Training Harry

by Meghan Namaste

  We entered the barn as it rumbled with voices. Flipping on lights, we moved past the horses and into the feed room, finding cans, none of which were labeled. “I know who gets what,” Lawrence said, shrugging. I rolled my eyes and took Harry his grain when he handed me the right can. When I got back to the barn everyone was crunching. As they finished, we led them out and released them into their paddocks. The mares went straight to eating. Harry and Vegas ran their fence line hard.

  I watched them for a little while, then turned to Lawrence. “Do you want to do the barn?”

  He almost glared at me. “The barn can wait,” he said, steering me back into the house.

  We reconvened back in the bedroom, listening to some bacon sizzle on the stove. Occasionally Lawrence pulled himself away from me to go turn it over. I sat on the bed, looking out happily at the room’s brightening interior. “I have got to do this more often.”

  Lawrence kind of tilted his head. “Or you could just move in with me.”

  I swung my head to get a better look at him. He looked kind of amused at my disbelieving face. “Are you serious?” I asked.

  “Why not?” He looked at me without a hint of backpedaling. “You’re here so much already. If you didn’t have to leave all the time, it would be even better. You can keep your horse here. You can train out of my barn. I’ve got plenty of stalls.” Lawrence was talking almost matter-of-factly, but enthusiasm was slipping onto his face. “I think you should think about it.”

  I nodded excitedly. “Yeah. I will.” I already was.

  Lawrence

  Amber was stomping around as she talked to me on the phone, bitching about her shitty apartment and the price of food. I was listening just enough to hear when she stopped.

  “Amber,” I said, grabbing my opportunity. “I gotta ask you something. You haven’t told anyone about me and Erica, right?”

  “Who the fuck would I tell?” Amber blasted at me. “All my friends?”

  “Okay, okay.” I dangled the phone several inches away from my ear. “I just asked.”

  “Why the hell does it matter anyway?” Amber spat the loaded question. I knew she would.

  “Erica wants us to keep it to ourselves for now,” I said carefully. My voice was flat, maybe too flat. Maybe not flat enough.

  “Why?” Amber demanded. “That makes absolutely no sense. She should be flaunting you. She should be hanging on you in public places. She should be screaming from rooftops, for God’s sake.”

  “I don’t really think she’s the screaming from rooftops type.” I glanced out the front window. No one was here yet. “Erica likes to do her screaming in the comfort of my home.”

  “I really didn’t need to know that.” Amber huffed a little. “But seriously. I don’t like this.”

  “Wow, you don’t like something?” I said incredulously. “That never happens.”

  “I mean it, Lawrence,” Amber said. There was a warning in her voice. “I don’t like this. I don’t like how this is sounding. It’s not right.”

  “Okay, well, I’ve gotta go,” I said over her last few words.

  “Just be careful, Lawrence,” Amber said. I almost heard a pleading note in her voice. It brought me to a halt.

  I hesitated, I almost asked her something, and then I saw the green F-150 roll in. “I’ve gotta go, Amber. Erica’s here with the kid.”

  “She’s got a kid?!” Amber screeched.

  “It’s a lesson kid, Amber.” I rolled my eyes, then I hung up on her and set the phone down on the counter. Amber’s irate call vibrated in as I hurried out the door.

  The kid was standing in my yard, looking around the place. She had on little tall boots in the standard black leather, heavily polished. The rest of what she wore was bright pink. Even her helmet was pink, and the shine of glitter ricocheted off my eyeballs. “Hey,” I said. “You must be Maggie.”

  Maggie stared up at me. “Hi,” she said, wide-eyed.

  Erica looked back and forth between us, seemingly amused. “Maggie, this is Lawrence.”

  Maggie nodded rapidly.

  I glanced at Erica. Huh. She’s quieter than you made her out to be. “Do you want to see the horses?” I asked Maggie.

  She nodded.

  “Okay. Come with me.” I headed off for the paddocks. Maggie bounced right along with me, her little kid energy compensating for her shortness.

  Soiree was first in line. “Wow!” Maggie exclaimed. “She’s so pretty! She looks kinda like my pony, Twinkle. But big. Can I ride her?”

  “Soiree’s recovering from an injury,” I explained. “So she’s not ready to be ridden quite yet. But when she’s ready, you can.”

  “How did she get hurt?” Maggie asked as Soiree hung her head over the paddock fence, trying to reach Maggie’s outstretched hands.

  “She was a racehorse,” I answered. “They ran her too hard at the track.”

  “Did she win at all?” Maggie wanted to know.

  “Not really.”

  After a while Maggie moved on from Soiree, and scampered over to the gelding paddock. Harry came bounding up, all snorty and unsure. He paced the fence line, eyeing Maggie, flitting closer and closer. Finally he sniffed her hand, quickly lifting his head and looking down at her, staying out of reach.

  “Wow,” Maggie said. She was staring at Harry in slight awe.

  “Yup, Harry’s pretty cool,” I agreed. “Erica helped me train him,” I added, smiling over at her.

  Erica was looking around. “I don’t think I thought this through.”

  “How come?”

  “Well, Soiree’s not ready to bear weight, so she’s out. I can’t put Maggie on Harry.” Erica looked frightened at the very idea. “And she can’t ride Maude.”

  I froze. “So you know…”

  “That Maude is very…selective with her riders. Yes.”

  “Ah.” Thank you, Amber. I stewed for a moment.

  “Well,” I said after the moment had passed. “I guess it’ll have to be Vegas.”

  Erica’s eyes got big. “Are you sure?”

  “Yeah. Why not?” I unchained the paddock gate and went in. Vegas walked up to me, and I took him by the halter. “Maggie,” I said, bringing him out, “this is Vegas.”

  Maggie reached up to pet him. “Hi, Vegas.”

  “I’ll get him saddled for you,” I said, taking a step toward the barn.

  Maggie cut me off. “I’ll take him,” she said, stretching to grip the halter. “I can saddle my own horse.”

  “Okay.” I let go of Vegas, and Maggie set off for the barn. Vegas followed her, lowering his head to accommodate her small size. I snorted quietly. I like this kid already.

  In the barn, I showed Maggie Vegas’ stuff, and she tacked him up quite handily except for placing the saddle on his back and putting on his leg wraps (I assisted). Then we went out to the arena.

  Maggie halted Vegas, and Erica adjusted the stirrups. “When you ride a new horse, you need to start slow and get to know him,” she stated. “Every horse is different, and they respond better or worse to the cues you give them. They may have more or less training than what you’re used to. They can have bad habits or other issues. So it’s important to pay attention and adjust your riding to the horse’s preferences. The techniques you use on Twinkle won’t necessarily work on this or any other horse.” She paused. “Lawrence can tell you more about how to ride Vegas. Listen to him.” She backed off.

  I walked up to Maggie. “Vegas is a high goal polo pony,” I said to her. “He’s quick, very athletic, and highly trained. He’s extremely kind, but speed and responsiveness are the most important thing in a polo pony. That’s been trained into him. You can ride him, Maggie, but what you have to do is imagine the lightest possible aid you could give a horse. Can you do that?”

  She nodded eagerly.

  “When you ride Vegas, touch him even lighter than that,” I said. “And you might not get run away with.”

  Maggie’s face lit up. She looked
positively thrilled at the prospect I’d presented. “Can I get on now?”

  Smiling to myself, I gave Maggie a leg up. She carefully found her stirrups and slid her hands up the reins. I stepped back, leaving her to it.

  Maggie’s leg brushed Vegas, and he lifted straight into a canter. A nice, collected canter, at least, not a mad gallop. I saw the shocked, euphoric grin on Maggie’s little face and turned to stand with Erica. We watched Maggie play with Vegas’ gears, occasionally getting a piaffe or some fancy lateral movement.

  “Well, the kid can ride,” I said to Erica. Her seat and hands were quiet and respectful.

  Erica kept her eyes on Maggie. “I’m concerned that she’s getting a warped sense of how horses are.”

  “She’ll be fine. When she can stick well enough I’ll pick up something really rank for her to ride.”

  Erica shot me a halfhearted glare and leaned into me. Maggie was putting Vegas through some disorganized tempi changes. The gelding’s ears were roving back and forth. Vegas was concentrating hard on her instructions. Maggie had Vegas’ respect, his trust. His full attention. That was the thing about riding. It didn’t matter what people thought of you. It didn’t matter if you could influence and win people. The horse’s opinion was what counted. Horses didn’t lie. They didn’t feed you bullshit. If you could get a horse working for you, happily, without abuse and manipulation, then you could pretty much know you were okay.

  Vegas boinged past me in an animated passage. “Maggie,” I called out. “See if you can get him to just walk.”

  Maggie sat a little deeper and Vegas came down, striding out quietly. I strongly suspected she could have done that all along.

  Erica

  I sat up in Lawrence’s bed, glancing down at the twisted chaos of sheets and clothing. Somewhere in there, a cell phone was vibrating. I searched around, closing a hand on it. The phone was mine. The caller was my mother. I dropped it back into the mess of clothes.

  I looked over at Lawrence. He was lying back and looking at me, his intense eyes almost lazy. “God, you are so hot.”

  I smiled. The way he looked at me said it for him, but I liked hearing it anyway. That was why I didn’t crawl back and fall into his hard chest, inviting though it was. I was finding that I liked to just stay back, some of the time, and let him see me.

  I was changing. I was bolder now, doing things I’d never thought of, new things all the time. Lawrence was teaching me. He knew things I didn’t, and I wanted to know everything. I had never been this unlimited. It was exhilarating. I didn’t feel my restrictions so strongly anymore, holding me back. I was letting them go.

  Sometimes I couldn’t believe how good I felt. My mother had been systematically chipping away at my self esteem for years, and I only realized how reduced I had been now that I was with someone who adored me, someone who was newly amazed by my body every time he saw it.

  My eyes closed, and when I opened them Lawrence rose partway. I watched the sheet slide down his body, transfixed. I wanted a replay of that. I wanted that to play all the time, like on my cell phone wallpaper. Wait a minute…

  “Stay right there,” I directed Lawrence, diving for my phone. It buzzed with another maternal check-in. I hit ignore and activated my camera phone. Moving forward so he filled the frame, I held still, pressing the button. It made that little picture-taking sound effect and showed me the image. I quickly saved it. “For the road,” I said giddily.

  Lawrence smiled, and I felt my heart constrict. I moved closer to him. I’d had enough of not being able to feel him next to me. We stayed still, feeling the intermingled heat of our bodies.

  After a while Lawrence stirred. “Can I talk to you about something?” He asked softly, not quite looking at me.

  I inclined my head to face him. “Of course.”

  He hesitated. His hands were folded. “This secret thing is sexy and all, but…” his head twitched slightly, almost like he meant to shake something off. His mouth closed and I saw him working to start again.

  He finally broke through whatever was holding him back. “I just…I want to be able to kiss you whenever I want. I want to be able to go out with you and not care who’s watching.” Lawrence looked at me, and his face was colored more than it had been. “I just want us to be together. No restrictions.”

  I kissed him gently as he hung his head slightly. “I want that too.”

  “Then why can’t we?”

  I moved behind him, smoothing my hands over his arms. They felt tight under my touch. I rested my chin on his shoulder, my body molding to his hardness. I felt him sigh.

  “I just need a little more time,” I said gently. “Just a little more time.”

  Lawrence

  Eloise stood squarely on the concrete, visibly still. Her eye was all that moved, and it shifted eloquently in the socket, tracking my every step. I made the turn into the tack room slowly, held down as if by mud. I tried not to think too much as I picked up her saddle, as it weighed down my arm. This was just another step in the rehab process. Adding my weight.

  I hung Elle’s bridle over my shoulder and without letting myself wait any longer I went out into the aisle. Elle’s head twisted to the side. She started to dance around, almost tugging at the cross ties. Her whole body was moving, her ears strained forward. She held herself still as I approached with the saddle, but she still twitched with eagerness. It pierced my heart.

  I lifted the saddle onto her back, feeling an unnatural strain in my arms. Methodically I tightened the girth and wrapped her legs, finally unclipping the cross ties and letting them swing into the wall. I dropped Elle’s halter to the floor and brought the bridle up to her face. She lunged for the bit, snapping it up almost aggressively. I took a long time getting the bridle fastened everywhere, and Eloise stared at me. I knew she was stopping herself from yanking me off my feet. I shoved the last piece of leather into place and left the barn. Elle’s steps came down fast beside me. She looked ahead. She looked the same as always.

  She pulled left as we went through the yard, away from the arena I was taking her to. Elle wanted a field. She wanted solid green, unchanging, with only a white blur streaking across it. I brought her to the arena and shut the gate behind her. Elle looked out at the dingy footing. She walked, flat footed, until I told her to stop.

  Elle was standing. I pulled down the stirrups and tugged the girth up another hole. I gathered my reins and prepared to mount. Then I stayed on the ground. I looked at Eloise. I looked at all her tack and her strengthened muscles and her solid legs. I kept looking, and I wasn’t moving. I can’t.

  I had swung onto this horse so many times. I knew the exact distance to cover, the precise amount of power I needed to push off the ground. I knew how to mount a horse. I just couldn’t. My muscles, my mind, everything was paralyzed, and I could not get past it. I could not get past remembering the last time I mounted Elle. I ran her boldly into a breakdown, and no one could tell me I was not responsible. They tried. But I had been on her back that day. I directed her every movement. I used her to advance myself in that match, and then she broke. I was responsible. I didn’t take a crowbar to her limb, but that didn’t make me innocent. I nearly destroyed her anyway.

  I struggled. I needed to get on. Elle’s bones and tendons needed to harden. She needed to carry weight, for just a few minutes, now and in the days ahead. If she was ever to have any kind of purpose again, she needed to do that. Eloise could be ridden again. She could do something. All the vets I consulted agreed. I had to start now. I just had to start.

  Minutes passed. Eloise looked back at me. She reached back and touched the saddle with her nose, trying to show me where to go. She stayed still, giving me all the time I needed, even though she clearly thought I was crazy.

  It took a long time, but I raised my foot to the stirrup and propelled myself into the saddle. Elle didn’t crumble beneath me. She stood strong. We circuited the arena, contained, but Elle’s eyes looked far beyond the carefully groomed fo
oting, the three board fence. She carried me surely. I felt no uncertainty in her, no weakness in her body. Elle moved forward, focusing on the task I had given her. This job was small and boring, but it was a job, and Eloise completed it with the dedication, the hunger that made her what she was. It was still there. She hadn’t dimmed.

  Erica

  Something weird was going on. I felt it when I walked down the street, on my way to places. I was being noticed. All of a sudden I was noticeable.

  I was well used to obscurity. I was not the type to turn heads. No one ever flirted with me, which was probably why I was hopeless at flirting. But now it was different.

  The first few times it happened, I looked down at my chest, to make sure my boobs hadn’t somehow gotten free. For a while I remained firmly in denial about it. The guy was just looking through me. He was really looking at someone else. Or maybe he thought I was a buddy of his. My thoughts ran in that direction without fail.

  The change kept happening, popping up everywhere. The glances, the flirty smiles and conversations multiplied, and I became okay with them. Then I warmed to them somewhat. Now I headed out eagerly, in anticipation of a brief encounter, a buzz, a minute repair to my self esteem. I had stopped feeling bad about it, because I had spent so much of my life feeling bad for the opposite reason. I rationalized that I owed myself this guiltless payback. Anyway, I was so over feeling bad.

  I was heading to a little café to meet Jennifer. I saw her little Cadillac parked near the establishment. Jennifer’s parents had bought it for her, in addition to the truck she used to haul her mare to events. It seemed excessive, but I had to admit I did get weary of driving a truck all the time. And I had always wanted a Mercedes. Only my best friends knew this rather frivolous secret.

  I was so deep in my head, thinking about dream cars, that I drifted toward the curb and the guy who was walking on that part of the sidewalk. I managed to not run into him by a very small margin. “Oh my God, I’m sorry,” I said in slight horror.