The Canter (part two)

"All right, Judy. Why don't you lead us off? Let's warm up at the trot," Charlotte called out from her position in the center of the arena. Her blonde confidence seemed to dare Judy's fear to show itself. With a "cluck, cluck" of her tongue, Judy signaled to the white mare to step forward more briskly. Bracing her body for the jarring insult that she knew would come, she willed her heels to bump the sides of the old horse.

Thump, thump, thump. Her legs flapped still harder but the mare just lengthened her step until she was moving forward into a disjointed long-stepping walk. As Judy flailed against the mare, her fear disappeared and was replaced by determination. One by one, each of the other students encouraged their mounts into the flowing two-beat gait.

Clop, clop, clop. Each girl and her mount passed Judy and Beulah as they struggled to find harmony. As the girls trotted by them, Judy sensed their superior attitudes and her fear disappeared completely. Determination dug in and she flapped her denim-clad legs more violently. Charlotte watched her class as they began trotting around the perimeter of the arena. Noting their balance, form, and technique, she called out, "Excellent, Brittney. Very good hand position, Rachel."

Her gaze settled onto the final pair and her sunny veneer cracked for the briefest of moments. "Oh, Judy. Well. Well done there," Charlotte stammered. The mare was panting and so was her red-faced rider.

At that very moment, Emily trotted by the aged pair and flung a grin over her shoulder. Her mouth pulled wide exposing a gaping hole where her front teeth had been last week. The tiny face smiled with the practice and artifice of a debutante but the smile did not reach her eyes. With a great effort born of frustration, Judy dug her heels into the thickest part of the mare's sides and gave a heaving kick.

Beulah was unprepared for this new development and in the truest nature of a school horse, dared not defy such a direct order. She lifted her large front feet and stepped heavily into a canter. The mare's legs moved beneath her in a graceful, powerful gait- skipping along the railing of the arena. Her back rose and fell, tipping first backward, then swelled upward and finished in a downward rush forward. In rocking chair fashion, she propelled forward with powerful large strides.

Atop the cantering mare, the crimson haired rider was no longer crimson faced. She resumed her regal posture and sat tall, rocking with each stride to the rhythm of the mare. Her mouth pulled wider and wider until she felt she could not grin any more. Her face beamed with pride of accomplishment as well as sheer joy from the freedom of movement.

Together, Judy and Beulah cantered past the horses and riders in the arena. Heads high, they may been Joan of Arc and her great mount heading into battle. Or as likely, Dale Evans and Buttermilk larger than life on the silver screen. Judy noticed the shocked looks as she passed her fellow students. Along the railing, the bevy of parents and on-lookers, who moments before had been securing photos of their little ones, watched in stunned silence. Judy noted their awe and silently thought that she must look quite impressive since she was trotting so much faster than the other riders.

"Halt your horses everyone," Charlotte called abruptly. A chorus of "whoas" sounded around the arena.

"Whoa," Judy called in a breathless voice to the mount below her. Beulah responded obediently and the rocking chair motion ceased. The mare came to rest with all four feet standing quietly beneath them.

"Judy, wow. That was, wow," Charlotte began. "That was great but I think we should master the trot before you begin to canter," she continued looking younger and more vulnerable than she had a few moments earlier.

While waiting for the breath to return to her lungs, the reality of the situation began to settle over Judy. Momentarily, she felt as if she were the focal point of the entire arena, as the waiting students, their parents, and even their horses scrutinized her closely. She involuntarily patted her auburn hair which was neatly peaking from beneath the protective black helmet perched on her head. Finding that her coiffure had survived the encounter unfazed, she reached down and grasped a handful of buttery leather rein.

"Oh, I'm sorry," Judy began. "I'll wait until everyone is ready to canter before doing that again." With that, she clucked to the white mare who responded immediately this time to her rider's cue. As they stepped forward along the rail, Judy cast a glance back at the tiny rider standing just to her right and smiled.

The End.

Here is a photo of the real Judy at one of her riding lessons!