Breaking point

Well into summer Gretchen suggested that I sign up for an all day horse camp she was having for two other girls around my age who were as addicted to horse back riding as I was. I was apprehensive, after my battle with Kenzie I was not sure I wanted a competition with two other girls. However I signed up anyway and met the girls. There was Sarah a year older than me and absolutely fearless on a horses back, and Katara two years younger than me, who enjoyed bragging about her horse back riding mother. Needless to say we all got along perfectly.
I remember the day we had a costume ride and we all dressed up in my mother's old prom gowns. We cantered about the arena screaming shrilly with joy and a teenage silliness while bantering with delightfully exaggerated English accents. We all decided to trying riding side saddle like proper ladies of the high court. I fell off after maybe a minute of riding sideways, my dress pooled up and above my head, I was very lucky to be wearing pants underneath. . .otherwise everyone might have seen my bloomers!
Our hysterical antics knew no ends. We soon found out that there was a canal behind the barn, a fast moving green ribbon of water with long strands of red vines on the sides and thick white sand on the bottom. A canopy of trees stretched out and over the sides their roots exposed like long wrinkled fingers intertwined with each other as if patiently waiting for something that would never come. We also discovered a long neglected rope swing which we could use to swing above the shallow sides and drop into the depths of the middle current. We would swim for hours daring each other to float further down the canal each time. Our fun was so boisterous and loud that Gretchen even tried out the swing and caused Derek the water coward to wander in to the water up to his large knobby ankles to rescue her from the canal. She was fine of course.
 It was during this time that I first learned the wonder of jumping. Sarah was the first to ride and she and Sting flew gracefully over the poles, in a fluid motion. I was on Ali and ready to go, and prove myself as a good ride who was not afraid of anything. Miss Ali did not share my enthusiasm. Countless times she swerved away from the jump dragging my hands through the reins till they felt raw. I became extremely frustrated to the point of tears, finally I dismounted and left Ali to Katara. I scrambled to the top of the fence and watched Sarah trotting Sting over the pole again and again, like a broken video replaying over and over in my mind. It felt like the end of the world, I was heartbroken, I could not make a horse jump, a horse I had worked with for over two years. Inconsolable I went through my plan in my head. Obviously I was unfit to ride, never meant to really accomplish anything in the world of horses. This was my last day here, my last ride was a failure why bother trying again? The heat of the summer sun beat hard upon my back making sweat drip down my back as tears slipped of my face. I had reached the breaking point.
Gretchen snapped me out of my gloomy mood. "Gabbi" she said, "Miss Ali can be stubborn, you should take Sting for a go."
Wary of failure I half heatedly dragged myself over to Sting and clamoured up into the saddle. I turned him around and began trotting him towards the poles, he did not jump. Rather he lifted his feet up a little higher than usual and pranced over the poles. "Try again." Gretchen said firmly. I took Sting around again a small tingle of hope and desire rising up from my toes to the tip of my head. I urged Sting forward into a slightly faster trot and just before we reached the poles I clucked and tapped his sides with my heels. The power of a horse gathering himself and going airborne is marvelous. I can not explain it, it is the closes any human will ever come to knowing the true feeling of flight. The world goes silent when a horse jumps, there is no sight or sound to guide you only feel, the feel of going up the muscles collecting and extending into a leap the sudden rush of air. Your heart pulses once and then the spell is broken sight and sound come back with shattering clarity. I felt a smile wide and childlike spread across my face. "YES!" I screamed in jubilation. From then on Sting was my horse.
When it came time for me to learn the art of cantering, Sting was the horse I learned on. It was difficult and frustrating, but once it was accomplished I could jump into the air and know the feeling of riding on clouds. Cantering is like a  formal dance, it is a three time beat, smooth and collected but at the same instant it is fast and strong. Sting was the first horse I cantered on bareback. In his pasture over the freshly turned dirt we rode, me cling for dear life till he moved from his bouncing trout into a effortless waltz. Sting gave me back my confidence in riding. He was also the horse to shatter my joy in flying. My mother had come to watch me jump, and I was excited, granted I was only jumping about a foot and a half of pole, but it was a rush. We had warmed up and I was urging Sting for the jump when something went wrong, suddenly I was propelled forward and riding on Stings neck instead of the saddle and he was not cantering he was running, full and and wild. I had no control as we swung around the corner galloping for the other fence, I could only cling tighter as we swerved around another corner and began bearing down the long stretch of the arena. I wrapped my arms higher around his neck and began to pull back, he listened to my firm but shaking arms and slowed to a halt. Gretchen's face was pure white, ashen her eyes wide. My mother was speechless. "That was scary" Gretchen said quietly. Jump never occurred again in our lessons together. I was shaken up, but determined to continue riding, I could let go of jumping but I could not let go of the freedom of riding.
    It finally happened, I could not contain my joy. I had for the millionth time brought up the idea of leasing a horse to my parents, and they were actually considering it. They did not try to brush the idea away saying I was to young or just not ready for the next step. They began asking me questions about it where would we find the horse? How much would it cost? What was leasing verses buying? I had all the answers ready. I wanted Sting, he was the only horse I would consider, the cost was the cost of owning a horse without buying. I loved that little half Morgan, he was intelligent, handsome, and a true gentleman, much better than any boy in school. I was in love and was even wedging in the idea of buying him into the minds of my parents.
  Fate is a funny creature, she favors for a while and then one day on the flip of a dime she changes for the worse, like a storm at sea. It can be glassy calm on moment and a brief instant later a maelstrom is baring down with full gusting force. Sting, my beloved horse was injured, an unexplainable occurrence, a wound straight through the flesh of his face barely missing an eye. He could not be ridden. Gretchen could not afford to keep him. He needed care and rest, and she needed a working horse. Her heart was to large to push his recovery. She called up his previous owner a woman in California who was thrilled to take him back. I did not even get the chance to say goodbye.
  Change blew in again with a rush. A dark change, Gretchen had to give up her ownership of Ali, and suddenly we had to leave the beautiful paradise in the middle of an urban maze. I was sorry to leave, and wondering yet again where we would go, and who I would ride? My prince and friend was gone, the little mare torn away, neither to return. Gretchen needed to become a magician and pull an entirely new life, barn and horses out of her hat.