A Challenge (MIGHT BE LEAVING WATTPAD SOON)

Chapter 8

   "You did good with Challenger today."  

   Mom's voice stirred me out of my reverie.  "Oh, thanks."  

   Mom's hands rubbed the steering wheel.  Then she cleared her throat.  I sat up a little, realizing she was about to say something she was nervous about.  

     "Have you thought about another horse?"  

    Another horse.  Another horse besides Jigsaw.  The words caused my insides to twist like a horse with colic.  

    "No...  I don't know if I want to right now."  

    She nodded.  "I understand.  Take your time.  You know you have your pick of the stable," she said as she flipped on the blinker to make a turn. 

    "Yeah."  I knew I did.  I also knew that none of them were Jigsaw.  My throat was aching as I turned to stare back out the window.  

    We would have been starting back in on his work right now.  I might've taken him to cross country today.  I closed my eyes and wondered why he had to die.

  I was writing an essay for school on my laptop when the phone rang.  By the phone, I mean the landline.  I got up and went on the hunt for it.  

  Unfortunately it wasn't in its usual spot.  I frantically hunted for it before finding it on the kitchen counter and picking it up on the last ring.  "Yes?" I gasped out a bit breathlessly.  

  "Hey Tess!"  The energetic voice fairly bubbled over the line.  It was Lacy, my one and only friend.  She was the daughter of Alice, who's barn we'd gone cross country schooling at.   "I was wondering if you were going to pick up there for a second."  

   I snorted.  "I had trouble finding the phone, I think dad left it on the counter.  What's going on?"  

  "Oh nothing, except I hear you were riding a new gray horse.  Alice said that he's yours, now spill," demanded Lacy.  

   "Whoa there," I said, sitting down at my desk.  "Alice told you he's mine?  Well he's not.  I mean, we bought him, but not for me.  We're hoping to make him into upper level lesson horse.  I thought I told Alice that."  I added quietly, "It's a bit soon for another horse Lacy."  

"Yeah, sorry, I just got a bit too excited there," she replied, somewhat subdued.  Then her voice brightened.  "But your family did buy him, so come on, tell me about him!"

   For the next five minutes I laid out all I knew about Challenger.  I told her about his pride at facing scary objects, his spookiness in general, and how he always rolled after a ride.  I groaned as I said that I hoped he didn't lighten up to soon, he'd be a nightmare to clean.  

   After that she asked me about the other horses I was working with and I told her about them, with her interrupting to ask questions.  Lacy was very bubbly but also a good listener, and there was nothing she liked to listen more about than horses.  

As I finished up my long winded rhetoric about the horses I was training, Lacy made a comment that surprised me.  "You talk about him different than the other horses."  

"What? Who?" I was thrown off.  

"Challenger.  You talk about him differently than you do the others."  

"I do?"  

"Yeah you do!  Your voice grows softer."  She paused, then dropped the bomb.  "You talk about him like you used to talk about Jigsaw."