Training Harry

by Meghan Namaste

  Finally I finished setting up my course. D.M., who’d been sleeping in the sun, awoke agreeably, and I climbed onto the fence, stepping into the stirrup and swinging my leg over his back. He warmed up nicely, needing only a couple taps with the crop to really get him awake. From there I began to work on my pre-jumping flatwork, concentrating on self carriage and responsiveness. I had been working on getting D.M. to be more and more self sufficient, with the hope that he would eventually develop the strength and athleticism for Grand Prix jumping, if I didn’t interfere by micromanaging him. To achieve this, I tried to leave him alone as much as possible by not using my aids unless he needed a correction. It was a seemingly endless cycle of allowing the mistake, correcting it and then leaving him alone again - never holding him in place. It took a lot of corrections, but I was beginning to sense improvement. He was certainly lighter to the aids, and gradually staying straight and forward for longer periods of time before he fell off track.

  Once I was satisfied with his balance and lightness I rode him through the course. I still had to stop myself from helping him and catching him when he lost his balance. I knew from feel that our time wasn’t competitive, but the rails stayed up even when I pushed for a little more speed. After riding the course a few times I patted D.M. and let him walk.

  I hadn’t shown this weekend, and I found that I didn’t miss it. Show season was winding down, and money was tight for me, especially now that I had moved out of my parent’s house. In my mind there was nothing wrong with staying home and working to improve our performance for next year. It would only be beneficial in the long run. Besides, I no longer cared so much about the show scene. I was enjoying myself too much just being home.

  D.M. raised his head as he walked along the rail. I looked and saw Lawrence canter up on Vegas. The gelding lifted his feet excitedly, bouncing almost in place. Lawrence shook his head at Vegas, stroking his sleek brown neck. Vegas sat back even more on his haunches, pirouetting around. Lawrence swung off without bothering to stop him, landing lightly on his feet, and Vegas halted quietly, his ears pointing straight up. He chewed his bit contentedly.

  “What a funny horse,” I said, smiling at Vegas. “I’ve never seen such an eager performer.”

  “He knows when I’m happy,” Lawrence said. “And when I want to show off.” His eyes were giving off that quiet, loving smolder that felt so good when it fell directly on me.

  I dismounted, leading D.M. out of the arena. We fell into line beside Lawrence and Vegas, and my eyes slowly adjusted to the abrupt transition from bright sunshine to the dimly lit barn. Soon the horses were standing in the aisle, Vegas in cross ties and D.M. ground tied nearby, his huge body blocking out what little sun seeped in through the open door.

  I bent down to unfasten D.M.’s open-front jumping boots. “Maggie really wants to come out again,” I said in Lawrence’s direction.

  He glanced over, swiftly rolling up Vegas’ polo wraps. “She does?”

  “Uh-huh. She won’t stop bugging me about it.” I rolled my eyes halfheartedly. “I was thinking of bringing her out here Tuesday. If it’s okay with you.”

  “Sure.” Lawrence looked faintly pleased. “I like the kid. She’s got spunk.”

  “That she does,” I agreed fondly. “Maybe I’ll let her ride D.M. It would be good for her to learn how to ride a big horse.”

  “Or we could always put her on Maude,” Lawrence suggested evilly. I laughed and then threw a brush at him.

  Lawrence

  When I went to get Eloise, she turned away. When I tacked her up she wouldn’t look at me. Her eyes were dead, no longer flickering with so much intelligence. Her mind was a lump of grey matter, just tissue filling up the hole in her head. She hadn’t used it in so long. Elle hated this. She hated the fence rails, the reins and the carefully dragged footing. She hated me.

  I had to do something. I couldn’t keep doing this. It was becoming the worst part of my day. It was textbook perfect rehab, and it was killing her mind. I had tried to make everything safe for her, obsessively protecting her all the time. But I just couldn’t do it anymore.

  I planned to take her out to the field, for a change of scenery. I knew every inch of the field by now, and I could ride her through the flattest, best places. I would keep her at a walk the whole time, and not overstress her leg.

  I picked up a mallet out of habit and swung on, ignoring her flattened ears, pushing her forward. As soon as we passed the arena gate, her stride lengthened and her head came up. She started looking around happily. I felt a spasm of anxiety inside me and harshly told myself to relax.

  Eloise stepped onto the field, moving out eagerly. It was the first time she’d ever been on it. I took some deep breaths and gave Elle her head, and she walked on, picking her way down a slight slope. She was walking fast, no longer dragging herself along as she did in the arena. I had to stop myself from constantly checking her with the reins.

  Suddenly Elle saw something. Her head flew up, neck rising from her shoulders like a skyscraper. She stopped moving and stood, quivering, nearly lifting off the ground.

  I looked around frantically. I couldn’t find what she saw. The air was still and I heard absolutely nothing. “What’s wrong, Elle?” I asked stupidly. “What’re you afraid of?”

  Then I saw it. Out in front of us, tiny and bright white against the dull green and brown blades of fall grass. I’d left it behind the other day, when I was out here on Harry.

  Elle wasn’t afraid. She was trembling with excitement. I felt like my stomach was frozen. Cold and heavy.

  Elle crept forward on tiptoe, fully alert and straining for a signal, any signal from me. She wanted it so much.

  I tried to stay calm. To think. Maybe I could do a little stick and balling on her. Slow and easy, like when I was first learning. That would be alright. Elle knew not to go without a signal, and I knew not to give her one. We would be fine. I would let her have this.

  I let her keep walking, toward the ball. But as we got closer I started to seize up. My hands clutched at the reins, allowing her nowhere to go. I crouched over the pommel of the saddle, completely terrified. This was too much, too fast. Everything was getting out of control. I had to have control.

  Elle’s mouth opened, her tongue crushed against her lower jaw. Her head shook against my hold, and I felt my arms tighten even more. She threatened to go up. I dropped my hands low and turned her around. She walked back to the barn, disappointed, angry and confused.

  I couldn’t give her what she wanted. I couldn’t tell her the reasons why.

  Erica

  “This singer is really good,” Maggie remarked from the passenger seat. She bobbed her head along to the music, throwing in a few hand flourishes.

  I smiled. “I’m glad you think so. She’s my favorite singer. Lawrence’s, too.” I couldn’t keep the stupid grin off my face.

  “Who is she, anyway?” Maggie wanted to know.

  “Her name is Ann Wilson,” I told her.

  Maggie shook her head in admiration. “She’s even better than Miley Cyrus.”

  I glanced at Maggie, cringing in slight pity. Poor kid, growing up on that over-processed Top 40 crap. I was glad to have introduced her to Ann. It felt like a public service.

  We were now within sight of Lawrence’s, and Maggie looked up eagerly, reaching for her seat belt release. I turned in the drive, coming to a stop. Maggie threw open her door and made the considerable leap down before I even had the truck in park.

  Lawrence ambled out of the house, and I watched Maggie’s reaction to him with both amusement and recognition. It was pretty cute, how she got all quiet and just kept nodding along to whatever he said. I saw Lawrence greet Maggie, and she stared up at him in powerless awe.

  I caught up with Maggie. “Hey. Let‘s go get my horse.” I caught Lawrence’s eye briefly, and a little spark passed through me, but I was in trainer mode and my head remained relatively clear.

  I glanced down at Maggie. She was co
mpletely oblivious to what I’d said. “Maggie. Are you listening?” I gave her a little shove from behind, and her head snapped back to face me.

  “What’d you hit me for?” Maggie snapped in irritation, her Lawrence reverie so rudely interrupted. “You can’t hit me. I’ll tell my mom.”

  “Yeah, and then you won’t get to learn your shoulder-in.” I shrugged theatrically.

  Maggie glared at me, and I turned to Lawrence, who was watching us and smiling behind his hand. “Did you get the barn done yet?”

  Lawrence shook his head. “I was too tired,” he said with a distinct glint in his eye. “You wore me out.”

  My jaw dropped a little and I shot him a definite look.

  “How does she wear you out?” Maggie asked impertinently.

  “She makes me run laps,” Lawrence said with full sincerity and just the trace of a smirk.

  Maggie looked him over carefully. “I don’t believe you.”

  I stepped quickly between them. “Okay. Maggie, you’re coming with me. I’m supposed to be teaching you a lesson, remember?” I steered her away. “And you -” I glanced back at Lawrence, who looked in no way remorseful. “Go clean the barn!”

  Maggie suddenly dug her heels into the turf. “Can I clean the barn?”

  I stared at her eager, hopeful little face. “Why would you want to do that?”

  “I never get to clean anything at home,” Maggie explained, almost sorrowfully. “I tried to clean Twinkle’s stall once, and my mom found me and freaked out! She kept saying how that’s Juan’s job, and I shouldn’t take his work away from him -”

  “Because then he won’t be able to buy tacos for his family?” Lawrence cut in.

  “Yes!” Maggie exclaimed. “How did you know?”

  Lawrence looked a bit pained for a second, but he recovered quickly. “Well, kid, you’re welcome to clean my barn anytime.”

  “Really?” Maggie looked at me in delight. “Can I right now? Please?”

  It took a moment for me to adjust, but there was no denying that face. “Well, this wasn’t in my plans for today, but I can see you really want to. And it is an important part of horsemanship, and one you’ve been lacking.” I paused. “So go ahead.”

  “Yay!” Maggie bounced a few times. “Thanks, Erica.”

  “No problem.” I smiled a little. “But you cannot tell your mother. She can never know.”

  Maggie nodded casually. “I’ll keep her in the dark,” she said as she started off for the barn.

  I stood there and watched her go. “I hope you’re happy,” I said to Lawrence.

  “Are you kidding? The kid is cleaning the barn, Erica,” Lawrence said obliviously. “I’m pretty much elevated here.”

  “You mean elated.” I flicked my eyes upward. “And I’m talking seriously. You need to be careful what you say around Maggie. The kid is corrupted enough without your dirty mind chiming in.”

  “If she’s already corrupted, then how much damage can I really do?” Lawrence threw back, clearly amused by my indignation.

  My eyes darkened. “Just humor me. Please. She’s a child. It’s the principle of the thing.”

  “Okay. If you insist.” Lawrence stepped closer, and I did the same until we touched at the hip. Maggie appeared in the barn doorway, doggedly pushing a nearly full wheelbarrow toward the manure pile. “Damn. The kid can shovel shit,” Lawrence said approvingly.

  I kept my eyes on Maggie. “You have to be careful what you ask of her, you know.”

  “What d’you mean?”

  “What I mean is, if you told Maggie to walk to the feed store and bring back a fifty of PerforMax, she would find a way to do it.” I looked at him meaningfully.

  Lawrence started to develop that gleam in his eye again. “No, I don’t mean do it!” I yelled softly. “I just know she really admires you. She’ll work all day if you let her. So you just have to look out for her. That’s all.”

  He nodded slowly. “Okay. I think I get it now.” He smoothed his hand over the back of my sweatshirt. “You really care about her, don’t you?”

  “Yeah, I do.” I was surprised at the strength behind those words. “She’s a good kid.” I shook myself a little. “You better go down there and check up on her.”

  “Why would I need to do that?”

  “Rich kid. Full-time groom. Never done a day of work in her life. Never handled a pitchfork in her life.” I gave him a loaded glance.

  He held his ground for just a second. “Yeah. I better go down there.”

  Lawrence

  I saddled Eloise, taking all the time I needed. She stood quietly, keeping her opinions to herself. So I slowly wrapped her legs, pulling the white cotton to the perfect tension, and tried to figure out what the hell I was going to do with her.

  I couldn’t take her back to the field where I worked Harry, where she could run into balls lying in the grass. It was clear to me now. I would never be able to get on her and just knock a ball around at the walk. I couldn’t give her a taste of polo. It was like offering an addict just a sip, or a hit.

  Elle was never going to be a polo pony again. Every time I looked at that lumpy cannon bone I knew there was no going back to what she had been. It was too dangerous. I would not risk her life, not with the heightened odds of another breakdown. But there was such a thing as quality of life.

  With that in mind, I tried one last thing. I held the reins on the buckle, and pointed her straight down the driveway. We left the edge of my property and Elle turned onto the side of the road. Her head swung back and forth as she saw everything, but she moved straight ahead. I settled into the swing of her back and listened to the clear rhythm of her walk as each hoof touched down on the gravel.

  This wasn’t new to us. Back at the LPC, when I had to get away from things I used to ride her out, over miles of pavement and overgrown, abandoned trails. There was nothing better for conditioning than long, slow distance work over varied terrain. And Elle was fearless. On the trail she was gutsy and determined in any situation. Elle was only afraid of one thing, and if I used fingertip pressure on the reins that memory stayed deep in her mind and never flared up.

  We moved down the road, and kept going with the sparse traffic shooting by, until we came across a wooded trail and I turned her onto it. Fallen leaves crunched under Elle’s hooves and went fluttering across the trail when the wind picked up. Reaching the top of a small hill, Elle halted, and we both looked out on a lush valley bordered by thick evergreens. The wind lifted Elle’s wispy mane, and she looked out at the valley, already planning the route to the next trail. And I reached down to pet her skinny neck, feeling her solid warmth under my hand, and, for the first time since her injury, a sense of peace.

  Maggie

  Twinkle’s head moved back and forth. His ears pointed straight up and he was looking at everything. His neck was wet and the gold hairs were dark colored but he wasn’t tired. He was walking fast, a lot faster than usual. My legs were tired from having to push him to stay straight, and my butt kinda hurt. I thought about getting off and leading him the rest of the way but it wasn’t very far now. “We‘re almost there, Twinkle,” I said. I looked up, excited. Twinkle looked up too.

  Then suddenly he stopped and wouldn’t go on. “Come on, Twinkle!” I kicked him in the sides. He snorted and shook his head and started backing up. He wouldn’t go forward. I looked around to see what his problem was. I noticed the chickens then. Just a bunch of dumb chickens down in the ditch.

  “Come on, Twinkle. It’s just some stupid chickens. Let’s go!” I kicked him again, and he started trying to turn around. I made him stop and stand. I was starting to get mad. Then I thought about what Erica would say.

  “It’s okay, Twinkle,” I said, patting him on the neck. “You can go past the chickens. They’re not that scary. You’re much bigger than them. You can do it!” I kept talking and petting him until his head came down and he took a breath. Then I asked him to walk. He stayed still for a moment then star
ted walking. He stared at the chickens the whole time but he kept going so I patted him a lot. Then I trotted him the rest of the way. He turned in the driveway and didn’t even spook at the parked cars or anything. He seemed happy to be off the road.

  “Good boy, Twinkle!” I let the reins get long and he put his head down. I rode past the house, looking around. A few of the horses nickered. Harry trotted right up to the fence and whinnied loudly. Twinkle didn’t seem excited to see them. He was used to living by himself. I got off him and gave him a hug. He followed close behind me when I went up to the front porch. I was gonna try and lead him up the steps but then the door opened.

  Lawrence

  I was up by the front window when I first heard the horses sound off. At the same time, I saw movement in the corner of my eye and turned to look head-on. When I saw what it was, I stood there a second.

  “Are you aware,” I said to Erica without moving my head, “that the kid is out in our front yard?”

  She was a bit slow to answer. “The kid? Maggie? Here?” Her voice got a bit squeakier on each question.

  “Yup, that’d be the kid. I don’t know any other kids.” Thank goodness.

  “How did she get here? Is she on foot?”

  “She’s on Twinkle.”

  Erica rushed over, peering through the pane of glass. “Oh my God. She is. What was she thinking, riding that pony all the way over here?”

  “It’s not that far,” I said rationally. “No more than ten miles.”

  Erica shot me a glare. “This is a show pony. I doubt he has ever seen the outside of a ring before.”

  “Well, she must have some skills, then.” I glanced through the window again and saw that Maggie had dismounted and was leading Twinkle up to the porch. “We should probably get out there before she tries to bring him in the house.”

  Erica bolted out the door, and I followed behind. Soon we stood on the porch looking down at Maggie and Twinkle. It was late morning, and Erica was still wearing my threadbare robe. I was somewhat more decent, in sweats and a tee, which was probably a good thing.