by C L Green
I learn that Ro is indeed a collector of fine cars and she has twelve classic cars tucked away in a shed at her house.
Teagan is a kindergarten teacher at the local child-care center. She also has two small children of her own aged two and five to Jax’s brother Luke. The children are spending the day with their father at Ryan’s house. Ryan is Jax’s other brother and he is Rebecca’s husband.
Ryan and Rebecca have been happily married for twenty years and they themselves had a rather large brood of five children. Their ages span from nineteen years of age down to their youngest who is ten. The ten-year-old son is some sort of child prodigy. Apparently he is already attending high school and expects to graduate at the age of fifteen.
Rebecca has been another stay-at-home mum all her life, similar to Ro. Her hobbies are not in any way similar to Ro’s. She spends many hours a week as a volunteer for the local Royal Society for the Prevention of Cruelty to Animals. As well as this, she spends many more days actively helping the local Country Fire Authority. These days may turn into weeks whenever she is required to help with disaster recovery events in the local area.
During the easy flow of conversation I also recount my long-term employment as a finance officer with a large wholesaling company based near my home. I also tell them about my beloved Golden girls.
Our banquet is finally done just over an hour after it starts. At this point, all three women swing into action to quickly clear away the plates and continue their quest to stock Jax’s fridge and cupboards with food to keep him alive and well for another fortnight.
Ignoring my offers for aid, all three women slip seamlessly into a process that sees the kitchen tidied and everything put away in what seems like a matter of minutes. They then move their focus to assigning cleaning tasks and vanish off to various corners of the house to finish the jobs they are obviously here to do.
Sipping on a glass of iced water to assist in washing down my massive lunch time meal, I turn my attention back to Jax. Jax has been sitting quietly next to me while we watch his family whirlwind through his house.
“You say this happens every fortnight?” I ask incredulously.
“Yeah, without fail. Rain or shine, they arrive like an army of worker ants and polish the place from top to bottom. Contrary to your conversation with my Ma earlier, I do actually make attempts to keep the place clean myself. These are apparently frowned upon as she has some sixth sense on the excessive dust mite populations inhabiting my bedrooms. There are also large colonies of bacteria in my bathrooms that will kill us all if not destroyed.”
“I see.” I nod as I grin at him. “And how long has this been going on?”
“Nearly three years,” he states without hesitation, fixing his eyes intently on mine.
Why only three years?
What about the other years between his fledging the nest and three years ago? I resist the urge to ask as I see a shadow of sadness flash across his eyes just beneath the surface.
“And the cooking?”
“Same.”
His eyes blank out and he deadpans. This time there is a definite flatness in his tone that leaves me feeling a surge of pain for him. Something happened three years ago. Something that saw these three women decide to step into Jax’s life to repair it once a fortnight, without fail apparently.
I watch him slowly turn away from me, a pained expression scrolling across his face again as he starts to push away from the table.
“Well back to it I guess. Do you need to have a little lay down to sleep off your food coma?” He asks grinning again.
“Although a little kitty nap does sound pleasant, I need to get off this chair and move my body to burn some of those carbs up. Let’s do this thing!”
I launch from my seat starting to feel unwell again at the thought of riding Maverick.
There is however, no way I am going to start talking about my problems or fears with Jax. Especially when I get the feeling that Jax, at this particular moment, has more problems than me.
Chapter Five
Heimlich Maneuver
On return to the day yards, Maverick is once again most pleased to see us. His cake of hay is gone and he has managed to knock over his water bucket again. It appears to be his new favorite sport. I empty it, you fill it.
The walk back to the yards has given Jax plenty of time to shake off whatever it is that had been bothering him and he is back at his hand grabbing, dragging me along thing again.
“You grab Maverick, rope halter on. I’ll grab some shit I need from the barn. You okay to put the rope halter on without me?”
“Sure.” I agree quickly. I don’t need him watching me struggle with the tie off again.
I give him what I hope is one of my winning smiles and set about doing as I have been asked while Jax saunters off to his barn again.
Maverick appears extra excited at the thought of having his halter on and possibly escaping the confines of his small yard. He meets me at the gate and then waits patiently while I make several tries to tie his halter on. I appear to have it on in the right spot, far enough up his face and tied firm enough for the knot to hold by the third try.
It is as I make the final adjustments that Jax returns carrying a medium length black fiberglass stick with a long black string attached to one end and a long thick white rope neatly rolled into a figure eight.
“Do I need to grab my bridle, saddle and hat?” I ask him.
“Not yet, got a few checks to run before we get to that.” He replies unlatching the yard gate and signaling for me to follow him. “Let’s head to the round yard and muck around with him a bit first.”
I lead Maverick through the now open gate and head after Jax. He moves along quickly, glancing back occasionally to look at me and Maverick with a thoughtful look on his face.
I don’t have much time to consider what he’s thinking about when he is looking back at us. This is because Maverick is totally distracted by all the other horses within his line of sight and as such, he is acting his normal special version of erratic.
As usual, he is full of beans. Full of beans means he starts zigging and zagging instead of walking direct next to me. Often he bumps into me and on the odd occasion, nearly stomps on my toe. Being used to this behavior, I am fleet of foot. Being fleet of foot means I effectively sidestep his bumble-footed stomping efforts with great success.
Proud of myself at having made it to his round yard with my feet still intact, I beam at Jax as he holds the large timber gate to his yard open for us.
Maverick does his usual gate entry maneuver of stopping dead about two meters away from it. He then gives me his ‘I’m not going there’ stance.
Having seen him do this many times before, I employ my highly effective signature maneuver of planting my feet and giving an almighty yank on the lead rope. He responds by continuing his journey and racing (nearly over the top of me) through the gate opening. Once inside, he spins around to face me from behind.
Again, I beam at Jax feeling like things are flowing as they should now that Maverick is safely inside the yard ready for action.
I see Jax shake his head and a look of disappointment crosses his face as he turns to close the gate.
“So was that demonstration of his zigzag, race around skills the norm for him Ash?”
“Um… Yes.”
I agree hesitantly, the smile fading from my face. I am now getting the feeling that my ability to navigate Maverick from his day yard to the round yard, without damage to my feet, is not as impressive as I first thought.
“That’s no good you realize that?” He states swinging his face to me and pinning me with a look I can’t make out.
“Um… He’s an Arab, it's normal isn’t it?” I ask, my voice fading off as nerves from his steady gaze start to chew at my stomach.
“No it's not. Yes, he’s an Arab, which does makes him smart and spirited Being an Arab does not make it normal that he should be flying all over the place. He should not
be dragging you and that body slamming is plain fucked. His obvious need to ‘save himself’ from whatever is going on around him is fucked too.
He’s scared Ash. The reason he’s scared is ‘cause you are not confident in your role as his leader. He also thinks that ‘cause you’re not confident, the end is near and he should do something about that. To him he’s going into survival mode and zigzagging like he would in the wild to make sure the lions don’t eat him. Sadly, he’s probably actually hoping the lions will eat you. He’s hoping this ‘cause you’re the stupid one walking in a straight line not doing anything to defend yourself.”
Holy shit where did that come from?
I’m not sure what to think about that tirade and it sounds a bit like bullshit to me.
“I’m a fucking useless leader. Got it,” I stilt, feeling personally attacked and quite a bit pissed off at the same time.
“Don’t get defensive Ash. I’m not attacking you personally. I’m just explaining what is going on. I bet some of the things I tell you today and over the coming weeks are going to sound left field to you. So far left field from what you have been taught in the past that you will think I’m a dickhead and an asshole.
One thing I can tell you. I won’t be bullshitting you. Just think about what I’m saying to you and give it real thought before you fling it all away. It will start to make sense. I promise.
I also promise the reason I am telling you this is because I want to keep you safe. You have no idea how badly I want to keep you safe. You have no idea the lengths I will go to, or the harsh things I will say to you to make sure you don’t get hurt. I’ve seen the fucked up shit that happens when a horse gets scared and panics trying to save itself. I never want to see that, ever again. One thing you need to understand Ash is that I won’t bullshit you, if you don’t bullshit me.”
I look over at Jax and see by the way he is standing and looking at me that he is being completely honest. He is trying in the only way he knows how, to get a message across to me. It is a message about safety but it’s a message about loss.
It’s starting to make me feel nervous, not only about Maverick and his behaviors, but also about Jax himself. It’s starting to appear to me that he has more than one agenda running in his efforts to help me re-train my horse and I am keen to find out what that is.
“Sorry.” I apologize and look at my feet, scuffing dirt with the toe of my boot and wondering what to say next.
“I’m sorry too.” He rumbles softly, his deep voice barely audible.
I can hear what almost sounds like an echo in his voice. I get the distinct feeling he isn’t just apologizing to me. He is apologizing to someone else as well. I see him look up and look around taking a huge breath and blowing out steadily.
“Onwards, and upwards, as my Ma would say!” He chirps and rallies his mood back together. “I’m now gunna show you a few little exercises you can do with Maverick as often as you like. These exercises are designed to prove to him that you are a strong leader. Being a strong leader is why you are allowed to walk calmly in straight lines without getting eaten by lions. Maverick will also learn to think that you are so cool that he can trust you. Trusting you means he doesn’t need to zigzag while he’s near you, okay?”
“Sure thing.” I reply trying to be as chirpy as he is to keep the mood alive. “Teach me oh great one and I shall learn.”
“That you will,” he replies as he carefully places the black stick and extra rope down at the edge of the yard. When he turns around again and strides toward me, he is once again looking all business.
“Okay Ash. First we need to cover some of the ground we covered before lunch. We need to do some more touchy feely stuff with Maverick. The reason being, we need to build confidence between both him and you. You mostly have it when you are both spending relaxing time together, which is good. We still need to work on him having that same confidence at all times around you.
We also need to teach him that you have personal space. He needs to learn that unless you invite him in it, he should stay the fuck out. That is an important one that you are going to need to be hard on him about Ash. No lovey-dovey girlie shit. No half assed efforts at keeping him out of your space are permitted.
If he enters uninvited, I want you to literally do what another horse would do to him in the paddock. I want you to bite his ass – hard! He needs to get a very clear message to fuck off or else he is going to see you as the local pansy that he can jump all over. Are you getting me?”
I am getting him alright. I am getting him enough to know there is one thing we need to make clear before we start.
“I don’t hit horses, or any animals for that matter.”
I announce this with a tone of definitive finality.
I see Jax’s face soften and small smile shimmer across his lips.
“Neither do I Ash. I’m not talking about you beating the crap out of your horse. I’m talking about some well positioned blocks with your arms or legs. I’m talking about an occasional necessary slap with a rope to give him a warning. It’s more about the timing than the physical brute strength of the blow. With horses, timing is everything. They need to be disciplined in the moment and not a second later. Slow timing is just as damaging as doing nothing at all.
Even more important is consistency.
Consistent responses are important in you demonstrating to him that you are a safe leader. A leader who can be trusted to provide a consistent response. If you can do that, he’ll decide you’re the boss and he will hand all his worries over to you to manage.
The other thing to think about when you do need to block him or give him a warning whack is, don’t be afraid to throw some effort into it. All you need do is stand for half an hour watching a group of horses at feed time. You will soon see that what they pay out on each other in the paddock with teeth and hooves is fifty times worse than anything we can do. Our little poke or prod as a lightweight, two-legged animal, barely registers on their punishment scale.”
“Um, okay.”
I have to agree that what he is saying makes sense. I can also understand the importance of timing as it is clearly a universal training method. In fact, it is one that I employ with my dogs all the time. There is never any point in punishing any of my dogs after the event. The only time they understand things like don’t chew up my herb bushes, is when I physically catch them in the act and scold them instantly.
I am sure I can do this.
My dogs are not untrained menaces to society so I suppose there is no reason for Maverick to be either. I can fully understand what Jax is saying. There is however, a small niggle in the back of my mind asking me what’s the point of all this. I thought I was here to ride my horse and yet I am still here standing in the middle of the round yard just talking about touching him and keeping him out of my space. Isn’t the whole point of this exercise to get in his space?
It’s time I got this off my chest because the delayed pain of waiting for Jax to tell me to get on my horse is eating me alive.
“Jax,” I pause to make sure he is finished talking and is listening to what I have to say. “When I am going to ride Maverick?”
Jax looks thoughtful for a moment but replies with a simple, “When, it's safe.”
“What do you mean by when it’s safe? I’ve got to be honest with you Jax. I’m shitting myself here. The last time I got on this horse I got hurt, really hurt. With this first in my mind, I’m not too sure I’ve got the balls to climb back on. I know I promised you I would, but I made that promise a long-time ago. When I made that promise all those weeks ago, it seemed like the promise was such a long way off into the future. I thought I would feel better about the whole thing when my body had healed. The sad fact of the matter is, I don’t. I’m scared, my body may be fixed but I’m sure my mind is not. All this talk about zigging and zagging and me being a bad leader is most definitely not improving my confidence on the whole matter either.”
There, it’s out there.
I feel like a huge weight is off my shoulders but I also feel like I am a sad sap. Jax is going to be upset with me for lying to him. For lying to him about my capacity to ride my own horse in front of him.
I take a deep breath and mentally prepare myself for his payout. I have earned everything he is about to give me, I know that.
He doesn’t give me long to stew on my own thoughts.
“Why am I repeating myself Ash?”
“Um… What?”
Repeating what?
He shakes his head and looks annoyed.
“I said when it’s safe. Have you been listening to me at all? All I want is to keep you safe. There is no way I’m gunna let you anywhere near the back of that horse until I am convinced it’ safe. So I’ll repeat. I’m not gunna ride him for you and I’m not gunna re-train him for you. You are.
For that to happen, there are a whole heap of things you need to understand about this horse. There are also a whole heap of signs he needs to give you before I will even consider letting you climb on. It might take an hour for me to decide he’s safe to ride, it might take a week. It might even take a year… Fuck… I have no idea how long it will it take. One thing I do know, when I finally decide it’s safe for you to get on Maverick, you’ll both be ready. I also know that if you are both ready, neither of you will get hurt. Are you fucking hearing me Ash?”
Holy crap!
I’m hearing you.
Once again it sounds like the answer to my prayers and I send another little thank you up to the Lord for delivering Jax to me. Although I am still nervous what safe might mean (will it really be safe), I feel the tension fall out of my body.
A soft warm rush of pure relief flows into my body and washes all the filthy, muddy stress away.
I can do this.
I look up to see Jax watching me intently. He is waiting for my answer but I am not sure what I can say to make him understand how relieved I am right now.
Instead I decide to show him.