Afterwards, I couldn't figure out why the idea had never occurred to me before. It was the perfect job for me. That morning I'd gone with
Guthrie and Crane to town. Crane was at the feed store, and he and Guthrie were loading up
enough feed to last the week. While they were doing that, Crane sent me to the hardware store,
to buy a new hammer, because all the others they used were getting so old that the handles were breaking.
When I went into the hardware store, Mr. Baker, the owner, greeted me with a friendly smile.
"Good mornin' to you, Harlie. How are you?"
"I'm fine, Mr. Baker, thank you."
"How's the family?"
"Everybody's doing good."
"That baby's due to come real soon, isn't he?"
"In about a month."
"Ya'll ready for a little one at your house?"
I assured him that we were all really excited for the baby to be born.
"Well, what can I do for you today, Harlie?"
"Crane says to get a hammer."
"What kind of a hammer?" he asked, waving me over to the wall where a multitude of hammers
were hanging.
"Was he wanting a claw hammer, or a ball peen, or which?" he questioned.
To me, a hammer was a hammer. I mean, I thought they were all the same, pretty much,
weren't they? Apparently not, if the array of them on the wall was anything to go by.
"Um, I don't know. Just a regular one, I guess," I said, pointing at the one he called a claw hammer.
"Well, we'll try this one," he said, taking one down, "and if it's not what Crane wants, he can bring it back,
alright?"
"Yes, sir, that's fine."
While Mr. Baker was ringing up the price of the hammer, and putting it into a sack, I
laid the money Crane had given me down on the counter, and stepped over to read
the ads on the bulletin board. One caught my eye, jumping out at me. I read it over, my
excitement mounting.
'Wanted: Teenager to help in vet office. See Doc G'
I said goodbye to Mr. Baker, and took the hammer, and instead of going back across the
street to the feed store, I went straight down, to Doc G's office.
I pushed the heavy front door open, and went inside. The front office was deserted,
and even the ringing of the bell over the door didn't bring Doc G to the front. I knew he had to be
around somewhere though, or he would have locked the door.
I stuck my head thru the swinging doors that led to the back, but still didn't see Doc G.
I called out to him, but there was no answer. He must be outside, I thought, and as I
would have headed towards the back, the telephone rang.
I hesitated, wondering whether I should answer or not. After the fourth ring,
I picked it up. "Vet office," I answered, laying the sack with the hammer in it on the desk, and hoping I sounded professional.
"Let me talk to Doc," came a loud booming voice across the telephone wire.
"He's not available," I said.
"What? Speak up!"
Whoever it was, was quite obviously hard of hearing. I raised my voice and settled for,
"Doc's busy. Can I take a message?"
"Who is this?" the voice bellowed.
"This is Harlie McFadden," I said.
"Who?"
"Harlie McFadden!" I said, feeling like I was practically yelling.
"McFadden? You Adam's girl?"
I wasn't sure whether whoever it was meant Adam, or my dad, Adam, Sr., but I figured
it was the same, either way.
"Yes, that's right."
"Tell him Dale DeHoff called, and I need him out to my place soon as he can make it.
Tell him I've got a mare down."
"Alright. What's your address?" I asked, grabbing a pencil and paper from the desk.
"Girlie, I've been in the same location for thirty years. Doc knows where my place is. Tell
him to hurry."
And just like that, the phone clicked in my ear.
I rubbed at my ear, feeling like I could still hear him yelling into the phone. Good grief.
Just as I started towards the back again, the phone rang for the second time. I answered on the second
ring this time, figuring I might as well.
"Vet office."
The lady on the other end informed me that she needed to talk to Doc G. She was so excited
that I had trouble understanding her. But I managed to gather enough facts to determine it was
Mrs. Cole and that her cat, Petey, was vomiting and lethargic.
I took her phone number, and assured her that I would give Doc G the message as soon as possible.
I made my way thru the room that makes up Doc's examination and surgery area, and headed to
the outside doors. I could hear voices as I stepped outside.
There was Doc G, his shoulder braced against the weight of a horse's shoulder, while he looked over the
leg in his hand. Reagan Clark stood there, holding the reins, and talking to Doc.
Reagan had been in Ford's class at school, so I don't know her overly well, but she has the reputation
for being one of those 'spoiled rancher's daughters' that you see on old television shows. Her father
has a good-sized ranch in the area, and Reagan is a member of the flag patrol, which is the cowgirls
around here that ride in parades and the entry at rodeos, doing tricks in sparkly outfits.
She nodded at me, but kept on talking. Or complaining, more like. Something about a parade the next
weekend that she needed to travel to across the state.
She was asking Doc G what he could do so her horse would be able to go. I stepped to the side
and could tell from where I stood that her horse's knee was swollen.
"I need him ready to perform next weekend," she complained. "He's slow."
Without looking up from his perusal of the horse's leg, Doc G said, "I told you last week
to give this horse a rest, missy. so he could heal up. You've only made it worse."
"Yes, I know," Reagan said, "but I needed him."
Doc G continued talking, as though she hadn't spoken. "I heard your daddy tell you the same as
I did." He put the leg down gently, and stood up, giving Reagan a level look.
"But I needed him for a show," Reagan said, with a pouting look.
"Well, he needs rest."
"Okay," Reagan said, sounding reluctant. "But do you think if he rests all week he can perform
next weekend?"
"I can't say. It's possible. If you take this animal home, he must rest, and have hot packs applied
every few hours to that leg."
"I've got things to do," Reagan said. "I'll leave him here with you, alright? I'll have one of the
hands pick him up on Thursday. Just send the bill to Daddy."
Doc G didn't answer, he just looked grim, and turned back to the horse.
"Bye, Harlie," Reagan said, and climbed into her shiny black Ford truck, and roared down the
back alley.
For the first time, Doc G turned to acknowledge me. "Hullo there, Harlie Mac. How are you
this fine mornin'?"
"Fine. How are you?"
"I'm in need of a cup of coffee." He smiled at me from his tanned, lined face.
"I make good coffee," I said.
"Do you now? Well, that's fine. I might have you go start a pot for me."
I nodded, and come forward to pet Reagan's horse. I trailed my hand down his side,
and leaned over to look more closely at his leg.
"It's pretty swollen," I said.
"Yep."
"Evan would kill me if I kept riding a horse after they had an irritated tendon like this," I said,
patting the horse's neck again.
"I suspect that's right," Doc G agreed. "But the difference is, you wouldn't do it, would you?"
I shook my head. "No. I wouldn't."
Doc G led the horse towards the barn behind the building.
He walked slowly, to allow for the horse's limp, and I walked along with him.
"What brings you by today, Harlie Mac? Polly and that foal doin' alright?"
"Yes. They're doing good. I wanted to talk to you."
"Well, I'm always glad for a chance to visit with you."
I thought I'd better relay the messages. "When I came in, the phone was ringing. Dale
DeHoff says he needs you to come to his place, that he has a mare down. He wants you
to get there as quickly as you can."
Doc nodded. "So you got to talk to old Dale, did you? What did you think?"
I had to smile. "He sounds like a character."
"Well, he's that alright."
I filled him in on the other call, about Petey the cat.
"I'll give her a call," Doc G said, in his unhurried manner. "Petey is like her child."
After the horse was secure in a stall, with water, I offered to fork some hay for him.
"If you'll do that, I'll go call and check on Petey," Doc G said, looking appreciative.
When I came back into the building from the back, and went to the office, Doc G was
on the phone, reassuring Mrs. Cole that Petey would be fine, and giving her instructions. With
a promise to stop by her house later that day, Doc G hung up.
"Whew," he said.
"Busy day, huh?" I asked, going to the coffee pot and measuring out two scoops to start it with.
"Every day is a busy day, it seems."
"Do you have time for coffee?" I asked, stopping and turning to look at him. "Or do you need
to go to Mr. DeHoff's?"
Doc G waved a hand. "I'll take time for coffee," he said, and I turned to finish filling the water.
"After all, if you hadn't come in and answered my phone, I wouldn't have gotten the call until I
listened to the messages anyway."
I nodded, and Doc G settled himself on the edge of the desk. "Thank you for that, by the way," he said.
"Answering my phone for me."
"It's okay," I said.
"Come and sit down," Doc G told me, gesturing to the chair beside the desk.
When I'd sat down, he said, "What did you want to talk to me about?"
"I was at the hardware store," I said. "I saw your note on the bulletin board."
"Ahhh," Doc G said, nodding in understanding.
I sat up straight and tall in the chair. "I'm thinking about veterinary school. At least, that's my
plans. I'm trying hard to keep my grades high. Crane took me to SC Davis, to the veterinary hospital, and
it was so incredible! I'd like to apply for the job here with you."
I stopped to take a breath, and then forged forward again. "I'd do a good job. I know
I could learn a lot here with you. I think I have a good feeling for animals, and I'm willing
to do whatever you tell me-"
Doc G held up a hand to hush me. "Hold up a minute, there, Harlie Mac," he said, and I
closed my mouth.
"I'm lookin' for someone to help out around here, that's a fact. And I have no quarrel with anything
you've said. There's likely no young'un around these parts that knows animals any better than you."
I sat up even straighter, feeling my hopes rise.
"Have you talked to the boys about this?" he asked, and I knew by 'boys' he meant Adam and Brian
and Crane.
"Well, no. I just saw it this morning, and I wanted to get here to talk to you-"
"Uh huh. Well, don't you think you should talk it over with them before you go applyin'
for a regular job?"
"I thought I'd see what you said first," I admitted, my voice trailing off.
"Hmm," he said. "What do you think they'll have to say about it?"
"Brian will be all for it," I said, with confidence. "He'll think it's great."
"How about Adam and Crane?"
"Well," I hesitated, and then said honestly, "They'll probably both take a little more convincing.
You know how brothers are. Crane worries-"
"They're good boys, all of them," he said, straying from the subject.
I nodded, and brought it back around.
"I thought you'd probably had a lot of kids apply for the job."
"Well, I've had a few that I've been thinkin' over. Bette Ross seems to be the main one."
"Bette?" I asked, and lost a little of my sizzle. I wouldn't have thought Bette Ross would
feel at home in a vet office, where she might get dirty and smelly, but maybe there was more
to her than meets the eye.
"That's right," Doc G said, getting up to go and pour himself a cup of the just brewed coffee.
He turned back to survey me. "Think Bette would do well here?" he asked me.
I hesitated, not wanting to voice my real opinion. It would make me look like I was
the jealous type, and sound petty.
"I couldn't really say," I said carefully. "I guess if she loves animals, she might do alright."
Doc G smiled, and took a sip of the coffee.
"Mighty good coffee," he said.
"Thanks."
I sighed a little, and stood up. "I guess I'd better go find Crane and Guthrie. Crane's probably
wondering where I am."
"I don't think we're done talkin' yet, are we?" he asked.
I looked at him, a little confused, and he shook his head a little.
"Just whoa up there a minute, young lady, and sit back down."
Well, I sat, looking at him curiously.
"I think if a person were to measure you and Bette in this situation, well, there's no real
doubt as to who would come out ahead."
It was then that I saw the twinkle in his blue eyes, and realized he'd been teasing me about Bette.
"I'd be mighty proud to have you workin' here with me, Harlie Mac," he said,
and once his words sunk in, I grinned at him.
"Thanks, Doc!"
"Well, this is an every Saturday job, mostly in the mornings, 7 to noon. To help clean up, answer the phones
like you did today, maybe go out on some calls with me, to fetch and carry. If you can get a ride in here, most times I'll
be able to get you home again, unless you have your own way. You driving yet?"
"I drive, but I don't have a car. Well, not a dependable one, anyway."
"That's not a problem. We can manage the transportation. Pay is five bucks an hour. Still think you're interested?"
"Yes, sir!"
"Well, you talk it over with the boys. If you get their permission, then we'll give it a go."
By the time I'd headed back to the feed store, my thoughts were full of excitement. So full, in fact,
that I nearly ran into Guthrie as he came down the sidewalk towards me.
"Where in the heck have you been?" he demanded.
"I was talking to Doc G-"
"Well, Crane's gettin' antsy. You better get a move on."
"Okay." We started down the sidewalk together, back towards the feed store. Crane was
just coming from the opposite side of the street, where he'd obviously been in search of me, too.
"Hey," I said, holding out the sack to him. "Here's the hammer."
Crane took it, with a measuring glance at me. "I do have other things to get done today,
you know," he said dryly.
On a scale of 1 to 10, he sounded like he was at an irritated five or a six.
"I was talking to Doc G," I told him. "I'm sorry I held you up."
"Well, at least tell me next time before you disappear," he said.
"Okay." I smiled at him, knowing that I was lucky that was all he was going to say about it.
All the way home I was thinking my own thoughts, about how great it was going to be working
with Doc G, and getting some real experience, besides making some money of my own. I was in the
middle of the truck seat, while Guthrie and Crane talked across me.
I didn't realize they were talking to me, until Guthrie gave me a nudge.
"Earth to hyena," he said.
"Huh?" I asked, blinking at him.
"Crane's talking to ya," Guthrie said, snapping his gum.
I looked at Crane. "What did you say?"
"I just asked how Doc was."
"He's fine. He's real busy." I gave Crane a sideways glance, wondering if I should start working
on him now about the job, or wait. Sometimes Crane is a softy about things, and then other times, he can
be real strict about stuff. And, since I was having a tutor to help me with math, and getting ready in January to
start taking an English class that was going to take up a lot of time, I knew that would be his main
concern with me having a job. Well, that and also my diabetes. He and Adam were still watching me pretty carefully
to make sure I was doing my shot every day, but there had been a couple times over the last
week that I'd done it on my own, and then told them. I was hoping they would start loosening up
a little, and give me another chance to be responsible about it.
"He had a lot going on today," I continued. "I answered the phone for him a couple times."
"That's good," Crane said.
"He was going to be run ragged today," I said, maintaining my casual tone.
"I heard he's lookin' for somebody to help out," Guthrie interjected into the conversation.
I turned and gave Guthrie a dark look, shaking my head slightly at him.
"What?" he asked me, puzzled.
"Nothing," I said, but I dug my elbow into his ribs.
"Is he?" Crane asked. "Well, that's probably a good thing, if he has somebody to help
him out."
It was the perfect opening. I started to say something about the job, but then Crane
asked me if I had my homework done. Since I didn't, and since I had a lot of it to do, I decided
it wasn't the right time after all. The thought occurred to me then, that it might go the best if
I talked to Brian first. Then I'd have his support when I talked to Adam and Crane.
Since there had been unusual amount of rain the last week or so, I put on my tall chore boots
to go out to do chores in. I hung around outside most of the afternoon, pitching in with
whatever the guys were working on. That's what put me in the vicinity of Brian in the south pasture,
helping him string fence. I had to put my muscles to use, but I gave it everything I had.
Finally, the hardest part was done, and I was standing beside Brian, while he clamped a fence
post.
"Thanks for your help, peach," Brian told me.
"It's okay. I was actually glad to have the chance to talk to you alone."
"Yeah? You have somethin' to talk to me about?"
"Uh huh." I took the fence cutters he was holding out to me. "Doc G needs some help on Saturdays.
Answering the phone and cleaning up. And going out on calls with him, to sort of be a gopher."
"Oh, yeah?"
"Yeah. Today, I actually went to ask him for the job."
Brian leaned against the fence post, and took off his leather gloves.
"Well, what'd he say?"
"He said the job is mine. Or it is, if I get permission from you guys."
"Well, it'd be a good experience for you."
"I think so, too. I really want to do it, Bri."
"All I have to say is, if you do it, give it 100 percent. Doc deserves that from you."
"I would, I promise."
Brian nodded, pounding down another fence post.
"So what's the obstacle?" he asked, and when I raised my eyebrow at him, he
chuckled a little.
"Crane, right? And Adam?"
"Not Adam so much as Crane. But they're both going to say I have too much going on."
"Sounds pretty likely," Brian agreed.
"Will you help me out? Speak up and say you think it's a good idea?" I asked.
"Well, I'll be there with you for moral support. How's that?"
"But if I need more than moral support, will you speak up?" I insisted.
"It's up to you to convince them you can handle it. But if you really need me, I'll put
in my two cents. Alright?"
"Two cents is good," I grinned at him. "But I figure it might take three or four."
7