Bound to Burn

18. Can't Run from Fate

18

CAN'T RUN FROM FATE

SASHA

Home by Sheryl Crow

“You live in the Palisades, cariño?” Gabriel asks, jumping out of the Jeep and lowering his glasses to get a better look at the property.

The mid-century ranch hasn’t been updated like all the other homes in the area that have been bulldozed and had monstrosities built in their place. I’ve always loved the vintage vibe of our home.

“I thought you weren’t going to call me that anymore.” I motion for him to follow as I walk to the back of the house.

“I said I wouldn’t call you that in front of Cash anymore.” The corners of his mouth tilt up in a wicked smile.

“Come on,” I gently bump into him, “I’ll introduce you to Grandpa John.”

The pasture comes into view, and Grandpa John is in the round pen with a new horse I haven’t seen before. Only a head-collar secures the horse, and Grandpa John carries a 30 foot sash wrapped around his forearm.

I notice Gabriel watching intently as Grandpa John moves to the rear of the horse, careful to stay out of the kick zone. The young flea-bitten gelding flees, and Grandpa John pitches the sash towards him until he starts to canter, following the walls of the round pen. His eyes are pinned on the horse, keeping his body square. Once the horse has made a couple of revolutions, Grandpa John pitches the sash in front of the horse, causing him to change directions. Keeping the pressure on, he pitches the sash at his rear to keep him moving.

“See how he starts to bend his neck closer to the inside of the circle?” I point out to Gabriel, and he nods, keeping his eyes pinned on the scene front of him.

“He’ll start to lick and chew,” I explain to Gabriel. “His head will get long and closer to the ground.”

Gabriel crosses his arms over his chest, and as if on command, the young gelding works his mouth, his head elongating, almost reaching the ground. Grandpa John is focused on the horse, watching and anticipating his moves, speaking the same language.

“The horse is saying he’s ready to stop now, asking Grandpa John to take the pressure off.”

We watch as Grandpa John coils the sash around his forearm and casts his eyes to the ground. The horse stops and looks at him as if he’s trying to decide what he’s going to do next. Grandpa John moves his body so his back is almost to the horse. Nose flaring, the horse’s eyes are pinned on Grandpa John.

“Isn’t he afraid the horse will try to bite him?” Gabriel asks, concern his is voice.

I shake my head. “Just watch.”

Grandpa John is magical and hypnotic to watch. He taught me everything I know. Horses have their own language, you just have to learn how to speak it, and then you can become true partners.

The horse starts to move, and I hear Gabriel suck in a breath. To see him mesmerized by this is actually really sweet. He’s usually so cocky and elusive, but when I look at his face, all of his emotions are pushed to the surface.

The horse reaches out with his nose toward Grandpa John’s shoulder and he turns slowly to rub him between the eyes. Then Grandpa John starts to move around the pen, and the horse moves with him like a magnet, turning when he turns, stopping when he stops.

“That’s some f*****g magical s**t,” Gabriel murmurs in a serious tone that makes me laugh.

“That is how you train a horse the humane way.” I touch Gabriel’s shoulder and direct him towards the house.

“I can take you around while we wait for my grandpa to finish.”

Gabriel nods but his eyes are still glued to the show in the round pen, and I don’t blame him. It really is beautiful to watch.

Grandma Jo sees me through the kitchen window and waves. The back door opens and she comes outside to great us, giving me a hug.

“I didn’t know we were getting a new horse,” I tell her, looking over my shoulder as Grandpa John takes the horse out of the round pen and leads him into the barn.

“Well, you know how these things go,” she shrugs.

Sometimes horses come and go. We aren’t an official rescue, more of a stopover for some until Grandpa John finds them a good home. I’ve always wanted to make this a sanctuary, but for that we’d need lots of funding and volunteers. It’s time and money we don’t have, and Grandpa John isn’t getting any younger.

“Who’s your friend?” Grandma asks, looking at Gabriel.

“Grandma Jo, this is Gabriel,” I introduce them. “I’m showing him around so he can help at the clearing party. His father has a landscaping business.”

“I keep telling your grandpa he’s too old to be doing all that by himself,” she says to me and then turns towards Gabriel. “Nice to meet you. Can I get you something to drink? Lemonade, ice tea?” She practically drags Gabriel into the house.

She pulls a chair out for him and he reluctantly sits, looking uncomfortable.

“Um, lemonade would be nice.” He looks around, bewildered, and Grandma Jo places a glass of lemonade in front of him.

“I hope you know what you’re in for, Gabriel,” Grandma Jo says while Gabriel takes a sip of his lemonade.

“I got a couple of guys that can help,” he says, l*****g the lemonade from his lips.

Grandma Jo laughs. “I was talking about John.”

“Oh,” Gabriel laughs nervously.

He inspects the glass, swirling the lemonade inside. “This doesn’t taste like Country Time.” Gabriel says as he takes another sip.

Grandma Jo swats him playfully with her rag. “Don’t insult me. This is homemade; no powdered drink mixes come out of my kitchen.” She stands up from the table and busies herself by cleaning the counters.

It’s odd seeing Gabriel in my kitchen with his tattoo’s peeking above his collar, and the chain dangling from his wallet hitting the metal of the kitchen chair. He looks so out of place against the lacy window curtains and doilies on the table in front of him.

“Looks like Grandpa John is finished.” I see him through the window, and the minute I stand up, Gabriel rockets out of his chair, ready to get back outside.

“Thank you for the lemonade,” Gabriel says to Grandma Jo. “It was really good.”

I pull open the back door and we meet Grandpa John near the gate to the pasture as he’s locking up.

“Grandpa John, this is Gabriel,” I introduce them. “His father owns a landscaping business, and I wanted to show him everything that needs to be cleared away so he can bring the right equipment tomorrow.”

Grandpa John tips his head and Gabriel does the same. “Well, let’s just hope he can keep up.”

Gabriel shakes his head and we follow Grandpa John around the property as he points out all the dead brush that needs to be cleared, and how much of a perimeter to make.

There are a lot of little weeds that litter the area, but dead bushes that popped up over the winter and died once the heat of summer hit are just fuel for a fire.

Gabriel looks like he is mentally cataloguing everything and stops to call his cousin, speaking out of earshot.

He turns back around and tucks his phone back in his pocket. “If I can get a couple of guys it’ll only take a few hours, but that tree there,” Gabriel points to an ancient Eucalyptus tree at the front of the house, “should be taken out.”

Grandpa John studies the tree. “That trees been here longer than I have,” he grumbles, chewing on the inside of his cheek.

“Half of it’s dead, and all that bark it’s shedding,” Gabriel easily pulls pieces of bark off the tree and drops them on the ground, “is just fuel for a fire.”

“Hmm.” Grandpa John gripes as he inspects the tree. “How do you know it’s part dead?”

I wouldn’t have known either because it looks like it always does, not that I’ve paid much attention to it anyway.

Gabriel grabs a knife from his pocket and cuts away at the bark. “See that?” He points to the brown underneath. “That means it’s dead.” Then he looks up at the tree. “Even the leaves are starting to brown and wither, and it’s too close to the house.”

Gabriel looks at the space left between the branches of the tree and the house.

“Tree that size is a big job,” Grandpa John comments, placing his hands in his pockets.

“We can handle it,” Gabriel nods.

Grandpa John stares at him, but Gabriel stands his ground.

“Let’s talk cost.” He motions for Gabriel to follow him and I hang back, waiting for them at my Jeep.

I hear Gabriel nod and say, “We can work something out,” before he shakes his hand.

Grandpa John readjusts the John Deere hat on his head and calls over to Gabriel after he reaches the passenger side of the Jeep.

“Be here bright and early tomorrow. Lots to get done.” He doesn’t wait for an answer or a nod before heading back to the house.

“Your grandpa,” Gabriel starts to say as he slides into the passenger seat.

“Is a little rough around the edges, I know,” I interrupt him.

“No, I was gonna say he reminds me of Sam Elliot,” Gabriel says with a smile.

“The actor?” I ask. “Like from Roadhouse?” I giggle.

Gabriel laughs, “Yeah.”

I shake my head, laughing. “What I find funnier is that you’ve watched that movie.”

“Mi mamá loved Patrick Swayze,” he says in a serious tone.

I start up the Jeep and turn around in the drive so we can head back down to Santa Monica.

“Ya know, there are a lot of older neighbors who could use the help clearing the dead brush for wildfire season,” I suggest as we pass by a few houses that could use some cleaning up. “It could really help your dad’s business.”

He mentioned before that his Dad wasn’t in good health, causing the business to struggle.

“You don’t know anything about my business, cariño,” he says without any humor, making me grip the steering wheel tighter.

“Besides, rich people like these probably already have someone.” He looks down the street.

“You’d be surprised how many are stubborn like my grandpa and think they can still do everything themselves.” I try to lighten the mood.

Gabriel nods, clearly uncomfortable, but I keep my eyes on the road as we take Temescal Canyon back down to the valley.

Gabriel is pensive, staring out the window, resting his cheek on his hand as the wind whips his dark hair around his face, fluttering like a raven’s wings.

“I never planned on spending the rest of my life being a landscaper like mi papá,” Gabriel says as we take the turn onto Ocean Avenue. He audibly sighs. “I guess it’s true when they say you can’t run from fate.”