Only fifteen minutes later, it's time for the lesson to begin. Mrs. Susie finishes tacking up Monkey.
I do not escape the bathroom until I feel ready and gulp at what I see.
Monkey is out of his stall, ready to go, and Mrs. Susie's just given Maise a leg up on his back. She's adjusting her stirrups when I approach her.
"Oh, Stella, here you are," Mrs. Susie says. "You good? You know, if you don't want to teach the lesson, I'd be glad to take your place."
"No, I want to." I stop my voice from shaking, trying to look brave.
Mrs. Susie gives me a concerned look. "You sure? I mean, after what happened with—?"
"Mrs. Susie! I want to."
Instantly, she surrenders and holds up her hands. "Okay, okay. I don't get you at times, Stella. It's so hard to figure out what you're thinking."
Do you want to know what I'm thinking right now? Little Miss Maise does not have her helmet on correctly. The black accessory is hanging halfway over the top of her neck.
I reach for it, but she slaps my hand away.
"I've got it." While fixing her helmet, Maise asks Mrs. Susie, "Mrs. Susie, does Stella have to be my instructor? I mean, look at her. She's scared of horses."
I cringe and try to make myself look small. I want to dig a hole in the sawdust and spend the rest of my life underground.
Mrs. Susie gasps, but it's sarcastic, and she says, "Maise, our goal is to get Stella back on her feet. The little chap has the blood of a horseback rider. We need to bring it out." Before I can say anything, she pulls me close to her breasts. Mrs. Susie gives me a knuckle rub on top of my head, causing me to suffocate.
I feel myself blushing and say, "Mrs. Susie!" Quickly, I break free before she snaps my neck. The side of my mouth twitches. For the first time in six months, I crack a small smile.
Both Monkey and Mrs. Susie glance at me.
Mrs. Susie nods, adding, "There's the Stella smile. You can do this, girl."
You know, maybe I can. However, there is no doubt that Maise does not accept me yet. How can I get her to change her thoughts about me? I only have an hour to save my reputation, which is not enough. At least, I don't think so.
I lead Maise to the outdoor ring. We cut through the parking lot and enter an enormous green field behind it. The pony ring is before us and down a small hill. That's where we usually hold birthday parties and beginner-riding lessons. A few benches overlook the ring. A small grove of trees encase it. Hanging from one of the trees is a swing. Children—students, partygoers, and campers—love to play on it and spin each other like tops.
It's always an adventure trying to reach the outdoor ring. We need to walk down the steep section of the pony ring hill to the lower level of the farm. I make sure Maise leans back on Monkey the whole journey. This is crucial. Leaning back while going down a hill helps with a horse's balance.
The outdoor ring is, by far, Grove Station Farm's largest training spot. It's oval-shaped and stretches to the pasture. Within the vicinity are hills, lamp posts, and benches. There is also a clear view of the pasture: its rolling, green hills, golden hay stacks, and piles of horse dung. Horses sometimes like to approach the gate and watch the lessons.
Like the indoor ring, the outdoor one has poles set as obstacles. Maise just started two-foot verticals at a canter. How do I know this? Because that is what I was teaching my students right before the accident.
Mrs. Susie follows us. She settles down on one of the benches and gives me a nod.
I return it. This is it. It's time for all Hell to break loose.
ns 15.158.61.8da2