Short Stories

China Takeover

The smell of smoke filled the air, American guns shot the Chinese; many men fell. An American general had not yet come off the ship. Now he waited inside its safe walls. He trod to his horse’s stall. Spade was a large, skinny gelding who was currently standing in the back of his stall scraping the ground with his hoof. He had an almost black, dark bay coat and not much mane. He kicked groomers and bucked and shyed in battle, but the general had never fallen from his high Arabian back. The man grabbed his saddle and pad from the wooden stall wall and opened the stall door. Spade lifted his head and shook his mane. He was restless and wanted to get out. He wanted to run into the fight. Suddenly he felt a saddle pad fly over his back and then a heavy saddle fell on top of the pad. He lifted his head and gave a long whinny to the other horses. He was coming! The man reached under Spade’s belly and grabbed the girth, which he began to tighten. Spade drew in a deep breath and waited for the man to relent. Once he thought there was no chance of the saddle falling off he went to the front of the stall and took a bridle off the hook. Spade let out the air in his chest and the saddle became loose. He relaxed as the general walked up to him and held the bridle up to his face. At the last second the dark bay Arabian threw up his head and avoided the bridle. His rider squeezed his poll and the horse was forced to drop his head. He let the bit slip into his mouth and stood still while his rider tightened the straps and buckles, then began chewing the bit. After believing that he would not be constricted by the saddle he did not expect the general to tighten the girth. Spade jumped and skittishly stepped sideways, but the man had a hold on the reins and kept him under control.

A minute later the spirited horse emerged from the ship. His eyes burned with excitement and reflected the fire and smoke in the cruel atmosphere. Sparks flew in his face and hit his thick, dirty coat. He pricked his small ears forward and focused on a small Chinese boy standing in front of him. The boy reached out to pet him, but suddenly he heard a gunshot coming from his left side and ran to the right, almost slipping off the ramp. The horse turned around but the boy was gone.

“Sir, where’ll I hide him?!” A small, frail man yelled to Spade’s rider.

“You’ll leave ‘im be, go back and get yo’self a drink. Ya look li’ you’re half dead!” The man led Spade down the wood ramp and put his foot into one of the stirrups. He grabbed a handful of Spade’s mane and climbed on. Spade sighed and began to walk. The man give him a good kick and he was off like a bullet.

Spade cantered through the battlefield while his rider yelled orders. As he began to tire the man pushed him faster. He eventually gave up and broke to a trot. The man on his back let him, but only for a brief time before he forced him back into the canter and made him jump a tall fence. The horse thought it was just for torture, but realized he was wrong when he arrived at a small house. His rider dismounted and went inside, leaving Spade with a small boy to put him in a stall.

The big horse followed the boy as he led him toward a shed. He liked this boy and trotted behind him. The horse was safe here.

Eric Dergquist

Eric Dergquist was a queer man. He had, perhaps, missed his childhood as it passed by, or maybe he’d never had any fun. An example of this would be his favorite color: transparent. He was perfectly sane, though he lived alone in a large, empty house among the rolling hills of California. Nearby, there was a small farm with a few horses and some cows and chickens. Eric had never thought much of them, he only drove past them each morning on his way to work. He made good money, though he had nothing to spend it on, and his house remained empty. The house, however, was clean, if not for a bit of dust here and there. A large kitchen filled the back of the house, bearing only a few cards and magnets on the refrigerator. The granite countertops sat empty, collecting dust. One used dish sat in the dishwasher.

On Monday morning Eric woke up to the irritating buzz of his alarm. He wandered into the bathroom, showered and put on a collared shirt and a pair of worn blue jeans. He walked in his socks through the large white hallway, scanning the floor for his shoes. He found them next to the floor near the door to his exercise room. Eric hastily tied his shoelaces and picked up a brown briefcase. The man headed out to the garage, where his small, blue Honda was parked near a white bike. He climbed inside, started the engine and backed up without looking backward, for he knew there was nothing there.

Eric noticed a white pickup with a horse trailer on his street as he pulled out of his driveway. He glanced at it once, seeing only a small chestnut with a thick coat. He thought nothing of it and drove to the train station. From there, he would ride the train to work, and after work he would ride it back to his car and drive home.

After work, Eric came home and went back inside his house. The cool air of the house blew into the garage as he opened the door, though it did not stir the dark, gelled and parted hair on his head. The man walked quietly into his bedroom, the only room in the house that looked used, thinking of how much he disliked his new boss. He sat down on the TempurPedic bed, kicked off his shoes and threw his socks on the floor.

Tuesday was the same as Monday, and Wednesday the same as Tuesday, and Thursday and Friday just alike. Saturday Eric did nothing, and Sunday night he went to dinner with another person from work. Monday morning he got up and got ready, but when he glanced out the window there was a small chestnut-red horse standing about ten yards from the house. It had a puffy mane and long red coat, and its large eyes seemed to be daring Eric to move. Stupid horse, he thought. He walked away and got in his car.

On Tuesday Eric did not notice the horse, but it watched through his bedroom window until he left, then it galloped alongside the road when he drove away.

Wednesday morning Eric woke up facing the window. When he opened his eyes he expected to see the empty grass blowing in the wind, but instead his eyes were immediately drawn to a red horse standing about twenty-five feet from his window. Eric began to become concerned, for the horse was watching him. He hurriedly got ready, trying not to stand in front of the window for fear of the horse watching him. He drove out of his garage and noticed the red horse standing on the road. When he saw the car driving towards him he trotted off the road and began eating the dry grass. Eric sped to work, a strange, imaginary instinct telling him to get away from the irritating horse that was taunting him.

When Eric came home he parked inside the garage and immediately closed the large paneled garage door. He looked out the window, watching carefully for the small red horse. Seeing nothing, he walked inside and flipped on the large flat screen TV in his bedroom.

It was several hours later that Eric noticed the horse again. This time, he was standing about twenty feet away from the house, and he looked less shy. Eric shut the blinds on the window and turned back to the television. Outside, the small red horse trotted home to get dinner. He lived down the road in a large paddock, where there was a broken spot in the fence and he could jump out. Nothing went on there, only the occasional ride that his owner took on another horse. Later that evening he walked back to Eric’s house.

Eric was fast asleep, the clock showing 11:52 pm, but the daring horse walked up his driveway. He left footprints as he walked, and after a few minutes of looking and listening he dropped his head and began to graze on Eric’s lawn.

In the morning, Eric opened the blinds on his window to see that the horse was gone. Good riddance, he thought. The man took a shower and walked outside to see what the weather was like. It felt cool and humid, and the man suspected rain. Nevertheless, he put on his worn blue jeans and drove off to the train station, barely noticing the short grass in front of his house.

That afternoon Eric saw the horse again. It watched him from about fifteen feet away; this made Eric uncomfortable. He was afraid the horse would run at him like a bull, so he quickly went inside.

Friday morning the horse was ten feet away from Eric’s window. The man became uncomfortable, so he opened the window and leaned outside, yelling nonsense and flapping his arms. The chestnut horse tossed his head and began to run and buck. Eric slammed the window shut and got ready to leave.

When Eric pulled out of the garage he noticed that his grass had been chomped. He suspected the horse had eaten it, and he began to detest this horse. That evening it stood five feet from the window, and Saturday morning he was so close that Eric could have reached out and pet him if he opened the window. Of course, he did nothing of the sort, believing that the horse was taunting him and would surely bite him if he dared pet it.

That  evening Eric went to the store. He got home with two large paper bags overflowing with groceries. He parked in front of the house and walked to the front door, both bags in his arms. The man set down one of the bags and unlocked the door with his free hand, walking inside and leaving the door open. Unfortunately, the bag he had set down had a smaller bag of apples inside, and the small chestnut horse walked right up and ate them. To do this he tore the bag open with his hoof and stuck his muzzle inside, pulling out the bag of apples with his teeth. He crushed the fresh strawberries and a box of Muscle Milk exploded when he stepped on it, but he persevered in taking the apples. He walked around the side of the house and set the bag down next to Eric’s bedroom window, where he began munching on the juicy treats.

When Eric came back to the front door he was dismayed. He carried the food that was intact inside and returned only to pick up the trash.

On Sunday Eric went to the gym for three hours, and when he returned he knew the chestnut horse was cantering alongside his car, for he could hear his hooves clopping on the pavement. He parked his car inside the garage and went inside, forgetting to close the large garage door and the small wooden door that led to the house.

While Eric was in the shower, the red horse found his way through the garage in inside the house! He walked through the long hallway that went through the building, knocking into the walls on either side. Had there been anything to break, he would have broken it, but there wasn’t. The horse relieved himself in the kitchen, then pricked his ears toward the bedroom. He walked right through the room and into the bathroom, where Eric was putting on a black T-shirt in front of the mirror. The man was so surprised to see a horse in his house that he shrieked like a girl. He ran after the horse, and it trotted away, though it didn’t know how to get out. Finally Eric opened the large sliding glass door off the kitchen and the horse ran out. Eric turned around to see that there was a pile of waste on the floor. The kitchen smelled wretched, so the man sighed and began to scoop up the waste in a dust pan. He put it outside and opened up his computer.

Eric searched “How to make a horse leave you alone” on the internet, but it was no use. Finally he decided to go over to the neighbor’s house and tell them to keep their horse to themselves.

Eric walked outside and began to walk down the road, noticing all too soon that the horse was following about ten feet behind him. When he arrived at the house, Eric rung the doorbell. A short woman with red hair answered it.

“Is this your horse?”

“Yes! Where has he been? Did you detain him?”

“Chhh, no.” Eric answered. The woman forced a halter onto the horse’s nose and walked him back to the paddock.

“Don’t put him there, he’ll jump out and irritate me more!” Eric said in an annoyed, drawn out tone. He motioned toward the broken part of the gate. The woman looked at it, then put the horse in a stall.

“I’m very sorry that he escaped, sir.” she said. Eric said nothing, but walked home quickly. The horse watched him until he could no longer see him over the tall grass and the hill. And a phobia of horses followed Eric the rest of his days.


Broken

Cara was a seventeen year old girl attending high school. She lived in her parents house in New York near the Belmont racetrack. The house had a long dirt road with a beautiful mansion at the end of it. On the sides of the dirt road were lush, green pastures containing some of the finest thoroughbreds in America. Cara’s dad, Richard Smith, was a millionaire. He had the biggest name in the racing world besides August Belmont. Although Cara was a bit spoiled, she felt that her dad didn’t love her. It had been different when she was little; they’d been poor. Her father saved up all his money to buy a racehorse. When he bought Flintstone, everything had changed. Flinty won many races, and even won the Triple Crown. Of course, Flinty was now far too old to race. As the family had become richer, Mr. Smith bought more horses. He really knew how to train them to be fast.

✧

Cara stormed in the front door and threw her backpack onto the marble floor. She was furious. Her dad had left the pasture gate open and Stargazer had escaped. Cara ran up the stairs to her room and closed the door. A minute later she emerged dressed in a white tank top, breeches and field boots. Her long brown hair was tied back into a ponytail. The girl began walking down the elegant hallway. A maid stopped her in her tracks to question her.

“Where might you be headed, Miss?”

“Stargazer got out. I’m going to get her.” she replied in an annoyed tone. The maid sighed and turned back to the picture frame on the wall, spray bottle and rag in hand. Cara sped away. She heard the maid start talking to another maid as she turned the corner to the stairs.

“That girl sure is growing up fast, isn’t she?” Cara plugged her ears and ran down the stairs.

As soon as she got out the front door she stopped. The girl scanned the pastures. She saw that only the fillies’ gate was open. She pointed her finger and counted the fillies. Four; only Stargazer had escaped. She saw that another filly was walking quickly towards the open gate. It was a grey horse with a dark grey main and dapples on her rump and belly. As the horse neared the opening, Cara began walking toward it, then broke to a run. She sprinted to the gate. As soon as the grey saw her it wheeled around and trotted in the opposite direction. Cara latched the gate. The other fillies in the pasture hadn’t yet started training, she knew, but Stargazer had won the Kentucky Derby and come out second in the Preakness.

Cara jogged to her truck. Its red paint was dirty and the passenger-side window was broken, but it ran well and was good for a first car. She opened the door and climbed inside, immediately slamming it behind her so Dot, the barn cat, wouldn’t jump in. The girl started her truck and drove toward the long driveway. She figured a loose filly would head to a wide open space, and with pastures on both sides, the long dirt driveway was the perfect place.

The dirty red truck rolled slowly down the Smith’s driveway. Inside, Cara looked for a tall grullo filly with a wild look in her eyes and quick gaits. Finally she spotted the filly. Stargazer was standing on the right side of the driveway with her head over the fence to the fillies’ pasture. She turned around when she heard the truck, then bolted back toward the Smith’s mansion. Cara sighed. She drove to the end of the driveway and got out to shut the big, stainless steel gate. Then she got back in her truck and drove back to the house. The car was not going to help her, she needed a more maneuverable source of transportation, one with the same speeds as the filly.

Ten minutes later Cara mounted up. Her steed was the snow-white sprinter, Pritten. Pritten was her horse, even though Cara did not like racing. She had tried to train him to jump, but he couldn’t understand for the life of him that he was supposed to jump over the obstacles. He would only stop dead in his tracks when Cara tried to jump him, so she’d given up on it. Cara had had her fair share of  being dumped by horses. She knew she needed to save his energy for the race on Monday, but she needed a horse and she knew him. Cara didn’t like the Pritten’s quick, bumpy gallop, nor did she like galloping in general. She thought galloping was for getting away, not pushing your horse to its limits and then some.

Pritten picked up a bumpy trot when Cara dug her heels into his sides. She trotted him toward the far side of the stallion barn where feed was kept. She figured that was where a loose filly would head next. Sure enough, when Pritten rounded the corner a grullo filly was eating the extra hay from the ground. Cara halted Pritten and dismounted. She slowly approached the filly with a halter. When she got close enough, she laced her fingers into Stargazer’s mane. Stargazer realized her freedom was gone and lowered her head so Cara could put the halter on.

✧

Later that evening, Cara sat in her room studying for her math test on Monday. She saw the letters on the page, but she couldn’t make herself focus on them. She could not help but remember her father saying that Pritten would race that Monday. That night she went to bed unsure of what the morning would hold.

Cara was sleeping silently in her bed when a maid entered her room. The girl felt a light touch on her shoulder and heard a shy voice.

“Wake up, Miss. You’re racing that white horse-uh, Kitten, today.” Cara’s eyes flew open.

“What?” the girl asked in a sharp voice. She sat up and looked at the clock. 3:30 am. Wait, 3:30! Cara looked at the maid.

“What?” she demanded.

“You get up now, Miss. Your father is racing that white horse today and you’re the jockey.” Cara gasped. She became nervous, but still got dressed and ran outside.

The sky was still dark and Cara’s eyes felt puffy from the sudden bright light. Pritten was already in the trailer. The girl ran to the passenger side of the truck and climbed in.

✧

Hours later and after a morning of hard work and preparation, Cara approached her horse. She mounted up, but she didn’t want to race and was paranoid of falling off. Her knees shook as she walked the horse into the starting gate. She heard the gate close behind her; no turning back now.

At least Pritten was a good waiter. He didn’t rear in the starting gate or spook when the other horses did. The white stallion stood still while Cara tried to calm herself. She knew she had years of race-riding experience and was unlikely to fall off, but she was still nervous. Cara heard her father’s voice behind her.

“Ten thousand dollars if Pritten wins.” her father said. Now the girl was really pressured to win. She tensed up, and at that very second she heard a gunshot. The gates flew open and Pritten was off.

Cara lost her balance for a second when the horse took off. She could feel her knees shaking, but saw that she was in the lead! Her moves were second nature as she guided the white stallion to the inside. She heard hoofbeats behind her, but knew they were sure to be far away.

Cara soon realized that those hoofbeats were not far away. In fact, they were now right next to her, then in front. They were in the lead now! She got scared. How could I be so stupid! She scolded herself in her head. The girl glanced nervously at the horse slightly in front of her and saw that he was only about a stride ahead. She asked Pritten for more speed, and her delivered. With two mighty bounds he caught up, and a third one would put him in front. But just as he placed his silky white hoof in front of the other horse, he seemed to drop out from under the girl.

The audience watched in terror as it happened. Pritten had lost his footing. The audience screamed as he tumbled to the ground. His nose hit first, and his inertia kept him going. He slid on his nose for a second, then fell sideways. His neck burst open and his rider was flung to the side of the track. His carotid artery gushed blood out of his neck. The horse behind him leapt over the fallen horse but its back hoof hit his head, crushing it slightly and tearing open his muzzle. The blood was still warm as it spilled onto the track. The rest of the horses that had been behind Pritten managed to get around the mess and not one of them slowed.

Cara started up at the sky. She could not believe what had happened. Nothing hurt bad, so she began moving each part of her body separately. First she moved her fingers, then arms, legs, and neck. Finally she sat up. Three men dressed in white scrubs ran toward her.

“Are you okay?”

“Yeah. Yeah. I’m f-fine.” she said in disbelief.

“Stay still,” the man paused. “Okay, now move each-”

“I’ve already done that.” she interrupted.

“Okay, then. We’re going to help you up.” Two men lifted Cara up. She cautiously took a step, then another. Everything was fine. She took off running towards Pritten.

Pritten’s body was limp on the track. His white coat was matted with blood and dirt. Cara nodded at one of the vets, then sat down and lifted Pritten’s head onto her lap. His muzzle was caked in blood and his eyes were rolled back in his head. The girl blinked back tears as she put his head back on the ground. She walked a few steps away and began to sob madly. She couldn’t bear it.

✧

Three days later Cara and her father stood under the maple tree at the far end of the stallion pasture. Pritten had loved standing under that tree, but now the dirt was freshly turned up in a little mound over his horse-sized coffin. Cara stood in silence, her face red and tears dripping from her eyes. Mr. Smith was speaking in a low voice to a hand. The air felt as if it too were mourning; it was dense and wet. Cara felt sad, but she also felt a sense of relief. She didn’t have to ride Pritten’s bumpy gallop anymore. She didn’t have to squint at his far-too-white coat anymore. She felt guilty for being the last one to ride him, and guilty for feeling relieved. She knew she’d get a new horse, and yet she was still sad. She turned around to go inside, and her mood was lifted by what she saw.

A grey yearling was cantering through the fillies’ pasture. She had soft grey coat with light dapples and a dark grey mane and tail that flowed gently with her smooth, graceful stride. The filly suddenly turned and raced toward the cavaletti jump that Cara had used in trying to train Pritten to jump. She placed her hooves lightly on the ground before the jump, and pushed herself up with her strong haunches just in front of it. She soared over the small pole and landed softly on the other side. She bucked once after jumping and cantered away. She was a jumper. A grin slowly spread over Cara’s face and she ran to meet the horse she just knew would be her new horse.

Facing Fears

“C’mon, Dillan!” Bobbi called. She motioned with her hand for him to step closer to the rock climbing wall.

“No, Bobbi.” he said plainly.

“Wait… are you scared of rock climbing?” the girl asked as she fastened the harness around her waist.

“Yeah. It just freaks me out.” Dillan said. He took a step back, nearly bumping into a short Hispanic woman who was standing in line.

“You should try it! Really!” Bobbi said in a loud, playful tone. She loved to climb; she could barely contain herself when they saw the huge wall at the end of the pier. Dillan, on the other hand, was terrified to get anywhere near a wall. His mom had fallen off of one when he was six, and he remembered the day he’d found out she broke her arm. At the age of six, this had seemed like a much greater ailment then it did now, but the boy was still terrified.

“Naaah, I’m good.” he said, trying to stay cool. His knees involuntarily began to shake and he took another step back. He didn’t want Bobbi to know he was afraid.

“Oooh, come on! It;s not that bad!” she cried. Dillan took another step back and turned around. He didn’t want to see Bobbi get hurt. Just then, he saw Samantha walking towards them. He ran to her and gave her a hug,

“Thought you couldn’t make it!” he said.

“Well, my grandma was in town and said she could bring me.” Samantha looked out over the ocean. “I love the ocean, don’t you?” she said happily.

“I guess.” Dillan put his arm around her shoulders as they walked to the end of the pier and sat down. To their left, Bobbi was now on the wall, seemingly flowing up the plastic structure more than climbing it. Her short blond ponytail waved back and forth and her skilled hands and feet moved up quickly.

“Bobbi really loves to climb, doesn’t she?” Samantha said as she looked over to the wall.

“Yeah. She wanted me to try, but… nevermind.” Dillan really didn’t want Samantha to know he was afraid.

“What is it?” she asked. A sudden gust of wind blew her long dark hair away from her face. She reached out and grabbed Dillan’s hand. A shiver went through him as he wrapped his fingers around hers and replied,

“Well, to be honest I’m afraid of rock climbing.” he said.

“That’s okay. Do you wanna try it with me?” she said, standing up and dragging him with her.

“N-no.” Dillan stood up, but his feet were planted on the wood where he’d been sitting. He stared at the wall.

“C’mon,” Samantha said quietly. She squeezed his hand and turned to him, “There’s a guy there to help you, and you’re top-roped.”

Dillan didn’t care. He was not going to climb no matter what.

“No.”

“Oh, okay then.” Samantha said, “Let’s get something to eat.”

The two childish 14 year olds walked to a hot dog stand and ordered two hot dogs, then found a place to sit and eat them. A few minutes later Bobbi showed up and sat down at their table.

“So, what’re you guys doing next?” she asked.

“Hmm, we might go on the ferris wheel.” Samantha offered. The three were quiet until Samantha and Dillan finished their hot dogs.

“Sam, you wanna go on the rock climbing wall with me?” Bobbi looked at Samantha expectantly.

“Sure!” she said, “Dillan, you okay staying here till I get back?”

“Sure.” was his only reply. Sam and Bobbi got up and walked toward the rock climbing line. Dillan watched as his friends walked away, beginning to feel lonely.

☆ ☆ ☆

The following day, Dillan met his friends at Santa Monica Pier again. Bobbi didn’t show up, but Sam got a text that said “Goin’ to the climbing gym! See you on Thursday!”

Dillan waited on the beach for Sam, sitting in the sand and staring at the ocean. When she finally arrived she jumped out of the car and plopped down cross-legged next to him.

“Hey!” she said softly.

“Hi, Sam.” Dillan said. The girl threw her arms around him.

“My parents are getting divorced.” She said, tears beginning to roll down her cheeks. Dillan hugged her tightly, though he was unsure what to do when a girl cried on his shoulder. He knew what it was to be divorced, but he’d never seen anyone he knew actually get a divorce. Sam’s tears wet his shirt and his own cheek. He pulled a bag of tissues out of his right pocket and offered them to her.

“Thanks.” she said, letting go of Dillan and wiping her eyes.

“I knew they weren’t super happy or whatever, but I never thought it would come to this…” she began, “I mean, what am I supposed to do now? Dad wants to move to Arizona, and Mom is going to sell the house and get an apartment!” Dillan sat silently and listened. When Sam was finally finished, she blew her nose one more time and looked at Dillan. He too had been staring at the sea.

“Well, I’m still here.” he said. Sam gave him a grateful look. He took her hand in his and squeezed it. He desperately thought of something to say.

“You wanna go on the ferris wheel now?” he asked.

“Sure.” Sam stood up and walked toward the pier.

☆ ☆ ☆

An hour later the two were about to call their parents to get a ride home. Dillan pulled out his phone to text his mom, when suddenly Samantha stopped him.

“Wait! Let’s go on the rock climbing wall,” she smiled, “I want to help you get over your fear.”

“What? No, you don’t have to.” he said shyly.

“I want to.” she said. A huge smile spread over her face and she started walking toward the end of the pier. Dillan followed this time, knowing that his girlfriend wouldn’t push him further than he wanted to go.

When they got to the wall there was hardly a line. Sam walked up and began putting on a harness, then handed one to Dillan. He held it away from his body and stared at it, unsure if he should put it on or not. Sam saw the confused look on his face.

“It’s fine, you’re going to be top roped anyway, and it’s only about thirty feet high.”

Thirty feet! Dillan’s knees shook and his eyes began to sting. Just then he noticed that it seemed windier than before. Just my luck. he thought. He forced his legs into the harness and tightened it around his waist. Sam helped him tighten more straps and tie himself in to the rope.

“No! This is too much! Sam!” Dillan cried. The girl just smiled and gave him an awkward hug. For the first time he felt that she wasn’t helping at all. He felt alone and terrified, and just stood, staring up at the wall. He could barely blink for fear that tears would flow from his eyes. Sam was already beginning to climb, and she moved quickly up the wall until she was above Dillan’s head. He stared at her, wanting only to hug her and get her down. Suddenly a small rush of courage ran through him and he put his hands on the wall. No, no, don’t do it! Don’t do it! his brain seemed to neglect any ounce courage he had, forcing him to pull his hand away.

“You gonna climb, Dillan?” Sam called, looking down at him and smiling. She swung over until she was directly above him and held out her hand. The boy grabbed it and tried again to grab the wall with his other hand. He lifted his foot to a large hold and put his weight on it. His knee shook as his other foot left the pier. He couldn’t take it any more; his body tensed up and finally he jumped back down to the ground, salty tears flowing from his ocean-blue eyes and rolling down his face and cheeks. The boy just stared at the wall, frozen. He did not notice Sam coming down, nor did he notice the guide taking the harness off of him.

“Dillan, Dillan!” Sam stood directly in front of him, her teeth clenched together as she hissed his name. Finally he focused his eyes one her.

“Let’s get out of here!” she said angrily, glancing at the people that surrounded them, all of whom were staring at Dillan. She grabbed his wrist and walked him out of the crowd.

Once they were alone Dillan fell apart. He hugged Sam tightly, letting his tears flow into her hair and over his own cheeks and face. He’d been terrified, and on top of that, utterly humiliated. Sam hugged him back, trying desperately to be supportive and caring. Finally she let go of him and stood back.

“I’m sorry,” she said, “I shouldn’t have made you do that.”

“It’s o-okay.” Dillan said. He was embarrassed to be crying in front of his girlfriend and tried to look normal. He took the bag of tissues out of his pocket again and wiped away his own tears, trying not to make eye contact with Sam. She waited a minute before asking him,

“Are you okay?”

“Not really.” Dillan said. He looked at her shyly, expecting her to think he was pathetic. Instead, she smiled slightly and then looked away, blushing a little at his attention. She pulled out her phone and texted her mom. A few seconds later she said,

“Mom’s coming to pick me up.” At that, Dillan pulled out his own cell phone and handed it to her. She took it and texted his mother. A second later the screen lit up.

“She’s coming.” Sam said. The two walked back to the beach and waited for their cars.

☆ ☆ ☆

The following weekend Dillan’s family was back at the pier. All day Dillan watched the rock wall, as if it might jump at him when he wasn’t looking. After lunch his sister wanted to climb it.

“Mommy, I wanna climb the rock wall!” she protested. “Rock wall! Rock wall! Rock wall!” she cried.

“Ugh, Dillan, will you take Cassie up the rock wall?” his mother asked.

“Fine.” he said. He took his little sister’s hand and they walked to the rock wall. He pretended not to be nervous for his sister’s benefit, and once he was harness up he decided he’d better try. He placed his right foot on the same hold he’d tried the other day with Sam, but this time his knees didn’t shake. He climbed up further, moving his arms and legs in sequence and trusting the small, fake rocks with his weight. Before he knew it he was halfway up the wall. He looked down, seeing Cassie was already unharnessed and waiting for him. He figured he should go back down, but some tiny instinct told him that she could wait, he needed to climb just a little higher… It was then that it hit him- this was quite fun! He climbed up higher and higher until there was nowhere else to climb, then he looked down. the ground seemed very far away and he began to feel woozy.

“I’m comin’ down!” he called to the guy belaying him. The rope slackened and he let go of the wall, leaning back and walking backwards. Before he knew it his feet touched the wood of the pier.

“Yessss!” he said quietly. He’d done it, climbed all the way to the top and repelled down without a problem. He quickly unharnessed himself and walked Cassie back to their parents.

☆ ☆ ☆

“I did it!” Dillan cried into the phone.

“What? What did you do?” Sam asked on the other end.

“I climbed the rock wall on the pier!”

“Really? Nice job!” Sam said, “Wanna meet me there tomorrow?”

“Sure… What time?”

“Let me see… Oh, I think I can go at two o’clock…” She asked her mom, then came back to the phone. “Yeah, she can bring me at two. You?”

“I just asked, she said yeah. I’ll be there then.”

“Okay! See you then!” Sam said excitedly.

“See ya!” Dillan saw his screen flashing and knew Sam had hung up. He smiled to himself and set down the phone.

The following day Sam and Dillan met at the pier again.

“Well, let’s go!” Sam said. Dillan laced his fingers through hers and they walked toward the rock wall. When they got there they had to wait in a line. Dillan looked fondly at Sam, who in turn squeezed his hand and smiled. They stood watching the climbers before them until it was finally their turn. Dillan harnessed himself and then helped Sam tighten her harness around her waist. They tied themselves in and began to climb. Dillan didn’t think twice about his footing, just allowed himself to flow up the rock as Bobbi had a week before. He felt confident and swift in every move, glancing every so often at Sam, who was keeping up with him easily. She smiled bigger than ever when they reached the top.

“ ‘five!” she said, holding out her hand. Dillan smacked it and smiled, again, then turned to the guide and hollered,

“We’re coming down!” He and his girlfriend repelled peacefully, and when they hit the ground they unharness themselves quickly.

“Nice job!” Sam said. Dillan stood still, feeling that he could conquer anything, even if all he’d conquered was his fear of rock climbing. He was so happy he could’ve jumped right off the pier, but didn’t because he knew Sam wouldn’t follow him. Instead, he leaned in close to her face and planted a big sloppy kiss right on her cheek. Now that’s confidence, he thought.