A week or so later, Sue rumbled up to the Adroushan’s front yard. This time, Mrs. Adroushan led her back to the kitchen where Cindy had a hand up over a pot of boiling water, dropping in grains of polenta one by one.
Sue stood next to her for a moment, and then said, “They have a thing called a measuring cup for this sort of task, you know.”
Cindy didn’t turn, but she let a little grin out as she continued to drop in the grains at what seemed to be a measured frequency.
Sue looked down and watched the grains circulate in the pot. “Oh I get it” she observed. “Your TV’s busted, and this is Plan B.”
Mrs. Adroushan chuckled and answered, “No, Cindy’s performing an experiment, see? She’s timing it, though, so she can’t chat.”
“Oh, I see. Well tell the scientist that if her experiment will be ending sometime soon, I’d like to show her something.”
“—Minute,” Cindy chirped.
When the minute was up, Cindy turned the burner dial to OFF and turned her face to Suzanne. “Yeah?”
“Come on.” Sue motioned her out, and led her through the front door and toward her bike.
Cindy remained at the front door.
“Come on,” Sue said as she put on her helmet. “Here’s one for you.”
“Is that necessary?” Cindy asked.
“No, but it’s safer with a helmet.”
“Not the helmet. The motorcycle. Is the motorcycle necessary.”
“This is how I get around, babe. Got a better suggestion?”
Cindy walked up to the bike, received the helmet from Sue, and sighed.
“Get on, girl,” Sue commanded.
Cindy did so as she heard her mother yell, “be safe!”
Sue turned her head back as she strapped Cindy’s arms around her. “Nice, huh? All that fire and steel between your thighs. What more could a girl ask for?”
Cindy turned away to hide the smile threatening to break across her face.
They rode east on Grangeville Boulevard, then down State Route 43, and east on one of the many so-called avenues that cross the Sink east-to-west. Sue pulled off the road, looked out over a field, and inhaled deeply. Then she pulled back onto the pavement and they rode to the edge of the Range, where the road veered around the outline of a granite, boulder-encrusted whale. Sue pulled off the road at a gate. She said “Stay here and hold her up,” dismounted, and walked over to the gate. When she pushed it closed and latched it, Cindy realized that the gate had been left open. As Sue returned, Cindy asked, “So you ride around closing gates?”
“What? Isn’t that enough?”
“Somebody pays you to do this?”
“Unbelievable, isn’t it?”
Sue got back on and they rode down more back roads. Sue pulled over at a little drive-in and said, “Let’s eat.”
Paul Buxman
They made their orders and sat down at a table.
Cindy asked “Was that what you were going to show me?”
“More or less. There are a few chores I’m hiding from you. Like what you’ve seen?”
“What d’ you mean?”
“You think you’d like to do it?”
“Me?”
“Yeah you. I need someone to fill in while I’m at school. Last guy didn’t work out. Need someone we can rely on.”
“23!” The girl behind the glass called out, and Cindy and Sue got up to collect their order.
Sue picked up her burger, and bit in. Swallowing, she said “So you want to be a cowgirl or not?”
“I don’t have a pickup.”
“Don’t need a pickup. Just need a cowgirl hat, maybe some riding boots, chaps, and a trusty steed.” Sue nodded toward her bike.
“I don’t have a steed either.”
“You can ride her. She won’t throw ya. She likes you.”
“Serious?”
“Dead.”
“You going to teach me how to ride tha—”
“Sh—her name’s Rosie. Watch your mouth.” Susan interrupted with a whisper. “And yeah, I’ll show you how to ride her, and how to look after her.”