~2~
had improved somewhat. The freezing rain finally stopped and the skies cleared. The sun glistened on the wet streets and across the tops of roadside grasses. But the better weather didn’t matter. I still couldn’t get warm. “We’re about there,” Uncle Morgan said. Bonham Road ended. My uncle maneuvered the SUV through the intersection, immediately across the street and between two brick columns that framed a long, twisting driveway. We drove uphill for about a minute until a large stable came into view on a rise to our left. Just beyond, I saw an outdoor horse-training ring. The dirt inside the fenced area was dotted with puddles. Uncle Morgan slowed the Escalade in a gravel parking area. Sandy Carson’s film van was parked at the end of the lot. We all got out. The cool air smelled of horses. Pinson walked to the back of the SUV and opened the hatch. “Ready?” Uncle Morgan said. I nodded at him even though I knew my answer didn’t make any difference. Pinson and Uncle Morgan walked together toward a rolling meadow. Pinson carried a golf club under one arm, a plastic bucket, an MP3 player, and a small speaker. I squinted at the sky. The dark clouds had returned. A breeze returned, as well, and my face was freezing again. I wanted to go back inside the Escalade with the heater set to Warp-9 and my bare hands over the air vents. “Charley,” Uncle Morgan said over his shoulder at me. “You okay?” “Peachy.” I stuffed my hands inside the pockets of my jacket and willed my legs to move as I followed my uncle and Pinson into the meadow. “Here.” Pinson handed the golf club to me.