Chapter 3

Chapter 3
Riding the horse after school, each day, became the routine for Willie and I. It was not long before I noticed yet another horse out behind her house.

“Hey, Willie! Whose horse is that one?” I asked.
“Oh that’s Winnie. She belongs to my sister, Charlotte”.
I thought, “Two Charlotte’s in the same family? Is that odd or what?”


So this was, for some reason, why they called her Willie, while the older sister they called Charlotte. I never asked and certainly never found out the whole story about the names of these two girls. I just took it for what it was, and let it go at that.

I went with Willie to unsaddle the horse and brush him down. While we were tending to him, I kept noticing the other horse still in the pen, shoving against the gate, as though wanting to come out. I felt so sorry for her. So far, I had not seen anybody pay attention to her, groom her or even take her out on a ride.

I honestly could not understand how anybody could ignore such a beautiful horse. She had a magnetic spirit and wonderful form. A brown and white paint, she had reddish brown patches on her rump, the side of her neck and her underbelly. She was marvelous to behold.

This was one high-headed horse with spirit to spare. She had a huge barrel torso that narrowed down to tiny looking tummy. The vision of her chest was mesmerizing. The muscles seemed immense with distinguishable lines. Her walk was straight and strong. I saw such power in those legs and so wanted to see them running.

I could see hints of thoroughbred, with the hindquarters of the quarter horse. What might she be like to race?

I had this natural talent for picking out the winners at the racetrack. My mother once took me along. I stood on the sidelines, watching the horses warm up. Just watching the mannerisms, the sparkle in the eyes, the body length and position of the legs, I chose the winner and the runner up.

Mother decided to test my assumptions and placed bets according to what I told her. I had chosen wrong. The one I chose to win was the runner up and the one I chose to come in second, actually won the race. Twice, we went through this routine. On the third try, mother reversed what I said and would you believe, this time I was right.

By now, mother was fit to be tied. She was getting so frustrated with me. We did discover, however, that I had a talent for simply, naturally picking out horses.

Now, here I stood looking at the fastest body, I had ever seen and wondering if I would ever get to see her run.

I had an overwhelming desire to climb into that paddock and brush the other horse but Willie said, “No. You don’t want to mess with that one.” I left it alone. I was not that familiar with the family yet, and did not want to step on toes.

Willie’s horse was a gelding. A Tennessee Walker, and an old retired roping horse. His demeanor was that of a loving old friend and his name was Starlight. Starlight stood about 15 hands high, and for his age was fit. Such a gentle soul he was, and tolerated a lot of shenanigans out of two silly girls.

For those who don’t know, 15 hands is about the average size of a full-grown horse. ‘Sixteen hands’ would be considered large.

We often would take him out to ride bareback and double, wearing shorts and going bare foot. The only problem with riding Starlight bareback was the fact that he was old and his spine was like riding a wooden fence. For that reason, we rarely went any faster than a walk but then there were those times when we got rambunctious. From a nice stride of gallop, when we decided it was time to slow back to a walk, we both knew what we were in for.

Slowing from a gallop, down to a trot and then a walk, the ride became brutal. We clinched our thighs together, in self-defense, which caused us both to lose grip on his belly. As a result, by the time Starlight was stopped, Willie was astraddle his ears and I had bounced all the way up passed his withers. What a funny sight, we must have been. How dumb can two girls get to be putting themselves through this repeatedly? Who can explain youth?

The funniest part is the fact that even Starlight seemed to know what was about to happen. He lowered his head, just as he stopped, in preparation for 100 pounds of young girl to come sliding up to his ears. Since Willie was always in front, she just walked off the front of his head, came around and remounted.

Along 2nd street, there is a ditch. Folks referred to it as the ‘clear ditch’. It is the main irrigation though out the north valley area. This ditch is close to 20 feet across and at least 15 feet deep, wide at the top and narrow at the bottom. Between the ditch and the highway, which run parallel, is a wide patch of dirt about 30 feet wide and that is the favored horse-riding path. Willie and I spent most of our time, riding along the highway on this patch of dirt.

At that time, 2nd street was the main truck route running north and south through the city. It was common to hear the trucker’s air horns, as they blasted away at the pretty girls riding horses, along the highway.

When we were not riding along the highway, we were riding the other direction from my house. We would go past the end of our street, across the grassy field and wander along the railroad track.

As the train would pass by, the engineer waved at us, sometimes blowing silly kisses our way. This became such a routine, that one day he threw out a huge bag of hard candy, for us. The bag broke and we spent an hour gathering it all up. Now that was fun. A week later, he did it again.

Willie taught me new songs that we sang along the trail, everywhere we went. My favorite, we called “I love the rolling hills”. I have no idea what the song’s real name is. It went like this:
I love the mountains, I love the rolling hills.I love the flowers, I love the daffodils.I love the fires glow, when all the lights are low.Boom-di-ada. Boom-di-ada. Boom-di-ada. Boom-di-ada.

It was a rounder song. While one sang the verse, the other sang the chorus of boom-di-ada. Just a sweet song that meant nothing but we loved it. Everywhere we rode, we sang. We were both doing the things we loved the most: riding horses and singing.

The horses both seemed to love our singing. You can tell what a horse is paying attention to, by watching their ears. For the most part, when out on a walk, those ears are forward because they’re watching where they are walking. Little noises spook them, and they are constantly listening to their surroundings. You will see an ear dash off to one side and then back to the front. When the rider is verbalizing a command, the ears will go back, to listen. Watch out when those ears go back and flatten against the head. It means only one thing. They are about to get rid of the rider.

When Willie and I sang, those ears constantly moved from front to back; back and forth, back and forth.

When Willie’s older sister Charlotte, disappeared from the scene, I asked her about her sister. I had no idea that Charlotte was old enough to marry but that’s exactly what happened. Charlotte had married and moved off to her own home.

My curiosity perked as I realized the mysterious horse, in Willie’s back yard, belonged to Charlotte. “What about Charlotte’s horse? Is she going to take her?” All I got for an answer was, “I doubt it”.