8. Spiral of Uncertainty

Spiral of Uncertainty

Hadley woke up Monday morning feeling like she was buried under a pile of bricks. It took a few extra minutes of stretching before she got out of bed. She was nervous to go downstairs, after a harrowing night, but after glancing out her window and seeing an empty driveway, she felt relieved. He must have left for an early job.

She trudged downstairs and noticed a mess scattered across the kitchen. She recognized the irony of her father yelling at her over her accidental tiny mess when he had left behind a colossal one of his own. She quickly tidied the table and moved the dishes and tumbler into the sink. She washed them and set them on the drying rack to put away later. After sweeping the floors and wiping down the table and counter, she realized the bus would be arriving soon. She no longer had time for cereal so snagged a granola bar from the pantry on her way out. She would eat it on the walk to her bus stop; better than nothing.

***

School dragged for Hadley. Too preoccupied to worry about her slipping grades or lack of friends, she cycled through waves of doubt and giddiness. Her lungs compressed when she thought about having to see her dad later, only to crack a smile when she thought about seeing the horses again. Would I have had this chance if Mom was still alive? The thought stole her smile and left a sour burn in her stomach. She could barely hear her teachers.

If her father had shown up to last month's eighth grade parent-teacher conference, he would have learned that she stared vacantly out the window or into the distance more often than not. Her teachers would have shared with him their deepest condolences for his wife but also their concerns that Hadley's hand never sought to participate and her voice wavered when she spoke. It seemed no one heard Hadley - not teachers, nor friends, nor did she have an outlet at home. Hadley's teacher would have suggested that he look into the support of a grief counselor for the girl who had lost her mom and withdrawn deep into herself. Their concerns, however, would've fallen on deaf ears. Her father did not go to the conference, spending his time only in the bottles of dimly lit oblivion that made his life tolerable.

The final bell rang and Hadley tossed her books into her backpack on the way to the collection of buses waiting idly on energetic preteens. Weaving through the buses a slight smile poked through as she remembered her banter with Dorothy over cleaning poop. She thought about how her mom would've found it just as funny. She also thought about how her mom would've rolled up her sleeves to lend a hand. Perfect didn't even begin to describe her mom. Hadley approached her bus right as her excitement was cycling back to grief. Her emotions had been a rollercoaster all day, but, not wanting to get sucked into heartache, she sat in her seat and began to recount the steps required for cleaning a stall.

***

Hadley wasted no time getting back to the farm and walked directly to the horse shelter, knowing the work she'd have to complete. The barn doors were open, so she walked over the threshold and immediately spotted Dorothy. She was in the corner pulling fresh straw from the towering mound and creating smaller stacks. With Dorothy facing away from Hadley, she noticed a few sections of hair in Dorothy's pony tail still held a jet-black tinge. That must have been her natural color. Pretty. "Hi, Dorothy!"

"Hey, dear," Dorothy said as she turned around. "Did you get a snack after school? I can grab you some cookies I baked earlier today if you're hungry. You'll use up a lot of energy gettin' these stalls tidy." The question was laced in a consideration that Hadley wasn't expecting. Her mom would've also made sure she'd eaten. It was different with her dad since it seemed like he never cared much about her wellbeing. Just last night he screamed at her claiming she ate his food. "Hadley?"

"Oh, um, sorry…" Hadley shook away the fresh sting from the night before. "I didn't grab a snack, but I had a big lunch today. Maybe later, though. Thank you for the offer." Hadley felt guilty for lying but it was easier than the truth. She had hardly eaten since her morning granola bar. The acid in her stomach churned all day and the thought of eating was nauseating.

"Alright, dear. Well, you let me know if that changes. I made oatmeal raisin." Dorothy smiled and wiggled her eyebrows.

Hadley nodded and slipped on the spare pair of muck boots that Dorothy set aside for her after noticing her white Keds the other day. Hadley had apologized and explained she didn't have any old shoes or boots but didn't mind getting her sneakers dirty. "Nonsense, dear. I have plenty of old boots layin' around. Just be careful walkin' in them as I reckon they'll be a size or so too big on ya." Hadley appreciated the generosity and was relieved she wouldn't have to hide muddy shoes from her father.

She and Dorothy spent the next two hours thoroughly cleaning all six stalls. As they progressed, Dorothy took on a smaller and smaller role, allowing Hadley to do the majority. At one point, Hadley looked up to see Dorothy sitting on a small hay bale. "It must be a relief for you to get a break," Hadley said as she continued to work.

"I try to push through, but it gets harder each week," she admitted. "I do what I hafta to keep this place runnin'. My spare change is spent on Jeremy runnin' the larger equipment from time to time, so the rest falls to me."

"That sounds exhausting."

"It sure is, but now I got some youthful energy to help me out."

Hadley smiled before grabbing some extra straw for the final stall.

Out of the corner of Hadley's eyes, she saw Dorothy's eyebrows furrow. She shifted nervously and quickly looked around trying to figure out what had displeased Dorothy. "Do the stalls look okay? I made sure to clean out all the wet straw and collected all of the manure in the wheelbarrow." Hadley pointed as she hurried through her words. "I just have to move this last pile around back where I laid the others. It might be a little heavy for me, but I can try. I don't know why I made this one so much fuller. More full. I'll make more trips next time. I'm sure this one is fine, though." Before Dorothy could respond, Hadley continued her spiral of uncertainty. "I scrubbed the water bowls really carefully, too, so the water should taste fresh. I wasn't sure if I put too much straw down for bedding. Um, so if it's too much, I can go back through and remove some." Hadley's eyes looked everywhere but at Dorothy's.

Dorothy watched the fragile girl. "Take a deep breath, dear. You did a wonderful job. It's such a tremendous relief to be able to take it easy today. These old bones move slower than they used to." Dorothy motioned for Hadley to take a seat next to her on the haystacks. She rotated her body to face Hadley and laid a hand gently on her knee. "I was just sitting here thinkin' that you should feel proud of yourself, dear. Cleanin' a stable ain't an easy task."

"I think I put too much straw in Butternut's stall…"

"Don't be silly. The stalls are perfect, dear." Dorothy's voice was steady and kind. Hadley slowly lifted her eyes to meet Dorothy's. She released the start of a smile, but it never fully spread. "It's time to get'ya onto a horse before the sun sets. First, I wanna hear'ya say it," Dorothy nudged.

"I'm sorry." Hadley lowered her gaze back to her feet.

"Don't be silly. That's not what I wanted to hear."

"It's not?"

"No, ‘course not. You gotta say you worked hard and you're proud of yourself. You do that, and we go grab you a pony to sit on."

Hadley saw the challenge behind Dorothy's eyes. Feeling silly, but wanting to ride a horse, she nodded. "I worked hard… and I'm proud of myself."

"My, my, quieter than a church mouse, are we?" Dorothy teased.

This made Hadley's smile fully appear. "I worked hard, and I am proud of myself," she repeated, louder this time.

"Atta girl! That's a start, anyway. Now let's go find'ya a horse."

"Okay!"

"First, let's find a helmet for ya. I have a few over here. Hmmm," Dorothy looked at her collection before reaching for a medium-sized matte black helmet. "This oughta fit," Dorothy decided. Sure enough, when Hadley placed it on her head, it fit perfectly. She snapped the strap together under her chin and looked up at Dorothy with a smile. "Perfect! Now, can you grab the saddle hanging on the far left?" Dorothy pointed at a collection of saddles, in varying sizes. She kept a variety since in the warmer months she offered beginner riding lessons for some supplemental income.

Hadley walked to the wall and pointed toward the end at a chestnut-colored saddle with a black padded leather seat, weathered steel stirrups and a prominent horn. When Dorothy nodded, Hadley grabbed it and brought it back over. "This is heavier than I expected." Hadley did her best to hold the saddle in her tired arms.

"You got that right," Dorothy smiled. "I reckon you'll be slingin' that over your shoulder in no time if ya keep up the hard work in here." They walked to the entrance of the clean stables where Dorothy told Hadley to set the saddle until they brought a horse over.

"Dorothy?" Hadley summoned the little courage she had inside of her to get the next words out. "Do you think maybe I could ride Snow White? I mean any horse is okay, I don't mind… I just thought Snow White liked me best." Hadley was rambling again, afraid if she stopped talking she would be met with rejection.

Dorothy let out a soft laugh as she grabbed a bridle and happily obliged. "Well now, I had a feeling you'd pick my little beauty. That there saddle fits Miss Snow White perfectly. Let's find her, shall we?" Hadley and Dorothy walked into the fields, weaving between the roaming horse and cattle. Dorothy spent the brief walk explaining what a bridle was and how they'd secure it on Snow White. She explained how it could be used to guide the horse back to the barn so they could cinch the saddle. After that, Hadley would be able to use the step stool to help boost herself onto the horse. The conversation flowed easily as the duo approached and greeted the beautiful white horse, who was standing under a tree ready and waiting.