Page 107 of Prince Charmless
“A horse.”
“No,” I say, gesturing to it. “This isn’t a horse. This is some fun-sized equine abomination.”
“Her name is Truffle.”
Truffle swats its dusty blond tail, then stares directly at me. Directly at my soul.
“What does it...do?” I ask.
“She’s a mini horse, Melina, what more in life could you possibly need her to do?”
I turn and face him. “Taylor, I appreciate you sharing your hobbies, but I’m actuallyreally—”
“Terrified of horses?” he finishes. “Yeah, you told me.”
I always seem to value honesty when drunk.
Taylor moves my hair to one side of my shoulder. “There are full-sized horses here too, but I thought you might like one.”
As the majestic Truffle sniffs the ground, I’m reminded of when I got bucked off a bigger pony at a carnival. I remember how hard I hit the dirt and how close its hoof was to my head. I remember my mom screaming and a carny coming to pull the horse away. I remember the pediatricians, the x-rays, Mateo drawing our favorite cartoon characters on my cast. But this one’s so tiny. It couldn’t hurt me, right? The chocolate brown animal is admittedly cute. I just don’t want to get any closer.
Taylor approaches Truffle and smooths her fur/coat/hair or whatever it’s called. She bows respectfully to receive more pets from him.
“They’re all used to being socialized with,” he assures me.
Truffle huffs and does a little head shake.
Yuck.
Taylor actually smiles at the gesture. It’s a smile that reminds me how bad of an actor he is. It’s ten times better than the one he flashes for the cameras. Truffle should feel lucky. Does she know how hard it is to get him to do that? And all she has to do is be a mini horse.
Taylor looks to me, then to the fruit I’m holding.
He thinks I’m going to give this...to Truffle?
“Just hold it out flat in your hand,” he says like it’s easy.
Spontaneous Melina doesn’t flinch, she never thinks twice, she’s always ready for action.
Truffle’s ears flicker when I take my first step. She seems docile and calm, staring off into the sunset, of which she’ll never understand the beauty. I can do this, right? It’s not like I’m riding the thing. I don’t think I could ride Truffle without her buckling.
I bend down and present my peace offering. Though a chunk is bitten out of the apple, Truffle doesn’t seem to care as she gobbles it down whole. Wet and fleshy are the words I could use to describe the feeling. I try not to be freaked out by her teeth as they’re uncannily human-like and bigger than I thought they would be. I run my hand along the white stripe on her snout.
“Not so bad, eh?” Taylor asks.
I’m doing it. I’m petting a horse. Fifty percent of a horse, but a horse nonetheless. Expect Truffle is less soft and more wiry. I’m not sure what overcoming this fear will do for me in the future. This doesn’t feel that nice. I wipe my hand on my jeans when I decide my allotted minute of horse time is over.
“Should I ask Tom to tack one up for you?”
I turn to Taylor and smile. “Absolutely not.”
––––––––
A grand, Titanic-like staircase is the centerpiece of Grandma’s mansion. The one percent really know how to do it when it comes to architecture. The foyer also has open arches that lead to different parts of the house. To the left is a living room where the floor is covered with boxes and the antique furniture with plastic. A chandelier lights its bare blue walls and white crown-molded ceiling. It’s like I’m on set for an Agatha Christie novel adaptation.
“We’re in the middle of getting rid of all her shit,” Taylor explains.
“Taylor?” Thomas’ voice calls from upstairs. When I turn around, he’s standing at the top of the landing, looking between us with a Cheshire cat grin. “I didn’t know it was bring-a-friend night.”
