Heart and Soul (rewrite)

Chapter Nine

After that run midnight rides became commonplace. Annie would sneak out to the barn, put on my bridle, and ride me bareback in shorts and bare feet. I loved it. It was welcome respite from polo.

I still loved polo, but it was becoming more difficult, more of a thinking game, and I preferred speed games. It was my second season, and my third year with Mom, Dad, Annie, and Owen, when it all went down hill.

It was a normal practice, on a quiet summer night. The heat of the day had fled, leaving a pleasant coolness that rushed through my roached mane and made me shiver.

Dad gave Mom a leg up and waved her off as she trotted me out to the field. Two other horses were out already, stick and balling before we began, as we were playing in the first chukkar. Mom hit a few balls off me, but we mostly cantered. She felt uncoordinated and stiff, the opposite of how she usually rode, but I ignored it, cantering quietly, head down.

The air horn blasted its note and we took up our positions, milling around the umpire. He threw the ball in, and the game began. I felt Mom thrown off balance by my acceleration, which had never happened before, but I kept galloping, heading towards the ball. She swung at it and missed, so I cantered past and turned around, heading back to the line of the ball. Mom suddenly dropped my reins. I hesitated, concerned. She wobbled in the saddle before slumping over my neck. Something was seriously wrong. I was unsure what to do, then slowed to a walk, and took painstakingly slow steps back to the trailer. I stopped there and waited. Dad was at another trailer, talking to a fellow player, while Annie and Owen were across the field on Rex and Doxie. I whinnied loudly. No reply. Mom started to slip off my back. I shifted my weight, but still she slid. I whinnied again as I flipped my head around and caught Mom's shirt in my teeth, lowering her to the ground. She lay unconcious at my feet, and I whinnied for a third time.

Dad looked and saw Mom, then sprinted over. He lifted her up in his arms, and started yelling. People yelled back, and a massive commotion erupted around us. Within twenty minutes Mom was gone, Dad with her, and Annie and Owen vanished as well. Paloma, Vikingo, Doxie, Rex and I stood at another trailer, surrounded by strange horses. We spent the night at a strange barn, and I worried about Mom while sleep evaded me.

The following morning Dad arrived, Annie in tow, and she ran to Doxie. Dad rubbed Paloma's face as he thanked the man who'd taken care of us. I searched for Mom, but only Owen followed. We drove home in silence, me consumed by worry, all the others staring out the windows at the flashing scenery.

We passed the wrought iron sign and drove up the gravel path by noon, and we were turned out minutes later. I was too upset to graze, and all I did was pace the fence line. Was Mom ever coming back? Had I done something wrong? Annie and I continued our midnight rides, but my mind was always on Mom.

A week after the accident a car pulled into the driveway, and Mom stepped out. I whinnied loudly to her, and felt a burden lifted off my shoulders. She was okay!

The following week, Annie came to the barn in tears. Doxie and Rex had to be sold to pay for Mom's medical bills. They were the two horses who didn't play, and Vikingo was an easy ride for Owen. Mom had a tough time convincing Annie. She clung to Doxie and cried, begging Mom in a broken voice to let her stay. But Mom was adamant, and Doxie was posted for sale. Rex took the news devoid of emotion.

"We all leave sometime. Nothing good ever lasts." He nickered, and one day the pessimistic pony was loaded on a trailer, and we only ever saw him again at polo games.

There was one last game Doxie attended, and she stood beside me with her head down until Annie mounted and rode off at a slow walk. Dad rode me today, for the first time in at least a year, and he was rougher than Mom. I didn't like it. Mom asked me with her leg, turning me lightly with a single cue, while Dad used his reins to spin me after the ball.

I got sick of it quickly, and after an especially hard jerk I took off bucking, throwing my hindquarters high in the air. Dad came off but I kept going, heading for the road. There were cries of surpise and warning, but I kept galloping, the loose stirrups slamming into my sides. Then I saw Doxie out of the corner of my eye, gaining fast. A race! I sped up, swallowing the ground in massive strides, and Doxie opened her stride accordingly. This time, I would beat Doxie. Annie was crouched over her neck like a jockey, urging her on with every stride. I crossed the polo field and bounded over the road, Doxie just behind me. We crossed into the woods, leaping logs and weaving through trees. I slowed at a creek, unsure what to do, and Annie reched over and grabbed my bridle, breathing hard with exhilaration. She patted Doxie's neck and rubbed my muzzle, then led us back quietly.

We reached our trailer and a strange woman approached us. "That was an amazing run! I'll give you ten thousand for your bay mare. The chestnut seems... high strung.

I snorted. I was a perfectly good horse. Dad sorted out the details, and I said goodbye to Doxie. I would miss that bay mare with the crooked blaze and two white feet, but as she left Annie hugged my neck.

"Looks like we're stuck with each other."