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Annie
We eat cake for lunch, butter cake with messy frosting that has crumbs through it. The lollies cover the imperfections. It’s moist and possibly undercooked but utterly delicious.
‘What do you want to do now?’ Hunter asks.
I think for a moment. ‘I’d love to see Banjo and go for a ride, but I don’t see that happening any time soon.’
He looks at the clock. ‘What time does your mum get home from work?’
‘I don’t know. Four. Five.’
‘So you’re saying nobody will be home for at least another three hours.’
I drum my fingers on the table, wondering if I’m brave enough to take the gelding from his paddock without asking. ‘I mean, I’d be doing her a favour. Charlie hasn’t been ridden for months.’ Excitement flutters in my chest. ‘I could have him back in his paddock in under an hour.’
‘Better get your boots on.’
And so my next birthday activity is decided.
I venture across the creek, and Hunter stays back to get a few jobs done around the farm. I watch the house from the safety of the trees and only step out once I’ve established that Mum’s not home. When I whistle, Banjo comes at a run, and we go to saddle Charlie, who’s actually more excited than the dog.
We head up into the bush, staying away from the roads, cars, and people. It takes Charlie half the ride to settle, but then it’s just the sound of hooves padding the dirt and a panting dog in tow. I can’t help but think about how great it would be to combine the best parts of these lives instead of having to choose between them. I’m all too aware that this moment is stolen. It doesn’t belong to me.
‘You need to stay here and keep being the best boy ’round these parts,’ I tell Banjo after our ride. ‘Stay.’
He must understand, because for once he doesn’t follow me.
When I arrive back at the farmhouse, I see Mum’s car parked in front of the shed. I stop, blink. And then I hear her. My eyes go to the veranda. She’s standing at the bottom of the steps shouting up at Hunter. It’s clear she hasn’t come to wish me a happy birthday.
‘Mum,’ I call.
She whips her head in my direction, eyes ablaze. Then she marches towards me. ‘You came onto my property while I wasn’t home and removed my animals without permission.’
I almost laugh because it sounds so ridiculous. I grew up on that property with those animals. ‘Yes, I took Charlie for a quick ride. And Banjo followed like he always does.’
‘Without. Permission.’
Hunter remains on the veranda, listening.
I swallow. ‘I thought you’d prefer not to see me.’
‘So you trespassed and stole from me?’
‘Easy,’ Hunter says.
She whips her head around. ‘Stay out of this. It’s a family matter and nothing to do with you.’
Nervous laughter falls out of me. ‘Mum, Charlie’s back in his paddock, and Banjo’s waiting at your front door.’ But I know this isn’t really about me taking the horse for a ride. ‘I’m sorry. I won’t do it again.’ I want this conversation to be over, for the hate to leave her eyes.
The sound of a car approaching has us all looking in the direction of the drive. A police car appears. I glance at Hunter, who’s equally as confused.
A realisation sinks in as I look back at Mum. ‘Did you… call the cops?’
She sets her mouth. ‘Since God’s laws mean nothing to you now, I’m forced to rely on worldly law enforcement.’
‘Mum,’ I breathe. ‘What have you done?’
‘Look where you’ve ended up.’ She points to the police car. ‘This is where turning away from Jehovah has gotten you.’ She walks over to the two policemen now climbing out of the car.
