Horseshoes

Horseshoes have many parts. Each part is essential to the whole because there would be no shoe without one of those pieces. Papa told all his kids as they grew old enough to understand the same thing.

Mary Ellen thought Papa told Fibs because the family had already functioned without two parts: Mama and Jeffrey. It was like Mama and Jeffrey didn't exist. Mary Ellen rolled her eyes at her papa, "The resident windbag."

"Dale, are you there?" Mary Ellen said.

"Yeah. Why? What's up?"

"We're heading to the cabin this weekend. Grab some of your friends and join us. Just don't say anything in front of Mama or Papa."

"What girls did you invite?"

"You'll see," she said.

She took off her clothes and went to bed.

#

Even the teachers didn't want to be at school on Friday, and this particular Friday, we were dismissed earlier when someone pulled the fire alarm. We stood outside on the pavement for a half hour, and there was no sign of whether there was a fire or if someone had pulled it as a prank.

Four guys were an hour and a half behind four of the school's most popular girls on the cheerleading team. They were spunky and had many cheers, but they mostly loved games.

The guys brought some games, too. They were anticipating some fun and were looking for a good time. Jason brought some weed and a few other pills for anyone who needed them.

"Well, everything is in both cars, right?" Mary Ellen asked.

"Yeah. That's it," Harry, her brother, said.

They all got together, whipped up some appetizers, and the games came out. "Asshole" was first. Followed by "Michigan Rummy." But the eight began playing with spoons as soon as dinner and dessert were over and all the dishes were cleaned and put away.

They broke out the spoons and other harmless utensils to have one less spoon than players. They placed the spoons in the centre of the table, passed around two decks of cards with their hands, and discarded piles to find a match of eight.

Once a player gets all eight of the same numbered cards, that player nonchalantly takes a spoon, continuing the game in stride to not alert anyone else to the deception at work.

The conversation was lively.

"Yeah, Dale, we all know why you get an A in French class," the girls giggled.

"Why? You can't honestly believe that I'd want anything to do with 

Madame Faubert. She's closer to my mom's age than mine. The thought of that is disgusting." He pulled a spoon but kept his stride.

The game continued until Mary Ellen and her best friend fought for the last spoon. Everyone laughed as they watched Mary Ellen ruthlessly twist the fork out of Nessa's hand.

Drinks were poured, and the music was bopping. Jason pulled his bag of pills and six fat joints out and put them on the table in front of him. He lit the first joint with candlelight. Jason opened the window because some girls and guys didn't smoke.

Dale took another puff and passed the spliff to his left. Those who smoked took two tokes before they passed it along. The ring of smokers was smaller than the ring of non-smokers. Nessa fingered the bag of pills. Placing her fingertip on the orange pills.

She took three despite Dale's warning. That left three girls and two boys without anything in their systems. And yet, the game of spoons kept going on and on and on.

The game is getting livelier, and more focus is needed to produce the same output as when they started it. People were eating snacks, drinking, and letting loose, but not when they were fierce, like when they got a spoon from the centre of the table or wrestled it away from someone weaker.

It was relatively simple to miss the first take. But on a second check, you'd have to be pretty blotto or unable to focus on the game not to see spoons missing.

The round had gone on for a long time, and four people all saw the spoons missing at once. The boys grabbed it and pushed the girls away with their forearms.

The girls, desperate to remain in the game, grasped at straws to hang on to it. Their eyes darted across the room, looking for something to help them play better and increase their chances of getting at one of the two spoons.

Mary Ellen spied it first. The innocent fork lay off to the side, between herself and Nessa. She grabbed it without thinking and jammed it into one of the guys' forearms.

"Hey! What the heck? Take it out." he said.

"Oh no, let go of the spoon first."

"What? Are you daft? It's a game." Dale yelled.

"No. Are you? Game or not. Let go of the spoon." Mary Ellen ordered, glaring him in the eye.

Jason let go of his end of the spoon. It sent Dale ass over tea kettle out of his chair. That's when Jason helped Mary Ellen pierce Dale's other arm with the same fork as he helped his best buddy up off the floor.

The girls gasped, the guys ready to pull one from the other while Mary Ellen fixated on the spoon. She had to have it! She saw black! She was losing her grip.

She bit him. In the meat of his shoulder, Nessa found the first aid kit, and Jason got the peroxide, but only after running the wounds under a tap—they bandaged them.

The following day, minimal words were spoken between any of the groups. Dale finally talked after dinner.

"Look, everyone, I'm sorry for what happened last night; it was all my fault."

"Oh. I don't know about that. It takes two. I'm sorry, too," Mary Ellen said.

Once they cleared the air, the night got off to a better start. Spoons were off the table, spades and hearts were fun, and everyone went to bed happy with no injuries.

On Sunday, the two cars left separately and the boys and girls returned home safely. Dale's mother and father took a look at his arms and took him to the walk-in clinic. He had a severe infection at the sight of the bite and the sight of the fork punctures.

He was given a tetanus shot and antibiotics to kill the infection. But the antibiotics to kill his infection weren't strong enough, and after five months, Dale Petis died.

After the memorial where they lived, the kids headed back to the cabin. The parents released Dale's ashes to Jason since Dale's wish was to scatter them around the lake and cabin grounds, his favourite locations on earth.

But Mary Ellen spoke at the cabin that day before they spread Dale's ashes in the lake and around the grounds.

“Everyone who knows us knows what our family says about horseshoes: Horseshoes have many parts. Each part is essential to the whole because there would be no shoe without one of those pieces. 

“Dale will always be one of those pieces essential to making up our friends. We will never forget him because we have surrounded his memory by putting him in the yoke of our horseshoe. I invite you all to toast with me." She raised her glass and said, "To Dale.”