Chapter Talk the Talk: Stella vs. Grove Station Farms
I don’t want to be here.
My skin prickles like a fast-growing cactus the second my blueberry-blue eyes land on the sign for the horse barn: Grove Station Farms, Piedmont, South Carolina. The AC’s turned up all the way so I can breathe. However, it’s useless because that horrendous sun is bleaching my skinny jeans and Grove Station Farms t-shirt. A sunny day never felt more like a curse than a blessing.
It’s been about six months since I last taught here. I’m nervous, but I have to overcome my fear somehow.
My silver Jeep’s tires pick up dust as I enter the farm’s driveway. Well, it doesn’t look like it’s changed too much. The blue barn is still as ugly as ever and on my left. There are currently only a few cars in the enormous parking lot. Then again, the lesson doesn’t start for another hour, at 4:00. In the past six months, the farm could have at least paved it. I still have to park at the foot of the petting zoo.
I pull in beside a red Convertible. Boy, I wish I had that car instead of this stinky, old one. Well, whatever. Here I am. I put my Jeep in park and take the keys out of the ignition. Before opening the door, I check my curly, blonde hair in the mirror and put it in a high ponytail. It’s going to be a hot one today.
***
“Stella, you’re here!” The farm’s owner, Mrs. Susie, startles me the second I enter the barn. It looks like not much has changed here, either.
The toes of my boots dig into sawdust like a shovel. Stalls are on either side of the long hallway. There are a total of twenty since Grove Station Farms has eighteen horses. We store halters, lead ropes, tack, and food in the remaining two. Beside me are two benches, as well as the office.
Mrs. Susie looks like she’s gotten a bit plump. She still has medium-length chocolate hair and brown eyes, but her belly now sticks out. Like me, she’s wearing jeans, boots, and a red shirt. “Oh, I’ve missed you!” she cheers. Out of the blue, she embraces me and lifts me off the ground. “You weren’t kidding when you said you’d return on your nineteenth birthday.”
My eyes pop. I can hardly breathe. “Mrs. Susie, put me down.”
“Oh, sorry.” She drops me onto the floor, and I land hard on my butt.
I clench my teeth and rub it. “Well, it’s more like you said you need an instructor for the intermediate class today.”
“That, too,” Mrs. Susie chuckles. “But I’m so glad you decided to come. Your mother told me you’ve been nervous around horses ever since...” Her voice trails. “Well, you know—”
“Yes, I do,” I interrupt. Mrs. Susie does not have to remind me. I want to get this lesson over with. Already, this is the worst birthday I’ve ever had.
Mrs. Susie leads me into the office to go over a few things. Seriously, is anyone going to clean out this hell house? Why is it always so much dirtier here than the rest of the barn? The desk is still coming apart at the edges, and dawg gone, it all! That stupid summer fan is back! I’m surprised nobody here has claustrophobia inside such a tight space.
Mrs. Susie plops down in a chair behind the desk. The notebook where we write down all the lessons is before her. She flips through it and sneezes when dust tickles her nose. “Yes, yes, here we are. June 30th, Miss Stella’s birthday! We made it a private lesson today for you, but little Maise is looking forward to it. Hey, at least it’s not nine students.”
I roll my eyes and mumble, “Terrific.” I don’t like children anymore.
“Oh, this is so exciting,” Mrs. Susie adds. She claps her hands. “Don’t worry, Stella, we’ll get you back into horses. In fact—” she hops out of her chair and clamps my shoulders—“we have a new horse who would love to meet you. His name is Monkey.”
“Monkey.” What a ridiculous name for a horse.
His stall is the seventh one down the left line of stalls. There is a fan in the opening gap where his food bowl is. Monkey is a mere pony—about thirteen hands at the withers. His body is white, but his muzzle and feet are black.
His dark brown eyes meet mine, and he seems to scoff. He turns his back to Mrs. Susie and me so he can show off his big, fat rump.
“Now, now, Monkey.” Mrs. Susie opens his stall slightly so she can squeeze in. She grabs hold of his nose and turns him toward me. “You must be on your best behavior today for Stella and Maise.”
Oh, gosh, this horse is going to kill me. I can see his glowing, red eyes and hear evil laughter.
Fear encases me in a cocoon, and I don’t want to break free. “Are you saying we’re gonna use Monkey in the lesson today?”
“We sure are.” Mrs. Susie gently rocks Monkey’s head back and forth. “Who’s a good boy? Come on, Stella, pat his nose.”
I come within reach of the stall’s door and peer inside.
Monkey seems to stare at me. He huffs, indicating he’d much rather be roaming the pasture than trapped in this stinky barn. Suddenly, he pushes past Mrs. Susie and flips up his water bucket with his nose. Water splashes onto my shirt.
“I can’t!” I yell. I back away from Monkey’s stall and shake my head.
“Stella, wait!” But it’s too late for Mrs. Susie.
