"I’ll try to remember clothes," I said.
"Appreciated." She turned to Winnie. "You bringin' him or is he gonna find his own way?"
"I'll bring him. Can't trust him to not get lost between here and town. He'd probably end up in Kansas."
"Hey," I protested. "I have GPS."
"GPS don't work half the time out here. Cell service is shit." Winnie pushed off from the stall. "But yeah, we'll be there."
"Perfect!" Cassie checked her phone again and swore colorfuly. "Okay, for real this time, I gotta go. Jerry’s gonna kill me if I'm late again. Beau, welcome to Pawhuska, sorry it’s boring as hell, see you Thursday!"
She was gone in a whirl of blonde hair and chaotic energy, her boots clicking on the barn floor, calling out "bye!" one more time before disappearing into the sunlight.
"She’s..." I searched for the right word.
"A lot?" Winnie supplied, but her voice was fond. "Yeah, Cassie’s always been like that. We've been best friends since we were kids. She’s the only person in this town who can out-talk me."
"She seems great." I wondered how I’d never seen her if they’d been friends forever. But then again, twelve-year-old me hadn't exactly been paying attention to the local social dynamics.
"She is. Crazy as hell, but great." Winnie turned back to Daisy, running her hand down the mare's neck. "Alright, enough stallin'. Time to see if you can actually ride this horse without fallin' off and breakin' a limb."
My whole heart went to my toes. "Wait, what? I thought we were just learning to saddle her."
"Saddlin's only useful if you can ride. Come on, Sterling. Nut up or shut up."
"That is not how that phrase goes."
"It's how I say it. Now get on the horse."
BEAU
Crushing my balls
Pawhuska, Oklahoma
4:30 PM
"I said, cowboy take me away / Fly this girl as high as you can into the wild blue"
– The Chicks
***
I was currently drafting my last will and testament in my head.
Location of death: Pawhuska, Oklahoma. Cause of death: Blunt force trauma to the ego and the inner thighs.
Riding a horse, I had discovered, was nothing like the movies. In the movies, the hero vaults onto the stallion, mane blowing in the wind, galloping off toward the horizon while an orchestra swells in the background. In reality, I had spent ten minutes trying to figure out the physics of mounting a beast that was taller than my SUV (a process I absolutely butchered, nearly pulling a groin muscle), another five trying not to slide off the side like a sack of wet flour, and the remaining time feeling like my reproductive future was being systematically destroyed by a torture device disguised as leather. (My balls by the way)
"Why does this hurt so much?" I asked through gritted teeth. Winnie was leading Daisy around the corral at a pace that was technically a walk but felt like a magnitude six earthquake.
"‘Cause you’re tense. You’re stiff as a board up there," she called back, not even looking at me. "Relax your hips. Move with her rhythm."
"My hips don't know how to relax. My hips are in crisis mode. My hips have filed a restraining order against this saddle."
"Stop fighting the movement. Just roll with it."
"I don't know how to roll with a thousand-pound animal!"
