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The Girl Who Loves Horses (Pegasus Equestrian Center Series)

Page 14

by Diana Vincent


  The vet stepped up to the gelding’s neck, palpating for a vein, a prepared syringe in one hand.

  “Will he...?” River didn’t know what he wanted to ask. He could not watch the needle going in.

  “He will just go to sleep…and there will be no more pain.”

  River looked deep into Magic’s large dark eye, searching for blame or forgiveness or some understanding. All he saw was trust. He felt so utterly helpless. He wanted to fight for Magic’s right to live but he didn’t know how. He could yell, kick, and scream, but eventually they would just drag him away. He had already begged and pleaded. What can I do…please, what can I do? “I’m so sorry,” he whispered hoarsely, a deep sense of shameful betrayal filling his soul.

  Magic emitted a low-sounding moan. His eyes remained open as suddenly his back legs buckled and he dropped onto his hip and then to his side. He made one last attempt to raise his head. Then the opened eyes glazed and he lay still.

  River dropped to his own knees staring into the vacant eye with his hands on the red neck. Ice coursed through his veins and he felt frozen.

  Dr. Patterson placed a hand on his shoulder. “Come, River, it’s over.”

  River shook his head and then fell onto Magic’s neck, his fingers intertwined into the beautiful red mane, and he breathed in deeply of his smell; so that he would not forget…never forget.

  The vet and Tess stood by helplessly watching the boy silently sob into the velvety coat of the dead horse. Not until the men drove up in the rendering truck and came over to place their chains, did River finally allow Dr. Patterson and Tess to lift him up by his arms. Wordlessly, he fled.

  Tess started to leave, then turned back on a sudden whim and taking a pocket knife from her purse, cut off a thick lock of mane.

  *****

  Ironically, the Pegasus team had scored the most points at the trial, enhancing Tess’s reputation as the best instructor in the area. Gloria finished in first place in junior novice and Katrina moved up into third. To Sierra’s amazement, she came in first in maiden beginner novice since Crystal had been eliminated and the previous second-place rider had a refusal cross country. With two firsts and a third, they were the winning junior team.

  But the day that Sierra should have been able to cherish as a dream come true was a day she could only remember as a tragedy.

  *****

  River was at the stable when Sierra arrived the next morning, already delivering hay down the first aisle.

  “Hi,” she greeted him timidly as she joined him at the cart.

  He did not respond or even look at her. He looked terrible; his clothes disheveled as if he had slept in them, bits of shavings in his hair, and his eyes puffy with deep shadows beneath.

  “You’re here early.”

  “I never left,” he answered, grimly.

  Sierra struggled for something to say as he walked away from her with an armload of hay. Her mind mulled over all sorts of the usual but so ineffective expressions. I’m sorry, I feel your pain, such a tragic loss. Nothing seemed right to actually speak out loud. She pulled two flakes of alfalfa from the bale and carried them to the next stall.

  When River hopped onto the cart and Sierra took the seat beside him she tried again, “River…”

  Not looking at her, River drove the cart forward. “I’m okay,” he said icily. “It’s only a horse, not the end of the world.”

  “No, not just a horse,” Sierra replied.

  River stopped the cart three stalls down and jumped out, effectively telling her in his non-verbal way, end of discussion. Sierra felt tears forming; even though she felt like she had cried herself dry last night in her mother’s arms. I loved that horse too. Maybe I would like to talk about him.

  They had reached the end of the aisle, and there was Magic’s empty stall; his name plaque still displayed on the door and his halter hanging on the hook. River tossed his armload of hay to Muffin in the stall next door. He started to turn back to the cart, but suddenly shifted and instead stepped over in front of the empty stall to peer into the vacant interior. “Just a horse.” His voice choked on the last word and he bolted toward the stable entrance and out of sight.

  Now the tears flowed freely down Sierra’s cheeks. Horses were nickering impatiently, oblivious to the tragedy in front of them, and only concerned with the delay in their breakfast. Sierra finished delivering the hay alone, through misty eyes, glad that Manuel had taught her how to drive the cart. The horses could wait a bit for their grain, and she went outside to find River, wiping her tear-streaked face.

  He was sitting under the tree where Storm rested, his arms around his dog and face buried in her fur. Sierra sat down on the other side of Storm who looked up at her with her beautiful canine eyes that seemed full of understanding.

  River let go of Storm and sat up, his expression frozen. They sat silently for several minutes. Storm thrust her nose at Sierra’s hand and she petted the silky fur on her neck and scratched behind her ears.

  “You stayed here all night?” Sierra asked to break the silence. Lame; why can’t I think of something comforting to say?

  “Yes.” Silence reigned for several more long minutes.

  “You want to know why I don’t compete?” River asked suddenly, fixing his gaze somewhere in the distance.

  “Yes,” she answered, surprised by the question.

  “Because I’d be good…really good. I know it.”

  “So..?”

  “I wouldn’t be just a stupid stable boy. People would look up to me. I could probably ride all kinds of rich people’s horses.”

  “And that would be bad..?”

  “I could be very successful and I would get used to that; and I would turn into someone like Tess. I would forget about what’s inside a horse and look at them only as dollar signs.”

  “What are you talking about?” Sierra felt baffled.

  “I think Tess used to like riding; maybe when she was a kid.”

  “You don’t think she likes riding now?”

  “Does she look happy when she’s riding?”

  “Well, it’s hard to tell…” But Sierra visualized River’s expression riding. There was no question he was happy on a horse’s back. She compared it to the look of grim determination when Tess rode, and had to admit that she didn’t look happy.

  “I think it’s what happens when people turn something they like into the way they make their living. I don’t want it to happen to me.”

  Sierra thought about that for a few minutes. She wanted to argue with him; she was sure it didn’t have to be that way but really didn’t know how to defend her opinion. “What are you going to do?” she asked.

  “I don’t know.”

  “River, please don’t run away again,” Sierra pleaded as it occurred to her he might consider it a solution.

  He shook his head. “No, running away is too much work. You spend all your time trying to get food and stay warm.” He glanced at her briefly. “When I ran away before my father didn’t find me. I let him find me because I got too hungry.”

  “Oh,” she responded ineffectually. “Well…good then.”

  They sat a while longer in silence. River picked up a stick and started making patterns in the dirt at his feet.

  “I miss Magic too.” Sierra let it slip out.

  “Yeah, I know.” He looked sideways at her and met her eyes for a few moments before looking back down at his feet. “It’s Tess’s fault. She pushed him too hard.” He started tossing pebbles at the patterns he had drawn. “Did you see what happened? He panicked, didn’t he?”

  “I think so,” Sierra replied. “He hit a slick spot.”

  “Some horses are mature enough to start competing at four. Magic was just too timid. Everything made him nervous. One year could have made a big difference in his confidence.”

  “River, you can’t blame Tess…”

  He interrupted with cold, hard anger in his voice. “I can and I do.”

  “If anyb
ody’s to blame, it’s Crystal.”

  He snorted derisively. “Crystal is a total idiot, but she’ll do what Tess tells her. And I do blame her too.” He added under his breath, “I hate them both.”

  Sierra heard pain as well as anger in his tone, and her heart ached for him.

  “I’m not going to run away again, but as soon as I turn sixteen I can legally quit school and then I’ll leave. I know people at the track and I can get a job as a groom or exercise boy. It won’t be any better than here but it will be away from Tess and my father.”

  “You can’t quit school!”

  He snorted a short laugh.

  “River, you can’t.” Sierra looked at him bewildered. When he didn’t say anything in response she asked, “Don’t you want anything more out of life than that? Don’t you want to go to college?” Then she felt foolish, sounding like an adult.

  “College,” he said in a distasteful tone. “I’m flunking out of high school so that’s a likely possibility.”

  “Flunking! Why?” Sierra didn’t know anyone who had ever failed a grade. Sure, some kids did better than others but everybody passed.

  “Because I’m stupid,” he answered and he said it in a way that she realized he meant it literally, not that he was making stupid decisions.

  “You are not stupid.”

  “You don’t know.”

  “I’ve met some stupid people before and you are not one of them,” she told him. “I do know.”

  An expression flickered over his face as if he wanted to believe her.

  “I’m going to be a veterinarian.” Sierra didn’t understand why she told him her dream just then. She certainly didn’t want him to think she was trying to sound better than him.

  “Good for you,” he said sarcastically.

  “You’d be a good vet.” Sierra knew it to be true. She had watched River helping Dr. Patterson when he came to examine a horse, give vaccinations, or float teeth. Dr. Patterson always complimented River and had actually told him he had a gift with the animals and should think about becoming a vet some day.

  “Sierra, just shut up.” With that unkind retort he jumped up and strode back to the stable.

  Sierra sighed and stroked Storm’s fur. The dog sat up rigidly, following River with her anxious eyes. If ever a dog could show concern, it was definitely in Storm’s attitude.

  “Storm, what are we going to do with him?”

  Storm licked Sierra’s face in answer and Sierra hugged her before getting up and returning to chores.

  *****

  19 Eighth Grade Ends

  In riding a horse, we borrow freedom. – Helen Thompson

  *****

  After Christmas break, Billy finally gave up chasing Sierra around. She guessed that with no more ballroom dancing he lost his excuse of having her as his partner. His absence freed up space around her so that she had a chance of making friends on her own.

  One day after biology class where they had been discussing all the possible careers that involved the study of biology, a classmate caught up to Sierra in the hallway.

  “You’re Sierra, right?”

  “Yes.”

  “Hi, I’m Allison. So you want to be a veterinarian. I want to be a doctor.” The girl chatted amicably about her ambition to follow in her parents’ footsteps, both physicians. Then at lunch the next day, she sat down at Sierra’s table, and from then on they ate together and then went to the library to work on homework, often helping each other.

  “You know, if we go to the same university, we could study together and be lab partners. Pre-med and pre-vet are almost all the same courses.”

  Sierra thought that was pretty advanced planning since they were both still only in eighth grade, but she laughed and agreed that was a great idea.

  Tall, willowy, with a combination of Caucasian, African, and Japanese heritage, Allison Ferguise was an exceptionally beautiful girl. She had inherited the best features of all three races; flawless creamy brown skin, lovely almond-shaped brown eyes, and curly, soft black hair. Sierra guessed someday those around her would recognize her unique beauty, but she was just a little too exotic in looks for most of the boys at Firwood Middle School with their narrow, Hollywood tastes. But what Sierra liked best about Allison was her intelligence and insights, and she loved the long in-depth discussions they had about everything in the world around them.

  Allison liked horses but not with the same passion as Sierra. “I’m afraid of horses,” she confessed. She loved anything to do with art and appreciated horses for their natural beauty. And being a good listener, she liked hearing Sierra talk about her own emotional experiences riding and working at the stable.

  Allison had a talent for analyzing everyone around her with astute insight, and Sierra loved to hear her explain the politics of their small middle school world. One time Sierra asked her about Crystal. “How come a girl who is so self-centered and rude even to her friends is the most popular girl at school? She’s pretty, but she’s not as beautiful as you are, or even as pretty as Katrina.”

  “Simple,” Allison explained. “She’s rich and has a rich attitude. She expects people to look up to her and envy her. Let’s face it, money is power. Crystal wears the most expensive clothes, owns the latest model phone and has all the latest gadgets. Her mother drives her to school in an expensive car and you know she’ll get a new car of her own as soon as she turns sixteen. Even the teachers give her more slack than other kids because her father has been financially supportive of the school’s sports’ programs. Kids hang around her hoping to cash in on her assets. They don’t realize that of course; they think they are truly friends.

  “But your family is well-off and you’re beautiful. How come you don’t hang out with all the popular kids?”

  “For one thing, I’m too different. But mostly because I don’t want to.”

  Sierra thought about that and accepted her statement as the truth. Allison didn’t hang around with the elite of the school but it wasn’t because she was a reject like Sierra. “Why do you think Crystal dislikes me so much?”

  “Now that’s a mystery I haven’t figured out. There’s something you have that she wants, but who knows what it is?”

  “It’s certainly not my job at her father’s stable.”

  “Yes, but she started noticing you after you started working there. What’s at the stable that you have and she doesn’t?”

  “Nothing,” Sierra answered. “I didn’t even know how to ride when I first showed up so it’s not like she could be jealous of my superior riding skills.”

  “Hmm,” Allison mused.

  “The only thing I can possibly imagine is that I work with River, and she can’t stand him.”

  “Ah yes, the stable boy,” Allison said pointedly. Sierra had talked a lot about River; how exceptionally well he rode, how he started teaching her to ride before he ran away, and even that she suspected his father abused him and was using him for child labor. Allison found River quite intriguing.

  “I think your River is definitely the key. Maybe she is jealous of your friendship with him.”

  “I doubt that, she hates him.”

  “Just remember that hate and love are often separated by a very thin line,” Allison said philosophically.

  “Whatever,” Sierra laughed.

  “Think about it. Who hated who first?”

  “I wonder.” An idea suddenly occurred to Sierra. “Maybe it’s River she’s jealous of.”

  *****

  Allison and Sierra had been friends since January. But since the weekend of the horse trial, a few other changes also occurred at school.

  The biggest change was Luke.

  Luke had always been friendly to Sierra, but now he actually sought her out. The Monday after the horse trial, he came up to her locker to congratulate her on her win and then walked with her to class. They had two consecutive classes together; history and then algebra, and a few times he also walked with her from one class to the o
ther. He didn’t seem at all self-conscious to be seen with a nerdy girl like Sierra. Once he sat down with Allison and Sierra at lunch for a few minutes, to ask a question about a homework assignment.

  “Why, I do believe you have a beau,” Allison said in a fake southern accent after Luke left their table.

  Sierra laughed, “He just wanted to ask a question about the homework and we happened to be sitting here.”

  “Right,” Allison answered and smiled knowingly as Sierra blushed.

  Sure, Luke has bright blue eyes that always seem to be smiling, and sandy blond hair in a brush cut that tempts me to stroke my hand over the top of his head, and yes, he’s incredibly cute. Sierra laughed to herself. Here I am thinking about a boy; a subject I used to think really boring. Luke is just a friend!

  Katrina also acted different towards Sierra. She didn’t go out of her way, but if she happened to pass Sierra in the hall, especially if she was not with Crystal or Gloria, she would smile and say ‘hi’.

  “That Fala sure is a sweet mare,” she even congratulated Sierra after the horse trial. “You two are a pretty good team, at least at beginner novice level.”

  But not everything had changed. Crystal and Gloria were as snobbish as ever and continued to plague Sierra with small cruelties; such as filling the inside of her locker handle with peanut butter, or dropping a half-sucked lifesaver on her open notebook when one of them walked by her desk, saying, “Oops, so sorry.” They never lost an opportunity to comment about her wardrobe such as, “Why, Sierra, what a lovely pink tee-shirt that looks so much like the blue one you wore yesterday. It goes so well with that pair of jeans that goes so well with the blue tee-shirt. Oh my, why it’s the same pair of jeans you wore yesterday!” Sierra never understood what was so incredibly funny about that, but they and their friends laughed hysterically.

  What Sierra found very interesting however, was that for days after Magic had been euthanized, Crystal mourned around school playing the tragedy of the loss of her ‘beloved horse’ to the utmost; bursting into tears, crying on someone’s shoulder, and receiving sympathetic attention from everyone, including the teachers.

 

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