The New Life: One Rein Stop

I sat with D in the front yard. The fire pit was roaring in front of us. He’d come up for deer season, but by the amount of whiskey we’d both already consumed I knew we weren’t getting up early. “Glad you came.” I said with a smile.

“No problem. I hope you find your buck tomorrow.” He said then took a swig of his straight whiskey.

“That has to burn.” I mumbled as I rolled mine around in my hand.

“You do it too.” He retorted, “Sometimes straight out of the bottle. Don’t deny it I’ve seen you do it!”

“Yeah but I don’t take big swigs like that.” I mumbled.

He laughed, “So how did yesterday go? He show up at the range?”

I nodded thinking about the mess of last night, “tore me to pieces.”

“He did?” He asked.

“No. Just seeing him, the circle of the conversation we had made it worse.” I mumbled then took a drink. The whiskey filled my nose then slid down my throat and burned. I stared at the fire. “Sucks.” I whispered.

“Just when you’re starting to heal.” D mumbled back.

I nodded. “But I guess it’s time to move on. He’s not willing to stop running.” I paused then looked over to D, “I remember the first time I did a one rein stop. It was shortly before I was in my riding accident, same damn horse.” I paused as I imagined the blood bay, “We were in a circuit show. He spooked and clamped down on the bit.” I leaned back in the chair and took another drink of my whiskey, “I reached down on the left and pulled, just enough to slow him. It took a little bit but he eventually stopped.” I said closing my eyes. “Everything was okay after that.” The tears were beginning to form.

It was quiet for a little bit, I listened to the fire pit and fought the tears and memories. “Beck.” He whispered.

I cut him off “The thing about a one rein stop is sometimes you flip the horse and more then likely you get hurt. Hurt bad.” I trailed off.

He sighed, “You just have to know how much pressure to put on.”

I nodded. “I was once told that if a one rein stop didn’t work your last resort was to watch out for the yucca plants and bail.” I looked over at D and half heartily smiled. “Should I bail?” I asked him.

He leaned back in his chair and looked up at the pitch black sky, “I can’t tell you that. But I can tell you that when I first learned to ride a motorcycle I was taught that if you ever get into a wreck stay with the bike.”

I nodded then looked down at my whiskey. “I had a friend in high school that was drinking whiskey. He blew it into the fire then inhaled really quickly, burned his face, nostrils and throat.”

D stared at me, “Wow that was a real change of subject.”

I smiled, “sometimes you have to change leads.”

He nodded. “What does that mean?”

I shrugged. “I don’t know.”

“Watch out for the yucca plants.” He said with a smile.

“I’m more worried about the barbed wire fence.”

He nodded, “I think it’s funny how you relate everything to training horses.”

I laughed, “Well I am a horse trainer.”

“And a damn good one. Don’t ever doubt that.” He said with a smile.

We sat in silence for a little while. “I’m getting my knee done.”
“I know.” He said quietly.

“What happens if I don’t recover and don’t make it to the Olympics?” I mumbled staring straight ahead.

He sighed, “Your going to make it.”