Jack

Chapter One:

Jack was a small black pony, only 13.3hh with a short face and stocky little legs. His eyes were a dark brown and his hooves seemed a bit small for his body. He did not have any white socks, but he had a white “star” on his forehead. Jack was normally quiet, but when he was spooked he often squealed. He was not strong enough to buck, but he could rear. In his past years he had worked as a dressage pony and as a trail pony. He had hated the trails. Rider after rider would get on and ride him poorly, each with one annoying habit or another. Each day had been the same: get tacked up, stand still for two hours while tied up, get an irritating tourist up on your back, follow the horse in front of you down the trail, turn around, go back to the barn and get rid of the rider. All this had changed when Jessica had gotten on.

Jessica was just a girl, only sixteen. She was trail riding with her friends and she picked out the small black pony for her mount. She had immediately fallen in love with him. After the ride she asked the owner if he was for sale. Luckily he was, and she brought him home. Upon arriving he had gotten a bath, clipping, and a nice indoor stall. She’d rescued him from life on a trail. Of course, he’d needed training after being a trail horse for three and a half years. Jessica had hired a trainer for him who worked with him every morning for a couple of months. He learned barn “manners” and his dressage skills were renewed a bit. After that, Jessica had begun riding him on daily rides through the forest that skirted town.

Jack loved Jessica. She never pulled hard on his mouth with the bit and seemed to always stay balanced. The pony loved trotting through the forest with her on his back. He wanted nothing more than the love of the girl and, of course, carrots. He absolutely loved carrots.

Jessica’s dog, Yap, was a loud chihuahua who constantly nipped at Jack’s hooves when he ran. The pony wanted to kick the dog and be rid of it, but Jessica never let it get that far. She’d always pick the dog up and let it ride on the back of her saddle, which Jack hated. Fortunately for him, Yap jumped off immediately when placed on the back of a cantering pony.

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Jack shifted in his stall. The morning sun was beginning to peek over the hills to the east. The small, two-stall “barn” was just barely light enough for the pony to see, but he could make out the tall stacks of hay in across the aisle. The smell of the hay filled his nostrils and he could hear a bird outside his stall window. It rustled in the brush, then broke out in song. The pony sighed; he was relaxed. He stood entirely still for a minute, waiting for the sun to break over the horizon and show itself. The door of the stable squeaked and the black pony jumped. He pinned his ears at the intruder: Jessica’s dog, Yap. The dog barked at him. He seemed to want to ruin Jack’s morning. The pony ducked his head through the opening in his stall and tried to bit the troublesome dog. Yap was too agile and ran away from the chomping teeth. Finally the sun rose over the hill and Jack turned to stare at it.

Later that morning Jessica came into the barn. She went into Jack’s stall and began brushing him. He liked the feel of the brush smoothing his coat. He stood still while Jessica gently brushed his back and belly. When she was done, she tacked Jack and led him out of the barn.

The pony followed his rider outside. He felt the sun shining on his back and a gentle, cool wind from the ocean. He had never seen the ocean before, but he could smell it on the wind. The small black pony was led to the arena, then to the mounting block. Jessica, who was only four feet and eleven inches tall but full grown, mounted up. She took her reins in one hand and pet Jack’s withers before asking him to move forward. When she did, it was a light tap on his sides. The pony walked forward and stretched out his neck. They walked around the arena once before trotting. Jessica asked Jack to pick up a trot with a light tap of her heels and a cluck. The pony happily picked up a trot and waited for Jessica’s next signal. She began posting but didn’t ask Jack to do anything else, so he eased into the trot and waited. After a few minutes Jessica made the horse change directions at the trot, then pick up a canter. Jack felt her lengthen the reins a little and give him a kick. He rearranged his feet and picked up a gentle, rocking-horse like canter. After a few minutes of cantering, Jessica halted the black pony in the center of the arena and asked him to Levade, or rear on purpose. Jack backed up a few steps, then ducked his head towards his chest and pushed himself off the ground with his front hooves. He held the position for a few seconds before gently placing himself back on the ground. He had practiced this move for years, and it was definitely Jessica’s favorite. He loved to do it too, but he was always sore in the morning if Jessica made him hold the stance for too long.

After their morning ride, Jack waited again in his stall. Now the sun was high up in the sky and the barn door was wide open, letting in the warm sunshine and gentle breeze. Yap and Jessica were nowhere to be seen. The pony took a deep breath and exhaled slowly. His long mane was keeping heat on his neck and he didn’t like it one bit. He knelt down onto his knees, then dropped to the ground and rolled in the muck that covered the floor of his stall. When he heaved himself up he was covered in a “fine coat if dirt” as Jessica would say. Jack poked his head over the top of his stall and whinnied to the lonesome, four-horse stall that only held one small black pony. He listened to the echo until it faded away into nothing. Suddenly, a shrill whinny filled the air. Jack jumped away from the sound, but slammed his bulk into the metal wall of his stall. This startled him even more, and he fell over while trying to get away from the wall. He hurriedly pulled himself up, then stood, though spooked, silently in his stall. The whites of the pony's eyes showed all the way around and his ears were standing straight up, waiting for any sign of another pony. He heard the familiar sound of Jessica’s truck pulling up behind the barn, but this didn’t settle him. He picked up a slight scent of a mare blowing in from behind the barn. The pony turned to look out of his small window, and was started by what he saw.

Jessica’s trailer held a small paint pony. Her mane and tail were a light, sandy brown color. She had many small patches of brown that seemed to be covering her white coat. She looked to be an Arabian-Welsh cross. Her face was short like a pony’s yet skinny like an Arabian’s. At the ends of her stocky legs were small hooves. The pony’s tail was long and nearly swept across the ground. Her eyes appeared to be happy at first glance, but they hid a dark sadness just beneath the surface. Jack wanted to comfort her. He stepped closer to the window and tried to poke his nose through the metal bars. The pony had not yet seen him. She followed Jessica out of the beaten up trailer and walked reluctantly to the barn. Jack made an effort to hide in the back of his stall, but he heard Jessica’s voice talking softly to the new pony. Jack went to the front of his stall and peaked over the stall door. Now he could see the new pony more clearly.

Why is she here? He wondered. When she saw him she slowed her pace. Jessica, forgetting about Jack, tugged the lead rope and led her into the stall on the opposite side from Jack. She took the new mare’s halter off and gave her a bale of hay, then left the barn and began speaking to another woman.

“Hello?” Jack said hesitantly. The other pony peeked her head over her stall door.

“H-hi.” She said. She was a little bigger than Jack and it was easier for her to get her head over the door. Jack tried not to look threatening.

“I’m J-Jack. What’s your name?” Jack’s voice shook a little when he spoke, but he didn’t know why he was so nervous. It had only been four years since the last time another horse had been in the barn with him, and that horse had been his own half-brother.

“My name is Patches.” the pony paused, “How did you get here?” Patches asked. Jack’s mind went blank. He remembered the trail he’d followed every day and he remembered how nervous he’d been when he first came to live with Jessica.

“I was a trail horse. Jessica bought me from that place though and brought me here. Before that I was a dressage pony.” Jack was beginning to feel less nervous.

“Oh. Dressage?”

“It’s like horse dancing. You have to lean strange gaits and learn to levede and capriole. How about you?”

“I am a lesson pony. I teach kids to jump and then they move on to jump the bigger horses. Have you ever jumped?” Patches angled her ears toward Jack and looked him right in the eye.

She thinks she’s better than me. He thought. He pinned his ears.

“No, I have not. I prefer to keep my hooves on the ground.” Jack said in a satisfied tone. He began to wish he had jumped before, but he didn’t want to let Patches know it. The small black pony turned around and looked out his window at Jessica. She was still talking to the other woman. Jack heard bits of their conversation.

“Yes, yes. I was thinking of selling him... police force.”

“He looks well suited… small”

“Well… baby arrives… extra cash.”

“Congratulations!... baby”

“... Patches… young girl…”

Jack tensed up at the word baby. He knew that word. It meant a tiny human that did nothing but cry, pull tails, and get pictures taken. Jack had noticed a shiny gold ring on Jessica’s hand recently, but he’d thought nothing of it. There had been a strange man that smelled of warm cheese hanging around the barn, and Jack thought he was a barn hand or a groom. But this man went everywhere with Jessica, even inside the house. Jack began to wonder what was happening.

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The next morning Jack woke up to the sound of Patches munching on fresh hay. She was wearing a new light pink halter. Jack poked his head over his stall door to get a better look. No sooner had he gotten his head out than Jessica walked out of the tack room carrying a his saddle and a girth that was bigger than his. Jessica walked over to Patches’ stall and unlatched the door. Jack noticed that her belly looked to be swelled up. Patches looked across the aisle.

“Good morning, Blackie.”

“It’s Jack, not Blackie.”

“You told me Blackie yesterday.”

“I didn’t and it’s Jack.” The jet black pony turned to his own hay and began munching. He didn’t listen to Jessica talking to Patches. When he lifted his head up to see them they were gone. Jack waited for a minute with his ears pricked forward. He heard nothing. The pony decided to go back to sleep.

Four weeks passed and every morning Jessica rode Patches and left Jack in the pasture. He liked the pasture, but hated that he could see Jessica in the arena training Patches dressage gaits. One Monday afternoon a man in  a dark outfit with a gun on his hip came walking towards Jack with Jessica following close behind.

Jack wondered who this man could be. He was tall with a bald head. As he neared the pasture gate Jessica grabbed Jack’s halter and climbed over the fence. She came to the small black pony and forced the halter over his nose. The man gave Jack a disapproving look.

“How does he ride, Miss?” the man asked

“He’s great. He used to be a dressage pony, but I have to get rid of him.”

“May I ask why you would like to sell him?”

“My husband and I have a baby on the way. I bought a new, female pony. The baby’s a girl”

The police man watched Jack’s hooves as he followed Jessica out of the pasture.

“Has he ever jumped?”

“I don’t think so. I bought him from a trail riding barn.”

“Can he be trained?”

“Yes, he’s very smart.” Jessica halted Jack and closed the gate. He tried desperately to look presentable to the man.

“Might I lead him?” The man asked in a harsh tone.

“Of course.” Jessica handed the lead rope to the officer. Jack didn’t like this man, yet he felt a deep connection to him through expectations. The pony knew that this man expected a lot from him, and he felt wanted. He held his head high up and placed his hooves steadily on the ground as he walked. The police officer held the halter firmly but with a touch of softness. Jack followed him into the barn.

Jessica handed the police officer his saddle and pads and bridle. The man took it and slammed the saddle into Jack’s back. He didn’t like that, but he let the officer shove the bridle into his mouth. The man was very efficient with all the straps of the tack. Jessica stood quietly by the door of the tack room.

“What will he do in the police force if you buy him?” she inquired.

“Well, we’ll have to train him to jump. There’s a short officer who needs a horse.”

“Oh.”

The police officer led Jack out of the barn and found the roundpen. He walked the pony into the center of it and began to tighten the girth.

“Is he cinchy?” the man asked Jessica.

“Nope. He likes to start walking when you get on, though.”

The man mounted up and kicked Jack immediately. The weight and sudden kick made Jack feel unsteady, and he tried to step to the side to regain his balance. As soon as he stepped over the policeman gave him a hard kick in the right side and the pony stood still.

It was, of course, a strange sight. The pony was only thirteen hands high and the police officer was five foot eleven. The officer was a good rider: strong enough that the horse could do what was asked of it with the freedom to move. He let the pony walk forward, but kept him in line. When it was finally time to canter the officer let Jck have his head but kept the reins just short enough that when Jack began to lift his head the officer could force it back down. When the man dismounted he told Jessica he’d take the pony and handed her the cash.

After the ride, Jack didn’t know what was going on. The police man untacked him and gave the tack back to Jessica, then led him to a small, two-horse trailer attached to a black pickup with white lettering and lights on the top. Jack saw the rump of a roan horse in the right side of the trailer. He snorted and looked back at the barn, but realized it was too late. Jessica was gone and he would have to go with the roan and police officer. Jack looked forward. He focused on the left side of the trailer. When the police officer opened the door he stepped in, lightly. The roan was a big gelding with strong legs good for kicking. Jack felt small compared to the larger mount, but pretended not to notice him. He heard the truck start and felt the trailer begin to roll down the gravel driveway. It shifted onto the paved road, then turned right. There was no going back now.

Once on the road Jack began to wonder where they were going. Was it the slaughterhouse? Or maybe to the man’s house? Maybe they were going to a riding school. Jack’s thoughts were interrupted by the roan.

“ ‘Ey, kid. Where ‘re we goin’?” Jack had some trouble understanding his dialect at first, but was able to answer relatively quickly.

“I don’t know. I hope it’s not the slaughterhouse, though.” He peered around the divider to see the roan’s face. He looked young and vibrant, but a flash of sadness was visible behind his alert ears and perky eyes. Jack wondered what had happened to him.

“What’cha talkin’ about? I ain’t on my way to get killed! Me great grandpappy was in th’ war.”

“Really? Which one?” Jack wanted to know about wars.

“Th’ darn secon’ world one, with all the Germ’ns.” The gelding shifted his weight onto his left side. “How’s ‘bout you?”

“What about me?” Jack was getting nervous.

“You ever been in bat’le”

“No. I was a dressage pony. Where do you think we’re going?”

“I thinks we goin’ to the war. All them fancy lights and fancy uniforms.”

“I think we’re going to the police force.” The pony wished he could get away. This horse was crazy.