On Horseback

Tomboy.

That's how the people describe me. I'm not surprised. I was raised without a mother. I was taught how to be more of a boy. I didn't seem to mind it at all, well, until I got to a certain stage in my life. That's when I had to ask questions. But not just to anyone. To someone I could trust, like my best friend.

When I was younger, I felt as though I owned the world. I loved everything about it. The trees and the flowers. The fresh scent of the sea blowing into my nostrils. The heat-giving sphere called the sun. Yes, I felt as though I owned everything that was in existance. I was at peace and at ease. Life was wonderful; fabulous; irresistable. However you wanted to put it. I was a happy girl.

My mother and father owned a ranch. The day I was born was the seventh anniversary of the animal farm. Since I was raised in such an environment, my interests and pastimes were different, too. I enjoyed going outside and chasing the cows and throwing rocks at the poor sheep. I even frightened the horses from time to time, and they'd come charging at me, I, running in the opposing direction. My mother had to lecture me, even though I was still as young as I was ever going to be.

Horses were apart of my interests. I often named the newborn colts that wandered throughout the farms, grazing at their new found lives. Sometimes, if my father was brave enough to trust me, I'd be saddled up onto one of the horses, and then take off around the entire ranch. I'd always scream, "Yeehaw! Giddy up, giddy up, YIPPEE!!" My mother would take pictures of me from her special place outside of the fields. My father would be out there, too, afraid that he might get hit by one of the racing horses one day.

Flowers were something that I enjoyed. I always wanted to plant them around the ranch, but we didn't have any planting soil at the time. Even though the fact of the lack of soil saddened me, I was not overly devastated. Flowers were just an inspiration to me.

My brother, Gray, was another piece of my life that was inspirational. Even though I knew that he'd never always be there for me, I still loved him. My father called it an early brother-to-sister bonding. He always blabbed that in a few years, Gray and I would be so different, we may not even be talking to each other anymore. I dreaded the thoughts, which eventually turned into fears.

But the fears of my brother and me parting changed when my mother had an accident. One of our horses, an old ugly, rough and mean one, threw her from the saddle. She broke her spine. I was horrified. What would I do? Well, nothing most likely, as I was only four-years-old at the time. She was rushed off to a hospital. A hospital far away from where our ranch was located. I never saw her pretty face again.

After my mother's death, I was devastated. I never wanted to leave my house again. I stayed locked up in my room for a long time, until, one day, I had the courage to go outside, and take a long look around. Nothing had changed out there. My father acted as if his wife was still living with us and Gray was...well, the same in ways. But he didn't talk as much as he used to anymore. I was sad again, but knew that when Gray made up his mind to do something, he never changed it.

He NEVER changed it. Once he made up his mind, he made up his mind.

Work around the ranch continued to run smoothly and the same. From time to time, I'd get a nasty vision in my head that my poor mother was dying all over again. I shivered at the shock. It frightened me so. I'd try and hide by running into the barn -just to find the animals charging at me- and then running into the house I'd come out of fifteen or twenty minutes ago.

Then, I'd sneak but outside and wonder if I was just being foolish. I knew I was. I'd get back to work by weeding around the ranch and petting the animals. I enjoyed my "new" life, but nothing much had changed, except that we were short one family member. That's the way I wanted it to be. So, I tried to remain calm.

And I did remain calm. I wanted to become the little girl that everyone knew. And I finally only worried about my mother in shifts. When I went to bed or when I wet the bed, (a terror to all four-year-olds) and when I didn't get picked up by my daddy. Otherwise, I was feeling fairly normal, again. When I turned five, I began to feel more at ease again. Even though I would never feel the same again, I pretty much reverted back to the way my life had been beforehand.

Then, one day, on the 24th of Summer, a little boy appeared at the Old Man's Farm. The Old Man, as many of us called him, was a farmer, the farm located next to my ranch, the Green Ranch. I was curious to meet the little boy, so I visited the farm one day, when he was out in the fields, looking at the growing crops. "Hello," I said to him. I must have alarmed him, because his head flew up as if someone had just stuck an extremely sharp needle into his funny bone. "Umm...who are you?" the boy asked me in a funny tone. I smiled at him. "I'm the girl from the ranch over there." The boy looked over at my ranch and smiled. "I'm pleased to meet you." We shook hands.

And a whole new friendship began.

Everyday he came over to the ranch. We did as much as we could, for he was only staying until the day of the Cow Festival, which was held on Fall 4th. We would go various places. The beach was one of our favourite hangouts. We went there almost everyday. But, on rarer occasions, we'd head up Moon Mountain. It was a beautiful mountain, even though it wasn't the tallest mountain around. We'd roll down the hills that carried us down the mountain.

"Isn't this fun?" I'd ask him every so often. He was a quiet boy most of the time, and only answered to "yes" or "no" questions a lot of the time. But this time he spoke to me. "Yeah, I feel great. I'm so happy that I met you." I gave the biggest smile I'd ever expressed since my mother's passing. He certainly was a nice boy.

Other times, we'd be escorted by my father into the village, which was named Flower Bud. We visited the flower shop often, due to my interest in plants and nature. We also visited the bakery often, so that we could chew and munch on some of the village's best tasting pastry. I felt like I was in heaven whenever I bit into the cherry of a vanilla cake or a chocolate chip of a chocolate chip cookie. Even the crust of the caramel pie put me on cloud nine.

But was it the pastry? The flowers? Or was it...the boy?

After my thoughts on him began to change, we spent more and more time together. Swimming became a full-time job and racing around the village square was also enjoyable. We did very little site-seeing, for we were still both so young, but a whimsical visit to the pond or Mayor's mansion was common.

One morning, when the boy came by, I rustled around in my pocket, and pulled out a music box. "What is this?" he asked me. I shrugged. "Daddy says that it plays music. I don't know how it works, but you're supposed to give it to someone who you like." And at this age, "like" didn't have the meaning that it had when you become older. "Like" as in super like as a friend, or are even flirtatious with. "Cool. I like it," he said to me. He pressed something on the music box that made a song start playing. I was shocked. "How did you do that?!" I gasped. He shrugged. "I dunno."

It was the most gorgeous song that my ears had ever listened to. One of my favourite parts of the song went, 'Dance Under The Moon', and since I didn't think it had any title, that's what I called it.

"Why don't we call this song 'Dance Under The Moon'?" The boy looked confused. "Why?" "Because whenever the music becomes very high, the people on it start saying, 'Dance Under The Moon'." The boy nodded. "Okay. If you want." He put the music box on the ground, and then asked me, "So, do you want to dance then?" I blushed. Either that, or I began to get a sunburn. "Umm...are you sure?" He grinned and said, "Why not?"

I didn't know what love meant when I was five-years-old. But I was told that it was something strong. Nothing could ever break through it. Not pain, not suffering and not even your own parents, despite what they say about your love interest.

He was an interesting boy, though. He had many strange interests and was basically head-over-heels for farmwork. He always told me that he was going to be the greatest farmer ever when he got older. "Just you watch!" he exclaimed. "If I don't become the greatest farmer in existence, I'll have to send for the little crickets!" He made claw-like hands and raced around the ranch. I laughed, not knowing what he had said. He then began jumping over fences, literally shocking me. "Whoa, be careful!" I called out to him. He winked at me and let out a small chuckle.

Besides the farming, swimming, site-seeing and pastry stuffing, there was one other thing we did. Ride one of my father's horses. We snuck into the barn in the middle of the night, and got out the biggest horse. And he was BIG. Getting onto him was one the most difficult parts of riding. And since we were so much younger, it would take twice as long.

"Need any help there, Red?" he asked me. That was the only time he had ever called me Red. "Yes, please," I replied, and I grabbed his hand, and we were both on horseback. The view was spectacular from atop the living creature. We both began to ride the horse around, and eventually he ran straight out of the field!!

Lord, that wasn't good. We were headed straight for the beach and the water when the boy pushed me off. We both landed in the sand while the farm animal stopped right in front of the water, which he must have thought, "What is this?!"

We had a lot of fun. A lot of fun.

Finally, the summer ended.

I didn't want him to go. I would be alone again. Without my mother. Even with my father and brother, I didn't feel whole. I wanted him to stay. I liked him. I know and knew that I did. But I didn't have to worry too much yet, since he wasn't leaving for another five days. So, on Fall 4th, I invited him up to the mountains one last time.

"What did you want to tell me?" he asked me as we approached the heel of the mountain. "Umm...could I ask you a question?" I asked the boy. He nodded. "Will I ever see you again?" His eyes filled with tears. "You know, I think that I'll miss you, too. I haven't met someone as sweet as you in my whole life." I was touched by his words, even though we were both only five-years-old. I began chuckling for a moment and said, "Also, before you leave, do you want to climb that tree and go up the mountain one last time?" He chuckled, too, and said, "Okay."

It would have turned out to be a cute scene, except that I had to fall down on him.

"Yikes!" I shouted as I let go of the tree branch. I landed on the boy, and we both plummeted to the ground below. CRASH! Uggh, curse my stupid grip, it just ruined the sweetest part of my life. I was sitting on his back and he burst out laughing. I got tears in my eyes, but then started laughing, too.

"That didn't work out to well," I told him, lifting him up. He stuck his tongue out at me, and asked, "Want to try again?" I gave another one of my super-duper smiles. "YEAH!"

I began climbing the tree again, shortly being followed by the boy. But with my next move...

...I was shocked. The next thing I did, was lose my grip again, but this time I went flying off the other end of the tree. The boy screamed as I landed on my forehead. He came rushing down beside me and shouted, "Are you okay?!" I managed to get up, and said, "Just promise me if you come back, you'll be the first to climb the trees." He burst out laughing again, and we hurried back to my ranch where my father put a bandage on my forehead.

"You're going to have a bruise there, sweetie," he told me. I put my head down. "I know, but we were just having fun." My father understood me, and said, "I suppose you're going to go back outside one more time before your friend leaves." I decided that that would be the best choice.

I opened the door and we walked out into the field. "I'm so stupid, how could I lose my grip twice? And all in less than three minutes?" He gave me an odd smirk and said, "No worries. I don't mind. I may have a scratch, too, but climbing trees in the dark isn't the smartest thing to do." I nodded and agreed on that. "Well, since you'll be leaving soon, do you want to keep the music box?" He looked into my eyes. "Yes. I could take it." A thought hit me as I was handing it over to him. "If you ever come back, give the music box to me. I'll know that it's you. I'll know that you're the one that I met when I was five. I'll know. I know I'll know." He sighed. "Okay." He paused for a minute and then said, "Don't worry. WE WILL be together again, someday." All of a sudden, his grandfather came to the ranch. "It's time to go." The boy looked at me and said, "I hope this is goodbye just for now." I nodded. "I hope so, too." His grandfather and him went to the beach. I followed their lead, curious of where he was going.

As he boarded the boat, I hid behind a tree and watched them get his baggage packed. Tears welled in my eyes. I couldn't let him go. And...the boy...THE BOY? Oh, lord, that's what I've been calling him the whole time!!!

The boat docked out of the marina, and I ran for the dock. "WAIT!" I called out to him. The boy turned and looked at me. "Goodbye!" he shouted and waved. I then called out to him, "You never told me your name!" If I remember correctly, he looked shocked. I heard him shout, but I never caught what he had said. I couldn't believe it.

I walked back home. I felt gloomy. After the week and a half that we had spent together, I hadn't even asked for his name. Nor did he ask for mine. I felt strange and stupid at the same time. I hoped that he'd keep his promise and return one day.

Time started to pass. Days. Weeks. Months. Years. Even a decade went by. I couldn't remember the boy anymore. I also started to think differently. My mother was dead, but I was beginning to feel very optimistic. I never thought about death or worrying about the small things in life. I was cheerful now, very cheerful. I always wanted to look on the bright side of things. I couldn't be small anymore.

So I wasn't.

I opened up.

And I became who I am.

And at long last, after so many more years, as if a miracle came into my life, that boat came back to the marina once more, but I didn't care. But I would care. For that boat was carrying the boy whom promised me that he would return one day. The one who promised me that we would be together again, in the future. And I didn't even remember him. I suppose this is the year when things were going to turn around for me. I would re-build what fell down on me all those years ago. And I would do in just one-hundred and twenty days.

I knew what I was up against. I needed to find the innerself of me and let all of my sorrows get flushed down the toilet. I couldn't let my weeping from time to time stop what I wanted the most. I wanted the boy. I wanted him badly. We weren't going to lose each other after waiting for...oh, what was it now?

Fifteen years.

I waited fifteen years. And I knew that he would return. I believed in him. But the most important thing was that I believed in myself. If there was no me, then there would be no belief. He was back. He was finally back!

This is where he came in.

And changed me life, once again, forever.

This is my story.

And my name is Ann.

AUTHOR'S NOTES

Ann did a bit of rambling :P I promise I won't do that again. Hope you liked it, Chapter 1 will be coming soon! :)