The Mare

Velvet

When we got there the parking lot was busy, with trailers and cars and horses being groomed and more people coming. When she came out of the trailer, Fiery Girl tossed her head and stepped quick, one foot to the other; her veins were standing out of her silky skin and I was afraid she’d spook. But when I put my hands on her I felt right away that it was something else bubbling up in her, something I didn’t know yet.

I wanted to groom her and tack her myself, but Pat said to let Gare do that, we were gonna walk the course. Which was also busy — there were like ten other girls walking it and also their trainers, and I could hear little bits of their talking and it seemed like their thinking too. A couple of them talked loud about somebody’s horse being too short-strided or said shit like “Good luck on that one,” like for me to hear — it was just annoying, and made it hard to count the steps and listen to Pat, even if she was talking like drilling words into my head.

“The first is the simplest, but it’s important because it sets the tone,” she said. “So you want to giddyup over that, then settle down and whoa a little bit at the second, pick it up again on three — four, look, piece of cake, collect yourself there, check your balance. Five, though — pay attention!” I could see what she meant; the outside fence near five was curved inward to avoid some big trees and there were a lot of trees right up against the fence sideways after the jump, which could make the horse feel like she was jumping into the trees. “Nothing she and you can’t do. I’m thinking put your left leg on so you’re almost jumping right because she’s probably gonna drag you left. And when you land, don’t forget the basics: use the corners for balance and take the cleanest lines between the jumps — the ground here is good and solid, so that’s a plus.”

We walked the course twice and then she made me repeat it all back to her and finally we went back to my horse, and I was glad to kiss her scars and her crumpled ear, and also the beautiful braid Gare did. The show did not seem small anymore, and I realized I was a little bit scared. “Remember,” said Pat, “lively on the first jump, a little whoa on the second…” Fiery Girl breathed in and out of her open nose and laid back her good ear; she stretched out her lip like she wanted to nibble on me. I thought confidence and comfort. “…left lead canter to red toward home,” said Pat, “hay bales away…” Other girls were grooming their horses or leading them to the schooling area — I saw Joanne across the way; I saw Lorrie and Jeanne. I saw Lexy. “…outside line away from home, finish with a long ride to white diagonal.” Blood filled up my heart and suddenly I knew what my horse felt. I wanted to move, to kick and bite. I wanted to win so much I trembled, and I could not stop. Pat put her hand on my shoulder. “Calm down,” she said. “And tell me what you’re gonna do.”