I went upstairs and stood in the doorway of the bathroom. Auggie was soaking in the garden tub. I peeled off my clothes and climbed into the hot bubbles with her, cradling her between my spread thighs. She leaned back against my chest and cried. It was such a heartbreaking sound and there was absolutely nothing I could do to make the hurt go away.
“I love you, Auggie,” was all I could think to say. She hadn’t cried for her mother; she hadn’t cried for her half-brother. She was heartbroken over her horse. She felt it was the only thing that had ever truly loved her without conditions. I knew how she felt.
***
I knew Tyler Peterson from school. He had a practice in southern Indiana that specialized in juveniles. I invited him over for dinner and he brought his son, Ernie, with him. Ernie happened to be a year younger than Ford and similar in personality. They went off to Ford’s room to look at some of Ford’s possessions and Auggie and I sat with Tyler in the living room, sipping wine. I explained briefly my concerns with Ford and Tyler listened patiently.
“I’ve only met him briefly, but he seems quite normal, Worth. Is it possible that you and Auggie are over-reacting a bit? Maybe taking out your dislike for your own parent on him?”
Auggie nodded, encouraged by that idea but I wasn’t so sure.
At that moment, Ernie came down the stairs and said to his father, “Dad, I want to go.”
Tyler set down his wine and motioned for Ernie to come closer. “What’s wrong, son? Aren’t you feeling well?”
The boy’s eyes were wide. “I’m fine. I want to go home. Now.”
“Why, son?”
“I’ll tell you later,” Ernie said, looking at Auggie and me from the side.
I nodded to Tyler, and he understood that it was fine for him to leave and deal with whatever Ernie’s problem was.
“Another time, then, Tyler,” I said, standing and taking his glass of wine. “Ernie it was a pleasure to meet you,” I said to the boy.
Ernie looked up at me, his eyes huge and he nodded, half convinced.
They left and I looked at Auggie and we simultaneously bounded up the stairs to Ford’s room. I tapped on the door, then pushed it open. Ford was lying on his bed, his shirt off and dollar bills on the bedspread. “Ford? What’s going on in here?” I asked him, trying to figure out the scene before me.
“Nothing. Just was playing a little poker with the kid. Strip poker. The kid ran out of money and didn’t want to take off his clothes, so I told him to go home. He was a cheater, Dad. You don’t play poker if you’re not going to pay up.” Ford’s face was bland and expressionless. He had no idea how far he had crossed a line.
“Ford, you have no business treating a guest in this house like that,” I told him because Auggie couldn’t speak, her hand was over her mouth. “Now, go and take your bath and get into bed. There will be no dinner for you this evening, young man.”
“Don’t want to,” he answered and kept playing with the cards. I walked toward the bed and he threw the deck at me. “Wanna play Fifty-Two Pick Up?” he laughed and it was not a child’s laughter. It sounded eerily like my father’s voice. I shuddered and took his hand, pulling him toward me. I sat on the edge of the bed and turned him to face me. “Listen, young man. You will not behave in this manner, do you hear me? You will do what I tell you to do and tomorrow we are going to have a talk about all this. When you’re done with your bath, I want you to pick up these cards, then I will come up to tuck you in. You’ve got fifteen minutes, starting now.”
I turned him toward his bathroom and got up with Auggie and left the room. Auggie was shaking. “I’ve never seen him do that,” she whispered and I nodded.
“Don’t let it shake you. He’s testing me. All boys do that,” I said and we went downstairs and finished our wine. We both needed it.
In fifteen minutes, I went back up, tapped on his door and opened it. Ford had turned on the water in the bathtub and not shut it off. It was overflowing onto the floor and he sat in the water, the stack of cards wet and bent all about him. He looked up at me with an innocent look. “Dirty ol’ cards. They needed a bath.”
A week later, Auggie and I waved goodbye to our son. We left him at military school and prayed all the way home that they would straighten him out. I don’t think either of us actually believed they could, but we were at a loss at that moment ourselves. Ford had changed. Something had snapped. Even with all my training, I didn’t want to recognize what had stood right before me. Let the school see what they can do was all I could think.
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
Worth
With all the stresses we’d been through, Auggie had gone to a distant place in her mind. She was quiet for long periods of time and when she snapped back, she was often moody and argumentative. I knew she couldn’t be content with the dual loss of first Carlos and then the absence of our son. I also knew she felt a certain amount of guilt for allowing Carlos out to pasture when the grounds were so muddy, particularly after I’d brought it up.
She’d lost both refuge and purpose. Her dad was exploring his new life with Mother and I was away on business a good deal of the time. She had little in her life and even working the farm was painful because she feared attachment to another horse and its possible loss.
I decided to take Auggie away for a while to change her pace and the panorama she repeatedly faced on a daily basis. Summer was yet upon us, so I looked for something that was entirely different. I found Patoka Lake, a large recreational lake in southern Indiana. I knew she wouldn’t object because it wasn’t terribly far from Ford’s new school. I rented a large sailboat for a week and had Betsy fill boxes with foods and drinks.
Auggie had no idea what I had planned. She got up one morning and while she was in the shower, I had Betsy throw together her bathing suit and some casual clothes and put them in the car. When Auggie came into the bedroom, there was a pair of cut-offs and a t-shirt lying on the bed.
“What’s this?” she asked, unaccustomed to having clothing laid out for her.
“I’m taking you away for a few days,” I said, dressed in similarly casual clothing.
“Where?”
“Not far, but it’s a surprise. Just trust me. You’ll like it.”
“I don’t want to be away from home. What if Ford needs me?”
“You’ll be even closer than you are now, I promise.”
She didn’t entirely trust my promise, but obliged me and dressed. I picked her up and carried her downstairs and slid her into the passenger seat. “Worth, what on earth is going on?”