âEverything will be okay. Weâll sort it all out. The vet will help.â
âMy dad will hit the roof about the vet. He already thinks horses are too expensive.â
Kansas nods. âLetâs take it a stage at a time then. She wonât do an extensive workup without authorization anyway. I called her office. She could come tomorrow. Any chance youâll be out by then?â
I shrug.
A croaky voice emanates from the other side of the curtain, âYou better not be out by then. You have to stay in here with me.â
âTaylor!â I yell. I grab the rail of my bed, lean out as far as I can and whip back the curtain. It slides two feet and stops. Kansas has to get up and open it the rest of the way.
Taylor is lying flat out, her right leg propped on a pile of pillows. Fortunately her foot is so thickly wrapped with bandages that no one could tell there was a crucial piece missing. I wonder if Taylor remembers. A thin tube snakes from two bags on an IV pole and disappears under a patch of white tape on the back of her hand.
âTaylor, how are you feeling?â I say.
Taylorâs eyes are half-closed. âI dunno. The drugs are good I think.â
Kansas is looking wide-eyed at Taylorâs foot, then mouths at me, âDoes she know?â I give her a silent shrug.
Taylor peers in Kansasâs direction. âWho are you?â
âIâm Kansas, Sylviaâs riding . . . pal.â
Taylor nods vaguely. âOh yeah, Iâve heard all about you.â Then she squints, trying to focus on Kansasâs face. âHey, werenât you there yesterday? On the road?â
Kansas nods.
âI thought so,â says Taylor. She raises her leg, straight up from the mattress, with all the flexibility, strength and finesse of a dancer, and delicately repositions it on the pillows.
âOh god,â I moan.
âGood drugs, but my toe still feels very weird,â says Taylor.
I lock eyes with Kansas in a panic.
Kansas says, âMaybe I should go.â
She edges towards the door but stops dead in her tracks when I say quietly, âDonât you dare.â
Kansas resumes her perch on the very edge of my bed, still ready to flee at the first opportunity.
I almost canât believe it. Iâve somehow done a boss mare trick, on Kansas of all people, and prevented her from leaving. Of course, Iâm desperate because if Taylor doesnât know sheâs lost her toe, I donât want to be alone with her. I donât want to be the one to tell her, and I know I canât lie to Taylor. Sooner or later she will squeeze the truth out of me because Taylor is older and sheâs always done that. Sheâs always been the one in charge.
Though who knows? With my new-found boss mare skills, perhaps I could even manage Taylor.
Thereâs a light tapping sound at the doorway, and Dr. Clevelandâs head appears around the edge. âCan I come in?â She says hi to Kansas then strides in between the two beds. âSylvia, is it okay if I visit? Not everyone wants a psychiatrist in their room.â
âWe all know Sylvia sees a shrink,â says Taylor. Her words are slightly slurred, almost as though sheâs drunk, and sheâs speaking loudly as though she doesnât care what anyone thinks.
âHey, thatâs great. They put the both of you in one room,â says Dr. Cleveland. âHowâre you doing, Taylor?â
âOh fine.â She sighs dramatically. âBut my toe feels funny.â Then she giggles. âActually everything feels funny.â
Fine, I think. A medical professional can handle this. Better still that it be a psychiatrist.
âThatâs understandable,â says Dr. Cleveland.
âNo pain though, because Iâm on some really good drugs apparently.â Taylor raises her hand with the IV needle then gently tucks it back at her side.
âVery good drugs, I imagine,â says