Just Ales

Chapter 8 (Just Ales)

To me, it had all started when I was in third grade. I had no recollection of anything pertaining to this matter before that, although I have no doubt that it was in existence.  My younger brother, Amos, was in second grade, and already struggling academically. My parents set him up with personal tutors, and they studied with him every night. Bedtime stories went out the window for me, because Amos needed BOTH parents so he could get a B on his subtraction test.

That year, I failed long division.

I had always been troubled in the math department, but my struggles had been brushed under the rug because precious Amos needed help.

Nobody rushed home to help me study.

No tutor was arranged, neither parent stayed up late talking to school officials on the telephone.

No one even asked if I needed help.

And I began to see the true “family” dynamic, one that would only grow worse and much more painful over the years.

***

Sweat was beading around my hairline as I mucked out stalls steadily and systematically. I paused, leaning on the pitchfork to scrape my hair into a sloppy ponytail, ignoring Jer. He was leaning on the stall door, talking, and I wasn’t paying attention. Calluses burned on my palms, but I relished the pain and focused all of my attention on the mind-numbing task of sifting the dirty sawdust into the wheelbarrow.

“I’ve registered you at The Wheeler School, which is the local public high school. I doubt that you’ll know anybody….of course, they’ve all heard about your competition life-“ Jer’s droning broke off as Jack tossed a rolled-up magazine at him.

“What’s this?” he inquired.

Jack shrugged. “Just thought you might like to see it.”  He looked particularly dejected for some reason.

Jer quickly scanned the cover before chuckling and handing the magazine over to me. “Don’t believe everything you read, Jack.” His face held a look of particular amusement.

I wiped my hands on my jeans before accepting the mag. My heart leapt at the sight of the cover picture: I was holding the reins of Hermes, who was looking elegantly at the camera, his ears pricked and neck arched. The bold black letters below read, “ALESSANDRA HEARTWOOD DEAD! An eyewitness at the Huntington Trials reveals how the beloved equestrienne refused medical help, then returned to her hotel and slipped into a coma. Read this exclusively in Star Tracker.”

By now Jer was laughing himself into a fit and Jack was just standing there, dumbfounded. I returned the magazine to him, and allowed myself a small giggle. After all, I didn’t expect to stay Mollie Andrews forever, just until I was comfortable and confident enough to let people know who I actually was. I snorted. Maybe then Star Tracker could do an article about how I rose from the dead!

“You haven’t seen her for two years, Jer!” Jack said, waving his hands avidly for emphasis. “For all you know, this is true!”

Jer took out a blue handkerchief and mopped his forehead, shoulders heaving. He took a few deep breaths to calm himself.

“I’m almost certain that she isn’t dead,”

“Really? When’s the last time you talked to her?”

“Ales?” Jer looked thoughtful. “She called me about three months ago.”

“Right when the accident was!” Jack said, pounding his fist on the stable door. “There’s an article about it in EQ and we keep getting calls from reporters wondering if it’s true! Apparently there’s also going to be a special on Horse TV because she’s vanished since then! How are you not panicking?!”

“Oh, very easily.”

I listened to this conversation, highly amused but slightly worried. Now that the public was on the hunt for Alessandra Heartwood, would it be even harder to hide who I was?

Jer shrugged his shoulders at Jack, who looked a bit red in the face.

“Well, I’m worried if you aren’t. This stable- everyone in it- idolizes that girl! All of the young riders look up to her and this will affect them greatly!” Jack said, now pacing back and forth. I struggled to keep a straight face. If only he knew.

Jer took another breath, and started talking again, in a more serious voice (although I still detected an undercurrent of humor)

“I will make an announcement later that Alessandra is safe and sound, and you needn’t worry.”

Jack looked up, eyes wide. “Do you know where she is?”

Jer looked at me, straight into my eyes.

“I don’t know anymore.”

I broke the eye contact and pushed past Jack and into the aisle before turning to face Jer.

My voice was wobbly, and I couldn’t hear myself over the blood pounding in my ears, “You should probably go find her then. She may be lost.”