I was finding the real torment inside my head, getting right down to the heart of it. Lawrence stayed solidly by my side, waiting me out.
I took a shallow breath. “I just don’t want to be stuck at a certain point, never getting anywhere. I don’t want people to see me and say ‘Wow, she had something going for her. She could have made it, but she wasted herself on that draft cross.’” I gasped, straining against the emotion that was filling up my throat. “I’m just afraid that I’ll never make it. I’m working so hard, and I know it’s probably for nothing. I’ve lost years, and I don’t even know why. I don’t know why I make it so hard for myself, except that I’m just too weak to give up on him.” I shuddered. I was in that place I made it a point not to go.
Lawrence turned, facing me. He held me by the shoulders and I looked up at him, clinging to his face, keeping it in my eyes.
“How can you say that you’re weak?” He asked me. “How can you say that when you’ve taken a horse you believed in and made him into more, far more than anyone else would have even thought he could be? Working hard with what you’ve got and making it the best it can be, is that weak? Loving someone, is that weak?” He shook his head with feeling and looked at me again. “If you really believe that, then you’re looking at the weakest man on earth.” His face showed he believed what he was saying. I could sense all the life experience that had settled in behind his eyes.
I smiled, and let out a breath. I let myself believe he was right. And I knew I was right to have gone to him.
Lawrence
The guy whose entryway I was standing in was over six feet tall, but it didn’t do him any favors. He stood awkwardly with his neck low, like he was used to taking up less space. He still had the acne and stepped-on look of a high school kid.
Amber stepped in between us, apparently immune to the strangeness of the situation. “Dougie. Lawrence. Lawrence. Dougie.”
I raised a hand. “Hey.”
Dougie didn’t say anything, and moved off in the direction of a laptop. Amber went with him, and after a moment I shrugged and followed them.
Dougie leaned over the laptop, navigating through various files until he opened one. “Let me know if this works for you,” he said, stepping back quickly.
I bent down to get a better look, and saw myself splashed across the screen. Amber had shown up one day with a little digital camera I’d never seen before and ordered me onto Vegas. Apparently she’d handed the camera off to this Dougie guy, who’d imported the files to his computer and done his thing. I was looking at the result, and it was impressive. Vegas was frozen at the height of his stride, and I was balanced on his back, saddle-less, in my “real clothes” as Amber put it (white breeches, tall boots, polo shirt). My eyes were up and looking ahead. Amber had even caught me connecting with the ball.
All this was against a bronze-tinted beige backdrop. Darker lettering in a fancy font spelled out all the details of the clinic. The effect was very compelling. I stood there, slightly overwhelmed by all the work that had gone into this. The talent.
“Wow,” I said stupidly.
Amber shot me a glare. “Wow my ass. This is awesome.” She abandoned the laptop, and me. “Dougie, you’re a rock star.” She swung her head back toward me. “See, I told you! I fucking told you. Didn’t I? ”
Amber beamed at Dougie, who stood off to the side. He was still awkward as hell, but the guy looked happy. And why the hell not? Amber just called him a rock star. I suddenly understood Dougie’s motivation for taking on this project, understood it loud and clear.
Amber chattered with Dougie for a few minutes, working out some final details (stuff like special paper and quantity and stuff). Then suddenly we were leaving. I had to jog to the Harley to keep up with Amber. She was glowing. “This is so exciting! This is so on.”
Amber turned the key in the ignition and the engine responded with a few hacking coughs, then a powerful roar. She stomped on the gas, and the Harley took off eagerly, quickly leaving Dougie’s suburban street behind. I watched the identical beige houses blur in our wake.
Amber was talking steadily. “Dougie just has to get those things printed, and then we can stick them all over the place. We’ll start with the feed stores, tack shops and stuff, and then we’ll also put them up in any other business that’ll let us. That’s where you come in.”
“What for?”
“For schmoozing the business owners, dumbfuck.”
“Right. Because your complete inability to be nice makes you a terrible schmoozer.”
“Duh.”
Something little and silver showed up in the corner of my eye, and I glanced down at the seat between us. “You forgot to give that Dougie guy his camera,” I said.
Amber shook her head. “I didn’t. It’s mine.”
“But I thought it was his,” I said, confused.
“It was his. Now it’s mine.” Amber stayed focused on the road ahead.
I sat there silently for a minute. Something was eating at my subconscious. I glanced at Amber. There was a question in the back of my throat. I was a heartbeat away from opening my mouth and going for it.
Smoothly, and with timing that seemed very deliberate, Amber turned on the radio, deliberately bypassing a blaring Lady Gaga song and switching to classic rock.
Well, fuck it, I can’t ask now. I kept my mouth shut with some effort, allowing the rollicking Springsteen number to distract me from what I strongly suspected, but was slightly afraid to know for sure.
When we got back home I didn’t go inside with Amber. I walked around, taking a look at my horses. Searching for inspiration. I didn’t find it in the usual candidates, so I headed into the barn. I was just through the doorway when something came to me. I backed up and hung a quick right, coming within sight of Maude’s paddock. She looked up from the grass, hopeful for carrots. Then she seemed to realize my intent, and turned away.
I reversed my steps and snatched up a halter and lead. Maude thought about evading me, but her attempt was short-lived. Maude clearly hated to expend energy, even when it was for the greater good. She let me walk up to her and stood with a sour look on her face as I haltered her. She followed behind me, dragging slightly on the lead.
In the barn I gave her a short grooming, picking out her feet and moving the dust around. I set the brush down and looked over Maude’s back, trying to get a sense of which saddle would fit her best.
Amber came through the doorway, interrupting my concentration. “What’re you doing with Maude?”
“I’m gonna ride her in a minute.” I returned my focus to Maude’s sloping back. She had no muscle tone and her spine stuck out even though she had regained condition.
“Really?” Amber sounded intrigued if skeptical. “I thought she was retired.”
I rolled my eyes. “I’m not running an old horse retirement farm, Amber. There’s nothing wrong with Maude. Not physically, at least,” I added, glancing at the mare’s squinty eye. “There’s no reason she can’t be useful to someone. So I’ll give her a little refresher and put the word out. There’s gotta be some bleeding heart out there who won’t be able to resist her.”
“Besides you, you mean?”
I glanced at Amber, smiling a little at her self-satisfied smirk even though I meant not to. “Yeah. Besides me.”
I went into the tack room and located my narrowest saddle, then brought it out and set it on the mare’s back. Predictably, it didn’t come close it fitting. Eyeballing it for a minute, I returned to the tack room and dug around until I found some thick foam pads. I padded it up as best I could so the saddle didn’t sit directly on her spine, stepped back and declared it good enough. Maude remained steady as I tightened the girth. She looked pissed, but no more than usual. I brought out a bridle and held the plain snaffle under her mouth, sticking my thumb in the space between her teeth to get her to open up. Maude set her jaw and stared determinedly into space, clearly hoping I would just go away.
Amber tilte
d her head to the side. “I don’t think she wants to do this.”
“I don’t think I care.” I wrestled Maude’s mouth open and quickly stuck the bit in. She ground her teeth over it while I adjusted the bridle.
I reached back to tighten the girth a final hole. “Okay. I think we’re ready.” I clucked to Maude, pulling her along.
Amber followed at Maude’s side. “Aren’t you gonna wear your helmet?”
I snorted. “Amber. Maude’s a million years old. She’s been around the block, multiple times. And besides that, in order for her to buck me off she would have to pick up her feet.” I glanced back at Maude, who was as animated as usual. “I rest my case.”
When we got to the ring I pulled the stirrups down and got ready to mount. Maude shifted around, high-headed and braced. “Are you sure she’s ever been ridden?” Amber called, leaning on the rail.
“Of course she’s been ridden. Nobody keeps a horse around for thirty years that isn‘t broke.” I shook my head at the ridiculousness of the idea.
Amber still looked dubious. “Well, I’m documenting this for sure.” She held out her phone.
I shrugged. “Whatever. I’m sure it’ll be a thrilling video.” I held Maude in check with the reins and swung onto her back. She stayed on the spot as I settled into the saddle. “Good mare,” I said pleasantly, and cued her to walk on.
For a moment, nothing happened. The next moment, Maude lurched into motion, my shoulder slammed into the sand, and the rest of me followed. The rough texture of the footing stung my arm, and I could already feel a pulled muscle. I lay there a second, completely thrown. What the fuck just happened?
I stood up, taking in the scene around me. Amber was doubled over, incapacitated with laughter. The only thing keeping her on her feet was the arena fence. I looked around to see where Maude had gone, and I didn’t see her. I looked behind me, directly into her bony face. Maude stood in the same place I’d halted her before I got on, virtually in her original hoof prints. I stared at her, trying to work out what had gone down.
I heard Amber gasp. She was struggling for breath. “I bet - you’re wondering…what just happened,” she managed. “And lucky for you, I got it all on tape!” Amber dissolved into laughter again.
“Great. Thanks.” I stood there stupidly, feeling my defenses start to go up.
“Ohmygod. That was hilarious,” Amber chortled. “One little buck and you were so gone.”
I glared at Amber and Maude in quick succession. “I’m so glad you find this entertaining,” I snapped.
Amber looked at me, red-faced and shiny-eyed. “Oh, come on. It’s funny! The great Lawrence Cavanaugh, who can ride anything, gets taken down by an old grey mare! This shit is so going on YouTube.” She stared intently at her phone. “Let’s see, what should the title be? Lawrence Cavanaugh vs. Old Grey Mare? Revenge of the Old Grey Mare? Nah, it’s gotta have Lawrence Cavanaugh in the title…”
Dread was slowly overtaking me. “Amber. Please. Don’t.” My throat was dry; my voice cracked a little. “Please,” I repeated.
Amber snorted. “Oh, c’mon. I’m sure there are worse things on YouTube involving you.”
I kept up the fight. “Amber. What’ll it take for that to never leave your phone? Just tell me, and it’s done.”
“No way.” Amber hopped off the rail, tucking the phone into one of her many pockets. “This clip is priceless.”
Maggie
The air was cool already and the gusty wind was making it colder. Twinkle was walking fast by me, almost past me. “Slow down,” I said, and I pulled on the reins.
Juan was hovering. “Do you need me to longe him for you, miss?”
“No, Juan, I’m fine,” I snapped. “Thank you,” I added after a little pause.
He still wouldn’t leave. “I’ll be here if you need me,” he said.
I sighed loudly. “I know. It’s your job. But can’t you, like, go clean my tack or something?”
“Your tack is currently on your pony, miss.”
I rolled my eyes. “Only my everyday tack. My show saddle is really dusty.”
Juan finally seemed to get the hint. “I’ll take care of that, then,” he said.
I led Twinkle into the arena and walked him around a minute. When I stopped him by the mounting thing he stomped at a fly that was buzzing around his leg. I laughed. “The one fly that’s out today and it’s bugging you, huh, Twinkle?”
I put my foot in the stirrup and hopped on. I squeezed Twinkle with my legs and he walked off. He was walking fast and I let him.
Soon I saw Erica by the gate and I steered Twinkle around so he walked over to her. “Hi, Erica!” I said.
“Hi Maggie.” She was looking at Twinkle, like always. “He looks energetic today. This is great riding weather. No bugs.”
“One fly,” I corrected her.
Erica looked at my saddle. “Juan cleaned your tack, didn’t he?”
I nodded.
“I thought you were going to start doing that,” Erica said. She had a memory like a steel trap. Clang.
“I was gonna, but Juan got to it before I could,” I explained. “He’s obsessed.”
Erica smiled like she was trying not to laugh. “Okay, well, continue your warm-up. Walk on a long rein, make sure you can keep him on the rail and then work in some serpentines.”
I turned Twinkle onto the rail. He walked around without trying to cut across the arena, so I started turning him off the rail.
“Bend him to the inside on your turns. Don’t just pull his head around, remember your outside aids. And try to keep him straight on the straight lines,” Erica called out.
I concentrated, trying to get it right. It was harder to get Twinkle straight off the rail. It felt like he was walking a wavy line. After a few loops he started to do better.
“Good, Maggie,” Erica’s voice cut in. “He’s staying a lot straighter now.”
We stayed walking for a while, but I forgot to be bored. It was hard to be bored because she always gave me stuff to think about. I always thought walking was a no-brainer, but not the way Erica wanted me to ride.
“That was a good warm-up, Maggie. Feel how relaxed and forward he is? He’s not anticipating the trot, he’s moving with energy in the walk. Take him up to a trot now.”
I squeezed Twinkle and he started trotting. I glanced down at his gold shoulders and saw I had the right diagonal. Twinkle’s head came up and he started getting fast.
“Slow your posting. Don’t pull back on the reins unless he’s not responding to your seat.”
I tried to do what she said. It wasn’t easy ‘cause my body wanted to follow what Twinkle was doing. But when I got control of me, Twinkle followed me instead.
“That’s your half halt, Maggie.”
I trotted past and looked over at Erica. “Half halts are hard to get right.”
“They’re not easy,” she agreed. “You naturally want to follow the rhythm the horse is setting, and when your horse gets quick, you get quick and then it’s just a vicious cycle of faster, faster, faster. If you practice that control of your seat, you’ll be a lot better off as a rider. You can’t really control a horse’s body if you can’t control yours.”
Twinkle trotted down the rail, and I pushed him to go faster, until he was doing that quick-stepping bumpy trot he did before. Then I did that thing with my posting, trying to get it right. I did that a few times before I told Twinkle to walk. I needed to get my breath back, almost like I’d been on the leash with no stirrups.
Erica came over. “Really good, Maggie.”
“Thanks,” I said. “Sorry I kind of did my own thing there. I hope you‘re not mad.”
She shook her head quickly. “No, what you did was exactly right. I’m really glad to see you taking some initiative, Maggie. I don’t want you to have to depend on someone to tell you what to do every second. My job is to help you see the ideal that you’re working toward, and give you the steps you need to take to get there. I wa
nt you to be independent enough to make decisions and progress on your own. I’m happy to see that.”
Erica looked like she seriously might cry. I wanted to say something about it, but I thought it might send her over the edge, so I didn’t.
Erica stepped back, looking me over. It seemed like she was making a decision. When she walked over to me, she had a gleam in her eye. Oh, crap! Not the leash… I thought.
“How would you like to canter off the longe?” Erica said.
Wait. What? “Really?” I squeaked.
“Yes. I’m really proud of your progress. I think you’re ready.”
With a big grin on my face, I asked Twinkle to trot and headed for the rail before she could maybe change her mind.
“Don’t rush it, Maggie. I’m not going to change my mind unless you do something really bad. Get a nice trot before you think about cantering. Make sure he’s listening to your seat and legs and keeping a good rhythm.”
I went around like five times, until Twinkle didn’t seem too fast or too slow. I think he’s ready. I looked over at Erica.
“That’s a good working trot. Now, to cue the canter, bring your outside leg back a few inches, sit down and move your seat the way it moves when the horse is cantering. That will help lift him into the canter. It can be a little tough to coordinate your aids at first, so relax and don’t hurry.”
I nodded and trotted into the corner, thinking about what the canter felt like, and how it made my seat move. When I thought I had it in my mind I shifted my leg back and made that rocking motion with my hips. Twinkle picked up his feet, and jumped into the canter easily. “Good boy!” I called to him. Twinkle was moving fast with his ears up. It seemed like he was having fun. I sure was. I sat there grinning, following the rolling motion of his canter around the whole arena before I slowed my seat down and he went back to a trot. It was a little bumpy at first but he smoothed out soon. I patted his neck and he dropped his head and snorted loudly several times. “Was that fun, Twinkle?” I laughed.
Training Harry Page 41