It is time to reflect. I'm going backwards now to move forward, back to the point in Twilight's story where I left off to try and connected the experiences I write about now to the missing pieces I jumped over.
Good luck is a temperamental door, dangling some where between the subconscious and fate. I can picture it as a rusted metal door, hanging in a black room with no floor or ceiling and walls of shadows blocking the way.
My good luck ended abruptly, the rusted door slammed on my face leaving me alone and bemused.
It is fair to say that at this point Twilight and I were. . .working together. I was having a hard time connecting with her, but I enjoyed spending time with her.
It had been easier with Adam and Sting, I remember feeding Adam sunflowers, picking them myself the gooey sap making my fingers stick together, and the way Adam's face, the dark amber eyes and small round ears would perk at the sight of me walking into Bishops with the heavy flower head bobbing agreeably with ever step I took. The crunch of the stems in his teeth.
Unlike Adam, I didn't know if Twilight had a favorite treat, I would feed her and Mateo apple treats, but I have yet to meet a horse who didn't enjoy apple treats. I could not see anything special in Twilight at the time, she didn't like to be brushed, and was happiest when their was space between us.
We were both scared creatures at the time, not nearly as feral as we had once been, we'd both let some of our anger dry up but we still couldn't connect.
Gretchen and Risa tried to convince me of Twilight's potential her hidden worth. They eagerly told me of a hot summer day when they had taken Penelope, Carita, Twilight, and Lacaro up to the arena to free run.
The arena is surrounded by an electric fence three white strips of snapping electric ribbon. Inside the arena at the far end is a round pen that is just a tad to small. In order to prevent horses from going into the narrow cranny between the fencing of the round pen and the electric fence Gretchen had placed bars of wood between the two fences.
It was early in the morning when Gretchen and Risa led the horses up, the sun had already started to bake the sand, but a cool breeze was winding its way down the mountain and exciting the horses, tickling their noses with foreign wild scents and tangling their manes against their necks.
Risa and Gretchen released the horses and they were off in their own race around the arena kicking up their heels, squealing shrilly at each other, arching into large bucks and twist, acting like foolish colts and fillies. They cantered, then galloped, then went into full sprints elongated spraying sand with their sharp turns on the verge of being out of control. Carita and Twilight were running neck and neck down the long side of the arena towards the round corral neither showing signs of slowing down, Lacaro and Adam were following slightly behind. I can see it in my mind, the two mares goading each other to go faster to try and beat the other, neither ready to slow as they approached the pen. Carita was to the outside so she had plenty of room to turn. but Twilight was trapped with Carita to her left and the two gelding pounding away behind her, she had no time to slow for the turn, nor the room. She had one choice left to jump.
Twilight leaped the guard rails Gretchen had put up, cleared them in an effortless jump fulled by adrenaline and her momentum. It would have been a beautiful sight, till reality crashed back down. Twilight was now trapped, pinned between the round pen and the electric fence, which had started shocking her shortly after she landed. She had no room to move away, she could do nothing as the fence snapped and sparked at her withers. She shied away, but amazingly she didn't panic. The horse who could not tolerate being tied to anything solid, who balked at fly spray stayed meekly pressed against the fence till Gretchen and Risa could come set her free. Or that is what they told me.
But it didn't matter, when I looked at that horse I could not see any brilliance within, I could only see the dusty, worn black bay coat that Twilight didn't want me to touch. I wanted to be done, there had been no break through, only small flecks of dumb good luck that had allowed me to have some good moments with this horse.
I could feel pressure beginning to build, something was going to have to change, or something was about to change.
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