Page 47 of Chasing After You
“Ness,” Matti gets my attention again. Then he goes frigid at my side when Frank moves to open the stall door.
“Jasper’s just a young kid, kind of like a teenager. A bit wild, always testing the rules. But he’s smart and he’s got a good heart.” Frank turns to look around our little group. “It’s good practice for him to interact with new people, so we make a point of bringing in someone from every tour to handle him. Anyone up for helping me out with Jasper’s little lesson today?”
No one says a word out loud. But all eyes go straight to Matti.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
MATTI
“Damn.” I shake my head at the lot of them. “For people I used to think of as family, you’re a shitty group of traitors.”
“Come on, Matti.” Roni doesn’t sound at all as encouraging as her words might suggest. It’s more of a sneer really. A taunting if you will. “I thought facing your fears was what this trip was all about.”
She’s not entirely wrong.
Even if the fear I came to face has little to do with horses.
Still. It’s high time I do what I came here to do. And if I can’t get a moment of her undivided attention without facing off with a horse first, then I’ll face the horse.
“I’ll do it,” I announce, louder than necessary. Once I thought the words, they just kind of exploded out of me. Mostly, I think I just needed them out, heard by others, so I couldn’t talk myself out of the decision again.
“Great,” Frank looks pleased, though there’s a sense of confusion still hanging on his face, like he knows something else is going on here and he just can’t put his finger on it. Yet. He will soon enough. Everyone will. “Come on over and I’ll talk you through what we’re going to do. Then we’ll go in, and you can practice it with Jasper. Sound alright to you?”
“Sure.” I swallow down every desire to decline the offer and instead force my feet to move one in front of the other until I reach him. Once there, I stay safely on my side of the open stall door, firmly planted on the cement flooring of the barn aisle.
“First thing we’re going to do is introduce ourselves,” Frank explains. “You know how dogs get to know you through smell? Horses are a lot like that too. If you ever watch them interacting, they’ll often blow softly into each other’s nostrils.”
“You want me to blow into the horse’s nose?” God, I hope he says no.
“Not necessarily.” He chuckles. “I’m just preparing you in case he tries to do it to you. If you suddenly see his muzzle moving for your face, just know he’s not trying to bite you.”
“Okay.” I’m still backing the hell up if it does though.
Frank goes over a few more basic instructions. Most I’m familiar with, thanks to the many years and countless attempts of people trying to ease my fears of horses. Don’t startle them. Don’t walk up from behind them without warning. Watch their ears. And their eyes. That’s how they’ll communicate fear and agitation to you. The list goes on.
“So,” Frank reaches for a halter hanging on a hook just outside the stall door, “you ready to do this?”
I take the halter being offered to me and nod. “Let’s get it done and over with.”
Frank chuckles again. I notice he’s been doing this every minute or so since interacting with me. I’m sure I look like a fucking idiot to him.
“Remember, I’m gonna be right behind you in case you need help, but I’m gonna let you run the show in there,” Frank says, stepping aside to usher me into the stall. “And if you both pull it off, there’s a treat at the end.”
“For me or the horse?” I’m joking. Maybe I’m not. Maybe I want a treat for what I’m about to do.
“Both of you.” Then he laughs again. Damn cowboy.
Jasper, a decidedly large horse for one who’s supposedly still a teenager, is mostly brown with a black mane, except for one white leg and a large blaze covering nearly the entirety of his face. Ness would probably say he’s a pretty horse. I can’t personally see that right now, but I’m sure it’s possible it’s true.
“Hey, there,” I mumble quietly, keenly aware of the importance regarding not startling the horse.
He snorts in response, lifting his head from the hay pile he’s been enjoying and which he clearly finds more interesting than the likes of us, hanging around outside his door. Or inside, as the unfortunate case may be.
“Sorry to interrupt your breakfast,” I go on, daring another step closer. “If it helps, I’m told there will be some sort of reward for the both of us if you let me do what I’m here to do.”
Jasper seems disinterested in my offer. Instead, he drops his head back to his hay and begins munching on it again.
Fear starts to spiral inside me. One irrational thought after the next piles on as I’m confronted with the prospect of having to approach this horse which is so clearly not wanting to be bothered. Not to mention, he’s no longer looking at me, so he can’t see me move closer. And I can’t see his eyes. Or get a good angle on his ears. Are they turned back? Are they listening? Are they flattening in anger? Fuck me, this horse is going to kill me. Either with a swift kick to the head or by way of a heart attack.
