A Shake For Three [One-shot]

A Shake For Three

30 years ago...

"Steady, Serena! Steady, keep your grip on the reins, just like that! Wait, no, keep holding on! It is imperative you maintain control on the horse! You can only perform this if you two work together!"

"What makes you think I want this?!" I screamed out of frustration, face first in the sandy ground as a result of falling off the horse once again.

"If you want to become the best horse rider, you need to be able to do something as simple as this easily," she said, walking towards me with a bottle of water for me. I gladly took it, but I was still pretty miffed about everything else.

"Mummy, this is over half my height!"

"It's the horse jumping, not you, that's not an excuse."

"S-still! I can't do this."

She picked me up off the ground and dusted me off. "Yes you very well can Serena Yvonne, you just need to want to."

"I don't want to do this though!"

"Then what do you want to do then?"

"..."

My mother sighed. "You may not like it very much, but trust me when I say that something like this is still better than doing nothing with your life."

"I'm 10, mummy, I have time."

She shook her head. "It's better to start early. You'll become a great rider someday, I can already see big Serena on the top step at the Olympics. Doesn't that sound lovely?"

"I guess..."

"That's why it's important to keep trying, to keep going at it: because you'll never get that far by sitting around moping." Me in her arms, she approached the horse, mounting me on it again so that I can inevitably throw myself off once more. "Now let's try again. I need to keep up my legacy somehow."

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"My memory of those days are foggy. There was a time when I enjoyed horse riding, but that time was long over before I actually got to stop doing it. Yes, my mother was, well is, one of those people. How do I put this in a way to reassures you I still love her? She's, well, steadfast. A very determined person, something I think I might have inherited. Doesn't like taking no for an answer, kinda like the man I married. Not in that way.

Every time I think of my mum though, I realise how we're not that much different after all. It doesn't just limit itself to our stubbornness. I think we both want the same thing in life: to be remembered."

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24 years ago

I came downstairs, still angry at the failed horse lesson that morning, grabbing ingredients to make lunch out of the fridge.

"Serena, honey, this might be interesting to you," my mum called me over.

I took a quick glance: it was a news story. What about it?

"A teenage boy jumped off the Eiffel Tower last night after his pet mouse fell off the edge. Miraculously, he survived, and is now here to tell his story." The boy looked familiar.

"It's really something, isn't it?" Mum asked. "That requires balls."

I kept my attention on the TV. "Well, some, uh, unique members of an organised crime group from where I'm from were here too, and they tried to use this poor zoo animal to wreak havoc on Paris," the boy started talking, obviously nervous at the thought of being interviewed and choosing his words carefully so as to not upset more mafia bosses. "I went up there to try and break the collar they were using to put it into a state of stress, and I did it! But my little mouse pet I met along the way fell off in the process, so I had to save him y'know?"