for those of you who may be interested in what dysphonia is.cathy.. at 2:09 is what ruby's voice sounded like.
Saturday, April 7, 2012
American Haiku
The field: Brussel Sprouts!
The story reads:... 'beans'...
The Truth? Does it matter?
The story reads:... 'beans'...
The Truth? Does it matter?
Brush With Death-Two Redux for Rosie...
The cowboy smiled out from under the Stetson. "Nice to meet you," he said. I was drawn to him immediately. His manner, his voice, even the hat were so similar to my ex's. Why did I think of my ex? This fellow had the swagger, not the height. The drawl was the same. The easy way he connected with his eyes and his stance. Just like my ex. What was I doing thinking of him anyway? I was very newly, and happily, married. My sailor husband had just gone to sea after our week-long honeymoon. I was missing him. Not the ex!
But, there was something so familiar about this stranger. He unlatched the back gate of the rickety trailer and my big old Percheron mare, Lady, jumped in. Her weight added to the trailer and made his truck bed dip. Next came a horse slightly larger but, slightly thinner, Glory. Old and steady, these two squeezed in and fit themselves tightly into a trailer too small for them. The cowboy said, "They seem pretty agreeable. I guess they'll be okay. If they haul quiet, we'll be fine. I didn't know they were so big. This trailer is built for Mustangs."
He was doing his friend, who ran the horse camp, a favor. I was doing a favor, too. I was loaning my old retired draft horses to the camp because they would remain unperturbed by whatever the kids might try, and they would love the carrots and grooming which came with the lessons. It was a good deal. The stable was a short forty miles down the coast highway. This would be an easy trip.
I climbed into the cab next to him, my sister squeezed in against the door. It was a tight fit for the horses and for us, too. But, it was fun to be on the road again, moving horses. My mind easily slid back two years to the times I had spent with my first cowboy. I remembered lighting his cigarettes for him while he drove, even though I didn't smoke. I could smell the smoke and horse sweat from those times. Then, I realized, that was part of what I was finding so attractive in this new cowboy. Well, not so new, actually. Up close, I noticed he was older than my man. But, strong and sinewy... and, then, his hand came to rest on my thigh. It seemed natural.
Then, it moved on to the radio dial and country music filled the air. My body was reacting now to those memories; the music, the feel of the breeze coming off the ocean through through an open window, and missing the sensual contact of a man. I was glad my sister was there to thwart any possible weakness I might experience on this trip, with this man. It wasn't going to happen. But, the banter continued. The delight in each other's company, the rapport, so familiar and enjoyable, continued.
The truck sped along the easy, rolling hills. He drove, talked, laughed and grinned. On any other day, in any other place, this might have been the start of something. Something dangerous. But, not today. Not with me newly married. Not with my sister here with me. The thoughts were filling my head, distracting me from the sensations my body was experiencing.
Then, we reached the crest of the longest grade on our ride. The half mile of highway stretched out in front of us with long drop offs on either side. To the right, the ocean forty feet down. To the left, the green of bean fields thirty feet below the cliff. And, in the middle, a thin strip of highway with cars traveling up the hill.
Suddenly,
"I'm going too fast," the cowboy says through clenched teeth, as he tries a down shift to slow our speed. We can feel the trailer swaying from side to side behind us, pulling the truck back and forth as we plummet down the grade. "They're too heavy," he says. "Gotta try something..." My sister's frightened eyes meet mine as I glance past her at the side of the cutout in the hill, and it gets closer as he drags the trailer against it. "Damn, that shoulda worked," he swears. Once again, he forces the truck from the left lane back against the hill on the right and it scrapes the rocks. Debris is swirling. Cars coming up are leaving the roadway, dodging us and wary of the cliffs. We have no such options. The truck has lost the battle and the trailer is pushing it into a spin. Now the heavy trailer is pulling the truck. I see the field below where we are headed. "Relax," I tell my sister knowing the worst thing we can do now is tense up. The weight of the heavy horses in back swings the truck around and now I can see the sky. The truck is being pulled trailer first, backward, over the edge. And then, we stop. The now empty trailer dangles over the cliff and the truck tires are stuck in a berm at the side of the road.
Everything is quiet, very quiet...and then everything is action. He's out of the cab running down the highway, going to the horses. My sister and I crawl out hand in hand. Cars are coming to a halt around us and the horses struggle in the middle of the road where they have landed after their halters were snapped by the force of the spin. The weak trailer gate was no match for their weight and they were dragged with the trailer and, luckily for us, dumped out before going over the edge. Lady is laying on her side breathing heavily. Glory is up, her eyes showing white and wild. She wants to get away. We tend to them, to their fear, to their fright, their incomprehension. "Easy girl, That's okay, Come on , get up now. Come on, you can do it!" Lady struggles, her legs bloody and weak. Her tendons show through where the skin has been rubbed away. Glory puts her head on my shoulder and stares off into the distance. Then with a mighty heave, Lady regains her feet. They've made it.
And the humans...we've made it, too. After securing the horses, in the parking lot at a coffee shop, we stand, he and I. "Thank you for saving our lives." He makes no funny remark, no quick retort. He simply reaches out and gathers me into his arms and we kiss. It is a profound and life affirming kiss. It is our first and last kiss.Then, we cry and cling to each other. Our escape has been miraculous. My little sister stares... wondering.
The cowboy smiled out from under the Stetson. "Nice to meet you," he said. I was drawn to him immediately. His manner, his voice, even the hat were so similar to my ex's. Why did I think of my ex? This fellow had the swagger, not the height. The drawl was the same. The easy way he connected with his eyes and his stance. Just like my ex. What was I doing thinking of him anyway? I was very newly, and happily, married. My sailor husband had just gone to sea after our week-long honeymoon. I was missing him. Not the ex!
But, there was something so familiar about this stranger. He unlatched the back gate of the rickety trailer and my big old Percheron mare, Lady, jumped in. Her weight added to the trailer and made his truck bed dip. Next came a horse slightly larger but, slightly thinner, Glory. Old and steady, these two squeezed in and fit themselves tightly into a trailer too small for them. The cowboy said, "They seem pretty agreeable. I guess they'll be okay. If they haul quiet, we'll be fine. I didn't know they were so big. This trailer is built for Mustangs."
He was doing his friend, who ran the horse camp, a favor. I was doing a favor, too. I was loaning my old retired draft horses to the camp because they would remain unperturbed by whatever the kids might try, and they would love the carrots and grooming which came with the lessons. It was a good deal. The stable was a short forty miles down the coast highway. This would be an easy trip.
I climbed into the cab next to him, my sister squeezed in against the door. It was a tight fit for the horses and for us, too. But, it was fun to be on the road again, moving horses. My mind easily slid back two years to the times I had spent with my first cowboy. I remembered lighting his cigarettes for him while he drove, even though I didn't smoke. I could smell the smoke and horse sweat from those times. Then, I realized, that was part of what I was finding so attractive in this new cowboy. Well, not so new, actually. Up close, I noticed he was older than my man. But, strong and sinewy... and, then, his hand came to rest on my thigh. It seemed natural.
Then, it moved on to the radio dial and country music filled the air. My body was reacting now to those memories; the music, the feel of the breeze coming off the ocean through through an open window, and missing the sensual contact of a man. I was glad my sister was there to thwart any possible weakness I might experience on this trip, with this man. It wasn't going to happen. But, the banter continued. The delight in each other's company, the rapport, so familiar and enjoyable, continued.
The truck sped along the easy, rolling hills. He drove, talked, laughed and grinned. On any other day, in any other place, this might have been the start of something. Something dangerous. But, not today. Not with me newly married. Not with my sister here with me. The thoughts were filling my head, distracting me from the sensations my body was experiencing.
Then, we reached the crest of the longest grade on our ride. The half mile of highway stretched out in front of us with long drop offs on either side. To the right, the ocean forty feet down. To the left, the green of bean fields thirty feet below the cliff. And, in the middle, a thin strip of highway with cars traveling up the hill.
Suddenly,
"I'm going too fast," the cowboy says through clenched teeth, as he tries a down shift to slow our speed. We can feel the trailer swaying from side to side behind us, pulling the truck back and forth as we plummet down the grade. "They're too heavy," he says. "Gotta try something..." My sister's frightened eyes meet mine as I glance past her at the side of the cutout in the hill, and it gets closer as he drags the trailer against it. "Damn, that shoulda worked," he swears. Once again, he forces the truck from the left lane back against the hill on the right and it scrapes the rocks. Debris is swirling. Cars coming up are leaving the roadway, dodging us and wary of the cliffs. We have no such options. The truck has lost the battle and the trailer is pushing it into a spin. Now the heavy trailer is pulling the truck. I see the field below where we are headed. "Relax," I tell my sister knowing the worst thing we can do now is tense up. The weight of the heavy horses in back swings the truck around and now I can see the sky. The truck is being pulled trailer first, backward, over the edge. And then, we stop. The now empty trailer dangles over the cliff and the truck tires are stuck in a berm at the side of the road.
Everything is quiet, very quiet...and then everything is action. He's out of the cab running down the highway, going to the horses. My sister and I crawl out hand in hand. Cars are coming to a halt around us and the horses struggle in the middle of the road where they have landed after their halters were snapped by the force of the spin. The weak trailer gate was no match for their weight and they were dragged with the trailer and, luckily for us, dumped out before going over the edge. Lady is laying on her side breathing heavily. Glory is up, her eyes showing white and wild. She wants to get away. We tend to them, to their fear, to their fright, their incomprehension. "Easy girl, That's okay, Come on , get up now. Come on, you can do it!" Lady struggles, her legs bloody and weak. Her tendons show through where the skin has been rubbed away. Glory puts her head on my shoulder and stares off into the distance. Then with a mighty heave, Lady regains her feet. They've made it.
And the humans...we've made it, too. After securing the horses, in the parking lot at a coffee shop, we stand, he and I. "Thank you for saving our lives." He makes no funny remark, no quick retort. He simply reaches out and gathers me into his arms and we kiss. It is a profound and life affirming kiss. It is our first and last kiss.Then, we cry and cling to each other. Our escape has been miraculous. My little sister stares... wondering.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)