Part 5
Rafael raised a halter toward Flint, and the horse backed until his hindquarters touched the stall wall. Nora could see them through the stable opening as she came out behind the casket. Usually Flint lowered his head for Rafael. Now his nostrils were wide, and his ears stayed fixed toward the house.
“Give us a minute,” Rafael called.
The six men carrying Caleb waited. Nora stood between Abby and Owen, listening to the handles complain as the men adjusted their grips. The sound brought Flint forward so abruptly that Rafael caught only his nose in the halter. Before he could bring the strap over the ears, the horse flung his head and tore it from his hands.
Ben pushed the solid lower door shut. Rafael secured the upper half and backed away. Nora heard him tell Ben to move the other horses farther down the aisle, and then the outside stable doors closed, hiding them from her.
Elaine looked toward the building before nodding to the men. They began the quarter-mile walk toward the south ridge. Nora watched the backs of their coats and tried to match the casket’s movement with Caleb’s familiar weight in the bedroom, the shoulder she had turned while they washed him.
The place beside his parents’ stones was untouched. She had promised Elaine there would be no digging. Until Monday, she kept thinking, though she did not know why Monday should make it possible to put him there.
They were nearing the stones when a crash came from behind them.
Owen looked back. Nora kept walking for another step before she realized the men had slowed. From the stable came a second impact, harder than the first, and somebody shouted.
Afterward, Rafael would describe the hinge tearing from the old pine jamb and the upper latch splitting under Flint’s forehooves. The broken stall door had come into the aisle with him. Ben had grabbed the hanging halter strap and lost it. Flint had driven his shoulder into the outer doors until Rafael lifted the ground bolt, afraid he would break his shoulder against the one door that still held.
What Nora saw was the black horse coming around the machine shed, the strap swinging loose beneath his jaw. Rafael and Ben ran behind him. Flint’s coat caught the pale light, blue along the shoulder, and the old horse covered the open ground with a speed she had almost forgotten.
“Horse loose!” Ben shouted. “Get back!”
The men stopped beside the granite stones. Elaine pointed to the grass and told them to lower the casket carefully. One man nearly let go too early; the others checked the weight until all six handles settled.
A neighbor stepped toward Flint with both arms raised. Rafael shouted at him to leave a way through. Nora caught another man’s sleeve before he joined the first.
“He doesn’t see well on that side. Please. Move.”
The people separated reluctantly, some trying to pull others with them. Flint came through the opening and checked his stride so sharply that his front feet slid in the dirt. He stopped at the pine box, breathing hard enough for Nora to see the damp inside his nostrils.
He lowered his muzzle over the foot of the lid and moved it toward Caleb’s chest. Nora could hear him drawing air along the wood. He lifted his head and struck the ground once, then turned back to the casket.
Elaine said Rafael’s name. He was approaching from Flint’s stronger right side with a catch rope open between his hands.
“You’ve got to come with me now,” he said. “Come on. This way.”
Flint looked at him and returned to the lid. One forehoof scraped it, lifting a pale shaving. Nora stepped toward him before Abby caught her fingers.
“He can’t get to Caleb,” Nora said.
“Mom, stay here.”
“He keeps looking for him.”
Abby tightened her grip. “He’ll trample you. Please don’t.”
Flint hit the lid with a hollow blow. A woman near the back cried out, and several people began retreating toward the trucks. When his other forefoot came down, the box moved six inches over the grass.
Nora pulled against Abby’s hand. She knew what Caleb would have done with a frightened horse, but Caleb was under the board, and she could not make those two facts fit together. All she could think about was the shirt they had buttoned and Owen’s careful work coming apart.
Owen went to Rafael. “Let me help with that.”
Rafael gave him room to take the rope, warning him away from the weak left eye. Ben came around with another lead. They spread out, trying to reach Flint without putting a body between him and the casket. Nora could see Owen watching Rafael’s hands for instructions.
The horse rose onto his hind legs.
For a moment the white mark on his forehead was above them. Both front hooves struck near the center of the lid. Wood cracked, and one of the men who had carried Caleb turned and ran. Others followed him toward the cottonwoods or down the track. Abby’s grip jerked against Nora’s hand, but she stayed.
Nora could not leave Owen. She could not leave Caleb. She held Abby’s fingers and watched Elaine crouch near the head of the box, looking for a way to reach it without going beneath the horse.
Another blow opened a board along its grain. One end lifted, caught beneath a hoof, and tore free of two screws. Rafael threw the rope across Flint’s neck, but it did not draw tight. Nora saw the opening where there had been an unbroken lid.
Flint stopped striking.
He lowered his nose through the gap. His sides were still laboring, but his feet stayed planted. Beyond him, the people who had run were calling to those who hadn’t. Owen stood with the rope slack in his hands.
Something made a thin, uneven sound. Nora thought at first that Flint had hurt himself. She looked along his legs for blood, unable to understand why Elaine had gone so still.
The horse lifted his muzzle out of the opening.
The sound came again without him touching the wood. Abby’s fingers loosened around Nora’s, and Nora heard the wet catch of a breath followed by a broken, human cry.
It was coming from inside Caleb’s casket.
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