Free Ripples Through Time by Lincoln Cole

Greenwood
How did we let that happen?
     
    “How bad did it get?” I ask. “If you don’t mind my
asking.”
    Calvin waves noncommittally. “Bad. Mostly about money.”
    “Isn’t it always?”
    “Most people argue about money,” he agrees.
    “I know me and my wife do. Not often, but it gets
bitter.”
    “I was stubborn,” Calvin says. “I thought I could handle
things with the horses. It took me a long time to learn that the horses weren’t
going to pay the bills. I guess it took me a while to grow up. To stop buying
my toys and wasting time.”
    “You figured it out,” I say. “That’s more than can be
said for a lot of people.”
    “At a great cost,” Calvin replies. “To Rickie…”
     
***
     
    “I’m hungry,” Rickie said, grabbing his stomach. His mom
dragged him along through the fairgrounds at the racetrack. They weaved past a
family of six and around a puddle of water on the ground from a recent rain.
    The scents of cooking food wafted in the air, enticing in
their complexity.  Right now he would have eaten them, even the fried
vegetables he hated so much. Even they seemed good.
    “I know,” his mom said. She was dressed in trousers and a
loose fitting blouse. Her hair was hastily drawn back into a bun and loose
strands of black hair fluttered across her face. “I’m hungry too.”
    Rickie groaned. “When can we get something to eat?”
    “Tonight,” Emily said, then smiled down at him. It was a sad
smile. “Tonight we can have a big dinner.”
    “Why not now?” Rickie asked. He pointed at one of the stands
with funnel cakes and fresh squeezed lemonade. “They’re selling stuff in that
booth right there.”
    Emily dragged him past, weaving her way through the crowd.
She didn’t respond, pretending she never even heard him. He was used to his
parents pretending they didn’t hear him when they didn’t like what he had to
say.
    It was a cloudy day with the sun only making the briefest of
appearances. At least it wasn’t too cold this late in the season. His dad said
that was a good thing, and he agreed. He really, really didn’t like snow.
    The place was packed and they had to stop to let large
groups pass. Emily looked neither right nor left, studiously ignoring the
entertainment around her. Rickie couldn’t believe her. It wasn’t fair to bring
him to the excitement and activity of the fairground and deprive him of any
enjoyment. He loved coming to the fair, and usually he got to play games with
his mom and eat while his dad raced his horses.
    But now she wasn’t letting him do  anything.  That
was like torture.
    There was delicious smelling food everywhere around them.
That was part of why he enjoyed the county fairs so much: caramel apples, corn
dogs, funnel cakes. They had the best treats.
    But his mom kept telling him that he couldn’t have any of
it.
    They moved through the midway quickly, passing the booths
and grandstand and weaving around the turn in the track. They were heading for
the barns on the far side, along the backstretch. That’s where his father was
at, getting ready for the eighth race when Mountaineer was up.
    Emily pulled Rickie to a stop near the race entrance,
letting a few horses move past them onto the tracks. There were a dozen out
there right now, some jogging to stay loose, some doing warm up laps or
sprints. The driver’s wore colorful uniforms, some green, some blue, usually
backed with white or gray. Someday Rickie would grow up and be a professional
race driver. And he would be the best driver around.
    “Calvin,” Emily called, rushing across when the crowd
thinned out. Rickie spotted his father up ahead, sitting on a tack trunk and
feeding Jason.
    Baby Jason had his eyes closed. He wasn’t even one year old.
Rickie was almost four. He’d liked Jason at first when his parents brought him
home. He was neat. But after a while, he just got annoying. He cried a lot,
wouldn’t shut up no matter  how  many times you told him to,