Free Lime Creek by Joe Henry Page A

walk far down the knoll that fronts the ranch along the creek and she drinks again and then we move back along the rising slope where we can drop down through the dense wood and into the clearing. Whitney’s machine was quiet by then and I knew he had finished. He’d meet Stony back at the house and’d take him down to the meadow in the old uncovered jeep that’d also been there as long as I can remember.
    The trees are all bare, naked white trees that rise allaround us, and we walk across a silent carpet of mottled golden leaves as we pass through the wood. It’s still real cold and the breath-vapor puffs out from both of us as I walk beside her with the leadrope slack in my hand as if she knows where we’re headed, although I know it is really just the downgoing of the hillside. We finally come out of the trees at the far side of the clearing for I had glimpsed the backhoe and so have taken us the long way around as if we were trying to evade some mortal force that awaited us with a great yellow arm, which indeed we were. I walk up against her so her cheek brushes against my arm as we go. I know they’re waiting for us across the field but I’m having a difficult time turning back towards them and so we keep walking further and further away in the direction of the barn and home.
    We have walked enough so that her stride has evened out and she seems to move without any lameness at all and I dwell on her familiar innocent face as it swings up against me with her step. As we approach the rise of the hill that climbs up to the lowest corral I will myself to turn away and we move quickly back towards where the jeep and the machine are parked and where the two men await us. Whitney comes over to me as I approach and takes the leadrope from my hand and moves a few steps off with the mare as she begins grazing.Stony is leaning against the jeep and begins to fix a syringe with the contents of a vial that he’s taken from his jacket.
    Stony, I say. And he says, Mornin Luke. I’m awful sorry. And the way he says “awful” goes straight through me as I look at him working with his gear and I’m reminded of what a kind and gentle man he is behind all his gruffness, and that for all the years I’ve known him I have never seen him be harsh with an animal. I suddenly hate the look of his instrument though and without looking up he says, It’s the best way son. You know me and your pap come from the old school of getting things done, but this is the best way. She’ll just kneel down in the grass and then lie over and be done with it.
    And I say, Just as long as it’s quick enough so it won’t be a hurt to her. And he says, Don’t you worry son. This here is enough for two animals her size and I’m giving her all of it. If’n she feels anything at all it’ll be the first moment in all this time when she wasn’t hurting.
    Whitney brings her alongside the deep slash he’s dug in the raw earth with the backhoe and hands me the leadrope. And I’m holding her face against me, my fingers under the straps of the headstall and my thumbs rubbing at the soft corners of her mouth which was something she always liked. Stony moves next to her andrubs his left hand flat along the length of her neck and suddenly jabs the needle that he’s holding with his other hand into the vein that runs there, and there’s a bright instant of blood that he closes off with the syringe. Then he depresses the plunger and almost immediately one of her forelegs starts to bend as I keep her great head against me trying to hold her upright even as she crumbles under me and rolls onto her side with her legs facing the hole.
    Stony kneels down and feels at her chest and says, She’s gone boys. Her heart’ll beat on for a few more moments but it’ll just be the reflex. Whitney kneels down and replaces Stony’s hand with his as Stony stands back up and says, I’m gonna run up to my vehicle. I meant to bring a scalpel to dissect the top of her