Free Sliding On The Edge by C. Lee McKenzie Page A

you come over here or I eat this damned
apple.”
    He swishes his tail and eyes
me.
    “ Okay, I’m lying down. The
apple’s yours, but you gotta make the move.” I stretch out and put
the apple on my stomach.
    The sun is hot and the weeds
prickle my back and my legs. I wonder what creepy Tuan is up to
right now? And Mom. What’s she doing? I think about her dark hair
and the way it used to shine after she washed it and let it dry in
the hot desert sun. When I squint my eyes real hard, I can see her
face—the plummy red she painted on her lips before she went out,
her eyes and the thick matted lashes she coated until they turned
into dark fringe. The way . . . Stop!
    Monster is combing through
the weeds and the shakes are right behind him, so I push the heels
of my hands into my eyes. Remember something else, Shawna.
Remember Mom’s face when it turned ugly on
you. Yeah!
    “ You want to be the star? Is
that it, Shawna?”
    Remember that? Mom pacing
back and forth, arms crossed, jutting her chin out and staring me
down.
    “ Well, you can’t be. You
hear? Me. I’m the star in this family.”
    She hammered me, and all I did was put
on her red dress. The veins in her neck stuck out like they might
snap, and her lips drew back so I could see her gums.
    “ All I wanted was
to—”
    “ Shut up.” She pulled back
her hand and I caught it on its way to my face. I never used to
duck. I never used to stop her. That day things changed between us.
She stepped away and put her hands on both hips. “Don’t sass me.”
She grabbed the red dress out of my hand and threw it on the bed.
“And stay the hell out of my things.”
    Yes, Shawna, remember when
your mother turned on you . The shakes are
gone.
    I feel something nudge my belly. I
almost jump to my feet, but I catch myself and keep very still. I
squint up at the great dark horse hovering over me, drawing the
apple chunks between his lips. His mouth brushes against my shirt.
The heat of his breath filters through to my skin.
    “ Yes,” I whisper.
    No .
My heart pumps in my throat.
    Get away.
    Run .
    I clench my fists as he takes more of
the apple. It’s scary.
    Why? This isn’t some . . . guy.
    Then why?
    It’s scary because . . . I swallow . . . I
like it.
    My throat feels as if it’s stuffed
with cotton balls as the horse’s warm puffs of breath flow across
my belly.
    This is not the way to
stay safe.
    Now who are you talking
to?
    I’m talking to you,
girlfriend. Listen up, Shawna!
    He finishes the apple and shies away.
I watch him disappear inside the barn.
    I sit up, but I can’t even stand. My
bones are Jell-O. Man, this is too strange. My eyes burn, and
that’s not natural for me. A little kid, maybe. Not
Shawna.
    “ Crap!” Saying that out loud
helps bring me back to normal. I push myself to my feet and swipe
my arm across my eyes.
    Drunk Floyd must have come to just
about the time I swing my leg over the fence and drop back to the
other side. He staggers out his door and down his back steps toward
his car. He yanks open the door and falls in behind the wheel. The
old stick shift groans when he shoves it into reverse, and the car
rolls backwards, sort of like it has hiccups. He’s behind the shack
now so I can’t see him. I wait, expecting to hear a major crash,
but I don’t.
    “ Friends don’t let friends
drive drunk,” I say to the fence post. “But what about people you
hate?”
    “ Shouldn’t let them drive
either.” The voice comes from next to me, and I whip around to look
straight into Sunday Boy’s blue eyes—not two feet away from me. He
leans on the fence rail.
    “ That black horse probably
was a good one a while ago. Too bad he fell into old Floyd’s hands.
Maybe you should make Floyd an offer and buy that guy.”
    “ Why would I waste good
money on a beat up old horse?”
    “ I dunno. Seems like you got
him tucked under your heart.”
    I must look blank. Nobody in this
world talks like that.
    “ That’s what my daddy