Just Ales

Chapter 4 (Just Ales)

I sat down in front of Jack's desk. He sat in his chair, his head in his hands. We were both silent for a while, thinking hard. How could I tell him? He had trained me through my ups and downs, through all of that drama. Jer and I had been a family when it had counted, and I had destroyed something that was most precious to both of us. 

"Why are you back? Not that I'm not glad to see you- I am overjoyed. However, I thought....?" Jer let the implications hang heavily in the air. I felt them settle on my shoulders and felt another wave of tears. They were so much worse than he was imagining. 

"Hermes is dead." I said bluntly, speaking his name for the first time in three months. The name felt sodden and numbing on my tongue, like a shot of novocaine. 

I saw pain flash through Jer's eyes, so much pain. He didn't want to show it because that would only hurt me more. I'd felt it a million times worse because it was me who had been riding him. 

"It was the Huntington Trials," my voice broke. "We were going to start our European Tour." This time I couldn't stop the tears from coursing down my cheeks as I remembered that fateful day:

"So how are you feeling about today's events, Ms. Heartwood?" the reporter asked. I couldn't remember her name, but she had dark hair and fuschia lipstick that split into a wide white smile. I smiled broadly. "Confident. Hermes and I are completely ready- I have a lot of faith in my horse. This is our last show before heading off to Europe, so hopefully we'll get the send-off we deserve." Oh goodness I sounded conceited, but I mentally shrugged. I was Alessandra Heartwood. I had the right to be conceited if I wished. Just then I heard my name and number being called through the loudspeaker. "Alessandra Heartwood, 143, Heartwood, 143, you are wanted in the starting box. 143 report to the starting box." I had widened my grin, more full of myself than ever. 143. I Love You. I thought it was my lucky day. 

I bid farwell to the reporter and the camera crew, and got a leg up onto Hermes from a waiting groom. I nodded my thanks, and settled into the Stubben leather. My current trainer, Lenwood Brown, approached me. He was only in this for the money and fame, but I didn't care. I had never wanted another trainer since I left home and Jer. 

"Alessandra, because it rained last night the course is going to be sloppy. Don't push him. We don't want a sprained tendon before heading off to Europe. That's where it's really going to get internationaly crazy," Lenwood said, and looked up at the clouds. They looked like grey water balloons, ready to burst if anybody sneezed. 

I thanked him for his advice and pushed my helmet up determindedly. A few drops splattered onto my forehead and I wiped them off impatiently as I walked Hermes over to the starting box. He skittered to the side a little as the wind snapped around us, but I closed my legs around him and urged him on. Hermes let out a loud snort before dipped his head. I could feel him working the bit. He was ready. I was ready. It would be our big win so we could go into the tour champions. I backed him into his ready position; If I started him facing forwards, Hermes tended to get excited and rush the first couple fences. 

The bell sounded, I heeled Hermes, and his mane whipped as he whirled, his hooves plunged into the mud. The minute the bell started, the clouds opened. The bell had been the straw that broke the camel's back. However, we had started. I was not going back. Hermes and I headed towards the first fence, set up like a picnic table, and he leaped it easily. I half-halted him after, and he jerked on the reins. I reined him in again, and settled him into a fast canter. Cross-country was always our favorite discipline. I felt the wind sting through my hair, and Hermes ducked his head and yanked on the reins again. I smiled into the wind and felt my eyes burn. Hermes took the next two fences with grace, and the spectators applauded before we headed into the forest. I checked him again, he was starting to rush, although I felt the underlying thread of fear in his gait. 

Thunder boomed overhead, and lightening zinged down, and lit up the sky. Hermes huffed out a loud breath; he hated storms. "It's okay, boy, don't worry. Let's finish the course and then get you back in your nice, dry stall," I coaxed him. We were approaching the fourth jump, a pile of logs. Another stripe of lightening crackled. Hermes spooked, and slipped in the muddy approach. He managed to make a tremendous leap over it, and then went down. I had flown like a rag doll from his back during the leap, and a branch from the logs ripped it's way up my arm. I didn't care, because at that point I saw Hermes. 

He was lying in the mud, whickering for me. His left foreleg was curiously bent. That's when I knew it was over. I knew the next rider would be along soon, so I took off my vest and helmet, and placed them on the flags by the jump, so the rider would know something was wrong. I sat in the freezing rain, and held Hermes head. I let the blood from my arm drip onto his sleek grey coat. I let my tears mingle with the rain. But I talked to him the entire time, my voice soothing and sure. Hermes calmed when he listened, although I could still detect pain in those gorgeous brown eyes. I wanted to die, instead of him. He was so unselfish. He was what had brought me together when my life was falling apart. He had given me the wings to fly. And now, because of me, he was going to be dead. Because of me. 

I don't know how long we sat like that, my horse and I. His head settled in my lap, his eyes only held trust and pain. I wanted to kill myself. The other rider had see my signal, and had alerted the judges, who came along with a doctor and the vet. As the vet euthanized Hermes, I stared only into his eyes. As I watched the spark vanish from them, and the head in my lap go limp, I felt like a part of me had died. I watched the trailer cart my beloved Hermes away, and I swore I would never ride again. 

That night, as I sat numbly in my hotel room, I realized I had to go back home. I needed what was familiar in this time of need. I needed Jer, I needed my sister. And so, I packed what little clothes I had brought, and left my Charles Owen helmet at the starting box. The judges watched me clip it to the starting flag, and ordered that no one touch it. They realized the blows I had taken. 

The next three months were a blur. 

I traveled slowly, making my way back home. I worked little, slept little, ate little, and smiled none. Why should I be allowed those pleasures when I had killed my best friend? 

As I got further away from where....it.... had happened, I found the news hadn't spread like wildfire as I'd expected. It felt like the media wanted to give me a little peace, some privacy to deal with what happened. I was glad. I couldn't deal with hounding reporters and paparazzi. I had no idea how long it would last, but I wanted to go from Alessandra Heartwood, the best junior rider in the nation, back to Ales, the girl who loved to ride. To ride just for the love of it. To love. 

I looked up at Jer, who was silently crying. Although he tried to hide it, his shoulders shook. 

We stayed like that in his office for hours, just crying. 

When my eyes had finally rid themselves of their tears, I curled up in my chair and fell asleep. 

**A/N: SO we finally found out what happened to Hermes. Depressing, right? I could barely write this- I was about to start bawling. Although we still don't know about Ales's familay problemos. But at least she's back with Jer (kind of like her adopted father) **

R E A D V O T E C O M M E N T

Picture to the right is of Hermes ---> For those horse people reading this, I decided that he should be an Arabian for these simple reasons: They are known for their endurance (Hermes' favorite was cross-country; the most endurance-based part of a 3 day event.) Arabs are also very high strung and skittish. This would play a factor in his accident, although most horses would not have been calm and steady jumping a fence in a lightening storm. At least, not the ones I have, and besides, that it so dangerous it's ridiculous. But I wanted to do it for the story ;)