The thing about death
Is you don't realize what you've lost
Until you're in the barn
And she's not there
To greet
You.
The tears didn't come until later. Much later. Because I kept thinking, "She's not really gone. Missing, yes. Taken, yes. Gone? No. She's nothing final. She's young, she's a quivering mass of possibility and speed, an arrow that's shot out of sight."
But then I entered the stable and she wasn't there, and for an instant, she became She, and I doubled over. But then my mind separated the two, and scolded my mistake, but I was not comforted.
Holiday Break stared at me from across the barn aisle, eyes mournful, ears at half-mast, disinterested. I slowly stood and stumbled my way over to his stall, not looking towards Shamrock's. The tall bay sighed onto my face, breath warm and smelling like comfort and hay. My hand automatically went to his neck, stroking it, over and over, soft. Well-groomed. "I miss her too." I sighed back. Grief struck at my heart like a flash of lightning, straight, scattered, and then gone. Only the memory of the pain remained. I had too many such memories.
"He's been off his feed."
I didn't turn around at the voice. I'd heard him coming. But then Jack propped his crutches next to me, received a sigh from both Holiday and I, and leaned against the stall door, on the other side of the Thoroughbred.
"Lilac told me," I said shortly.
At my tone, Jack peeked under Holiday's neck at me. Something in my expression must have warned him off, because he looked away. "It wasn't.... it happened so suddenly. Nothing could have been done, Anna."
"We didn't put you down." I didn't mean for the words to come out accusatory. But they did.
He'd broken his leg. Shattered. The doctors weren't sure if he would ride again.
"I wish they had."
Everything Jack had worked for, his whole life, was now at stake. He may be okay.... or he may wish that he was the one who'd died. I felt invariably guilty at my words, then.
"Sorry."
Holiday sighed again, then withdrew into his stall, head lowered, leaving nothing but space and sadness between Jack and I.
We looked at each other. What I saw was a mirror, a reflection of sadness and regret shimmering in his dark eyes. I swallowed. "What... what happened?"
There'd been videos. A news special wondering whether abuse at the track could be stopped. I'd unplugged the TV and consequently now knew less about it than the average American.
Jack shook his head. "A misstep? Maybe she broke from the gate wrong and banged her leg. There could have been a slight dip in the track... who knows."
"But... what happened?" I repeated. I didn't want to know why Shamrock wasn't here anymore. I wanted to know about her last moments.
"She... she was running. We were going to win, she'd never felt so powerful before. And then she gave this great shudder... I tried to pull her up, but she caught at the bit and tossed her head. It threw her off balance- she must have twisted her hock, and the fall broke her leg. But then she just... went down."
Jack's voice was as broken as the filly's body. I shut my eyes against the image, listening deeper than his words. The guilt. The anger at the wasted life. "It wasn't your fault."
"Damn well it was." Jack grabbed his crutches and hobbled off. I didn't watch him go, instead, I started in the opposite direction, to Bloodless Day's stall.
It was as empty as Shamrock's.
Hot tears were spilling down my face long before I recognized them, and then I realized he was probably in the pasture. Maybe I knew that before the tears came. But I cried for a different empty stall, a different empty bed.
Sniffling, I stumbled down the faint impression of a hill towards the pasture, and there he was, a fluid shadow glittering in the sun, grazing against the grass that tried to grow, pushing its way up from the ground.
"He's a seal bay," Lilac had told me, as though knowing his color helped.
It didn't, but when the stallion caught sight of me and lifted his head, ears pricked, I couldn't help but give him a cracked smile. And when he lifted into his large, floating trot towards me, my smile melted into something genuine. Love and sadness went so well together.
And love had truly changed this horse, from the cowering, fearful animal into.. this.
Bloodless Day lowered his head into my open arms and rested against my chest. We stayed like that for a while, breathing in each other's presence. Slowly, the sharpness of my grief faded into a dull, cold sadness, but love warmed me.
"Thank you." I whispered.
BD straightened then, gave me a long, pentrating look, and then wheeled around and loped easily off. He was relaxed, but a worried ear remained on me.
*****
"Anna! When. Is. The. Last. Time. You. Went. Riding?!"
Lilac apprehended me at Bloodless Day's stall as I deposited him into it after a lunging session. The stallion snorted at her nervously, but at a soft word from me settled.
"Um, last week? Two weeks ago?" I guessed reluctantly, turning to face her, one hand still on the halter hook. I wasn't ready to ride. My heart was shattered and all the shards rested at the bottom of my chest. If I moved too quickly, I'd cut myself and it'll hurt all over again. Riding was not an option.
Lilac, blonde and light in this tiny corner Bloodless Day had made for things of shadow and grief, seemed out of place. Impatience tore at her, begging for motion as she flipped a lead line back and forth in her hand, foot jigging against the bedded ground. Tap tap tap.
"That's way too long ago. Your muscles are going to kill you. And how's that crazy animal going to run if you don't ride?" She jutted a thumb at Bloodless Day, yanking it back when he snapped in her direction.
I lay a hand on his indignant neck from over the stable door. It was damp with hose water and tense with Lilac, but as my fingers scratched him lightly, he relaxed, though his eye remained warily on my friend.
"About that...." I said slowly. "I'm not sure if he should be ridden anymore. Or raced."
"What? He's doing so well! He's so fast!"
It tore at my heart to say it, but that slim chestnut face kept pressing against my mind, hazel eyes begging, pleading, but the rider was falling too, shrinking, smaller than Jack, blonder than Jack, a girl, not Lilac but not Her either, a cross between the two. "It's so dangerous. He could die. He could be hurt..."
Lilac regarded me curiously for a moment, and then recognition flashed across her face in a tightening of the mouth and the closing of her eyes. "Anna. You can't live in that moment forever."
"I can try," I said.
She shook her head. "It's unfair to BD. You may prevent him from dying, but you're also keeping him from doing what he lives for."
I opened my mouth in retort, but Lilac slipped the lead line onto the halter hook and left without a backwards glance. Bloodless Day whuffed and gently nudged my shoulder.
"Why do I think she's not talking about you?" I asked him softly.
*****
For the next week, Lilac went out of her way to tempt me back into the saddle. Holiday Break, who was slowly beginning to eat again but no longer playful and adoring. Skip, so generous and lightly responsive. Granite, growing bored in his stall. Even Mia, who's foal was growing quickly and was nearly taller than me already. But it was Bloodless Day who got me back on.
The day was gorgeous. Clouds rushed across the deep blue sky, young, shining Thoroughbreds racing their shadows in the pastures. A few colts, cheerful in a breeze, bucked their way around the track, and for once the jockeys didn't mind. My hair flirted with the wind, annoying and everywhere, until I tied it irately back, then resumed brushing Bloodless Day. He stood nicely enough in the crossties, neck arched as he stared across at the track, ears pricked. Dust flew as I curried him vigorously, working at a particular patch on his hip. "How'd you get so dirty, BD?"
Finally satisfied with my grooming job, I clipped the lunge line on and unhooked the crossties. Like a startled bird, BD shot across the shedrow. I yanked on his rope as he skittered away, leaping nimbly off the mat and onto the grass lining the backside of the row. Jubilant, he bucked once, twice, and I dropped the rope as it scraped through my palms.
At the slack, he became a horse transformed and turned into me, eyes bright and laughing. "You thought that was funny, did you?" I snapped, studying my hands. They were raw, burning, and my heart pounded in my chest, hurting with the shock. BD tilted his head as he studied my hands. Both of us were doctor searching for a diagnosis. And then he blew out a deep breath. It stung my palm.
"Ow!" My voice a little higher pitched than usual, tears pricking my eyes, I turned away from BD, still as a statue with the lunge line trailing behind him. "What's your problem anyways?"
He didn't even look ashamed as I stomped towards the jockeys lounge, where I knew a first aid kit to be, already cringing at the thought of washing my hands. Life was going to suck until they healed- though my left palm wasn't as bad as my right. I groaned. I was right handed.
Ned was browsing through a Smartpak magazine as I entered the lounge. He looked up, eyebrows furrowed in a thought that lived elsewhere. When he finally recognized me, his face cleared. "What's a-matter, Anna?"
I held up my hands.
Two minutes later, they'd been doused in enough alcohol to get an elephant drunk and wrapped in enough bandages to heal the elephant after it'd been driving. I cringed at the thought more than the pain, but Ned misread my expression. "How'd you manage this, Lass?"
I explained Bloodless Day's explosion. "What's with that? He's getting exercise- lunged, out to pasture... he shouldn't be so wired."
"I reckon he's just bored." Ned explained. At my dubious expression, he asked, "haven't you been riding that horse?
"No." I said, refusing to be guilty. There were enough things I was guilty about without adding this to the list. Bloodless Day was allowed to be bored all he wanted as long as he didn't pull stunts like these.
Ned sighed. "He needs more exercise than just lunging and going in the pasture. You should be riding him- trail rides, on the track. If he ever is going to be a Derby horse, he'll need the experience."
"Did Lilac put you up to this?" I asked, pulling my bandaged hand away from his attentive one.
Ned held my gaze. "I wasn't the one to seek you out."
He had a point.
I jumped down from the counter top I'd been sitting on, careful not to bump my hands. "I guess I'll go on a trail ride then."
When I opened the door, BD was already out there, waiting patiently. He'd followed me from the shedrow, lunge line tangled in his sinewy legs. I allowed myself a grin. "Let's tack up, bud."
Ten minutes later I was regretting ever having woken up that day.
Pleased with his evil plan to get me on his back, Bloodless Day bounced exuberantly along the trail. Weeks of constant exercise left him fit, round with muscle and hard, strong legs. He could go for years without tiring. I held him in best I could, but even with a thick pair of workers gloves, my hands throbbed and bit with pain. "Slow the.... heck... down," I said with gritted teeth, considering a word stronger than heck.
Despite the discomfort, though, I felt good. Bloodless Day kept me too preoccupied to dwell on Shamrock's death, but here in the saddle, I felt closer to her then ever. Here was where I fell off of her. Here was where she cane back. Here was....
BD leaped violently to the side, nearly unseating me. "Would you can it!" I hissed at him, working the reins to regain control. He ducked his head and pranced, pleased with himself. A low growl escaped my throat.
Startled, BD stopped and curved his neck to stare at me with a dark, worried eye. I laughed. "Come on, you. It's time to get back."
*****
Lilac was waiting when we arrived. She stood off to the side of the two horse trailer, watching as a brilliant chestnut mare was unloaded. I halted BD and watched, too, with a lump in my throat as Derek triumphantly emerged from the trailer as well, dangling the edge of the lead rope in his hand. The chestnut mare danced nervously, her coat flashing like copper pennies in the sun. BD nickered.
At the sound, Lilac flicked her eyes over to where we stood. "Oh no, you old rascal, this one's for Martyrdom." She then noticed the saddle, and who was sitting in it. "Anna!"
"Hey," I said meekly. Lilac shot me an amused grin but then returned her attention to the mare. "Who's this?"
"Jack in the Box, that mare Derek's been lusting after for ages."
"I do not lust." Derek's tone was derisive, but I noticed the soft way he held his hand out for the mare to sniff, which she did politely. "I just think she'd be a good match for Martyr, is all."
"He lusted." Lilac said in a stage-whisper. Derek wisely chose to ignore us as we laughed, but BD shifted uneasily beneath me.
"I better go put him away." I said reluctantly. Lilac saluted me as we trotted off, but my mind was a whirlwind of the day's events.
My hands hurt.
*****
NOOOOOOO
OCHO LOST
DORTMUND WON
WHAT IS THIS
I'm going to go meet a horse in a few hours. I'm not sure if I'm training him or just bringing him back into work or what....? But he's cute. So I'm excited.
How have you all been? Anyone else keeping an eye on the Derby hopefuls?
I'm trying to be more active on here. Not entirely sure how.
*shrugs*
Iggy out