The words cracked out of my scarcely used mouth, but in symmetry caught the wind and flowed into one of the grey’s big, floppy ears. It flicked back, in the direction of my voice, and the horse instinctively came down from a bouncing trot to a steady walk.
My back had become rounded now from forcing myself not to fall forward on Shoelaces’ wither, since by doing that I would get an unkindly blow to my pelvis. Had I been using a saddle, I would have allowed Shoelaces to continue on at his springing trot. But not today, not on his day off when I merely sat upon the big gelding with my hands wrapped around his strands of white mane, hair blowing in the wind and legs hanging loose under me.
I didn’t have much of a say in where we were going, but Shoelaces on his own had carefully plotted a trip around the big, green pasture I was riding around in. He had been here long enough to know the footing got rough and uneven towards the fence and he could easily trip. So instead he stuck to the inside of the uneven terrain, swiftly flashing his hooves out in front of him as he desperately felt the urge to canter.
“It’s your day off, remember?” I whispered to Shoelaces, leaning over his neck. “If you want to canter, do it when I’m off.” I had now gotten close enough I could wrap my arms around him, and I rubbed my sweaty palms on his light grey coat with small speckles of brown.
Shoelaces had then come down to an easier gait, but I could tell he had a piece of fire inside and wanted to get rid of his riddance of energy. I grinned, sitting back up on his old, rickety back. I then realized Shoelaces had been spinning us in smaller circles, and I found it was time to conclude. Not having any sort of power, I sat back and tightened my hold on his mane.
The grey gelding came to a very, very slow walk at that point and he pointlessly clambered along, making up no ground. I would have slid off then, but it was a long way down from Shoelaces and my short stature would have a difficult time landing without a bobble. Alas, I said a sharp “whoa” and Shoelaces finally came to a halt.
I leaned forward, loosening my hands as I kicked my left leg over his speckled flank. I caught him in the rump, but a sandal on my foot wasn’t enough to startle the grey. He stood calm and quiet as I finally hit the rough, thick stalks of grass and came forward at his face. When Shoelaces saw me, he stretched out his head and eagerly awaited my next command.
I extended my arm, putting my hand on Shoelaces’ long, slightly roman nose that pointed out at me. I could see the gelding’s deep dark eyes looking into me, his eyelids tensely curled back so he could get a could peek. I looked right back into them, smiling as I ran my hand up and down him almost forgetting where I was and if we even existed. I am with you, Shoelaces, I thought to myself.
I finally did pull away, and Shoelaces responded by rocketed off of his hind end, spinning around and bolting off to the far end of the field. For an old horse, he had kicks. We didn’t exactly know how old he was, but based off of his teeth and gangly back we suspected he was almost ready to hit his twenties. Not that his age mattered, though. The gelding thought he was five, and was extremely athletic and well mannered. For an old horse, he did keep his form with his long legs and built, strong body.
I began to walk away and towards the nearly broken wood gate, but I couldn’t help but throw glances back at the horse. He was still tearing up dirt as if there was another horse out there nipping at his feet to get him going. I didn’t smile for much, but Shoelaces was an exception. He always brightened my day, to matter the circumstance.
When I finally swung open the gate and clicked it shut after a few tries with the rusted metal, I figured I would pass through the barn that loomed in front of me. That, too, could use some touchups with the roof uneven and the wood splintering. It was only big enough to fit six horses, but never occupied that many. Only Shoelaces and the other mare were kept at our place.
As soon as I stepped through the open arc leading to the run down little barn, a whiskery, brown head peeking out of one of the stalls greeted me. A wispy stripe went down her face, now ticked off from age. Bristling her graying nostrils, the mare stretched out her head and rolled her eyes forward so I could see the whites. Like Shoelaces, she was well aged but never acted like it.
“Hello, Trudy.” I said, giving the mare a pat. “How are you on this fine day?”
The mare responded by flicking an ear, breathing even louder. Eventually she got bored of me rubbing my hand down her dusty face, and brought her refined head back into the stall. In younger days, she would have stood taller and prouder with a perfectly groomed coat and hooves trimmed, black mane tied up in show braids. But now Trudy was older, not the young, winning warmblood she used to be, and her hip and backbones protruded more then they used to. Her coat was no longer shined to perfection, and on her face there always was a slight dip where the noseband would be. Not that any of that mattered, though. She was always sweet and could still work.
I began to walk away, thinking of how she may have been a better bareback mount for the day. Sure, she had a big, aching wither bone much like Shoelaces, but Trudy was smooth all day long. Back in her days, she was famous for her flat-footed trot and rocking horse canter that the rider could sit to all day long. While she wasn’t as striking, the feel to her and gaits stuck.
I eased in the direction of our house, considerably larger than the rickety barn the horses were kept at. The paint once begun to peel on the edges of the wood boards wrapping around, but a new layer of white paint over the rough edges left it just as rough but with more color. The two floors to the house were visible, the chimney on top useless in the beat of the sun. I didn’t see why all of this was necessary, seeing as only three people lived in that house and I was never in anyway.
It was an easy walk along a broken gravel road to get to the typical Wisconsin house. The door was slightly ajar, being held by a shiny grey stone. This probably meant my mom was cooking, or Rambo the dog had once again gone astray. I made way up the brick steps, and being too lazy to push open the door, I moved and flexed my body so I slipped in without making a sound.
My mom was sitting at our table right away, which meant it was Rambo who probably ran off somewhere like a lunatic. Seated in an exquisitely carved wooden chair, I pulled one up right away and slipped in beside her. My mom looked up at me, her young-looking face’s slight indentations of age showing more then ever. My lips were sealed, and I looked up at the brown haired woman.
“What’s new, Stella?” She asked, her voice light much like the sun today.
“I rode Shoelaces bareback.” I said this with a shrug, now staring at my folded hands that were set on the wood table to match. My lips pressed together, making a stunning silence.
“I don’t see how you managed to make something out of that darned rescue.” My mom laughed, shaking her head. “I thought I was going to have a heart attack when you and your father brought him back on your trailer instead of a youngster like you promised. But no, you went for the starving looking horse at the auction. That’s my Stella, always caring for others.”
I looked back at her, narrowing my eyes. “You once were in the business. Wouldn’t you know anything has a chance?” I said this without expression, pulling a sigh.
“Yes, but not like this.” She smiled, shaking her head. “I rode at a big barn on show horses that already knew their job. The only project I really had was Trudy, who I got when she was two. If you can believe it, that mare was a handful. Did I ever tell you the story of how we got Trudy?”
“No.” I said, shaking my head. I knew my mom would ramble on.
“Well, I was at the peak of my junior years, and one of my hunters went lame on the lease. We lost a hold of him, and by now your grandmother had become finished and stressed with the whole horse business. She didn’t want me to get another horse, but I persuaded her to get me a cheap little green.” My mom told me, leaning in close.
I nodded her on. This is how our household always went. My mom was a big talker, and I hardly spoke at all. People were amazed that I was a child of a Townsend, the biggest speakers of the town. It wasn’t that I was shy; I just didn’t feel the need to speak unless I really needed to. I turned my attention back to my mother, and I couldn’t help but feel I may have heard this story five times before.
“Trudy was difficult, and my mom wasn’t thrilled with the idea of a new horse at all.” My mom laughed, shaking her head. “So, to feel some sort of sense of accomplishment, your grandmother made me name the mare after herself, Trudy. She was sure amazed when she went on to win a class at finals.”
I smiled, my brown eyes looking back into my mother’s. I was a mirror image of her, the wavy brown hair falling behind me to match my brown, almost hazel gemstone eyes. She too was short, which I adapted easily from her. People say I didn’t resemble my father at all, being a tall, built blonde man with green eyes like the sea. The only thing I got from him was my stubborn attitude and ability to cook something edible. Even if I hadn’t, I’m sure I would have learned anyway being the child of a restaurant owner.
“Where’s Dad?” I ask, tilting my head as I ran my fingers along the shiny table.
“He might be out back.” My mother told me. “Why?”
“Just wondering.” I said with a shrug.
I lifted myself from the table, taking one moment to stretch out before climbing out of the chair and slowly beginning a walk to the porch outside. Before getting there and about to reach for the door handle on the screen, I paused, glancing to the turning staircase going upstairs. Once more I looked to the door, but ended up turning back around and heading to the stairs.
I slipped along quietly, and when I reached the stairs I put my foot on the creaky wood and my hands along the black railing. I ran my hand along it, seeing the paint was beginning to flake much like everything else on the property. I snuffled my nose at it, figuring I would tell my dad about it sometime later. It was a problem that probably wouldn’t be revisited for quite some time, forgotten in a fray of other, more important problems.
I turned left when I got halfway up the stairs since they then turned. My feet hit the end of each stair in hopes of becoming quieter as I made my way up, but it was hopeless. The stairs creaked every time I stepped on one, which made late night getaways almost impossible.
I finally made it up the stairs, and my bedroom was right down the hall. Padding along the newer, glossy wood I passed over an oriental rug before pushing open my white door. Unlike others, my door had a newer handle and was freshly painted. It clicked right open, not making too much noise when I made my way inside.
Right away, my bedroom fell before my eyes. I had a very large light blue rug covering the majority of the floor, and my walls were painted a color to match. It took a lot of persuading to my parents for them to change up a room and stop the hunt-themed house pattern, but in the end I got my way. My bed was much the same, close to the floor and blue bed sheet so I could always see my favorite color. A wooden nightstand lay beside it, a lamp in the far end of the room. The only thing to separate my room of being a typical town girl’s room were my pictures of horses framed on the walls and my array of model horses in my always-opened closet. I looked at all of the horsey aspects, grinning to myself. I don’t care how old I would become and what people would say, but I was sure I would never become too old for horses. They were my everything.
I scurried over to the full body mirror in my closet, which was why I came up in the first place. I looked at myself, seeing the flakes of shavings stuck to my shorts and few pieces of hay tangled into my sloppy ponytail. I was very surprised with the weather today, since Wisconsin was usually freezing, even in April like it was now. I rolled my eyes at the strangeness of the situation, and picked the hay out of my hair and whisked the shavings off of my shorts. Owning a high-end restaurant, my father hated to say any sorts of contaminating objects on anything I wore. He probably would send me off to do a job for him, and if he did I knew I would have to look at least presentable. What I really wanted to ask him was where he put the laptop, because I was behind in my home-schooling classes and for once I actually cared.
I climbed back down the steps, rubbing a hand over my forehead. I knew I should take in the heat as best as I could, because it would probably go back to being cold and musty within a few days. So even if my dad did send me out to do a job, I wouldn’t mind.
I made it to the bottom, and looking in front of me I noticed my mother was still in the kitchen but now starting up the coffee machine. She could never go anywhere without a cup of coffee, that’s for sure. Sometimes if she was feeling generous, I could get a cup for when I left in the wee hours of the morning to care for the horses. But not today, and I didn’t need any coffee anyway. It was already noon.
I finally got to the backdoors, and slid open a handle. My dad was, as my mother said, out back on the porch fixing something on one of our lawn furniture chairs. I suspected it was one that had a crooked leg that would tilt when you sat in it. He was deep in his work, and didn’t even notice me when I swaggered down to the wooden fence wrapped around the porch. I leaned against it, looking into the rolling blue sky.
I was there for about ten seconds before my father looked up from his work and noticed me. Startled, he jumped a second before only realizing it was his daughter. He put the chair down, standing up. I heard his back crack, which meant he had been there for a while working on the chair. I looked at him, not saying a word. I waited for him to speak first, a mere hello, but he was all work today.
“Stella! Can you take the truck over to the Macpherson’s to get some eggs?” He asked me before I could put a word in.
I narrowed my eyes. I had a nagging urge to defy what my father said and tell him about my classes, but I didn’t really mind. The Macpherson’s were friends, and instead of getting eggs from all of the top-notch places we ordered from for food we would get theirs to support them. They lived not too far out in the small Wisconsin town, and wouldn’t take too long. On a normal day, I would have said something like ‘Sure, Dad’ or ‘Of course, now?’ but not today. I shrugged my shoulders, glancing into his eyes for only a moment. “Ok.”
He tossed the keys to the old truck to me, and I caught them skillfully in my nimble fingers. I looked down at them once, the keys clicking as I moved them in my fingers. I slowly strayed back towards the door, but felt no need to go back inside. Instead, I doubled back and skipped down the porch stairs into our vast backyard. Unlike a lot of our place, we always kept the grass back there finely cut and hole-free because I had a few makeshift jumps out there and that was where I did my serious riding. It wasn’t much, but it was enough for me.
I scrambled to the right, jogging and treading lightly along the side of the house. In the distance I could see Shoelaces in his pasture nibbling on grass, obviously having calmed down since when I last saw him. When I got back from fetching the eggs I would turn Trudy out, and later I would feed them. But then I drew my head from the clouds and focused on the task ahead upon seeing the silver truck sitting idle in the gravel road in front of our house.
I clicked the open button on the keys, and the truck sprung to life. The headlights flashed, a deep metallic sound coming from the interior. It then went still, but would jump alive once I started it up. I opened the driver’s side door, sliding my bottom into the worn, holey leather seat. Some old wrappers were in the front of the truck, an empty drive-through cup in the cup holder. I rolled my eyes. There wasn’t ever a time the truck wasn’t a mess.
I put the key in and turned to truck into ignition. Clicking my seatbelt on, I then looked in front of me. Being young and short, I had to careen my neck upwards in order to see out of the dirty window. Taking the truck out of park, I backed it up so that I was turning out of the entrance of our house.
I put the car in drive, slowly putting my foot on the gas. The truck crept forward, going at a considerably slow pace. I was a faint-hearted person, and having nearly no experience at the wheel I didn’t have the guts to start out at the speed limit. I carried on with the slow, creeping pace until I pulled out of our driveway and turned left, leaving me out on the road. No cars went along it, and as far as I was concerned our small Wisconsin town was deserted.
I sped the truck up a little bit, going along the lane in a straight lane. I couldn’t help but imagine I was on a horse as I drove the truck along, speeding up and slowing does as if I was pulling the reins or squeezing with my legs. Big, tall dark green trees line the road, almost everywhere except for the driveways leading into all of the properties. The majority of the farms were to the left, being open space with not much civilization. That’s where our house was, having enough space to fill in with a barn, pastures, and horses. To the right, where I was driving along, was more so of houses. The ‘downtown’ area was in that direction, but only consisted of a few chain restaurants and stores here and there. But if you continued going down the road, a calmer, small business area would lay before you and cleaner looking shops scattered it. Up there included our family restaurant, the Hunt Club.
My mind was wandering off now, thinking of harmless things like riding Shoelaces and turning out Trudy. I thought of how my night would be, bland like the rest of them. I didn’t have anything to do when I wasn’t riding, which is why I never cared when my father sent me off to do jobs. Then again, maybe tonight I could ask him if I could go hang out at the Hunt Club. After all, I always caught the eyes of local people I could chat with.
It always ended up being the local adults and their little kids I chatted with, because blatantly there was a lack of kids my age around here. If there was, I wouldn’t know who they were which wouldn’t seem logical because this town was so small I practically knew everyone. But then again, there might be someone a small ways away that I didn’t know about. But that was why I was home-schooled. The only school around here was terrible, the classes were tiny, and everyone my age lived farther out.
I had been going along at my easy, fluid pace for about forty seconds when I saw a flash of black out of the corner of my eye come hammering from the right. I didn’t know what to do in that split second, hardly even knowing what it was, but the speeding color came whizzing by so fast I wouldn’t have been able to act if I wanted to.
The end of the car pulling- no speeding out of the driveway hit the old truck like a locomotive. Right away I felt my weight become jerked forward from my foot being taken off the pedal and the little skimpy car pushing the truck to the left. I felt the whiplash right away, and a gasp escaped my lips as I raised a shaking hand on my shoulder where the seatbelt was on tight. I felt the burn from the material holding me back, and I could hear the pieces falling away from the right side of the truck.
At least the shattering sound I heard was gone, I thought to myself. I knew the truck was busted, and as all finally went silent my mouth was agape and I had raised my hands all the way up. I prayed it was just a car that wasn’t in park and rolled out, but a nagging voice was telling me that wasn’t the case. I just prayed I wouldn’t get caught.
Barely having the will to do a thing, I slowly and shakily opened my door and unclipped my seatbelt. The thing clung to me for a moment before snapping back into the holder, and I inched out of the truck. Never in my life had I experienced something like that, and my weak heart could hardly bear it. From the right, I noticed a young lady leaping from her ivory black car and speedily walking towards me. Unlike myself, she didn’t seem effected by the crash at all.
I came around the turn to get a good look at her. She was young, probably in her late twenties, and her face wore an enraged expression. Usually, I knew everyone around these parts but I didn’t recognize her. Unlike most of the pale, brown-haired Wisconsin residents, she seemed to have possibly faint Latina roots based off of her tanned skin and dark hair she wore back in a ponytail. Wearing a black tan top and some jeans, she seemed like someone that didn’t come around here often. Even though the girl was small in stature, she imitated me greatly.
Before I could get within speaking range, she yelled out in a harsh yet placid-sounding, medium pitched voice. “What was that? Why didn’t you stop and see I was pulling out?” I leaned back.
Eyes wide with shock and surprise, I shook my head. “You came zooming out of there with no warning. I don’t see how that’s my fault.”
“You watch your tone!” The girl yelled again. “Because of you, the back of my car is screwed.”
“Me?” I pointed to myself. “I consider that reckless driving.”
She was fuming now, having moved up towards me. Wearing a grimace, her fists continued clenching and unclenching. I didn’t understand how she could have blamed it on me, as I was going at an easy pace and she came tooling out of there with no warning. I narrowed my eyes, putting my hands on my hips. I wasn’t going to make the next move, but leave it to her. If she was going to make an argument, then I would be waiting. But it was an argument I could win.
“You don’t even look driving age.” She snapped again. “How old are you?” I snuffled my nose in disgust.
“My age doesn’t account for this crash, your driving does.” I smirked, adding a little color and expression to my otherwise neutral face.
“I’m a cop.” The girl then hissed. This threw me off. I was shaking now after those words, and that was the worse for me. I bit my lip, leaning backwards. I knew I was in trouble now.
“Fifteen.” I said quickly and quietly.
“You do realize it’s against the law for you to be driving then with out supervision?” She said, huffing and puffing. “Look who’s guilty now?”
“Well, can I see your badge?” I asked, trying to keep it cool.
The girl froze. I could see a rising fear in her eyes, and for a moment I thought she may be lying and I could actually get away. Now in an uncomfortable matter, she rubbed her fingers together and lacked the ability to make eye contact with me.
For a few seconds then there was an unbreakable silence. I could hear the faint clatter and steaming of a broken car and my own breath. Just then, the girl turned back to me and sighed. Her mouth kept opening and closing, as if she was thinking of what to say. Finally, she got a hold of herself and looked at me in the eye.
“I’m an ex-cop.” She said this quietly.
I couldn’t help but laugh a bit. I was truly scared for a moment there, thinking for a second I would get caught. But I never did around these parts. Nobody ever cared if a fifteen year old was driving alone in a lonely Wisconsin town. In fact, I had even been driving the thing around when I was fourteen. I got a permit, but it didn’t really matter anyway. The girl seemed irritated by my laugh, and she looked away in disgust.
“Look.” She said blankly, getting more composure in how she spoke. I could tell she was a lot quieter now, and her voice almost became soothing. “I’m sorry for yelling and totaling your car, but I was in a bit of a rush.”
“Whatever.” I shrugged. “It was almost time for us to get a new truck anyway. Who are you? I’ve never seen you around here.”
“The name’s Louisa.” She said.
“Louisa what?” I ask. “You new here?”
“Louisa Wylde.” She finished, letting her hands fall to her sides. “And yeah. Pretty new.”
“Where are you from?” I ask again. This is what I always did when someone else came along. I always liked to know everybody to keep them in my address book in my head.
“Jersey.” She said, looking away. I raised a brow. “I was a cop there.”
“But not anymore?” I tilt my head, and Louisa became unsettled for a second. “What happened?”
“Look, lets not get into that.” Her eyes widened. “You need a ride somewhere? My car doesn’t look that bad.”
“Can you bring me over to our house?” The words came out of my mouth right away. My parents always told me to not get in a car with someone I didn’t know, but there was some sort of trusting air around Louisa. Not to mention, I never cared for rules in the first place. Besides, I it wasn’t like I could drive the truck back.
“Hop in.” Louisa told me.
I skipped over to the side door. The eggs would have to wait. Because my house was only a minute away driving, I could have walked if I wanted to. But me, being the person who wants to know everyone, wanted to get to know Louisa. She seemed troubled as far as I was concerned, but I pushed it away.
“If you turn left and keep going down the road, it’s a minute off.” I tell Louisa, who starts the car. It trembles for a second, but seemed to be working fine.
She nodded her head in response, deep in concentration as she weaved her scar skillfully around the old truck, which had its right side in three different pieces. Even making sure to not roll over any glass, Louisa freed us from the crash site and had us moving along the road. I was impressed with that. Her hectic yet skillful driving was probably a skill she learned back at Jersey.
I ran a hand along my straining whiplash, which stung when I clicked the new seatbelt over me. I was surprised I managed to get out of that unscathed, even though I had a flying car back come flying through my window. I wasn’t sure what I would tell my parents; especially my father who treated the truck like it was his own child.
Now that we were in the other lane, to my surprise I noticed some more cars coming in from the other direction. Have fun driving around my car, I thought to myself. I bit my lip. Within a few seconds we had pulled up to the front of our driveway, and I turned back to Louisa who didn’t quite know where she was going.
“Stop right here.” I tell her, eyeing our tall white home.
She screeched to a stop, allowing me to open the door. I scooted out, a sandal falling as I made my way to the pavement. I slipped my foot back into it, turning to Louisa who stared out of my open door. I grinned, but not too broadly as my day had much more excitement then I was used to.
“Thank you. Will I see you around?” I asked Louisa, awaiting to close the door.
“Yeah, no problem.” She smiled back. “I’ll see you.”
With another weak, half-smile I set off on the walk up our long, gravel driveway to my home. I worried a bit, wondering how I was going to explain to my mother and father that their truck was a goner. I mumbled under my breath, praying they would understand. My mom might, but my dad might not.
I looked left to see that Shoelaces was now calm and grazing in his field. I would have to put Trudy out there, but not at the moment. She could wait. For now, I began the perilous hike to my suspected doom.
I pushed open the door to our house, instantly feeling the rush of cool air. My dad was no longer working in back, and had instead come inside and was sitting on one of our couches in the living room. My mom I could hear upstairs, stomping around as she probably tried to put together some sort of outfit for when we went over to the restaurant today. I wish I could be there now so I could slink away and disappear, but not for now. I would have to wait two hours, and by then my family would be asking what ever happened to the truck. With a deep breath, I padded softly to the living room.
Right there, sitting on the leathery black couch, was my father. He looked like he was trying to get a nap in, but he wasn’t successful based off of his labored breath and flickering eyelids. I was biting my lip so hard it could bleed now, but then I sighed. I was Steady Stella. I could do this.
I tapped my finger on my father’s shoulder, and instantly he sprung awake with a bit of a shocked look to see me. I didn’t know why though, since grabbing eggs from the farm down the road didn’t take much time and it was about time I got back anyway. But then again, usually I did it without another word. He rose to a sitting position, turned to me as he awaited my first word. But of course, he would have to speak before I did.
“Stella?” He questioned, face neutral for now. “Did you get the eggs?”
“No.” I was ready to go in a full-out explanation, but my heart stopped me first.
My father’s face crinkled up. “Why?”
“I crashed the truck.”
My father leapt to his feet, instantly steaming. I knew this would happen, but I was suspecting it. I stayed cool; my eyes looking up to my tall, hovering father who looked like he could lift the truck up and carry it back home without a hint of sweat. His face was turning red. The truck was old and we needed a new one, but it had sentimental value for my father. I could tell in his eyes there would be more to this conversation.
“Stella, what happened?” He asked hastily. “Where is the truck?”
I thought for a second. My dad wouldn’t back down to a fight, and I knew that. Not to mention Louisa was new here, and I didn’t want her to get in any sort of trouble. My father would go knocking on her door if he knew she was the reason it crashed. No, better leave that out of the story.
“The old thing’s steering got locked up and we crashed into a tree.” I lie, careful not to look uncomfortable so he wouldn’t notice. “Louisa, the new neighbor gave me a ride back.”
“Louisa?” My dad instantly spat. “That crazy cop from Jersey? What were you thinking?”
“She’s actually kind.” I nod. “Anyway, it’s just down the road.” I look up with despairing eyes, hoping my calm attitude would help cool my father down. It didn’t.
With a huff, he marched down the hall and grabbed his jacked off the wall. No, he more so ripped it. I heard the clatter of the door, and hear it slam against the frame. Some part of me suspected he wouldn’t go searching for Louisa, but rather his truck. He would let that stunt slide for now.
I decided to go somewhere where my feelings couldn’t get hurt. The barn. Not to mention, Trudy really needed to get turned out. Even if I did get grounded, my parents knew I still had to go to the barn to care for the horses, and nobody else could do it. There was no possible way to punish me, because horses were the only things that mattered. It didn’t matter if I couldn’t ride, but as long as I could be with them I was the happiest person on earth.
I slowly made way back to the kitchen and pushed open the door. Again, the sun beat down on my face and I instantly heard the chatter of birds. I would spend as much time outside as I could, a hot day in April being few and far between. Once May would come, the days would gradually become more often but we would get a lot of rain. Rain meant less riding.
I slowly walked over to the barns where Trudy would be dozing off in the light. Shoelaces perked an ear as he noticed me walking back towards the barn, but he would get to be out there until I left for dinner and he would get his hay. It must be a good life to be a horse, I thought to myself. He doesn’t seem to have a care in the world.
I walked into the barn, and right away was greeted by a nicker from Trudy. I smile. She always was sweet, even if she got crabby when you rode her. It could be slightly hard to believe the old mare was once True to You, a small junior hunter that racked up blue ribbons from Junior Hunter Finals all the way to Harrisburg in the amateurs with my own mother. She had long since changed, as that was almost twenty years ago. Now, she was my horse that I would take on a walk or maybe even hack her around the trails or in the pasture.
I grabbed Trudy’s red halter, new and fresh unlike her. I just bought it a month ago, because hers was getting quite old and the fibers had sprung out in some places. I opened Trudy’s stall, and right away she tried to push past me but I stood in her way. I put the halter over her ears and clipped it with the throatlatch, but it was easy to tell she wanted to get out now. She would be out there soon enough.
I didn’t need a lead for Trudy; since she was so well mannered and old that just a hand latched onto the halter was enough. Even though she was especially frisky today, it didn’t matter. My hand on her halter, I led the energetic mare to the pastures where Shoelaces now lifted his head and perked his ears, awaiting his friend. I could see the humor in his eyes, just waiting for me to let go. And alas, when I opened the gate and let go of Trudy, she instantly began cantering out towards Shoelaces who in return squealed and cantered around with her.
I just can’t imagine a life without horses.
I sighed, itchy in my nicer outfit as I leaned against the wall in the back of the Hunt Club. The horses were already back inside and fed, and like all the nights I tiredly sat around at our restaurant. Yes, it was quite busy tonight as it always was on a Friday, but had a strong lack of locals. I knew why. This was a horse show weekend for all of the people who rode on the A circuit nowadays, and the top-notch barn families always wanted a nice restaurant to go to.
I had already eaten a bowl of tonight’s soup, some sort of marvelous red pepper cream mixture. It almost made me laugh thinking that we had a restaurant so high-end in a place like nowhere Wisconsin and that it actually attracted people. I guess that was because it was almost a place to go and laugh about. But it didn’t matter, as long as it got customers and paid off then all was well.
My mother was back in the kitchens, my father skulking around to make sure there was not one thing out of order. He was steaming about the old truck still, as he had to have it towed. I avoided him at all costs, and his burning mind caused him to be extra alert, as he made sure all customers got exactly what they wanted.
I would rather be at home with the horses, but I had no choice. I had to come here almost every night, just about. Sometimes I could stay at home, but not usually. At least tonight was a little better, because I could sit and listen to all of the equestrian conversations going on.
I had already picked up lines such as “What a mare that was!” or “My horse has such a short stride!” Even “I can’t believe I didn’t win that class!” It almost amazed me how some people could vary from humble, kind horsemen all the way to snobs. Being the girl with two old horses on a farm, I didn’t fit in with any of them. But I wish I did. I always wanted to experiment in the “Junior Hunters” or the “Hunter Derbies” I always hear them say. But I knew I wouldn’t exactly get the chance. No, I definitely wouldn’t get that chance.
I had wandered to the front of the restaurant where Susie, one of the girl’s who worked for us, was busy checking in reservations. She saw me, and right away brightened up with her eyes. She was a hyper, always-smiling girl but a worrier too. I could see the lines of stress beginning to show on her forehead, and I could see why. She was getting phone call after phone call and there was a group of ten varying from adults to teens that had come and needed a table. Right away, I could tell they were the equestrian type. One girl even had on a pair of breeches, and she probably didn’t get the chance to change after schooling today. I wanted to ask them everything, but I knew how to bite my tongue. Susie desperately tried to pull herself from the phone, but we were busy. With a smile, I turned to her.
“Don’t worry, I’ve got it.” I tell her, grabbing a pile of menus.
This is what usually ended up happening on a busy day. Having grown up around here, if things were hectic I could easily step in and help out. I remembered seeing one of our larger tables empty from when I was wandering, and I could bring these people over there. They smiled at me, some looking a little confused. They clearly didn’t know I was the daughter of the restaurant owners, but it didn’t matter. I could get them just where they needed to be.
I walked for a bit, and then set the menus down on a long, rectangular table that was already cleaned and set. The adults set themselves down first, but I couldn’t help but pick up a conversation coming from two girls behind me.
“Did you hear about Trust? How he’s out for the rest of the season?”
“No! Are you kidding? He won Derby Finals last year. That’s crazy. I thought he would get it again this year.”
“Me too, but I guess not. I should go on Twister.”
“Yes, because you totally can place at the most prestigious derby on your equitation horse.”
I had heard of that name a few times before. Derby Finals, otherwise known as Hunter Derby Finals had been a show running for a few years now. As long as you earned five hundred dollars in a Derby before June, you could qualify. But it wasn’t easy. Every horse there was six figures and was an equine that simply everyone had heard of. You wont find any unknowns at Derby Finals, and all the winners were dreams. The first winner I didn’t know of, but I heard it died in a barn fire. Two other horses won, and then it was Trust, a gorgeous bay stallion who took the victory last year. I streamed the footage live, and witnessed the horse’s breathtaking beauty.
I wanted to turn around and join it, but that would be considered impolite. Besides, I wasn’t a person to talk anyway. But I did catch how both girls looked; the first one that spoke was a girl about my height with straight, dark hair and paler skin. The other girl was a tall, wavy haired blonde who was stick thin and had the equitation look that the judges just loved. They continued to chatter, and I set menus out in front of them. Just then, I don’t know what overtook me, but I opened my mouth and began to speak.
“Here for the horse show?” I ask, putting the last one down.
The blonde instantly jumps up. “Yeah! We go to all of them.”
I instantly felt a sort of envy for them. How I wished I could go to all the shows every weekend. But I wouldn’t let that show. That would be frowned upon if I began to pout while waiting on customers. I simply smiled, ready to turn.
“Nice, well good luck.” I tell them, and begin to turn away.
It was then the voice coming from the darker haired girl who leaned forward and looked to me that I could see out of the corner of my eye. She took me by surprise, because normally the customers didn’t care less about any of the people working here and certainly never engaged in a conversation. But sure enough, she spoke out again.
“Do you ride?”
I whirled around, eyes wide. “Yes, I live around here and have two horses.”
“Oh!” She smiled. “Do you show?”
I shrugged. “I wish, but no.”
The blonde then spoke up, her voice being snappy. “Oh my god, but you should!”
“Yeah, Zone Five only has the worst parties in all of the nation!” The other girl said.
“Well, who knows.” I shrugged. “Maybe.”
“I hope you do.” The kinder looking girl said with a smile, before getting absorbed in a conversation with her friend.
I turned around. I never really engaged with any customers like I just did there. The shorter girl at least seemed my age, and she was a bright one. I wish I could have spoken to her about the circuit for the remainder of the day, but I knew I wouldn’t get the chance. With a sigh, I walked back over to Susie and mumbled to her. “Table Thirteen.”
She nodded, and right away I began to make my way over to the kitchen where I knew my mom would be. She was a cook; always making concoctions that would turn into the daily specials. She put together the soup tonight, and it warmed my heart. She always tried, and I respected that.
I spotted her over by the soups, probably obsessing over one tiny thing that might be wrong with it. It tasted perfect to me, but my mother always became OCD over food. Nothing wrong with that though, it made it even better. Hugo, our head chef was over there with her. Hugo was like my second father. If something was up, I could always go to him. We would always eat away our problems over a hot, buttery roll.
As I padded over to them, right away both Hugo and my mother turned around to face me. My mother seemed a bit surprised I was in the kitchen, because I rarely came over here. Hugo wasn’t surprised in the least, because he knew I would commonly slip into the kitchen and we would have long chats. He just seemed a bit confused of why I came over when my mom was here.
“It’s a busy show night.” I say with a shrug. Better start out what I wanted to talk about with something innocent.
“Yeah, its crazy.” She replied, sticking a spoon in her mouth.
“What if I showed on the A circuit?” I then throw at her.
My mom right away spat the soup from her mouth. Embarrassed, she grabbed a napkin and began wiping up the mess as she muttered her apologies to Hugo who looked like he would faint. But there was no way she could hide the bout of shock on her face. I never said much. Me expressing such a big idea surprised her to say the least.
“No, Stella.” My mom shook her head. “Not anymore. Now everything is politics and people there are- well, it’s a zoo. Besides, we can’t afford for you to travel around everywhere showing.”
“What if I just did the shows around here?” I then ask again with a tilt of my head.
My mom seemed a little irritated now. “No, just enjoy yourself when you ride. Not everything is showing, you know.”
“Of course not.” I shrug. “But it seems like a show might be fun.”