Youth Readers Write

By AQHYA member Darien, New York

Darien and Lightning

“Lightning” was anxious to get out. After all, he’d been trapped in his stall for almost a week! He pranced around his stall, rolling his tongue, and let out a high-pitched whinny. I walked over to him and rubbed his neck, soothingly talking to him. “Don’t worry, you’ll get to go out.” I said. Lightning bobbed his head arrogantly, and nosed my hands for treats. I smiled and pulled out half an apple. He happily munched it, forgetting about “outside,” and calmed a little. My grandmother appeared from outside, her silver-brown hair dusted with snow.

“All right, Darien, bring him out,” she ordered, shaking the snow off her hat. I nodded and grabbed Lightning’s tattered blue nylon halter and slipped it on. I clipped a lead rope on and unbolted the stall door.

“OK, I’m coming!” I called, swinging the door wide open. Lightning yanked ahead of me, zipping out the stall door. I pulled hard on the lead rope, but not too hard, and said in a firm voice, “No!” Lightning’s ears pricked and he slowed, listening. I led him into the paddock, and closed the door behind me. It swung shut with a creak, and I unclipped Lightning’s lead rope. Lightning rose into the air, kicking out his back feet, and galloped off. Once satisfied, he lay down and began to roll, covering his once-shiny chestnut coat with wet snow and mud. I groaned. “Hey! I just groomed you!” I complained, but my eyes flashed with humor.

My grandmother called to me, and I began to clean the stalls. Each one was equally filled with muck and manure left from four days of being indoors. “Ewww,” I whispered, soft enough for my grandmother not to hear. I picked up a fork and began to sift through the dirty sawdust and manure. I’d barely gotten halfway done when my grandmother began to yell.

“Lightning! Slow down!” she called, her voice worried. I rushed out and saw Lightning headed full speed toward a patch of slick ice, his oversized pink blanket flapping in the wind. My blood turned to ice, my pulse raced, and my heart stopped. Oh no, I thought. He’d surely hurt himself or get stuck in the fence. I held my breath and bit my lip. Lightning hit the ice and fell, his legs sliding from underneath him. Lightning began to slide down the hill, heading closer to the fence.

“No! Lightning, you’ll kill yourself!” I screamed. But Lightning didn’t listen. He kept sliding, getting faster and faster. My grandmother headed into the paddock to help if Lightning got hurt. At the last minute, Lightning jumped up and sprang into the air. He landed on all fours and trotted giddily in our direction, oblivious to fact he’d almost hurt himself. I sighed, letting out all my worries. I ran out and gave him a tight hug. He snorted and licked my palms.

“You big dummy, you could have hurt yourself,” I whispered. Lightning blinked, and we locked eyes. He rolled his tongue and then trotted away. He stopped at a pile of hay and began to eat peacefully. Munch, munch. I laughed and walked away.

I’d always remember the time Lightning went sledding.

Want to tell your story? E-mail it to AQHA’s youth department.