Susan Larson's Blog - Posts Tagged "revenge"
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Sam Changes his Mind
Sam sauntered down the barn lane like an old moo cow, his head bobbing between Evvie and me, his ears waggling back and forth in time with his strides. My heart was thumping about three beats per waggle. I led Sam close to the stave bench, then stood on it and slowly looped the reins over his neck.
Sam tensed up and rolled a spooky-blue left eye around to glare at me. He whuffed out hard through his nose as I undid the halter and lifted the crownpiece of the bridle up in front of his face…
“Hmpf!” he said, and flung his nose straight up. How could he? After I had been so nice to him.
“Should I smack him?” I asked Evvie.
“I dunno, is be being bad?”
Was he? Or was he just expecting to get yarned around? We stood there another minute. The nose stayed up, the eye stared at me. Finally I took the bridle down and reached out nice and slow with my empty hand. I stroked Sam’s neck.
“Don’t worry, Sam.” My voice was shaking. “I won’t yarn you around, ever. Ever. I promise.”
That eye glowered down at me and I looked up at it. I kept stroking his neck. It was as hard as stone. Another long minute went by.
The eye closed. Sam smacked his lips and made a sound like a sigh. Did I hear him say,
“Tsk. Oh, all right, if it means that much to you.” Sam lowered his head. I held up the bridle again and he took the bit. I eased the crown piece over his ears, off side, near side. Sam sighed again while I did up the buckles; then the eye opened and looked at me. Not glaring…
Sam lifted his nose up close to my face. He sniffed my hair and my mouth and touched my cheek with his whiskers. I sighed and shut my eyes…
Sam sauntered down the barn lane like an old moo cow, his head bobbing between Evvie and me, his ears waggling back and forth in time with his strides. My heart was thumping about three beats per waggle. I led Sam close to the stave bench, then stood on it and slowly looped the reins over his neck.
Sam tensed up and rolled a spooky-blue left eye around to glare at me. He whuffed out hard through his nose as I undid the halter and lifted the crownpiece of the bridle up in front of his face…
“Hmpf!” he said, and flung his nose straight up. How could he? After I had been so nice to him.
“Should I smack him?” I asked Evvie.
“I dunno, is be being bad?”
Was he? Or was he just expecting to get yarned around? We stood there another minute. The nose stayed up, the eye stared at me. Finally I took the bridle down and reached out nice and slow with my empty hand. I stroked Sam’s neck.
“Don’t worry, Sam.” My voice was shaking. “I won’t yarn you around, ever. Ever. I promise.”
That eye glowered down at me and I looked up at it. I kept stroking his neck. It was as hard as stone. Another long minute went by.
The eye closed. Sam smacked his lips and made a sound like a sigh. Did I hear him say,
“Tsk. Oh, all right, if it means that much to you.” Sam lowered his head. I held up the bridle again and he took the bit. I eased the crown piece over his ears, off side, near side. Sam sighed again while I did up the buckles; then the eye opened and looked at me. Not glaring…
Sam lifted his nose up close to my face. He sniffed my hair and my mouth and touched my cheek with his whiskers. I sighed and shut my eyes…
“I Wish you were Somebody Else”
These words may be the worst and most murderous message one can deliver to another human being. In “Sam (a pastoral)” my novel about horses and humans, those words are never said. But the protagonist, Ruthie gets a the unspoken message from her Dad: he would have liked a better kid than the one he got.
When I was young, many folks thought that being harsh and judgmental with your children was something you did for their own good. Belittling them, telling them what disappointments they were to you, toughened them up for the inevitable hard knocks awaiting them in the real world. Cuddling them produced adults who were soft, gay, dependent on food stamps, whatever. Today, at least among liberal thinkers, what was once a popular child-rearing method is called ‘abuse.’
In “Sam” there is a quiet, bucolic chapter called ‘At the Horse Show.’ In this chapter Ruthie, having bought and befriended the homely, cranky horse Sam, she leaves him snoozing in the barn and goes to see a local horse show. She is happy that she’s no longer feeling left out and jealous– she has a horse now too, and he is wonderful in so many ways.
She forgets all those wonderful ways the moment she sees the pretty, graceful, shiny ponies the other kids have: their braided manes, silky tails and sleek clipped coats. The ponies she used to dream about; just better in every way than hers.
She goes home and tries to pretty Sam up. She trims the mops of hair off his fetlocks. She cuts off his beard and whiskers. She braids his mane and hacks off half the hair on his tail, trying desperately to turn him into some other horse; but the task proves impossible. By the end of this fruitless makeover session, which Sam enjoys immensely, she reaches a wise conclusion: Sam is OK just the way he is.
Later in the book, there is a deeper echo of this story, as Ruthie and Bea Pilcher sit in Bea’s kitchen talking about the breakup of Ruthie’s family, and the terrible burning rage that has devoured her life ever since. Bea reaches over and pats Ruthie’s hair and tells her she wished she had a kid like her.
This is the beginning of Ruthie’s return to herself. Somebody has said to her, you may be in a bad place, but you, you are OK just as you are.
When I was young, many folks thought that being harsh and judgmental with your children was something you did for their own good. Belittling them, telling them what disappointments they were to you, toughened them up for the inevitable hard knocks awaiting them in the real world. Cuddling them produced adults who were soft, gay, dependent on food stamps, whatever. Today, at least among liberal thinkers, what was once a popular child-rearing method is called ‘abuse.’
In “Sam” there is a quiet, bucolic chapter called ‘At the Horse Show.’ In this chapter Ruthie, having bought and befriended the homely, cranky horse Sam, she leaves him snoozing in the barn and goes to see a local horse show. She is happy that she’s no longer feeling left out and jealous– she has a horse now too, and he is wonderful in so many ways.
She forgets all those wonderful ways the moment she sees the pretty, graceful, shiny ponies the other kids have: their braided manes, silky tails and sleek clipped coats. The ponies she used to dream about; just better in every way than hers.
She goes home and tries to pretty Sam up. She trims the mops of hair off his fetlocks. She cuts off his beard and whiskers. She braids his mane and hacks off half the hair on his tail, trying desperately to turn him into some other horse; but the task proves impossible. By the end of this fruitless makeover session, which Sam enjoys immensely, she reaches a wise conclusion: Sam is OK just the way he is.
Later in the book, there is a deeper echo of this story, as Ruthie and Bea Pilcher sit in Bea’s kitchen talking about the breakup of Ruthie’s family, and the terrible burning rage that has devoured her life ever since. Bea reaches over and pats Ruthie’s hair and tells her she wished she had a kid like her.
This is the beginning of Ruthie’s return to herself. Somebody has said to her, you may be in a bad place, but you, you are OK just as you are.
"Sam (a pastoral)" on Overdrive
To all lovers of animals and humans: My book "Sam (a pastoral)" is now distributed as an e-book by Overdrive to your library. You can request "Sam" and read it any your tablet, phone or laptop.
"Sam" is the story of two misfits who fall in love and stick by each other even when the world turns against them.
For young (and older) adults. Positive themes include nature, farming, family, friendship, forgiveness and reconciliation. Potentially disturbing themes include bullying, parental abandonment, animal abuse and depression.
Not a bad read! Please share this around if you like!
"Sam" is the story of two misfits who fall in love and stick by each other even when the world turns against them.
For young (and older) adults. Positive themes include nature, farming, family, friendship, forgiveness and reconciliation. Potentially disturbing themes include bullying, parental abandonment, animal abuse and depression.
Not a bad read! Please share this around if you like!
