Unexpected
Intentions and Consequences (Part 1)
Maura led Dream from the barn, handing the rope to the weathered woman by the horse trailer, in exchange for the lead of the Palomino. Maura then led the big, yellow gelding into the pasture, turning him loose while her friend showed Dream, the little bay gelding, up the ramp and settled him into his spot for the short trip home.
After Maura turned the new horse out into the pasture, where he peacefully took to grazing, she walked back to the rig and her friend. With a smile and a thank you, Maura sent her friend on her way with Dream in the trailer, and a new gelding in the pasture. She had always longed for a big palomino. And she didn’t want Murphy to get hurt while “training” that spooky Arabian. Murphy would be fine.
***
Anticipation greets me as I take my seat on the bus to go home. Finally! The wide grin overtakes my face, while I adjust the book bag on my lap. Ronni, my best friend, is sitting beside me, as always. She quickly bookmarked the page of the horse story she read, plopped the paperback book in her lap and turned to me with her own wide grin. She bubbled out “So tell me all about what you and Dream did this weekend! How’d it go?”
“Oh, Ronni! I wish you could be there every day! Dream is like a dream! Yesterday I actually rode him by myself and he was great! I can’t wait to ride him again today!” I tapped my feet on the floor, with the excitement I couldn’t contain.
Ronni looked at me with her wide eyes and giggled. “That sounds so fun, Murphy! What a good boy! You’re so lucky to have a horse of your own!”
“Yeah, too bad he’s not really mine yet. But I’m saving up, so soon!”
Finally, the bus came to a halt at the end of my driveway. It seemed the ride took forever today, but it was only the usual twenty minutes. I turned back and waved to Ronni before I hurried down the aisle, toward the open glass door.
I jumped off the steps of the school bus, hitting the ground at a dead run ahead of my two younger brothers, dropped my book bag outside the front door of the old farmhouse and ran down to the barnyard. I couldn’t wait to touch the little horse who would be waiting to see me at the gate. After enduring the full day of Middle School classes, I wanted to get home to continue the training of my young horse. He was coming along so well!
The horse had been purchased for a small fee from a poor-quality situation. At the advice of my Mom’s horse-trader friends, he was left to us to condition for a time to make him fit for resale. I was super excited to provide the wispy gelding with a loving home. He was of unknown breeding, and a non-extraordinary brown color, but I thought he was beautiful! With a good bath and a thorough grooming, his umber coat would shine. The first time I caught his big, dark eyes with mine, I knew he was special. We had a connection. I spent weeks just working to earn the trust of the fearful gelding. As we progressed, his potential, and the experience with him, consumed me. He wasn’t my first horse, but the first one I took on as a project and my first time to train a horse under saddle.
Upon reaching the paddock, my grin was replaced with a confused frown as my sweet boy was nowhere to be seen, but a huge Palomino met me at the gate. I gently pushed the big horse aside and frantically searched the entire pasture, afraid my Dream was hurt and in need of help. He was not anywhere.
On the verge of tears, I ran to find my mother to ask her where my boy was, and about the unfamiliar horse in the pasture.
The answer was unexpected and heartbreaking but delivered as tersely as ever.
“Mom?” I questioned apprehensively. “Where’s Dream, and where’d that new horse come from?”
“We traded back. That was the deal – we would put time into Dream, and then return him to the Foster’s when he was ready to be sold. They decided he was ready. Mrs. Foster was very impressed at the job you did with him. They gave us the palomino in exchange. I’ve always wanted a palomino. Now, I’ll have a horse of my own to ride.”
“Oh. Okay. I guess that’s right,” I said, agreeing hesitantly. I dropped my gaze and walked away, knowing she would not be empathetic of my wishes. It was just expected of me to accept it. I picked up my book bag from where it lay on the ground, went into the house and trudged up the wooden stairs to my room. I seethed internally, quietly. I tried to understand. I always tried. I knew my parents loved me.
I sat heavily on my bed and pulled out my sketchpad and pencils, Sketching always helped me calm down and think. This time, it hurt too much. This time, no matter how I focused my efforts, I couldn’t find the love for my mom. Dream needed me, as much as I needed him. How could my parents ignore that?
I began devising a plan. I would get my Dream back and my mother would never do this to me again. It had happened several times before – upon my return from school, I would come home to my house devoid of my pets, which was pretty disturbing, but it had never been a horse. After twelve years of wondering and believing all those hurtful actions were made in my best interest, I decided those choices should have been made with my input. Now my opinions needed to be taken seriously. It was time to take a stand. I knew what I needed to do. I put my sketch book and drawing pencils back in the drawer, emptied my backpack of school supplies and packed a change of clothes in it instead, along with the few dollars I had saved up from doing some extra chores. I went downstairs to join my family for dinner. While doing dishes afterward, I grabbed a few snacks to add to my pack.
In the evening, I sat with my family to watch a couple of mind-numbing sitcoms on the television as usual, then went up to my room. I read my book until I heard everyone else go to bed. When I was sure all were asleep, I opened the window from my bedroom to the roof over the outcropping of the basement and crawled through. I slid down to the edge, then dropped down lightly the eight feet to the ground. The dog greeted me with his happily wagging tail and a playful grin. He badly wanted to follow me, but I commanded , in a loud whisper, for him to stay. In resignation, he finally went to his spot on the porch to lay down, with a soft whimper of protest.
I looked at the house for a moment, and envisioned how upset my parents would be when they found me gone the next day.
In the dark, I set out to go get my Dream.
***
I started down the driveway and down the paved road toward my family’s horsey friend’s house. I knew they were involved in the “trade” and disappearance of my Dream. They would probably tell on me, but first they would give me information and I would be well on my way again, before my parents showed up, feigning their concern and dismay at my act of defiance. My strides grew longer, and I clenched my fists tighter as I marched on along the road in intensifying anger.
As the sun began to rise, I started up the driveway to our friend's house, but then passed quickly by the large structure and the hitched-up horse trailer, when the idea suddenly hit me to check the barn first, before making the Fosters aware of my presence.
Through the tackroom, I entered the dim space in the breaking dawn.
Peeking through the cracked open door into the stable, I whispered for my boy. “Dream? Are you here?”
A soft, familiar nicker answered me. It was Dream! I raced over to the stall where he waited and grabbed the rope from off the wall. He tossed his head up and down in restless excitement and searched my pockets for treats. With a grin, I hooked the rope to his halter and led him from the stall. His black hooves clopped on the cobblestone floor as he scooted forward.
“What are you doing here, girl?" I turned quickly to face the husky voice that startled me, my grin quickly drooping. Looking the guy straight in the eye, while grasping Dream’s lead, I replied. “I came to get my horse.”
READ PART 2
Excellent! I can't wait to read part 2.