“I’m sorry,” I said. “I’ve got bad news. I’ve been asked to notify you that your brother is dead.”
“Dead?”
“I’m sorry.” I was surprised to detect a note of sadness, given the tone and content of our last conversation. “He killed himself.” I thought to spare even this uncaring relative the grizzly details of his brother’s death. In fact, I was sure at that moment that I had agreed to make the call only because I believed the man would be unmoved by the news. So much for what I thought I knew.
“What?” the man said. “My brother is dead?” I could hear that he was beginning to weep.
“Is this Wallace Castlebury’s brother?” I was suddenly terrified that I had misled another man into believing his brother was dead.
“Oh, lord, poor Wallace,” he cried. “Poor, poor Wallace.”
I don’t think I was ever so confused in my life. I looked out the window that faced the barn and saw the mule emerge.
“How did he die?”
“He killed himself. If you want details, you’ll have to call the Highland sheriff’s office.” I gave him the number. “In fact, you’re supposed to call there anyway. About the body and all.”
“The body,” the man wailed.
“How did he kill himself?”
“I don’t think I’m supposed to say any more,” I said. “I’m sorry for your loss and I’m sorry to have had to give you such news.”
“Brother,” he said. “I have found the Lord Jesus Christ and brought him into my life just last week. I’m saved now and I’d like you to pray with me for my poor, poor brother, Wallace. Do you know if he found God before his death?”
“I have no idea.”
“Pray with me,” he said.
“I think you should call the sheriff’s office. Here’s that number again.” I read it off.
“Dear Jesus,” he said, as if dictating a letter. “Please find the soul of my poor lost brother and guide him into your sweet, forgiving arms. Open those beautiful gates of that beautiful heaven to him in spite of his sick and evil doings, his homosexualness and his shortcomings.” He wept loudly. “And help me stay away from the substances, you know the ones I mean, so that I might serve you better. In your name, Jesus-God-Almighty, amen.”
“Okay, one more time, here’s that number.” I gave him the number one last time and hung up. I was exhausted. I felt as though I had been chased by a cougar.
I picked up the phone again. This time I called Morgan and invited her over for a ride into the desert. She seemed puzzled by the quality of my invitation and so I said, “I think I need some company and I don’t think Gus is it.” Thinking that was not exactly romantic, I added, “And I’d really like to see you. I’d like to try that kissing thing one more time. If that’s okay.”
She said she’d think about it, but we could certainly go for a ride.
The sun didn’t have to compete with any clouds and so my jacket was off and stuffed into my saddlebag. I rode Felony and I put Morgan on my Appaloosa. She hadn’t trailered her horse to my place for fear that there might still be some icy patches on the highway. My mare needed the exercise anyway. We rode up high and got really cold. Morgan asked me about the cave.
“It’s not far from here,” I told her.
“Care to show me?”
“I don’t know.” Felony snorted and stepped uneasy and I knew he was feeling my tension. I slowed my breathing and he went off the muscle. “Why do you want to go there?” I asked.
“I’m just curious to see it.”
“We don’t have flashlights,” I said.
“I just want to see where the damn cave is, John. But if you don’t want to show me. .”
“That’s not it.” I wheeled Felony about on his haunches. “Come on, let’s go. Over the ridge and facing the desert.”
On the way, she said, “It’s bad about that Castlebury.”
I agreed.
“I don’t want to talk or think about him, though.”
“Why do you say that?” I asked.
“I know you’re thinking about him.”
“A little,” I said.
“Well, I don’t want to.”
“Okay,” I said. “What do you want to think about?”
“Us,” she said.
“I can do that.”
“See to it then,” she said. She laughed then kicked the mare and trotted away from me. Morgan was right about most things, mainly because she was patient. She’d been patient with me, that was for sure. She was smart and she lived hard.
At the entrance to the cave, we dismounted. I tied Felony by wedging a knot between two boulders. The App would stand on a dropped rein. We walked inside several yards.
“Wow,” Morgan said. “This really is a cave.”
“It stays this big for a while, then it branches a couple times. One of the branches opens into quite a large cavern. I’ve found only one tight spot. Tight for me anyway. I haven’t gone through it yet.”
“You are getting a little chunky there.” Morgan poked her index finger at my belt buckle.
“Watch out, sister,” I said. I caught her hand and pulled her to me. I felt excited and stupid. I kicked myself inside, realizing that any thoughts of Susie now were indulgent and convenient. I toyed with the lie that I was afraid of hurting her, so I kicked myself again. I looked at her eyes. “You understand, of course, that I’m basically stupid.”
“I noticed that right away.”
“I also have very strong feelings for you, ma’am.”
“So, you’re not completely stupid.”
“Apparently not.” I leaned forward and put my lips on Morgan’s. I closed my eyes this time. I pulled back. “Thank you, ma’am.”
“Anytime.”
“So, let’s get out of here.”
Morgan shook her head and looked back into the cave. “Let’s go in a little deeper.”
“We don’t have a light,” I told her.
“So what?”
“Okay, let’s go.”
We walked in about thirty yards and made the first bend. Once around it, everything was pitch dark.
“Jesus,” Morgan said. “I’ve never seen it so dark.”
“That’s a funny way to put it.”
“So, why don’t we try that kiss again?” she asked.
I felt her breath on my chin as I reached around her. She was different in the complete dark, but I could still feel the beauty of her face. We kissed again, this time more urgently. This time I felt my lips soften more to hers. I touched her face. Morgan put her hand between us, placed her palm flat against my chest, then brushed down my body to below my belt. She put her open hand against my penis and pressed into me. I kissed her harder, finding the tip of her tongue with mine. I thought to be afraid, to become shy, but I let that go, smelling her hair in the dark, feeling the warmth of her breath on my ear and neck. I opened her jacket and shirt and touched her breasts. I thought that they seemed smaller in the dark and I liked that. I ran my hands up and around her neck, loving the heat of her skin. In the dark we were clumsy with our clothes, but we got them off, enough of them off, and Morgan and I made love, my backside on my jacket on the cool floor of the cave, she sitting on me. We didn’t say anything, but I listened to every sound she made, every breath she let out, every click she made with her fingernails. The fingernail clicking, a nervous action between thumb and forefinger I had witnessed before, in the light, when she was thinking. And behind that sound was the forever-there dripping of the cave’s water. When she came, at least I thought she came, a wave of fear like none I’d felt in a long while washed over me, made me shudder. I guess to her it felt like I had come. We stopped moving and lay there, her palms flat against my chest, my hands on her waist.