A short story I wrote based off of a picture prompt!
People took for granted some of the most incredible things in life: Laughter, the sense of voice, sight, hearing, hanging with friends, eating, having children, playing, walking.
I knew because I had been deprived of walking since I was born. “Deprived” wasn’t necessarily the right word, for how can you feel the loss of something you never had to begin with?
I did feel at a disadvantage, though. While my family was able to do whatever they wanted, when they wanted, I had to ask others to get something if it’s too high for me, had to sit and watch while my older brother, Jack, played basketball with his friends, had to have someone with me at all times, and had to lug my wheelchair everywhere with me.
But despite all of that, I found myself more and more okay with not being able to walk. Because not having that ability had taught my family to appreciate having it more than anything else could have. I saw it in their eyes as they helped me get dressed, I felt it in their posture as they slowed their stride to match my wheelchair, and I heard it in their voice whenever they discussed me.
“God, if I can help them truly appreciate life through this, then so be it,” I whispered into the summer day as I sat in my wheelchair––obviously––at the round pen that held my brother’s horse. He led the white mare in circles, murmuring to her as they went.
I leaned forward when they passed me. I was so curious to know what it felt like to ride a horse, to give it free rein and feel the wind stinging my cheeks red.
Just one more thing I couldn’t do. I sighed and looked down at myself.
Because of my disability, I was the scrawniest sixteen-year-old boy I knew. Self-loafing rose, but I pushed it down. I’m okay with how I am. I like how I am. I repeated the chant in my head as I continued to watch Jack work, his able legs leading him and the horse round, and round, and round.
I was so lost in my thoughts that I didn’t notice he had stopped until he stood before me on the other side of the fence.
“You feeling okay, James?”
My head shot up. “Y-yeah. Fine.”
He stared at me before glancing at the horse and back.
I looked away, uncomfortable with his scrutiny and scared he’d read my desire on my face.
“That’s it.” Jack vaulted himself over the fence and landed next to me with a thud. “You’re getting on a horse. Today.”
My heart stopped. “What––no! No, I am not!”
My panicked voice did nothing to stop Jack as he pushed me around the circular pen to the gate, but I didn’t stop protesting.
“Jack, I’m serious. I can’t ride a horse. I’m disabled, remember?”
He simply pushed me even faster, the wheels bumping and creaking along the uneven ground in clear protest of the rough treatment.
I gripped the armrests. “What are you doing, man?”
“It’s time to fly, brother. You’ve spent your whole life stuck in that chair, never moving, never walking.”
“That’s because I can’t walk, dufus.” Had he lost his mind? I looked around for my mom to save me from Jack’s mad scheme, but there was no one in sight.
Jack pushed me through the gate and jerked me to a stop. He jogged around me and grabbed the mare’s reins from where he’d dropped them on the packed dirt, leading the horse to me.
He stopped right in front of me. “You see, James, we’re going to skip the little walking part and go straight to flying. Which, I might add, is something no one else can say they’ve ever done.” He winked.
I stared at him, my mouth agape. He truly had lost his mind.
Before I could voice any more protests that wouldn’t have worked anyway, Jack leaned down, wrapped an arm underneath my armpits, and lifted.
I grunted as my legs flopped uselessly beneath me. Jack held me so my feet touched the ground, my legs bent, but there was no pressure on them.
“Grab onto the horn.”
“Jack, this is stupid. I can’t ride a horse!” I flailed my arms.
“Yes, you can.” Enthusiasm infused Jack’s voice. “I’ve seen the way you watch me with the horses, the way you study how I handle them and how they move. I know you’ve always wanted to ride them. Well, I’m not making you wait another day. You are getting on this darn horse, so stop being afraid!”
“I’m not afraid, I’m being realistic! I’ve never heard of a disabled person riding a horse.”
He shrugged nonchalantly. “Then you’ll be the first! Now, grab the horn.”
I resisted his tugs on my arm, unable to believe he was serious, unable to hope that I actually could. Because he was right––I’ve loved horses since the day Dad brought one home when I was seven. There was something about the magnificent creatures that made me fall, something wild and calm, gentle and strong, kind and proud, close yet wholly unreachable.
Maybe that was why I stopped fighting Jack’s hold. This was the closest I’d ever been to a horse, so close I could feel its warm breath on my shoulder. I might never get this chance again, for the moment Mom and Dad saw me they’d take me ten miles away from the big beasts.
“Okay. I’ll do it.” My determined whisper filled the air around us.
A grin crept up Jack’s face. “Knew you’d come around. Now can you please grab the saddle horn?”
I laughed and gripped it with both of my hands.
“Good. On the count of three, I’m going to lift you onto the horse. All you have to do is hold on, and I’ll position you, okay?”
I nodded, my breath speeding up, my hands suddenly clammy.
“One, two, three!” Jack hoisted me up with his right arm, steadying the horse with his left.
I scrambled to find purchase, wiggling until I lay vertical on the horse, Jack pushing my legs so they didn’t pull me down. My heart pounded at what I was doing, a whisper in the back of my mind wondering if this was safe, but I pushed that pesky voice away.
With Jack’s help, I slowly maneuvered into a sitting position, Jack guiding my feet into the stirrups. He strapped my legs to the horse so I wouldn’t fall off, then mounted behind me.
There was barely enough room for both of us in the saddle, so I guess it was a good thing that I didn’t have anything––fat or muscle––to my body.
Jack leaned over my shoulder, holding the reins around me. “You ready for this?”
My breath caught. Was I ready? No, no I’m not. I nodded, my mouth too dry to speak.
He nudged the horse, and she started moving.
I gasped and held onto the horn so tight my knuckles turned white. I’m going to fall. I’m going to fall and break my neck. Or perhaps I’d break my legs? That’d be a lucky break––haha, get it?
The back and forth sway was jarring at first, but after a minute of walking around the pen, I grew used to it.
I can’t believe it. I’m on a horse! I let a grin pull at my lips, elation pumping through my veins. After so many years sitting on the sideline––quite literally––, watching but never participating, I was finally doing something.
“You having fun?”
“Yeah, I am.”
My fear of falling blew away the longer I rode the horse. Not only was she gentle, but Jack had me secured between him and the front of the saddle.
We rode for a few more minutes before I worked up the courage to ask him if we could run.
“You’re a little daredevil now, eh?” Jack leaned forward and patted the horse’s neck. “Ready to fly, girl?” He turned her until she faced the open gate, then, before I could say anything else, kicked her with a “yah!”
The horse took off, spraying dirt clods into the air. She shot through the gate and ran, her hooves thudding against the ground.
I yelled and stabilized myself over her neck, the breath knocked from my lungs at the fast pace.
The wind whipped my short brown hair across my face. I laughed, unable to keep the elation bubbling up inside from erupting.
This. This is what I’d been missing all of my life. The earth blurring past, the feel of the horse’s muscles rippling beneath me as she galloped, the sharp wind stinging my face.
I was flying, just like Jack had said. Skipped right over walking and flew.
Thank you for reading! I hope you enjoyed it.
–– Katie Marie
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