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It was another ordinary day at Smith Farms. The green grass swayed in the breeze as the overcast sky hung over the Kentucky land. Today was slightly different. A guest had come for a short while.
All of this was Gary’s. Sure his father owned the house and land, but the horses that inhabited it belonged to Gary. They came when called, ran to greet him, and most listened.
“Hey moron, step back a bit,” Gary ordered, pushing his companion back.
Jimmy had been the guest.
The ginger complied, as he didn’t want to get kicked by these massive beasts. These things were about as big as Norton Williams and Bif Taylor. Maybe they even had a few inches on them.
Gary stepped inside the stall of a young stallion, Rue. Rue was a green four-year-old with hardly any experience other than halter training. He was the son of his mare Deady Debutante, although it’d be s shocker to some. Rue’s sooty buckskin coat contrasted with Debutante’s bold bay sabino pattern. Rue had no other markings than the white diamond on his forehead covered by his puffy forelock.
He gently put the yellow halter over his head and led the youngster to the crossties. Jimmy watched Gary gently tack up the young stallion. He noticed how Gary kept flopping and kicking around anything he could. Rue’s ears flicked and turned at all the noises. His head perked up a few times upon hearing the metal pang and jostle. Jimmy would follow as Gary led Rue into the indoor arena and chose to sit on the bleachers and spectate. For moral support.
Gary placed a foot in the stirrup and hoisted himself up and over into the saddle. The brunette patted the stallion on the neck to let him know he was being good. Once Rue had adjusted, Gary applied pressure on his sides to have him walk. The pair maneuvered around the arena, slow at first, but quickly picked up the pace over trot poles. Occasionally Gary corrected Rue on his pace and used his crop to make him mind the speed limit.
Jimmy spectated from the stands, watching as Gary controlled this thousand-pound stallion like a bike. He made it look so easy, so effortless. In a way, it did make Jimmy a tad bit jealous. Sometimes he wished he was sophisticated and well-written. Instead, Jimmy was just a loose cannon with nobody there to restrain his impulsive hostile nature. His brown eyes up to the skylight. He took notice of how dark the sky was. It looked like an evening at only 3-o’-clock in the afternoon. The clouds were heavy and dark, and a storm brewed above. He imagined it brewing in the sky. The water would swirl and churn the sky like a whirlpool.
Gary didn’t focus on the clouds. What he focused on was getting Rue to clear these tiny jumps. Rue wasn’t exactly the bravest of stallions and could be timid. That was what Gary wanted to eliminate. He desired to get Rue out of his comfort zone. Maybe, someday even turn him into a cross-country champion, or perhaps a Grand Prix jumper like his dam.
However, his hopes, and Gary himself, crashed down quite literally.
A massive roar of thunder ripped through the air and rattled the walls. Rue squealed and bucked. The stallion stumbled over his own feet as Gary attempted to keep his seat. But Gary was sent harshly to the floor as Rue bolted.
Jimmy’s eyes widened, and he immediately got down from the stands. He quickly came to Gary’s side, kneeling over him.
‘Gary, are you alright?” He asked, concerned. That fall looked nasty.
“I’m fine- moron-” Gary rasped, clearly holding back tears as he cradled his leg.
“Let me see.” Jimmy insisted as he pried Gary’s hands from his injured leg.
After Jimmy prodded a bit, he concluded that Gary had sprained or broken his ankle. Without even acknowledging Rue, Jimmy hoisted Gary into his arms.
“Put me down,” Gary wavered, “I can walk on my own.”
“No, you can’t. Also, didn’t anyone tell you it’s ok to cry, Gary?” He asked.
“Shut up, moron.” He hiccupped, refusing to swallow his pride. However, a few tears did slip from his eyes.
Jimmy had taken him back to the stall area and had Gary sit down and take off his boot. Now that had to be painful for Gary. His ankle had already started to swell up. The ginger ventured past the tack rack and into the feed closet. There he dug into the deep freezer and retrieved an ice pack. He walked out and sat beside Gary, handing the cold compress to him. The brunette carefully set it over his injured ankle. Jimmy saw his jaw clenched and that his eyes had been squeezed shut.
He sat beside Gary, carefully rubbing his back to comfort him for moral support.
"Gary, are you alright?” He asked that fall looked nasty.