn’t know you
called me anything at all.”
    Why do I care about his
name? Why am I even bothering to talk to him?
    He hooks the lead to the gray and
brings her outside, where he ties her off. I stand back as he
paints some smelly ointment all over her feet and then soaps her
front to back with warm suds. He hoses her down and scrapes the
water off her front, sides and rear. Then he dries her legs with a
towel. So many steps, and he’s careful with each one, like what
he’s doing is the most important job in the world. He works on
horses a lot like Kenny does, and the gray stands easy under his
hands. She trusts him, knows she’s safe. I watch while he pulls a
mask over her face and sprays her with some stuff that Kenny says
helps keep the flies away. When he finishes, he turns her out to
pasture, to have her Sunday the way she wants it.
    Another question bubbles to the
surface before I can stop it. “Have you always worked with
horses?”
    “ Since I could walk. We
still have a couple, but my dad had to sell some off. Too
expensive.” He looks down at me. “How about you?”
    “ Never. Well, not until I
came here.”
    “ You’re lucky you’re here.
Kay’s got a nice place and her boarders take good care of their
horses. Not like over there.” He nods toward Drunk Floyd’s. “Nobody
does anything for those guys. I expect they’ll end up in Texas one
of these days.”
    “ Not my favorite state.” I
remember that week in Houston and the motel from hell with
armor-plated cockroaches scuttling in the dark corners. After Mom
turned the lights off, their beetle legs clicked across the
linoleum, coming to get me under the sheets. I stole a flashlight
the first chance I got, and every night I shined it down the side
of my bed. It still grosses me out to think about them creeping
across my toes on my way to pee.
    “ It won’t be those horses’
favorite state either.”
    It’s the way he says it that sounds
creepy and makes me want to know what he means. I chew on the
inside of my mouth before I ask, “Why won’t they like Texas? I
didn’t think horses cared where they lived.”
    “ Oh, they won’t live there
long. A few days maybe. A while back they’d have ended up in a can
for Buster’s dinner. Now I think they ship the meat to Canada or
Europe.”
    Horse in a can! I’m glad he’s walking
into the tack room and hasn’t stopped to look at me. It’s like I’ve
suddenly shown up naked in public and have nowhere to hide. If I’d
been in front of Tuan’s mirror, I’d have seen the face Monster
always sees, fear scribbled all over it.
    I have to put my head down between my
knees or I know I’m going to topple over. My stomach’s a washer
going into an out-of-kilter spin, my head has a rope cinched tight
around it and it throbs. When I stand up again, I look across at
Drunk Floyd’s.
    Magic pokes his head through the
rails, looking at me, waiting for me to come to him.
    I take a few steps toward
him. No. Stop .
    “ I can’t waste my time on
you anymore,” I yell. “You’re horse meat on the hoof.”
    My voice must sound different to him,
because he ducks out from between the rails and shambles
away.
    “ Magic. I . . . Forget it.
You’re history, so why waste my time?” I start toward the
house.
    “ Do you say mean things to
everyone and everything?” Casey calls after me.
    “ What’s it to you?” I look
over my shoulder.
    He shakes his head and goes back into
the barn.
    I see more of his back
than anything else. Jerk.
     

Chapter 24
    Shawna
     
    One cool thing about Sweet River High
is the wide grassy spot with the big trees and picnic tables.
Everybody calls it The Park. As long as the weather stays good,
lots of kids eat lunch or hide behind the tree trunks, sucking on
each others’ faces. Mr. Green gets his exercise every