Blaze of Glory

by M. Garzon

  The week at school was tortuous. Not only was I behind in everything, but I just couldn’t find it in myself to care. I hated being there, hated having to talk to people and try to act normal. Maybe it was because my mind wandered in class, and lately, it had begun venturing into forbidden territory — Blaze. Right after the accident, the pain had been so sharp, so overwhelming, that it had been relatively easy to shy away from any thought of him. My mind seemed to instinctively know what kind of suffering would follow thoughts of my dead horse, and it protected itself accordingly. Now, though, stray memories began to infiltrate my consciousness when my defenses were down. It was agonizing.

  The only thing worse than school was Zac’s decline. As I had predicted, Anne wasn’t the right rider for him, and I watched with increasing dismay as he became a less confident jumper and eventually started refusing. It was absolutely infuriating, but she refused all offers of help from me. It was the one thing I still felt some strong emotion about, so maybe it wasn’t surprising that I made a foolish decision one night.

  It was Friday evening, and I was alone. Seth was at swimming practice; Dec had gone out somewhere and told us not to expect him back until midnight or so. I wondered idly if he had a girlfriend. I was doing the last check of the deserted barn around nine and stopped at Zac’s stall when he whickered to me.

  “I know, baby, I miss you too,” I told him, stepping into the stall. He rubbed his soft nose against my cheek. “What’s been going on with you lately, huh?” I asked him. “You’re not yourself out there. You don’t like Anne much, do you? Sorry, buddy. I’m so sorry you got sold to her.” I continued talking as I stroked his neck. The idea hit me with a sudden, blinding sense of rightness — I could ride Zac. Everyone was gone, no boarders would show up this late. I could actually jump some real, jumper-sized fences again.

  I was in the arena warming up within minutes. Zac seemed thrilled to have me on his back again. He was going as well as ever, and it wasn’t long before I was jumping a line that I’d set up along one wall. He bounded over so joyfully that before long I raised it, then raised it again. Each time, he jumped it beautifully, and each time, I felt a small shift within me. It was as though, as my body moved in tune with Zac’s, something that had been tightly bound was being slowly released. For the first time since the accident, I felt like opening my eyes.

  Six

  I patted Zac’s sweaty neck over and over as we cantered away from the last fence. With a shock, I realized I felt... happy. I slowed to a walk, trying not to think about why joy was now a stranger to my life. It wasn’t as hard as it should be, with my hand still on Zac’s warm shoulder.

  A furious word broke through my reverie.

  “Téa!”

  Oh, crap, crap, crap, I thought wildly. Dec wasn’t due back for hours — why was he suddenly in the middle of the arena, hands on his hips, looking murderous? I cudgeled my brain for an inspired excuse, anything that might mitigate what I was doing in some way, but it remained obstinately blank.

  “Come here,” Dec snarled.

  I dismounted and shuffled slowly toward him. I knew better than to stop out of range; I walked up close, close enough to be touched. As soon as he moved I closed my eyes. I expected a blow but all I felt was his hand grabbing the front of my jacket. I was about to peek when Jaden’s voice rang across the arena.

  “Dec.”

  My eyes flew open to see Jaden striding toward us. I’d never been happier to see him, but he didn’t meet my eyes at all; instead, he raised a brow and looked straight at Dec. It was hard to tell who looked more disapproving. Dec glanced at me.

  “Go cool off that horse. On foot,” he ordered curtly. I turned quickly to run up my stirrup irons, my heart thudding from my close escape.

  “What’s going on?” Jaden demanded.

  Zachary and I stumbled toward the track.

  “Take a look at that combination. She was jumping that when I came in. No helmet in sight,” Dec growled. Something that sounded suspiciously like a strangled oath escaped Jaden, and I was glad I had my back to him.

  “And that’s not all, that horse has a nasty stop in him,” Dec went on.

  I ground my teeth at the slur against Zac. Hadn’t I just proven the refusals weren’t his fault?

  “Also, his new owner has made it very clear that she doesn’t want Téa riding him. In fact, she hired another trainer.”

  “Has the other trainer been doing this with Zac?” Jaden’s voice sounded amused as he indicated the jumps.

  “Not even close.”

  I gazed at the jumps once more and felt a warm glow of pride. I’d been positive the problem wasn’t Zac. Whatever I had coming for this, it was worth it. I laid my cheek on Zac’s neck and hugged him as we walked, my arm under his neck. I heard the murmur of Dec and Jaden’s discussion as we circled the arena, but I didn’t look their way until Dec addressed me.

  “Make sure you get every mark off him.” He glared at me as he headed for the door. “And come into the house as soon as you’re done.”

  I gulped at the thought of what would await me there.

  To my surprise, I found Jaden waiting in the barn. “Thanks for before,” I said. “Nice timing.”

  “Anytime.” He smiled slightly, his eyes warm. “I thought I’d help you groom.”

  “I’m not really in a hurry to be done.” To put it mildly.

  “We’ll take our time, then.” He grabbed some brushes. I could hear him pat Zac’s neck and murmur to him as he worked. We groomed in silence for a few minutes, the soft swishing of our brushes added to the comforting background sounds of horses chewing hay and rustling in their stalls. Even though the barn was older now, it had been a high-end show barn in its day, and it was still beautiful.

  “I was wondering,” Jaden said casually, “I know another trainer’s been riding this horse. And from what I understand, you’ve got a low opinion of her skills.”

  I was surprised, and glad my face was hidden by Zac’s body. How did he know that?

  “So why are you doing this?” he continued. “Getting yourself in trouble, especially when she’ll get the credit for Zac’s improvement?”

  I sighed. “It’s not about her, it’s about Zac,” I said. “I wanted to make sure he was okay, that he hadn’t lost his confidence.”

  “And to prove to yourself that you’re better than the new trainer?” he guessed shrewdly.

  “Maybe that had something to do with it,” I allowed.

  Jaden came and stood in front of me; his face was grave as his eyes searched my face. I was struck again by how ridiculously handsome he was.

  “I can understand that. But jumping without a helmet — really, what were you thinking? And so soon after-”

  “You know,” I cut him off angrily, “in about ten minutes Dec will be giving me the same speech, only his will be delivered a lot louder and followed by a few good smacks to get his point across, so you can save your breath.” I scowled at him.

  He didn’t look at all perturbed by my outburst. A small smile played around the corners of his mouth. “Oh, I don’t think you’ll be punished too severely.”

  I snorted. “Then you don’t know Dec very well.”

  “Do you know what I saw in his eyes just now?”

  “Other than homicidal rage, you mean?”

  “I saw pride. Yes, he’s angry — and he has a right to be, frankly — but he’s proud of what you were able to do. And I think he’s relieved, too.” He didn’t expand on why Dec might feel relieved, and I was glad about that.

  We finished grooming, and I put Zac in his stall with a final hug. Riding him again had been great, but I was afraid I’d start missing him all over again now. Jaden walked me to the house, and I appreciated the company. I didn’t want to face Dec alone. I paused on the porch, nervous now.

  “Are you coming in?” I asked somewhat hopefully. I could hardly see his face in the dark, only the sharp angles of his cheekbone and jaw were visible.

&nbs
p; “Do you want me to?”

  “Yeah,” I admitted, ashamed to be such a chicken.

  I felt his hand on my shoulder; it was very warm. Comforting.

  “Can I give you some advice?”

  “Sure,” I said suspiciously.

  “Tell Dec the truth. Tell him how you’re feeling, why you wanted to ride Zac so badly.”

  My voice was very low as I answered, “I don’t think he’ll care.” I was surprised at how painful the thought was.

  “Humor me,” he said softly.

  I shrugged. It couldn’t hurt, I supposed.

  We found Dec in the kitchen, drinking coffee at the head of the table. I stopped at the other end and stood uncomfortably with my hands gripping the back of the chair. Jaden went and got himself a drink. He stayed by the counter but gave me an encouraging nod when I glanced his way.

  I looked at Dec; his expression was impassive. Better than mad, anyway. I examined the surface of the table while I spoke.

  “I’m sorry, Dec,” I began nervously. Might as well get the apology out of the way first, then maybe he’d hear me out. “I know I shouldn’t have done that.”

  “Why did you, then?” he demanded. I risked a glance at his face. He didn’t look angry as much as frustrated.

  “I... well, I really miss jumping, for one thing,” I told him hesitantly. My eyes were back on the table, my voice quiet. “And I also miss Zac, I was worried about him, he’s seemed so unhappy lately. I wanted to make sure he was okay.”

  I heard Dec clear his throat. I looked up to find him watching me thoughtfully.

  “Well, I’m assuming you know better than to pull a stunt like that again.”

  I nodded quickly.

  “You’re still grounded, though. Two weeks,” he said gruffly. “And Téa, if I ever catch you jumping without a helmet again...” He let the threat hang. I nodded again, relieved to be getting off so lightly.

  “Good night.” I was anxious to make my escape to bed. Jaden winked at me when I caught his eye, and to my surprise, I had to suppress a smile.

  * * *

  I used Schweppes in another lesson that weekend, and although he looked irritated from the beginning, he didn’t do anything drastic. Erin was a rather stiff rider and her aids weren’t that smoothly applied. I could understand why Schweppes would object, but as a school horse, he would have to get used to less-than-perfect riders.

  My students started jumping, queuing up their horses to go one at a time. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Schweppes shake his head in anger, grab the bit, and take off. He galloped across the arena straight for an oxer that remained from a previous lesson, it was too big for these students, but before I could react he had jumped it. Erin fell off as he landed and I ran over anxiously to check on her.

  “Are you all right?” I knelt next to her. She was crying.

  “Yes,” she sniffed. She got up and started brushing herself off.

  Seth and Jaden strolled in as I worriedly went to collect Schweppes.

  “Hey, T,” Seth called out. I turned, distracted, just as I grabbed Schweppes’ reins.

  “Ow!” I jumped and spun toward him; he had bitten me hard on the forearm. He stepped back quickly and flung up his head, frightened. He’d obviously been hit for this kind of behavior before. I shook my head, disgusted. This was one of the things Dec and I argued about — he thought nothing of hitting a horse that bit, even though it rarely changed their behavior. As I had repeatedly pointed out to him, it only made them head-shy. Erin decided to call it a day, so I finished teaching while sitting on Schweppes. It seemed safer than standing next to him.

  Jaden came and found me while I was untacking.

  “Why is Dec keeping that horse?” he asked, frowning.

  “Dec doesn’t exactly know,” I admitted. “Schweppes just needs a bit more time and kindness; he’ll come around.”

  “He’s a menace. I saw him bite you.”

  “It’s nothing,” I insisted.

  He grabbed my arm and pushed my sleeve up. The bite mark was already red and swollen, it was going to be a bad bruise.

  “That’s not nothing. And you can’t fix a bad temperament.”

  “Why are you assuming he’s innately bad?” I demanded angrily.

  “Why are you assuming he’s not?” I could tell he was getting angry too, but he kept his voice lower than mine.

  “Because I prefer to give others the benefit of the doubt, until such time as they prove to me they’re not capable of change,” I growled at him. His eyes narrowed. I lifted my chin and gave him a challenging look. “I’m asking you not to tell Dec about this horse. Let’s see if you’re capable of change, Jaden.”

  A spasm crossed his face. “I won’t make the same mistake twice,” he said in a flat, low voice, “but you’d better pray this horse doesn’t really hurt someone. Including you.”

  * * *

  Seth, Jaden and I went to clean tack after dinner. The barn was empty, since most people came during the day on weekends. It was cozy in the tackroom; we turned the radio on and took our time cleaning while we talked.

  “This brings back memories,” Jaden remarked. “I’ve spent many an evening in here.”

  “How come I only remember seeing you a few times, then? Dec claims you were always underfoot, but we barely saw you after we moved here,” Seth said.

  “I used to spend most of my summers here, Dec and Gran are the ones who taught me to ride. But you arrived shortly before I moved in with my dad. I was sixteen, so you two would have been what, ten?”

  “Eleven,” I recalled. Dec had been upset about Jaden moving; I remembered overhearing him talking to my mom.

  “So your parents were already divorced by then. How old were you when they split?” Seth asked.

  “Thirteen.”

  “Do you know what happened?” Seth continued, hanging up a bridle.

  “Yes. My mom left my dad because he hit me.”

  “And...” Seth looked confused.

  Jaden looked up. “A lot.”

  “Oh. Sorry, man,” Seth offered. He looked abashed.

  “No worries. It’s in the past.”

  “So your dad was following the Foster family tradition, then.” Seth grinned. I sighed. Seth couldn’t stay serious for more than a minute.

  “Family curse, more like,” Jaden countered. “You must have heard about Granddad — all the Foster men tend to strike first and question later.”

  “But you’re not like that,” I said suddenly. It was clear from his horses’ behavior that he never handled them roughly.

  There was a pause before Jaden looked at me. “It took time, and a lot of effort, for me not to be that way,” he said quietly.

  “So maybe it’s not too late for Seth,” I joked.

  We all laughed; Seth was the least violent person I knew. Far less so than me. The conversation turned to lighter matters — much of it seemed to involve cars — but I was still thinking about Jaden’s revelation. I had assumed he’d lived some sort of charmed, cosseted life. I was ashamed of how far off I’d been.

  * * *

  School wasn’t getting any better. You’d think that being grounded, I’d have more time to study, but I just couldn’t seem to concentrate for any length of time. So, as usual, I focused on horses instead.

  I started using the clicker to try to change Schweppes’ attitude, by rewarding him for greeting me in a friendly way rather than threatening me every time I opened his stall. It was the first time I’d attempted to change something as nebulous as attitude — usually I employed the clicker to teach specific behaviors. But it gave me an idea.

  I hadn’t had any luck in getting Kermit near the trailer, and it struck me, as I mulled over the problem, that I was going about it backward. In the end, all I wanted was for him to be calm in the trailer, so I set about rewarding him for calm behavior, not knowing if it would work at all.

  During our next session, I started off rewarding Kermit as soon as I led him
outside. I headed slowly toward the paddock, where the trailer was still ominously parked. Kermit noticed; his head came up, and his body tensed. I allowed him to stop and backed him up a few steps. As soon as he began to change his hyper-alert stance I pressed the clicker, and he actually looked at me in surprise. I felt a swell of pride — he understood what I was saying. I kept at it for another few minutes, reinforcing my point, and then put him back in his stall with lots of treats and encouragement. I had a good feeling about Kermit.

  Monday morning I was exhausted. I slumped down the stairs dragging my bag, and in the kitchen, I dropped heavily into a chair. Dec was away on business for two days so it was just Seth and me.

  “Did you make coffee?” I yawned.

  “No, and we don’t have time now, either. Here’s some toast, though.” He handed me a plate. “Hurry up, we’ve gotta go.”

  The thought of rushing off to another endless miserable day at school was suddenly too much for me.

  “You know what? You go ahead. I’m going to stay home today,” I said decisively.

  Seth looked at me, aghast. Dec had strong feelings about school — surprise, surprise. We weren’t allowed to miss any unless we were practically on our deathbeds. If he were here, I knew without a doubt that I’d be going. But he wasn’t here, and I couldn’t face another day.

  “Téa-”

  “Let’s not argue, Seth. You won’t win this one.”

  He looked at me carefully and sighed; he knew when I was serious.

  That night, we chatted about our days while doing chores in the tackroom. I was looking forward to getting to bed.

  “I’m not going tomorrow, either.” Missing school was the best idea I’d had in a long time.

  “What? Are you trying to get Dec to kill you?” He threw me a worried look as he transferred clean saddlepads into the dryer.

  “I don’t care, Seth.” It was true, I really didn’t.

  He blew his breath out noisily, frustrated. “You know, all this death wish stuff would go over better if you were goth.”

  “Who’s got a death wish?” Jaden’s voice startled me, I hadn’t heard him come in.

  “Hey, dude. Shrimpo here is ditching school. Hence the death talk, ’cause she’s toast when Dec finds out.”