Greener Pastures - Alyssa Brugman [21]
10 A Matter of Arithmetic
When Shelby arrived home Aunty Jenny was there. She had come to Sydney to pick up some last-minute visas for her trip and was staying with Shelby's family overnight. Shelby and Aunty Jenny were bringing in the washing while Shelby's mum cooked. Her dad was running a bath for the boys.
Shelby's great-aunt was looking really healthy. She had been going to the gym in preparation for some of the treks she was going to make when she was away. Shelby thought this trip was the best thing Aunty Jenny had ever done. Having an adventure to look forward to had given her a new attitude to life.
Shelby asked, 'Are you nearly ready for your trip?'
Her great-aunt nodded. Her eyes were twinkling. 'I've bought new luggage. I have my tickets and my itinerary. I've decided I'm only going to take a few changes of clothes and then I'm just going to buy clothes when I'm over there. I can keep them as souvenirs. I'll post them back to myself when I have too many.'
'Good idea.' Shelby smiled. 'You're probably less likely to get mugged if you're dressed like the locals,' she added. Then she blushed.
Her great-aunt laughed. 'I can't believe it's nearly here. I have been planning it so long, and here we are, only a few days away. Have you had a chance to look at the brochures about the riding tours your father has been talking about?'
Shelby nodded quickly and then looked away. She didn't want to talk about that.
'What happened to Rex?' Shelby asked.
Rex had been Aunty Jenny's first horse.
Aunty Jenny's face fell, and Shelby wished she hadn't brought it up. 'He got colic and my dad had to shoot him. I was about eleven at the time. Rex had gotten into something. It might have been crofton weed or Paterson's curse. Maybe some of the hay we had was mouldy. Who knows? He was in a lot of pain. I can still remember him lying there with sweat dripping off him, panting like a dog and groaning. He had rolled and rolled, and got himself cast against a fence, the poor old thing.'
Shelby could picture the horse in her mind. She had an image of her great-grandfather with a shotgun over his arm, taking aim. How would you know where to shoot? It would take a lot of confidence that you were doing the right thing.
She murmured, almost to herself. 'How could you let your dad shoot him?'
'Animals die, Shelby,' her great-aunt said. 'He was going to die anyway. It would have been much more cruel to make him suffer.'
Shelby looked doubtful.
'They tell you when they've had enough. You'll know it when you see it,' Aunty Jenny told her.
Shelby folded a pair of jeans against her chest and placed them in the basket. 'I hope I never see it.'
'If you have horses for long enough, you will have to put one down eventually. It's a simple matter of arithmetic,' Aunty Jenny said. 'There are realities about owning animals – particularly large animals – that you have to come to terms with.'
'I have a friend whose pony is sick,' Shelby said. 'I think he's in lots of pain already, but she doesn't know enough about horses to see it. Her dad thinks a vet is too expensive.'
'Well, I feel very sorry for that pony,' Aunty Jenny replied.
They each took an end of a sheet, folding it in half and half again. Shelby took the corners from Aunty Jenny, and made the last two folds, laying the sheet across the top of the basket.
'I have the removalists coming in next week to pack up most of my furniture and put it in storage,' Aunty Jenny said. 'That way there will be room for all your things. Have you decided which room is going to be yours yet?'
Shelby blanched. 'Um, no. I suppose Mum will pick for us.'
'I bet the boys will be glad to get their own rooms,' Aunty Jenny added. Then she started talking about all of the different places that were within walking distance of the house. 'There's the beach, of course, which you have discovered already, but there's also a lovely reserve ...'
Shelby tuned out. She was thinking. It had been in the back of her mind all weekend, but she hadn't really let it surface.
If she was