Page 27 of SnapShot

He had someone covering for him at The Open Flame while he was here, forcing me to eat, cleaning up my vomit, and making sure I bathed. My perfect caretaker.

Kate has been here, too, of course. She’s been more involved with the police about the whole ordeal than even I have been. She’s got all the details for the court case. I’m the queen of avoidance, so I’ve been staying away from the whole mess when I can.

The guilt that I feel over shutting down when he wasn’t successful in his attempt is drowning me. There are many others who weren’t as lucky. They have actual reason to shut down, to push everyone away.

Charlie and Kate struggle to convince me that I have the same right. That I need to grieve and process what happened and how I’m feeling about it. I guess I just can’t get over the fact that it could have been so much worse. It was so close to being so much worse.

Unfortunately, now I realize why Pop always insisted that I learn to defend myself and pay attention to my surroundings. You just never know. It’s easier to think it would never happen to you, but the sad truth is that the probability of it is too high to risk being unprepared.

When Pop was overseas during war time, Grams stayed stateside to raise my mom. They were living in South Carolina at the time, far away from any family. One night, Grams woke up to someone breaking into their house. She said she was terrified for them to find my mom’s room, so she took a shotgun out of the closet and tiptoed down the hall toward the living room where the noise was coming from.

She said it was a scrawny guy that didn’t bother to cover his face. The fact that he left his face uncovered meant he either didn’t think anyone was home, or he wasn’t planning on leaving any witnesses to rat him out.

The sound of a shotgun being loaded is ranked as one of the most intimidating sounds ever. It must be true because Grams said as soon as she pumped the gun to load the bullet, the guy couldn’t get out the door fast enough, tripping over furniture and running into the door after he opened it. I guess he couldn’t be bothered to exit the house from the window that he broke coming in.

After that, Grams went through several rounds of self defense classes, just in case. She was one bad bitch, my Grams. I miss that woman to no end.

If she was here, she would hold me and bring me hot toddies while I cried, and then she would tell me to get off my ass and fuck shit up. She’d tell me all the great things that I had going for me, like my horse training gig, and she’d probably throw Charlie in that mix, too. She would’ve loved him.

She’d also ask me if I wanted to live my entire life as a victim, in that one moment where I felt helpless. And when I would’ve told her that I’m scared to get up, scared to leave the house, and scared to let anyone in, she would tell me to do it scared. That was her motto. Do it scared. Things won’t always be easy, and you won’t always be ready for what’s to come, but you can’t just wait for whatever it is to come hand your ass to you. You have to take control, even when it hurts. Even when you don’t want to. Even when you’re scared. I’m not someone who wants to let anybody get to me. Especially that piece of shit, so from here on out, I’m taking my Grams’ advice and doing it scared. I’m taking my fucking life back.

It’s great to have Charlie and Kate here to be my comfort people, but sometimes you just need someone to come drag you out of the darkness. Sometimes, that person is not with you anymore, and you have to do it your damn self.

Yee-Haw, Motherfucker

fourteen

Yee-Haw, Motherfucker

Haedyn

The next morning, I drag myself out of bed, and take the first shower I’ve had by myself in god knows how long. Charlie’s still asleep in my bed. I felt it was best to leave him be. I’m quickly growing used to his constant presence, but I need a minute to myself.

He and Kate have been great, but I’m starting to feel smothered. I know just the thing to pull myself further out of this funk, and I don’t want anyone trying to talk me out of it.

After I finish my shower and my coffee, I get dressed and head to the barn where we have an extra horse waiting to be trained. Kelly, one of the girls from work, called some time last week asking about getting her stud horse, Poseidon, trained.

She bought him from some auction upstate about a month ago. He was supposedly already trained, but you can never put too much faith in auctioneers. They’re just out to make a buck. They don’t give two fucks if the horse breaks your face, long as you buy the damn thing.

Needless to say, he was not trained, and she learned her lesson the hard way. Crazy ass horse broke her nose with his head, reared up on her and forced her head into his on the way down.

Kate took the call and told her to go ahead and drop him off with us. She tried to work with him some herself, but she doesn’t like the training part as much as I do. Plus I think her hands have been a little full of a certain Dairy Bar owner recently.

Gathering all the supplies I need from the barn, I find the bad boy himself waiting next to the gate. I’ve heard from Kate that Poseidon is a sweetheart until you actually get on him. Challenge accepted.

I quickly slip the halter over his head and bring him to the round pen. He’s nothing but a gentleman as I lead him around for a few laps. We’re just getting to know each other a bit. It’s not all about the ride. It’s about the relationship, the connection. The escape from reality. I could benefit from that right about now.

This is the first time I’ve been out of the house since the incident, and my chest feels tighter than normal. I haven’t thrown up yet, though, so I’m going to call it a win for now. I just need to focus. Everything will be fine. I’m safe here.

Poseidon is a big boy. The top of my head meets the top of his back. Granted, I’m only five foot five inches, but still. He’s a silky midnight black with a flowing tail and mane to match. The stripe down his nose is the only white on him. Such a beauty.

He’s about four years old, so it shouldn’t be too difficult to learn him some decent manners. First, I need to teach him how to stretch out for a lady because I’m not about to pull a hamstring trying to get my thick ass leg in the stirrup.

It’s one of the first tricks I teach every horse that I work with. It’s one of the easiest, too. I take the rubber end of my whip and start gently tapping the back of his front legs, just above his hooves. Then I pick up his left hoof since you always mount from the left side and place it about a foot ahead of his right one before walking around to repeat the motion on his other side.

Once I’m back on his left side, I smack him in what can only be compared to our armpit. Horses have thick skin, so even when it sounds like something would hurt, chances are it doesn’t. I repeat all of these steps, making him reset his feet each time and start from the beginning. After about twenty minutes, he’s the perfect gentleman, stretching out with the slightest tap on his leg or armpit. He’ll need some refreshers at the start of the next several sessions, but for the most part, horses have a good memory and learn quickly.

Moving on to the next order of business, I grab the saddle blanket and let him smell of it before placing it on his back. He does great, standing still as a statue. The saddle comes next, and he doesn’t move a muscle until I start to cinch it up tight around his belly. Even then, he only side steps a couple of times before giving in with a huff of air blown through his nostrils. It always makes me laugh when horses do that. It makes them seem so put out by whatever I’m doing with them.

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