Warren - At Heavens Gate

IT was the brilliant, high, windless sky of early autumn. The blue was paler than the blue of summer, but not leached out, still positive, and drenched in sunlight as though treated with a wash which was transparent but full of minute gold flecks. When you stared at the sky, if you stared very long, it seemed to be pricked with those tiny flecks of gold, which winked and glittered.

Sue Murdock stared at the sky, northward, and narrowed her eyes against the light. She could see nothing in the sky.

She was leaning her folded arms on the white top bar of the paddock, with her chin braced on her forearms. On her left, her brother Hammond Murdock lounged against the paddock, and on her right, Slim Sarrett stood, not leaning, one of his long white hands laid on the bar, not for support but as in a position of control, as though it were a warriors hand laid on a sword hilt, or a bearded mariners hand laid, as in an old engraving, on a globe.

Slim Sarrett had just stated that he did not care for riding.

Have you ever been on a horse? Sue demanded, not taking her eyes off the bright sky.

No, Slim Sarrett confessed quite candidly, and added that he did not think that riding a horse would be very interesting.

Of course not, of course not, she murmured, not at all interesting, oh, no, and did not look at him.

For Christ sake, Ham Murdock said, amiably.

The cult of horsemanship is a very peculiar thing, Slim Sarrett continued evenly. It is probable that most people who devote themselves to it do so despite the fact that they do not enjoy it at all, in itself, or enjoy it very little. They simply enjoy the idea. They enjoy the picture of themselves on a horse. It is a symbol. It is a snob symbol derived from the Middle Ages. It

You just read all that in a book, Sue said. And you said it all to me on the way out here and now youre saying it for Hams benefit.

He had said it all to her in her car on the way out here to see Starlight, and there wasnt a word of truth in it, for she didnt enjoy the idea of being on a horse; she just liked riding and that was all there was to it, and he just said that to her because he said things like that. He was just that way.

He was saying that if you really did enjoy riding a horse it was because it flattered your ego. It was because you controlled a brute. You felt fully man because a brute, much stronger than man, was obeying you. But, he said, granting the perfectly normal desire to flatter ones ego, it is a cheap and easy way to achieve the end. The true contest should be to set oneself against another human being, not against a brute. It is too easy.

If you think its so damned easy, Ham said, Ill just get one of the niggers to saddle Starlight out there he nodded toward the big, glistening bay stallion in the middle of the paddock, and you can see how long you can stick on that baby.

I wouldnt stick on a minute, Slim said, and laughed.

When she heard him laugh, she almost liked him again. One thing for certain, he never claimed to do anything he couldnt do. The trouble was he just knew exactly what he could do, and what he wanted to do, and that made him different from other people, and that was why people didnt like him.

It wouldnt be half a minute, her brother said, almost snottily.

She turned her head on her arm and looked pensively at her brother, at the squarish shoulders under the old leather jacket and the squarish, strong face, which was smiling like he had the drop. He didnt have the drop on anybody. He didnt know what he could do and he didnt know what he wanted to do. All he could do was ride a horse, and she could do that as well as he could.

It wouldnt be half a minute, Ham repeated, with relish. Starlight would kill you.

That doesnt prove a thing, she said distinctly, just because Slim never had any riding lessons. I think what he said is perfectly true. People like to ride a horse just because they like to feel big. Especially, and she lingered on the word, looking at Ham, when they cant do anything else.

Yes, Slim Sarrett said, that I do not have that particular technique does not prove anything about the principle. But, he added, I imagine that one could become fairly proficient in the technique with a little practice.

When he said that she didnt like him any more. Why couldnt he keep his mouth shut sometimes? Sure, he could learn to ride a horse, any fool could learn to ride a horse, but why couldnt he keep his mouth shut?

For Christ sake, Ham said again, but not amiably this time.

Why couldnt they both keep their mouths shut, she thought, and looked again at the sky to the north.

She wondered if you could see the plane from here.

She stared at the bright sky and thought of being very high up, by herself, absolutely by herself, and looking down and seeing everything so little that you couldnt tell what it was, and you didnt care what it was any more. Like that time when she got in trouble at Miss Millfords School, and Miss Millford had her in and dressed her down and said they hadnt decided on the punishment, though it was serious, and that they had notified her father, and so she just walked right out on them and packed one bag and went into Boston and got a plane home. She had fixed that old witch. She wasnt going to have anybody talking to her like that, and once she was up in the plane she felt all by herself and free and it was like nothing that ever happened mattered any more, and she didnt care what was going to happen, or how her father would be when she got home.

Now, looking at the sky, she thought of Jerry Calhoun, somewhere in a plane, high up in that clear sky to the north, and was struck by a stab of envy, a sense of being trapped and earth-bound and betrayed.

She stared at the sky, squinting.

You can see the plane from here when the light is right, Ham said, as though he had read her thoughts, as though he had been eavesdropping or spying on her, and she felt a surge of anger at him.

Im not trying to see the plane, she retorted.

I heard the old man say Jerry was coming in on the afternoon plane, Ham said.

I told you Im not trying to see the plane, she snapped.

I heard the old man tell Anse something about meeting the plane. With the coupe, Ham said. I reckon hes supposed to bring Jerry out here.

Whos Jerry? Slim asked.

Jerry Jerry Calhoun, Ham began to answer, he s

Oh, she knew who Jerry Calhoun was, all right. She straightened up from the paddock rail suddenly, and turned away from the two boys, and moved toward the house.

Oh, she knew who Jerry Calhoun was. She knew all about him, all right. Oh, Jerry Calhoun was high up in the sky in a plane, and he was looking down on everything in the world like he owned it. But he didnt own her. Nobody owned her.