Just Ales

Chapter 13 (Just Ales)

I yanked my hand out of Jack's as we approached the room where the Pony Club meetings were held. My face was flushed and my chest felt really constricted. Walking into a room full of elegantly dressed teenagers did not help help me. My battered jeans and dusty paddock boots contrasted with their clean jodhpurs. I stifled an ironic smirk: if I revealed that I was Ales right now, I don't think anyone would believe me. As Jack set up the DVD player and TV, I leaned against the counter by the window and tried to distract myself. How many birds could I see from the window? Okay, that was completely useless. I tugged my worn t shirt down over the top of my jeans and fidgeted my fingers. Jack clapped his hands and brought the attention to the front of the room. I continued to look out the window and wished I could jump out it. 

"Okay, listen up Pony Club!" Jack said as the credits for the Huntington Trials tape rolled across the screen. 

"I've asked that the younger Clubbers not show up to this meeting today because the footage that we are going to watch is more sensitive than our usual content. But I believe that it's important for you to watch, as accidents are not uncommon, especially in the eventing world. It is just an aspect of the sport that we must learn to deal with, and prevent as much as possible." 

With that, he stopped speaking, and let the events of the Huntington Trials begin to unfold on the screen. I snuck glimpses at the screen, in between window-distraction sessions. They had cut footage of me in the warm up ring with parts of my interview. Oh, I had been so cocky. My ears were filled with a muffling, buzzing sensation, so I only watched my body language. Careless hands flew threw the air as I gesticulated enthusiastically, lips stretched over a wide brimming smile. 

The room was drop dead silent, all eyes pinned to the TV. I watched as Hermes flew over a few more warm up jumps. His mane rippled in the wind, and his landing was sound on all four legs. I remembered how he had felt on the bit that morning, the pure energy that had flowed through the reins to my fingers. With the memory, my throat swelled, and I swallowed hard. The footage moved to an overview of the course, the interviewer commenting on the heavy gray clouds. I watched as Hermes and I moved into the starting box. His hind legs jittered around, and I watched my seat deepen and fingers close reassuringly on the reins on the screen. The lump in my throat grew bigger. Hermes had always been scared of storms. I couldn't count the times I had biked to the barn through late night storms to find him pacing his stall, restlessly scared. His liquid brown eyes would be spiked with fear, and I would rummage through his tack trunk to find his comfort blanket, a thin baby blue blanket that was worn through in places. Even if it was a sweaty summer heat storm, the calming blue of the blanket always helped him calm down. He would settle the minute I entered his stall, slowing his pacing to come by me to receive his blanket. I would t-touch massage his neck until his muscles relaxed. A few times he had fallen asleep on me, head and neck slung over my shoulder, shifting his weight towards my body. More than once Jer had come to do midnight rounds through the barn and had found me asleep in the stall doorway, with only the rope division hung so Hermes could lie down near me without me having to sleep in dirty shavings. 

On screen, past me and Hermes started the course just as the rain started falling down in sheets. My blonde hair darkened and plastered to the back of my show jacket within seconds, that's how heavily the rain was. Hermes' gray coat grew slick as we took the first few jumps. We galloped through the mud into the woods, and the camera didn't follow us there. Only I knew what happened. 

I couldn't watch this footage, this footage of after. My fingers clenched around the bottle of water in my hand. Everyone else in the room watched the TV intently. I felt exposed, even under the hair dye and colored contacts. The brown only served to make me feel so much dirtier for what I had done, for what I was hiding from. Tears threatened to spill over from my eyelids, and I crushed the bottle in my hands. Jack turned his head at the sound, but quickly snapped his head back to the screen as I came in focus, Hermes' head cradled in my lap. 

At that sight, I couldn't take it anymore. I couldn't stand in this room and bear witness to these events for a second time. It had smashed my heart to irrecoverable pieces the first time, and I was not patched up enough to even begin to witness this again for a second time. 

Water bottle clutched in hand, I ducked my head so that my brown hair created a curtain between me and the Pony Clubbers and walked out of the room. The minute the door shut behind me, I crumpled against the wall, sobs ripping through my chest. After a full minute, my tears slowed, and I forced some water past the lump in my throat. After another minute, I made myself stand up straight, fix my shirt, and wipe the tear tracks from my cheeks. 

Jer walked by then, hands full of paperwork. He glanced up and noticed my composure. 

"Ah," he said gruffly. "The Trials."

I nodded, and hiccuped a little. 

"You need a distraction. Castaway's been looking a little restless in his stall, and I don't think Jack has had the time to take him out recently. Why don't you do it?"

"Sure," I said, wiping my face again and taking a big breath. "No problem."

Jer looked up from his paperwork, and noticed the water bottle in my hands. "Drink that," he said, motioning towards it. I obediently took another sip. "I just wrapped up my meeting with Nicholas. You can probably still catch him here if you want to." 

I crinkled my eyebrows at him in confusion. "Is there anything you want me to tell him? I just saw Nicholas earlier."

He scratched his head and looked a little caught off guard. "Er....no...I just...paperwork," He waved his paperwork around and walked away quickly. I brushed off his weird behavior and headed towards Castaway's stall. Luckily it was a beautiful day outside, and Castaway would enjoy a nice jog in the temperate weather.