Kansas Summer

Conversation By The Lake

Before we know it, the semester ends. Summer has finally arrived. Jenna and I are ready to leave school on the last day. After long hours with exams, it's nice to leave school early after we are finished with our sixth period ones. Driving away in the truck, I rev the engine extra loudly, proclaiming my freedom for the next few months. Every nice country song blasts happily through the radio as we drive out to Jenna's house. We sing along to every one.

“Are you ready to go?” Jenna calls to me.

“Sure am!” I answer enthusiastically. We hold hands all the way down to the paddock. Jenna insists that we skip down the gravel path, and before I can reply I am dragged against my will at a breakneck pace. Sierra and Cimarron are waiting at the gate for us when we get there. By now I have been over here too many times to count on one hand, and have become quite proficient at putting Sierra's halter on, and this time, I get it right the first time. Jenna takes Cimarron out first, and I follow with Sierra. The stubborn horse nibbles playfully at my hand as we walk up to the barn.

“Stop that!” I protest, but the horse does not understand English, “I have no treats for you this time!” Sierra tosses her head and whinnies in disappointment. I can hear Jenna laugh, and I give the mare some scratches behind the ears.

We have the horses brushed off and saddled up in ten minutes. The air is hot and the wind is light as Jenna, atop Cimarron, and I, atop Sierra, walk down the gravel path. Once we reach the end, Jenna clicks Cimarron into a steady trot. I click to Sierra, and she moves faster to keep up with her companion. The dry grass crunches under the hooves of the horses. Sierra snorts as Cimarron kicks up a dandelion, spraying the flying seeds into her nose.

Jenna taught me to post when I trot, and I've been working hard to improve my posture. Posting, I've learned, is when you move up and down during a trot. It's rhythmic, and I think it's supposed to be more comfortable for the rider and the horse. I wasn't comfortable with it at first, but now that I'm doing more of it, it's becoming second nature. I still can't beat Jenna. While it's almost second nature to me, it's just natural for her.

After about twenty minutes of riding, we reach our destination. It is a small pond by a large apple tree. Jenna dismounts, and I follow. Gently, Jenna takes the bit out of Cimarron's mouth, and she rubs the gelding's mane. Cimarron lowers his muscular head and begins to rip off juicy clumps of grass. Jenna also unbuckles his saddle and sets it below the bridle, which she hangs on a tree branch. I follow her example, and soon, Sierra is happily grazing also.

I fall down in the cool, lush grass and pull off my boots. My socks come off next, my toes squirm about in the green sea. It was so nice to be away from school, and to have a whole summer ahead of me. A whole summer ahead of Jenna and me.

“Let's jump! Come on, Jenna!”

“No, I really don't want to. You jump first, and then I'll decide!”

“Aww, you're just scared!” If someone is going to take the first leap, it might as well be me. I run to the edge of the pond, and then push off of a protruding branch. The feeling of weightlessness for a few seconds is indescribable, but the feeling goes away when I hit the water. A sharp pain streaks across my left side as a huge splash ensues. I touch the shallow bottom, layered with mud, and push back up to the surface. My head breaks water, and I shake my hair out of my face. I look back at Jenna with a grin. “The water's nice!”

“Alright, here I come! Colin, catch me!” Jenna takes a flying leap off the same branch and soars towards me. For a second, I debate whether or not to get out of the way. Before I know it, it is too late to react. Jenna crashes into me and we both splash underwater. My foot gives way under me and I slide down to the muddy bottom. Jenna and I emerge from the surface, but I have gotten the worst of the collision. I am filthy all up my left side. Jenna can only stand and laugh at me while I wash it off.