Blaze of Glory

by M. Garzon

  “Téa, how are you, honey?” Karen came over immediately and draped her arm around my shoulders.

  “I’m... okay, I guess,” I mumbled. What could I say? That I wished a big hole would open up in the Earth and swallow me? “How are you feeling?”

  “Like crap, mostly. Dante’s recovering well, though, so I can’t complain.” I flinched at the mention of the other horse’s name. Not that I wasn’t pleased to hear he was improving. I noticed Teri and Julia hovering a few feet away, watching me with sorrowful expressions.

  “Hey,” I acknowledged them.

  They both came and hugged me then, and I had to grind my teeth and then bite my tongue to keep from crying. I tasted blood in my mouth and pulled away as soon as I could.

  “Nice day for a lesson,” I commented, drawing attention away from myself. And hopefully forestalling any questions.

  “Yes. How long until you can ride again?” Julia asked.

  “Another four weeks,” I responded morosely. Not that I felt any desire to ride, anyway. That was the strangest thing of all; I couldn’t remember a time in my life when riding wasn’t the most fervent desire of my heart. I considered it a basic need, right up there with eating, which I admittedly wasn’t doing much of, either. I made an effort to talk for a few minutes before I escaped to the school horse aisle.

  My friends there were all happy to see me. They greeted me with soft whickers, pressing their noses against the bars or reaching out over their half-doors. I went from stall to stall, petting a neck here and a nose there, and being nudged and rubbed against. Their touch didn’t bother me; on the contrary, it was a relief to be in their warm, sweet-smelling, completely accepting presence. After seeing all the school horses, though, I knew whose company I really wanted.

  I let myself into Zac’s stall as quietly as I could. He pricked his ears and ambled right over, leaving his hay, and as usual, he came to rest with his chin on my shoulder. I stood with my arms around him for a long time, until I began to get tired.

  Karen found me as I was exiting the stall.

  “I wanted to ask you, Téa,” she began in a low voice, “are you still okay with telling everyone that I was driving?”

  “Sure.” It made no difference to me, and as she had pointed out when she came to the hospital, it would save us both considerable trouble. I wouldn’t lose my learner’s permit — and my chance at a driver’s license — and she would be able to collect the insurance for her truck and trailer.

  “I just want to make sure it’s not stressing you out.”

  “No. I’m fine.”

  The concern in her brown eyes was already too familiar to me. “Call me if you ever want to talk about it.”

  I nodded, but I knew I never would. I’d heard all the platitudes, and I didn’t believe them. I’d had my heart broken before, I knew it wouldn’t heal. Scar tissue would just form around it, and make it a little harder.

  * * *

  Jaden showed up the next day. I was in the house, staring blankly at the computer screen, and he headed straight for me. I shrank back slightly as he got close. He stopped, but didn’t look offended, as some people did. He settled his long frame onto the arm of the couch a few feet away from me. He’d gone to Florida to play polo the day after Christmas and was tanned from his time there.

  “Hi.” His tone was light, but his eyes examined my face carefully. I looked away.

  “Hey.”

  There was a pause. When he went on, his voice was quiet, and rougher than usual.

  “Téa, I’m, so, so, sorry, honey.” I heard him take a breath; he went on slowly. “I had to have a horse put down once. She went down under me in the middle of a match, at a full gallop. She couldn’t be saved. The pain and guilt I felt over it were... excruciating. I’m not saying it’s the same as what you’re feeling. Blaze was special. I think everyone who saw him knew that, and the two of you had a tremendous bond. But I do have an inkling of what you’re dealing with. If there’s anything I can do, or there’s anything you want, no matter how minor — or major — just ask, okay?”

  I glanced at him; the pain on his face was real. I nodded. He nodded back before heading outside. He didn’t come near me, to my relief, but I’d been surprisingly touched by his words. It sounded like he understood, to a degree, about Blaze. But there was nothing he could do. My life was empty.

  School on Monday was hell. I attracted unwanted attention twice by sinking to my knees in the hallway and clutching my head. One of those times I was sent to the nurse’s office. I was happy to miss a class but then I feel asleep on the cot and woke up screaming, as usual, which caused the nurse to call Dec, who came to pick me up. He seemed almost at his wit’s end on the drive home. I was pretty sure he thought I was on the verge of some kind of breakdown, an eventuality that would petrify him. I resolved to keep it together a bit better.

  The weeks passed in a fog, getting marginally better as people moved on to fresh topics of gossip. I hardly spoke at school and my teachers had mostly stopped calling on me. I had always been a good student, so they probably wouldn’t worry until they saw my grades, which I suspected would be dropping precipitously. Not that I cared. I was teaching riding again, though without much enthusiasm. Seth had taken over some of my lower-level classes, and he continued to teach them to lessen my workload.

  It was mid-February. I hadn’t ridden in five weeks and was beginning to feel the first faint whispers of desire to get on a horse, which I thought was encouraging. Aunt Paloma and Jaden had just arrived for lunch, but before heading to the house I had to change the dressing on Splash’s leg — somehow he had managed to cut himself while he was turned out the day before.

  Marcus came around the corner. “Hey, I want to ride and there’s a horse in the arena,” he complained.

  “Oh, right. I’ll get him in a minute, just let me finish up here,” I said absently, applying ointment to the gash.

  “I don’t have much time,” he said impatiently.

  I sighed. Marcus always found something to complain about. I couldn’t very well leave Splash half-bandaged, though.

  “Feel free to bring him in yourself,” I hinted.

  “Oh, all right,” he said petulantly, turning on his heel.

  I was just smoothing down the bandage when a commotion made my head snap up. Through the open arena door, I saw Zac rear up while Marcus swore loudly and jerked on the lead shank. Searing heat flashed through me. I was already running before I registered the chain over Zac’s nose. My sensitive baby never needed that extra control, and Marcus had obviously hurt him.

  I launched myself at Marcus from three feet away; the impact from my body sent him down flat on his back. I had just gotten onto his chest and drawn back my fist when I was jerked upward by what felt like an iron bar around my middle. A lancing pain shot through my injured ribs. I struggled instinctively, and my arms were quickly pinned down by more iron.

  “Get Zac and get in the barn, now,” a low voice growled in my ear.

  I only hesitated for a second; Zac was a short distance away, tossing his head up and down in distress. I gave a curt nod and Jaden released me. I could hear Marcus starting to swear as his breath came back.

  “Whoa, baby, it’s okay. Let me see your poor nose,” I murmured to Zac as I unclipped the chain. There was a welt forming across the bony bridge of his nose, and I rubbed it as I led him into the barn. I heard Marcus’s heated voice and Jaden’s smooth one arguing as I passed, my eyes locked on Zac.

  Jaden came in as I was closing the door to Zac’s stall. He grabbed my shoulders; I thought he was going to shake me but he just spun me around to face him.

  “Téa, have you looked in a mirror lately?” He said it with painful restraint, but his eyes were scorching.

  “Um...” I was confused by his question and his unblinking glower was making it hard for me to think.

  “You — are — a — small — girl,” he bit off each word distinctly. “For you to attack a full-grown man like
that is insane.”

  “Did you see what he did to Zac?” I demanded. My power of speech returned in a rush as my temper began to flare again. Small flames were erupting inside my chest, but they felt good. It had been too long since I’d felt anything.

  “That’s irrelevant-”

  “Not to me!”

  “What if he had hit you back? What if I hadn’t been nearby? Did you pause for one second to consider what would happen after your daring rescue?” His intensity was oddly intimidating, considering that he didn’t raise his voice.

  I was saved from answering by Seth’s arrival.

  “Nice move, Sparky,” he grinned, shaking his head. For once I couldn’t blame him for using my hated nickname.

  I couldn’t think of a witty riposte, so I settled for, “Shut up.”

  “Seriously though, what are you going to tell Dec when we lose a boarder because he was assaulted by an elf?”

  I’d been trying not to think that far ahead, but now I was gripped by worry. It eased a bit when Jaden answered, “I don’t think that will be a problem. For one thing, I pointed out to Marcus that he could be held responsible for any injuries to Zac. And honestly, can you see him admitting publicly that Téa was able to take him out?”

  He and Seth both looked at me and howled with laughter.

  “If you’re quite done...” I turned away, miffed, but a hand caught my elbow.

  “Come on, little Defender of the Downtrodden,” Jaden said, snickering, “let’s go inside and plan your defense. We still have to tell Dec.”

  * * *

  The brief flare of emotion I’d felt while avenging Zac didn’t last. I drifted through the days in a haze, doing the absolute minimum I had to. About a week later I decided to try riding again. I was supposed to wait another week, but I felt okay. I would just have to be careful of my splinted finger. I tacked up Winter, Seth’s horse, and spent half an hour doing some leisurely riding in the arena. I popped him over a few small jumps at the end; my ribs hurt a bit, but the effort felt good all the same. It was the first thing that had felt good to me in a long time.

  So I started riding again, but I didn’t have a particular horse in training and I really missed it. I missed building that bond of trust, imparting knowledge and in turn learning from each horse, and enjoying the flowering of what was, every time, a unique relationship.

  Seth had taken our pooled money and bought us a car, an old Toyota that he claimed would run for a long time. I was happy not to be taking the school bus anymore. We got home almost an hour earlier this way, so it was still light out when we got home one afternoon and saw the trailer parked near the barn. We headed straight there.

  Dec was in front of a stall in the school horse aisle. Circling nervously inside it was a smallish palomino horse; he stopped only briefly to regard us suspiciously before continuing his inspection of his new home.

  “Who’s this?” Seth inquired.

  “He doesn’t have a name, as far as I know,” Dec said. “I got him from Rodney.”

  I grimaced. Rodney was the type of horse dealer that gave horse dealers a bad name. “What’s his story?” I asked, interested despite myself.

  “I don’t know much, but apparently he’s fairly well schooled and can jump a small course. He was outside when I saw him and he’s a nice mover. You’ve been saying we could use another school horse. I know he’ll probably have issues, but I’m sure you can sort them out. In any case, he was cheap.”

  That raised my suspicions even more, but he was very attractive, I had to admit. His body was almost the exact color of gold, and his mane and tail, though dirty, were a silvery white. He had a stripe on his finely chiseled face, and good conformation.

  “Is he a Quarter Horse?” I asked, noting the well-developed hindquarters.

  “Appendix registered, apparently. Half Thoroughbred too.”

  That was surprising, given his size — he wasn’t much over fifteen hands, I guessed.

  “By the way, we have some more changes coming,” Dec announced as we turned away from the stall. “Marcus is moving his horse out.”

  I stiffened. Dec knew about the arena incident, but Jaden had told him that we’d smoothed it over. I raised my eyes cautiously to find Dec watching me.

  “It’s okay, Téa, I’m not going to mourn his loss. We all know what a pain he was.”

  I relaxed.

  “And in any case, we already have someone new moving in — Jaden.” He smiled, obviously happy with his announcement. “He’s going to be a pro at the new polo club next summer.”

  “But doesn’t he play in other countries during the summer?” Seth voiced what I’d been wondering, too.

  “Normally, yes. And the level of play at the Killean club will be far beneath what he’s accustomed to, but he wants to stay closer to home this year.” The nearby polo club had opened only two years earlier, and I wasn’t familiar with it, as I didn’t know anyone who played polo. Well, besides Jaden.

  The next day I went to see the little palomino after school and discovered the reason for his cheap sale price. The minute I opened the stall door he lunged at me with ears pinned and teeth bared; I staggered backward as I slammed the door and heard his hooves crash against it.

  “Whoa,” I panted. That was the least friendly reception I’d ever gotten. No wonder he’d ended up at Rodney’s. Since he was on the smaller side he would have been sold as a kid’s horse, and no one wanted an aggressive horse for their child. This was going to take some work, but I was intrigued; it’s quite rare for a horse to be aggressive, and I’d never encountered one that would actually try to attack in his stall.

  I went and got a handful of grain and cautiously opened the door only wide enough for my hand to fit through. The little gelding had smelled the grain, but he still pinned his ears back and shook his head menacingly.

  “There’s no need for that,” I chided, carefully extending the grain toward him. “I’m just being friendly, see? You’ll like it here if you give it a chance.”

  He seemed interested in my voice, so I kept murmuring to him as he took a hesitant step forward and started eating the grain. I was careful to hold absolutely still while he ate, breathing a sigh of relief that he hadn’t tried to bite my hand.

  The pattern varied slightly over the next week. After two days I’d managed to get inside the stall and put a halter on him, and I left it on. We normally took them off in the stalls, for reasons of both comfort and safety, but it was safer for me to be able to catch him easily. I asked Dec to make sure no one else handled him, explaining that he was a bit tricky. It made a fair amount of extra work for me since I had to clean his stall after school. I didn’t want Alan, whose job it was to clean the stalls and feed, to be injured. By week’s end, the little palomino had made some progress and wasn’t trying to savage me every time he saw me. He would consent to eat some grain and let me lead him outside to stretch his legs in a paddock.

  I didn’t tell Dec the extent of his behavior problems. If Dec knew the horse was that aggressive he would have gotten rid of him right away, and I wanted the chance to work with him a bit first. A horse who threatens people stands a very good chance of winding up dead. Changing his behavior could save his life.

  Jaden’s horses arrived the first Saturday in March, and Seth and I went to help unload them. Seth came down the ramp first with a pretty, leggy chestnut mare, and headed inside.

  “You’d better stand back while I take Kermit out,” Jaden warned. “He doesn’t trailer well.”

  I moved away a safe distance, interested now. Jaden came down the ramp with an obviously stressed horse — he was wringing his tail and sweating, looking anxiously left and right as he backed down the ramp.

  “Wow, is he always like that?” I asked as Jaden led his horse into a stall. He left the blanket on, which was a good idea considering how wet Kermit was.

  “Unfortunately, yes. He’s an incredible horse, but polo ponies travel a lot, and it’s a nightmare going pl
aces with him. Usually, he’s tranquilized but this was such a short trip, I didn’t want to drug him.”

  I watched Kermit carefully. This was probably something I could help with, but I didn’t say anything; I’d almost used up my quota of talking for the day. Seth came over and checked out Kermit too.

  “Nice horse,” he complimented Jaden. “What would you call his color?”

  “Mouse dun,” I answered at the same time as Jaden said, “Grulla.”

  He smiled at me. “You’re right.”

  “You’re right too. I know it’s Spanish, but that’s what the Western people call it, also. I’ve never seen it on a full-sized horse, though, only on ponies. What’s his breeding?”

  “He’s Argentine-bred, a mix of Thoroughbred and local breeds; they make the best polo ponies in the world.” He looked at his horse with obvious pride. It actually made me smile, for a second.

  We left Jaden’s horses to settle in, and I went to collect Schweppes, the little palomino. Some of the barn rats — the lesson kids who hung around a lot — had named him after a ginger ale brand and it had stuck. Today he greeted me by swinging his hindquarters my way. As I was about to go in I felt a hand on my shoulder, ready to yank me back. I sighed as I turned to see Jaden.

  “It’s okay, he’s only bluffing.”

  “How do you know?” His eyes were on Schweppes, his hand still tense on my shoulder.

  “Look at him. Sure, his ears are back, but his tail is clamped down, not swishing, and his feet are quiet, not stamping. That’s a defensive posture, though he’s pretending to be aggressive. He’s psyching me out.”

  Jaden’s face relaxed. “Hey, you’re right.”

  I shrugged. “You might still get a show, though. I’m riding him for the first time today.”

  I tacked up carefully. Schweppes was touchy, swishing his tail and sidestepping on the crossties. He snapped at me twice when I got close to his head. Jaden insisted on standing nearby.

  “You know, Jaden, this is my job. I deal with difficult horses all the time. You don’t have to hover,” I said. I was a bit annoyed by his lack of faith in my abilities.