Read Online A Question of Mercy by Elizabeth Cox - Free Book Online Page B

back; but, instead, he thrilled to the brush against the neck of the horse. He brushed with one hand and smoothed with the other, coming alive in the world of senses. He used gentle strokes across the horse’s back and sides, belly and legs. Adam, in the grip of something remote and wild, worked with the thorough care of a stable-boy.
    Jess had never seen Buckhead stand so still while being groomed. He barely breathed. A statue of a horse. Adam let water from the hose run over the horse’s back and legs—like a baptism. He looked like someone in love. Nothing about this act was a chore.
    Once, Buckhead turned to see who was stroking him. When Adam finished brushing the horse, he kissed the animal’s nose, then started brushing again—the neck and legs and back. Buckhead had thought it was over, but when Adam began another round, he readied himself for more grooming.
    â€œYou have to stop now, Adam.” Jess believed Adam could have brushed and hosed until that horse was no bigger than a thimble, or curried him into a mere speck on the barn floor. Adam could groom that horse to death. She took the bridle and led Buckhead toward the stall. “You did a good job,” she told Adam. “But that’s enough.” Buckhead’s coat gleamed like a new coin.
    That evening, at home, Adam’s arm kept brushing the air, as if a big horse stood before him—in the kitchen, in the hall, at the dinner table.
    â€œWhat in the world are you doing?” Clementine said.
    Edward told her how good he was with Buckhead.
    â€œWell,” she laughed. “You can’t keep doing that all night.”
    Jess was brushing her hair dry after washing it. They gathered in front of the TV after dinner to watch Candid Camera . Before the program started, Edward announced a surprise trip they would take in August. “We’re going to Myrtle Beach,” he said. “I’ve reserved a cabin right on the ocean!” Jess and her father had not been to the beach since before her mother died. She wanted to object, but instead brushed her hair over her face so no one could see her expression.
    Adam barely responded to their plans for going to the beach, though they knew how much he would love stepping into the ocean for the first time. Whenever Jess had taken him to the river behind their house, he ran in up to his knees, his waist. He couldn’t swim, but didn’t care. Clementine usually asked Jess to go with him. “He can’t go alone,” she said. “He might plunge in over his head. I have a bad feeling about that river.”
    For most of July Jess had taught Adam how to float, but he still couldn’t swim. Sometimes she brought bright colored balloons to blow up and let Adam watch them move along the top of the water until they were out of sight. He laughed hard if they popped. She was doing her best to be helpful, but each day she looked at her father with a question on her face: What are you doing to me? She wanted her old life back.
    â€œAren’t you excited about Papa B. taking us to the ocean, Adam?” Clementine asked.
    Adam didn’t stop moving his arms through the air toward an imaginary horse. He couldn’t get out of his head the pleasure of grooming. When Jessoffered to let him brush her hair, Adam used gentle strokes from the crown, lifting and smoothing every strand. He worked like that for almost an hour. He made her hair feel like water.

    Adam
    The first time Adam stepped into the French Broad River, he thought he could ride beneath the murmur of fish. He sank and Jess pulled him up. He held Jess tight around her neck. Her wet hair and face felt cold. She told him to let go, to try again. He knew how rivers dug a long cradle to the sea, and believed it could take him all the way to the ocean. He sank over and over, swallowing water. He coughed. He choked, but would not quit. Adam wanted to please Jess more than he wanted to become a river