A Leap For The Sky by Kc Wheeler (find a book to read .TXT) 📖

While still alert to his surroundings, he stood quietly, resting a hind leg.

Lucy gave him a scratch on his head. “Thank goodness you’ve calmed down.”

After what felt like forever we were heading towards the practice jumps, Lucy mounted and me walking because it was too soon to bring Gypsy out.

“Relax,” I told Lucy. She sat tense from nerves on Bugs’ back. He danced beneath her, head held high. “He’ll relax if you relax.”

Lucy looked at me, her eyes full of worry. Lucy had always been anxious at competitions, but today was the worst I’d seen her. Possibly both the poor weather and the new height were tipping her over the edge.

Steve was up ahead, speaking to one of the judges. He’d proven very helpful today, helping to groom, plat, and tack-up both horses.

The drizzle had eased off for now, but the dark sky promised more rain.

They were nearing the last of those competing in the 95 centimetres class, which meant Lucy would be on soon. “I’m going to go and warm up,” she told me. She smiled faintly. “Maybe he’ll calm down once we’re actually doing something.” Bugs didn’t need any encouragement to trot; he took off like a Standardbred racing in harness.

I had a lot of time to spare. I turned to face the ring, staying on both feet, the grass too wet to take a seat. Steve walked up beside me. “How is Lucy doing?” he asked.

“She’s pretty anxious,” I admitted.

Steve nodded knowingly. “I might go and see how she’s doing.”

“Okay.”

I watched a lean, grey horse pop cleanly around the course. His rider was well aware of the ground conditions and rode him accordingly. A few slick, skid marks led up to each jump, especially the wall jump- probably from horses skidding into refusal.

Wet, slippery mud.

I bit my lip, concerned. It was not the best day to be competing at a new height; I’d have to ride this course very, very carefully.

The next rider rode on too tight of a rein, causing her beautiful Arabian to fight for his head. She sat rigid. While holding him back, she also urged him forward with her spurs. The poor little horse was clearly very confused. He had no choice other than to leap into his fences. Without the freedom to use his head over the fence, he crashed down the top rail of the first jump. The rider responded to this by tightening her reins even further, causing the Arab to throw his head further back to avoid the pressure of her hands. Fighting her abruptly, he bounced into the next fence. Naturally, she held on tighter. Head to his chest, he plunged into the air in attempt to clear the fence. While his hind hoof hit the back pole, it miraculously managed to stay up.

The little horse bolted forward towards the next fence, mouth open wide against the Dutch Gag. I cringed as she sat back, her weight against his mouth. I caught a glimpse of her fearful face and wished for the horse’s sake that she’d retire.

Give him his head! I wanted to scream. But of course, I didn’t.

I watched with worry as they approached the third fence, an oxer. It appeared extra muddy in front of this fence. Unable to use his head and neck for balance, he slipped and slid straight into the jump.

There were gasps all around. Poles clattered loudly, scattering the ground. Helpers hurried to re-build the fence.

I watched, my anger growing, as the rider gave the frightened horse two hard smacks with the whip. He jumped forward, the whites of his wild eyes showing, his mouth foaming.

She trotted him around, waiting for her second chance to attempt the oxer. While she did so, she lengthened her reins slightly. I could almost hear the Arab sigh with relief as his eyes softened and he lowered his head. He trotted around obediently, stretching his stiff neck down towards the ground.

The bell rang and she re-tightened her reins.

His head shot back up.

The rider kicked him harshly into a fast, uncollected canter. He approached the fence with his ears flat against his head, tossing up mud as he ran. He again, skidded to a halt, his front hooves tapping the fence. Luckily this time the jump stayed standing.

By the third attempt both rider and horse had given up. The rider merely sat there, her legs still and ineffective. The little Arabian stopped metres out from the jump.

Three refusals. They were eliminated.

The girl rode out. Her face red beneath her helmet, I could see that she was crying. The horse looked simply relieved to be leaving the ring and I felt relieved for him also.

The fences were then put up to 1.05 metres. There were just two riders before Lucy was due on. The first rider rode too quickly, taking down three rails.

Lucy appeared beside me. Bugs’ warm up had definitely transformed him- He looked half asleep! “He looks calm,” I commented, rubbing beneath his forelock.

“He actually jumped really well in the warm up,” Lucy said. “I’m still so scared though. I’m sick with nerves; totally sick!”

“Maybe you should have entered 95 centimetres too,” I said. “Then you would have been more relaxed for your 1.05 metres round.”

“Well it’s too late now!” Lucy snapped in reply.

I raised an eyebrow at her, a smile playing on my lips. I was use to Lucy’s outbursts in situations that stressed her out.

“Sorry, I’m just so stressed,” she muttered apologetically.

I turned back to the ring. The current horse and rider had gone clear for the first round, but when the bell went off for the jump-off, in a desperate attempt to get a fast time, he pushed his horse too fast and he slipped, taking a rail.

“Lucy, go really slow. Don’t worry about time faults. A lot of people are taking rails because they’re going too quick. It’s too risky with the wet ground, both for the sake of taking rails and for the sake of Bugs,” I told her quickly.

Lucy didn’t reply. Her face tight with fear, she wandered slowly into the ring.

Poor Lucy. I felt bad for her. I hoped she’d do well.

“You’ll be fine Lucy!” Steve called after her.

Bugs had luckily remained calm- for now. He pottered around at the trot, softening into the bit as they waited for the starting bell.

Ding!

I crossed my fingers as Lucy sat back and asked Bugs for a canter. She collected him up and they approached the first fence. It was impossible to see Lucy’s face from here, but I could imagine she’d look terrified. Bugs on the other hand, pricked his ears, tucked up his knees and cleared the first fence confidently. He sped up on the other side, eager for the next fence. Lucy must have taken my advice for she half halted him back to a slower canter, barely faster than a collected dressage canter. He tugged at the bit slightly, fighting to go faster, but relaxed as they approached the second fence, clearing it with ease.

They continued forward like this, Bugs occasionally fighting Lucy between jumps, but giving in to her when faced with each fence. They cleared the double with no problems, two perfect strides. As they turned the corner towards the wall fence, Bugs’ hind legs slipped out beneath him.

“Uh oh,” Steve murmured.

My heart skipped a beat.

But he picked himself up and continued forward.

I held my breath as they approached the wall fence. Lucy sat back defensively. “Ride him forward Lucy!” I hissed quietly.

Bugs lowered his head, staring wide-eyed at the wall as he found himself being driven towards it. He started to back off, slowing his pace.

But Lucy felt it.

She closed her legs and urged him forward with her seat. He responded, and then it was too late for him to stop. He had to go over. He appeared to panic for a moment, switching his canter lead right before take-off. He plunged high into the air but Lucy was prepared and sat the leap well. He wasn’t touching that wall!

“Yes!” I cheered under my breath.

Bugs landed in a disunited canter. With no time to correct it, they were facing the last fence. Unbalanced, Bugs slipped going into the fence, nearly landing face first. I knew he was going to take a rail. The odds were not in his favour this time.

But no. To my amazement, Bugs twisted his body and scraped over the fence, the rail still intact.

“Wow! He’s such an honest horse!” I exclaimed to Steve.

“She did well staying on that one!” Steve laughed. “Look, she’s lost one of her stirrups!”

I hadn’t realized. Lucy corrected herself just in time for the second bell. She increased her speed only slightly for a safe and tidy jump-off.

She trotted over, a huge grin on her face. “He was amazing!” she exclaimed happily. She dismounted and wrapped both arms around his neck.

“You were both amazing!” I corrected her.

“Well done champ!” Steve congratulated her, patting Bugs’ sweaty neck.

“I want to do it again!” Lucy exclaimed excitedly.

Steve looked at me and rolled his eyes. He turned back to Lucy. “Before you weren’t sure you wanted to do it even the one time!”

“I know… But I feel differently now,” she replied, poking out her tongue. “I’m going to take Bugs back to the float. Are you going to get Gypsy now?”

“I might as well. After your class there’s only five riders in 1.15 metres and six in 1.25 metres- Although I am last on,” I replied. “I thought there would be more riders.”

“One of the judges said a few riders have pulled out due to weather conditions,” Steve told me. “They are probably smart,” he added chuckling. His face turned grim. “We’re lucky it hasn’t rained again for a bit, because the ground is bad enough without it.”

Chapter Six

Finally, the 1.15 metres class came to an end. My family had arrived to watch my round, and I had bridled and mounted Gypsy, who felt sluggish beneath me. “Come on girl! Wake up!” I laughed. I gently asked Gypsy to soften at the poll, and popped her into a trot. She did as she was told; slowly. Usually she was a forward moving ride before showjumping, excited for what lay ahead.

I decided she must have spent too long standing around; or perhaps the weather was putting her off. Using more leg than usually necessary, I collected her up a bit more and asked for a canter.

She obliged. But she felt different.

Gypsy cantered like the Western horse she was bred to be. Asking to stretch forward and down, she cantered ever so slowly, her gait flatter than usual. The warm up area was churned up like the showjumping ring, and I wondered if she was simply being cautious to balance herself.

I pointed her at one of the warm-up fences; a simple straight bar. To my relief, she picked up impulsion at the sight of the fence. Her ears pricked forward. She took off nicely but stumbled on landing and I near face-planted on her neck, grasping her mane. I’d left out a small piece of Gypsy’s mane. I often held onto it for extra balance over fences when required. It was a good way to ensure I didn’t accidentally pull on her sensitive mouth.

“Larissa is in now!” Lucy came running over to me. “You’re next!” she hopped from one foot to the other. She acted like her horse as much as she looked like him. Either excitable and happy, or stressed and anxious, depending on the situation. Sometimes hanging out with Lucy was like hanging out with two different people.

Disappointed to be entering my round on a bad note, I slowly followed Lucy.

Larissa had gone clear and was starting her jump-off round. Her new horse was definitely impressive to watch. He had an enormous canter and a jumping technique to die for. Larissa however, always under pressure to win, was too focused on speed. Her horse slid on his feet a few times, but expertly re-gathered himself, until