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Post by Jared Martins on Jun 4, 2010 14:06:44 GMT -5
The day was getting closer to the afternoon hours and the fence still hadn't been fixed, which would be a problem for when the students got out of class and made their way to the barns and pastures. Over Jared's shoulder was two long boards of solid wood and around his waist hung a tool belt full of everything he was going to need to mend the fence. It was only in the upper 30s but sweat was building on Jared’s brow from the weight of the wood. His hands were covered with old black riding gloves that had seen better days to prevent splinters from getting into his fingers. His boots sloshed through the grass while making his way to the foal’s pen hoping the stable hands had enough common sense not to stick the foals in there with the fence being busted on one side.
Jared’s normal jeans were already stains around the knee area from crawling around the shed earlier looking for the tool belt. That thing always seemed to grow a pair of legs and wonder off. He’d found it under one of the tables where the grooming supplies were kept. Getting closer to the pasture, he ground his teeth together in frustration before brushing it off. Not only were the foals in the fence, but Cobalt was peeking out through the new opening. “Cobalt!” The colt glanced up, his ears alert as he stared up at Jared with a very innocent face. “Back up.” He shook his head and neighing in a high pitched tone then took off running. Throwing down the boards, Jared unhooked the lasso from his waist and quickly made a loop in it to catch the fleeing baby horse. Cobalt was still young, but he was made to run but it didn’t take long for Jared to get within reach of the colt and throw the lasso in the animal’s direction. The rope landed around its neck and stopped him from running any closer to the Stallion’s pasture area.
Cobalt let out a loud neigh and stomped his hooves at being stopped from getting closer to the Stallion’s pasture. He was starting to think he could take on another horse much large and older than him. “In a few more years, you’ll be over there, but not today.” Jared’s personal horse, Storm, lifted his head from the pasture and stared at colt down. If there was one thing the two of them shared it was the same stern stare that could have stopped a charging elephant in its tracks. That look gave Cobalt enough know how to turn around and stand in front of Jared. Leading the colt back to the pen, he shooed the others back to prevent another escape. “In you go.” Lifting the lasso from around the horse’s neck, the black colt snorted and trotted back in.
Wiping the sweat from his forehead, Jared pulled the new wood boards over towards the fence and did a quick inspection of the old wood. It had rotted away at one point and one of the foals, likely Cobalt had kicked it down leaving a hole in the bottom two boards large enough for any foal to wiggle out of. Taking out a hammer, Jared started to pull out nails from the old panels that were still connected to the post. The nails took some muscle work to dig out of the rotting wood and he had to stop every now and then to shoo another foal from the opening.
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Post by chris on Jun 4, 2010 14:59:00 GMT -5
Chris had wandered down to the pastures right after lunch. All he really wanted to do was get outside and be in the open, but curiosity about the horse he had been assigned to had led him towards the pastures, instead of the woods or the lake. He could still not imagine ever getting on a horse, but the way the horses roamed around intrigued him. Some of the time they were confined to a stable, but once let out they enjoyed nothing more than being out in the open. That was something he could relate to, even if he knew next to nothing about horses.
But when he reached the corner of the stallion pens, Chris stopped dead in his tracks and was jerked out off his thoughts by a sight he thought belonged to movies. Jared Martins actually roping in a fowl, or yearling, or colt or filly, or whatever it was - or was called - like he was John Wayne in one of the movies his dad sometimes used to watch.
That was so out of the world - or at least out of the world Chris was accustomed to. He could only hope no one would ever expect him to do something like that. He didn't mind getting his hands dirty, but only when it came to things that didn't move, not creatures that could fight back, could bite, or crush him beneath their sheer weight.
While he was still struggling with his surprise, Jared was already back to mending the fence, and that, at least, was something Chris could connect with. And from the looks of it, it was a job that needed an extra pair of hands.
Chris walked up closer, but still keeping some distance between himself and Jared when he stopped. He had always loved doing something with his hands, something productive, something he could actually look at and say to himself 'I did this'. Offering some help here was the most natural thing to Chris and overruled his awe at what he had just seen.
"Need some help with that, Mister Martins?"
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Post by Jared Martins on Jun 4, 2010 16:46:00 GMT -5
Not knowing Jared had held and audience during his lassoing action, he’d acted as he normally would with the horses around and no people. Under his breath, he hummed a gentle tone to keep the foals from trying to escape again. The hammer continued to dig into the wood and pull out one nail after another. Why were there so many nails in the wood? Oh yeah, they were hoping to prevent this problem with the babies getting loose in the large school.
Dropping the dirty nails on the ground out of reach for his own feet, Jared heard the voice that offered help. Placing the hammer on the ground, he glanced over at the boy and looked him up and down. Christopher, or Chris as he preferred stood about a yard away. That boy was a very interesting story to tell. “Help would me much appreciated.” Waving the boy over, he picked the hammer back up and held it out of him. “Mind getting the last few nails out? I need to measure this thing to make sure the boards are the right size.” His voice was low but very strong given how old his face was, but his eyes held a youthful element to them.
Placing the hammer at the ground for Chris, he pulled out a measuring tape and took the measures of the space between the post. “Please, don’t call me Mister Martins. Jared works perfectly fine by me.” Nodding at the number he got, he moved back to the other boards to take their length. Perfect fit.
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Post by chris on Jun 4, 2010 23:53:29 GMT -5
"Of course I don't mind." Chris took a step forward and squatted down to pick up the hammer, glad that Jared kept his distance. Glad but not surprised. He had heard the speech Jared had given everyone, had heard him mention that he had files on everyone.
That wasn't a problem with Chris. At least a dozen doctors and shrinks back home had his whole life story on file. One person more or less didn't really matter. It wasn't like he had some terrible secret to hide, some horrible past mistake the world should never know and Chris figured that by the time he turned twenty, a dozen more people would have files on him and his medical history anyway. It was just a fact of life he had to accept.
Chris pushed the crowbar end of the hammer under the head of a nail and gave it a little pull, but the thing didn't move and he grinned to himself. He made sure the hammer was firmly in place and pushed down on the end of the handle hard, adding the weight of his body to the force of his muscles. The nail came out like a hot knife through butter. Learning about leverage in physics classes sure paid of, he thought and his grin widened.
Glancing at the owner of Willow Brooke he discovered him a little distance away, measuring the boards. "Okay... Jared," Chris remarked, uncertain if the older man was really serious about that. To him Mister Martins sounded more like what an authority figure should be called, and with some students Jared would probably need all the authority standing he could get, to keep them in line. But if he wanted it this way, Chris wasn't complaining.
He pulled out two more nails and placed them with the others, before he looked up at the sound of a foal neighing somewhere close. A chestnut-colored little thing with a large white splotch on her head. He had to search his memory for what Kirsten had called it when they had been here together. A blaze, something like that, yes that was it. He had paid attention to it when Kirsten had shown him her own horse, whose markings were somewhat similar.
"Umm..." Watching the horses in the pasture had given rise to a question he couldn't quite figure out for himself. "How do you actually get the horses back from here to the stables, Jared? You can't lasso them all, can you?"
Just asking made him feel a little stupid, but the question had been nagging at his mind ever since he had first come here. The horses seemed happy out here, so how did anyone get them to move back into the small enclosures their stalls were? He couldn't stop wondering about that.
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Post by Jared Martins on Jun 5, 2010 8:33:41 GMT -5
It was good to see that not every student was going to try to fight with Jared. After so many years it got old and wearing on his body and mind. It wouldn’t have surprised him if he had a heart attack or stroke one day from all the stress the place put on him and him on his own head. “Glad to hear it.” His voice was a little rough from the amount of work he was thinking that needed to get done, but it wasn’t meant to offend Chris. Willow Brooke may look like it was running smooth to students and some staff members but under that veil Jared was receiving a lot of pressure from state officials to keep the students in check. Some wanted guards around the camp to stop students from leaving so freely seeing the place as more of a jail then a nurturing camp for wounded students with troubling pasts.
Watching Chris for a bit, a smirk began to appear on his lips seeing him struggle with the first nail. “Some are rusted over and need some force to dig out.” When the first one came out without much of a problem on the second try, he nodded in approve. “There you go.” Turning his attention back to the boards, he marked off with little ‘X’s were the new nails were going to go through the wood. He needed to get this job over with so he could check the barn doors and make sure that they were in good shape for another month. If not, that would be another call he’d have to make into town or the next city over for a contractor to fix. Mending fences and training horses, Jared could do, but doors took a little more precision and time then what he had to give in a single day.
The uncertainty in Chris’s voice at saying Jared’s name almost made him laugh, almost. He sat back on the balls of his feet and glanced over at the kid. “This old guy doesn’t need another reminder of how long he’s been around. It might seem strange when thinking about some of the people here giving me a hard time and that I might need that small authoritarian power, but after so long my voice and sharp tongue tins to keep ya’ll in place that majority of the time.” Not matter how tough some students were, being yelled at wasn’t fun. But Jared didn’t yell. No, he got very calm when he was pissed off. So calm it was scary and suspenseful waiting for him to explode.
The sound of the foals neighing forced Jared to lift his head and check the gap in the fence. “If one of them gets too close to that opening try and shoo them back.” Having a better idea, he reached into his pocket and pulled out a plastic bag filled with a half dozen small white cubes. Standing up, he started to move closer to Chris, but stopped and thought better of it. There wasn’t an ounce of true meanest in Jared’s body that would want to put him in an uncomfortable situation by being too closer to someone. “This might help better yet.” He did a light those to the teenager so the bag landed next to his leg. “Throw one of those into the pasture as far as possible with distract them.” Sitting back down in the grass, he rechecked the board sizes, nodded while picking one up to get close to the fence with it. He took his time so that Chris would have time to move away and get his personal space back.
Placing the board down, he listened to the question with a smirk on his face. Chris was new to horses so it was natural for someone like that to ask questions. That’s what Jared was there for, answers and support to anyone that wanted it. “If you look closely some of the horses have halters on their heads, we place a lead on them and take them back into the stalls. Sometimes one or two at a time. Others are easier to get back to the stables and only need a guiding hand. The stubborn ones have to lured close enough with some treat, sugar cube, carrot, an apple maybe, then attached to a lead.” His hand snapped open a small pouch on the tool belt and counted to make sure he had enough nails. With that done, he took the other hammer from his belt and worked on the other side of the board to pull out the nails. “No, I can’t lasso them all. It was an emergency from Cobalt trying to make a break for the Stallion’s pastures.”
Jared pulled out the last of those nails and grabbed hold of the rotten board before that half fell on the ground. Throwing it off to the side, he glanced to see how much progress Chris had made. But he seemed to be distracted by the horses. Which was fine, he was there to work with the horses not do manor labor on a fence.
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Post by chris on Jun 6, 2010 0:33:52 GMT -5
Chris looked down at the small bag tossed at his feet and nodded, then listened to Jared explaining about using treats to make the horses more cooperative when they needed to be taken back to the stables. Sooner or later he would have to get a little closer to the horse they had assigned him, and having something ready to both distract the horse, and make it more cooperative, sounded like a good plan, so he made a mental note to pick up an apple or two and some sugar cubes at the mess hall.
"Cobalt?" He looked at the horse Jared had roped in a few minutes ago and grinned. The foal didn't look worse for wear from its recent experience and was running around at the far end of the pasture, playing with some of the other young horses. "Nice name." It seemed a good fit to Chris - dark and glossy was how he would have described the foal.
But on that thought he turned back to work. He had promised Jared his help, and while he was, by nature, somewhat lazy, he did like to get his hands dirty - and no one had ever accused him of not being good to his word, once it had been given.
"Can you hold the board... Jared? I am almost done here." He set the hammer to pull out another one of the very few nails that now held the board in place at his end and looked over to the older man. Now that he had a chance to talk to him a bit, Jared didn't seem so bad. He was just a guy running a horse farm and trying to help kids get over their problems. There was a certain edge to him, but all in all he was just a regular guy, as far as Chris could tell, someone not so different from his own dad, and certainly more approachable than some of the doctors Chris had been sent to.
"I know nails are cheap and fast to apply, but have you thought about using wood screws for this? The new boards are pretty fresh, and they will expand and contract at a different rate than the old posts here." He laid his hand on the fence post and ran his fingers over the rough surface gently, careful not to draw a splinter. "Screws would do a better job holding everything together."
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Post by Jared Martins on Jun 7, 2010 16:17:52 GMT -5
Glancing up at the same time to see the little colt hopping around with the others, Jared chuckled very softly. The site wasn’t new to him, but he took too much delight from horses to not find the foals comical in their own way.“Yeah, I think that one got named by one student that saw him the second he was born here.” Not every horse was a rescue one, some were born and raised on Willow Brooke. They weren’t purebreds but they were loved and cared for as if they were. “Pretty amazing how many timed I’ve had to drag him back to the proper pasture in the past month.”
The sight of Chris actually working did clear up some of the judgments Jared might have made about him not fully liking people in his space. Maybe if he was distracted by work or something he could get passionate about there wouldn’t be a problem. It was only a guess that he’d have to put into a more intense test after the fence was fixed. The fence took priority in the owner’s mind since it kept the foals from getting into too much trouble.
“Can do.” Jared grunted slightly while lifting the board up feeling something jab at the back of his shoulders. He was starting to feel his age catch up to him, but that was nothing new after falling from horses and being kicked head on. Forcing his face to go blank and emotionless, he held the board in place for Chris to hammer at the spots. “You got it?”
“I have thought about that, but for that very reason you just said. Nails are cheap. Between the horses, ya’ll education, the teacher’s pay, and everything else there has to be minor cut backs in some place.” Jared was just being honest. He knew in the long run using screws would hold the boards in place longer than nails but right then the school was still fairly young with little income from the government and state. “That’s why the riding instructors and I nudge you students into so many competitions. One it makes some of ya’ll want to win and feel accomplice. Two, the more recognition the school gets the more money states and private investors are willing to send this way.”
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Post by chris on Jun 8, 2010 9:04:55 GMT -5
“Yeah, I got it.” Chris started to work as fast as he could without injuring himself. He was starting to sweat now and felt a trickle running down his forehead into his brow. Jared didn’t show it, but Chris would bet that the board was pretty heavy. And the sooner they finished, the sooner Chris could increase the distance between them a little bit. He was glad that Jared had taken care not to come too close so far, but he was now dangerously close to stepping into Chris’s personal space.
“Done,” he proclaimed after a few seconds, finishing with the nails at his end. He had no idea how Willow Brooke’s owner had intended to deal with this fence all by himself, but the guy had to know what he was doing, and now that he thought about it, Chris could think of one or two ways that might have worked.
“I bet it’s not a get-rich-quick scheme,” he said and took half a step aside. Now that Jared mentioned the financial situation of Willow Brooke, and he thought about it a second, Chris was actually surprised that he managed to keep the place running. He hadn’t seen half the camp yet, but one thing was for sure – Willow Brooke was a pretty big place that would eat up a lot of money.
But something else also surprised him. “And good luck getting me into any competition, unless it’s skateboarding or jet skiing.” He grinned at Jared, feeling more comfortable with the extra few inches between them, as small as the increase might have appeared to someone else.
He had had no idea that Willow Brooke students actually took part in competitions. It had to be smaller, local affairs, Chris imagined. Carting a dozen students and their horses plus several instructors all around the country sounded like a pretty unlikely thing to do.
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Post by Jared Martins on Jun 8, 2010 19:17:59 GMT -5
Grunting in reply, Jared held on to the board without rushing Chris more than he already was rushing. He didn’t need nor want anyone injured on the camp with the medical office over by his office and the closest emergency kit in the barn. He was going to have to invest in some walkie talkies…and having his cell phone on him instead of in the main building would have been best.
“Thank you.” Keeping one hand on the board, Jared made small work of the other end of the board and hammering the couple nails in. Sweat rolled down his neck as the heat began to slowly build up under the direct sunlight. Rising up to his full height, his back cracked slightly feeling his back relax from the tension it had been straining under a brief moment before. Keeping his mouth shut about the side step Chris made, Jared reached down and picked up the hammers and placed them on the tool belt to put back in the shed later.
“No, it’s not.” Jared leaned against the fence so his arms folded over the top of it while his foot rested a top of the new board, giving it a good testing with his weight. “But I’m not in this for the money.” His eyes watched out over the foals that were running around and jumping about without a care. They all seemed to be in perfect health but he needed to get Dr. Bowen out soon to check on them just in case. It needed to be done once every week or two at the latest.
A smile started to pull at Jared’s face hearing Chris’s words. “Competitions aren’t for everyone. If you feel strongly enough about not getting in one or any of them, you don’t have to.” He turned slightly to give Chris a little more attention than the horses. “I can’t force anyone to perform but anyone that wants to can.” His eyes gave Chris a good glance over trying to figure out the boy. He didn’t seem as bad as the notes Jared had been sent by doctors. In fact, aside from liking his personal space he didn’t give off any off vibes of being anything but a normal teenager. “Feel free to ask any questions you want, Chris.”
A neigh caught Jared’s attention and forced his head down to see the only true albino horse the campus had walking over to the owner. “Hey, Mr. Blue Eyes.” The white coated colt stumbled slightly since he was only 3 months old and nudged around the boards as if looking for a treat. “I got nothing, bubby. Go look at him if you want anything.” His hand gently pushed the foal toward Chris for a treat. The baby horse seemed to cry out in protest only making Jared chuckle. “Don’t take offense Chris. Mr. Blue Eyes is one of the shyest horses I’ve ever known.”
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Post by chris on Jun 9, 2010 7:57:36 GMT -5
Chris snorted, but it was not and offended or disrespectful sound, more stuck between actual amusement and puzzlement. It wasn’t that he didn’t want to get into riding competitions – he simply couldn’t, given that he had never sat on a horse before. Chris had thought Jared would have known that, that he would have figured out riding competitions were completely out of the question for Chris. But perhaps he had just been distracted by the young horses. Or… maybe he had wanted to imply that it would still be possible with some training, Chris suspected after a moment. In that case Jared would have his work really cut out for him.
“If you can find a competition that involves not actually getting on a horse, who knows?” He shrugged. Riding the horses was the whole point of competitions, as far as Chris knew.
Before he could think about possible questions, he noticed Jared’s attention being drawn away, and he followed the older man’s eyes to the foal. Unlike some of the other horses it struck Chris as pretty docile, walking, as it did, up to the fence, instead of running around like a lot of the others.
“Oh, right,” he said when the horse was nudged in his direction and protested. Of course he still had the bag of sugar cubes. Chris slowly opened the bag and took out a cube, noticing that the horse suddenly looked very attentive at him, the moment it heard the rustling sound of plastic.
But as the white colt walked over to him and tried to look through the boards, then over the fence, Chris felt uncertain what to do. The foal was tiny, compared to the full-grown horses, and there was the fence between them. Nothing could happen at all he told himself and took a single step forward, still a little too far to reach the horse. “One step at a time,” he muttered softly to himself, repeating the advice Kirsten had given him, and took a deep breath.
Chris took the final step to the fence and felt his breathing becoming faster and unsteady. Sweat started to appear on his face again, but at least not in the pouring rivers that often accompanied a close encounter with another person. Still, he wanted to get away from the fence again as soon as possible, so he reached over the boards with a slightly shaky hand and dropped the sugar cube close to the foal.
“There you are, Mister,” he rasped and stepped back from the fence, shaking his head to himself. This creature was much smaller than the adult horses, and he had no idea how he would – or could - ever approach one of those, if just getting close and personal with a tiny colt brought his anxieties to the fore.
He cleared his throat and shook his head again, this time at Jared. “This is so not gonna work.”
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Post by Jared Martins on Jun 9, 2010 14:59:51 GMT -5
The competitions weren’t a requirement for the students. Only something extra that might boost some of their want to have something they would be proud about doing. It helped some of the students feel as if they weren’t completely wasting their time at Willow Brooke if they felt the need to compete with other teenagers. The snort from Jared made him turn his head slightly seeing the look on Chris’s face that told him what he was thinking. His file had stated he’d never ridden a horse before and Jared could see that it might be more of a challenge to get him into any competitions with just that but he was also afraid of anyone coming into his personal space. That would only add to the toughness of his case.
“I’m sure there’s something you can do, Chris. But for now maybe we should just focus on you getting use to being around such large animals.” Rubbing his chin, his eyes roamed along the compound of horses in their pastures. It was going to take a bit to get the boy use to having someone that large invade his space. If his memory served him correctly, Chris had been paired up with Shadow. Not a bad horse for someone that had a hard time with anyone invading their space. That horse’s past wasn’t as murky as the others and he wasn’t known to bite or fight against any rider.
The sound of plastic had grabbed the foal’s attention and even had him walking over to see what he could get. Nodding, Jared watched while Chris took his time getting the cube to Mr. Blue Eyes. There was no joking with this teenager; he really did have a serious phobia. It would take time to overcome it, but he had high hopes it was possible.
“Chris? How you feeling?” Jared would have taken a step closer had he thought it would have helped, but from the sweat building on the boy’s brow it would have only worsen the situation. His body was visibly shaking and it worried him that he might have a panic attack. Once the cube was dropped, Blue Eyes went for it without trying to scare Chris more only wanting the treat that had been given.
“No, it is going to work.” Leaning back against the fence, Jared nodded to where the foal had run off to. “You faced your fear. Maybe you didn’t overcome it, but there’s plenty of time for that. Don’t give up.” Because he wasn’t going to give up. There had been one too many times someone in town had told Jared to stop with the camp for the students but he just couldn’t.
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Post by chris on Jun 10, 2010 8:39:18 GMT -5
Chris drew several more deep breaths and looked down at his hands. They weren’t shaking any more, and his heart beat had begun to slowly return to a normal rate. He drew a tissue from a jacket pocket and wiped his forehead, before he answered Jared.
“I feel… better now.” He looked out into the pasture and at Mr. Blue Eyes. At this distance the horse looked so small and completely harmless. Of course he had also looked harmless at close range, but while Chris was quite capable of that rational thought, his fears and anxieties were irrational, not under his control.
“But I didn’t face my fear, Jared. I faced the situation. The panic just came over me. And when it happened I got out of Dodge as fast as I could.” He shook his head again, sadly now. “It wasn’t like I was afraid he’d bite me or do me any harm.”
He clenched his hand in frustration around the bag of sugar he was still holding. How could he possibly explain how he felt inside to someone who had never been in his shoes? To buy a few more seconds of thought he tossed Jared the plastic bag. “Catch.” Willow Brooke’s owner would make better use of the treats than Chris.
“Nothing of my fear and panic is rational,” he slowly tried to explain, looking at the open space of the foal pasture again. “It all comes out of my subconscious. And… I really don’t know how to explain it to you.”
Chris cast a sideways glance at Jared and frowned. He knew he was pretty messed up – and Jared knew that too now. “Facing all those messed-up emotions and fears… I’d love to do that. But they live in a part of my brain I can’t reach. To you dealing with the situation and dealing with the fear might look like the same thing, but it’s not. Not to me.”
He turned his attention back to the foals playing in the distance. “I just feel so damn helpless about it,” he muttered. “Just one stupid accident, at the wrong time in the wrong place, and this is what I got.”
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Post by Jared Martins on Jun 11, 2010 16:42:06 GMT -5
Jared watched Chris take the tissue out from his pocket and wipe his head. A small collection of sweat had formed across his brow from the stress of the situation on his mind. Severe claustrophobia was an understatement for what the boy was suffering from. That wouldn’t stop Jared from helping him as much as he was capable for a human man. There had to be a way to help him live the average life without fearing anyone coming too close to him because if Chris kept on this path he would never touch someone again or live in a large city or even visit one.
“You sure? Need any water or something? Food maybe?” Jared kept his distance to make sure Chris really was calm enough. If the boy did lash out he was more than prepared to take a hit or two, nothing new from his current job. Between horses and teenagers a hit here and there was worth what he was trying to do for both injured parties on the campus.
Hearing Chris speak, he kept his mouth shut to let the boy get all his frustration and anger out then instead of allowing it to bottle up. His hand easily caught the bag when it was thrown at him. It was a little troubling to see it the sugar cubes back in his hand, but Jared wasn’t going to push the issue right then. If Chris needed more time to handle his fears then there was plenty of that around Willow Brooke.
When the boy finally got everything off his chest, Jared placed the bag on the post. He hoped Chris got the idea that he wasn’t going to take them back. The bag was his to keep even if he never got close to a horse again…because the odds were the act of just having the sugar cubes might help him take another step to his fears one day. “Whatever it takes, Chris. I am going to help you get over this fear. If you need more time or just a little more attention that’s what you will get.” Crossing his arms, he took a step away from Chris. “If you ever want to talk to someone, my door is open.” It was pretty corny to say, but it was true. Jared always found time for any student that came to him asking for help.
“I’m going to go throw the tools back in the shed then head over to the stallion’s pasture if you still want to talk more.” The invitation was open so that if Chris wanted alone time he was welcome to do was he pleased around the camp. “Just stay out of trouble if you don’t want to see more of me.”
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Post by chris on Jun 11, 2010 19:19:28 GMT -5
"No, I am fine," Chris dismissed the offer of food or drink. He needed neither right now.
He eyed the blue-eyed man closely and it struck him how similar Jared's eyes were to those of the young foal he had just tried to deal with, blue and shiny, only that Jared's eyes had a piercing quality that no young horse could match. But their eyes made them both stand out from the crowd.
But that observation was pushed back into the recesses of his mind as he thought about what Jared had just told him. A lot of people had tried to help him - or at least professed to that intention.
And yet... and yet he somehow felt that Jared actually meant what he said, that he didn't see him as just another case. His words were similar enough to what Chris had heard many times before, but the vibe he felt from Jared was different, more... sincere. Perhaps he just needed to trust someone, lean on someone, even if he couldn't physically lean on someone.
"I am not so sure there's anything you can do to help me, Jared," he said, doubt swinging in his voice. "But I guess I have all the time in the world." He wasn't so keen on extra attention paid to him, but being allowed to take his time - as much time as he wanted - suited him just fine.
Chris eyed the small plastic bag now resting on the fence post and noticed how Jared stepped away from it. The invitation was obvious. Chris was tempted to decline it, leave it as it was, but what if Jared wouldn't pick the bag up? If they left it where it was, one of the foals would find it sooner or later, try to gulp down the whole bag and that wouldn't be good.
Jared wouldn't let it come to that, of that Chris was certain, but while he wasn't a big fan of horses, he wouldn't run any risk, so he stepped a little closer and snatched the bag from the fence post with an arm stretched out as far as it could reach. "Guess I'll carry this for you for now."
He eyed the foals again and a hint of a smile stole onto his face. They were so carefree, just enjoying being out in the open. Cute wasn't a word that he used often, but he actually thought of them as cute right now. "Dunno if there's much to talk about," he informed Jared, his eyes still drawn away from the older man, "but if you are gonna go to the stallions, you might as well show me the horse I've been assigned. Might at least take a look."
Chris trusted that Jared knew a lot about horses, and now he knew a little bit about him, how he reacted to the close presence of anyone - or anything. If Chris trusted anyone to introduce him to the horse without making it intrusive, Jared would be the one. And if he didn't get into that part of the school he would perhaps just been shipped off to another shrink, confined to a hospital ward. Being outdoors sure beat that, so he would hold on to this place for as long as he could stand it and wasn't pushed into something.
He stuffed the bag of sugar cubes into his pocket and waved at the little white colt. "Have fun, Frankie."
He grinned at Jared, finding a little happy memory in this moment. "My mom always liked Ol' Blue Eyes." That his mom had been into swing and jazz, while his dad was into rock 'n' roll seemed to be the only thing his parents had ever clashed about, and when it happened it had always been more a friendly banter than a real clash.
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Post by Jared Martins on Jun 13, 2010 8:20:09 GMT -5
Jared nodded when his offer for food or water was declined. Fair enough. If the boy was fine as long as the tiny foal was off in the pastures running around that was fine. There had be to a way to help him overcome his problems and he was going to find a way. Giving up wasn’t in Jared’s vocabulary…it had been burned right out of the pages years ago.
“You’d be surprised by some of the people I’ve managed to help.” Tilting his head, Jared heard the doubt in Chris’s voice. “But those are stories for another day.” Giving the boy a warm smile, he pushed off from the fence starting to leave and head for the shed which held all the tack gear and tools, which was where he’d snatched the belt from.
The plastic bag just sat there for a moment in front of Chris and Jared began to wonder if he wasn’t even going to touch it. If that was the case he’d grab it later on when the boy wasn’t looking. The foals would go crazy if it just sat there in plain sight for them to gobble down. Too many might upset their stomachs when they were still growing. That would Dr. Bowen to leap down his throat for sure if he neglectfully left a bag of sugar cubes for the babies.
“Much appreciated.” Nodding his head in thanks, Jared was pleased to see that Chris had taken the bag for safe keeping. It was a start for him to step up and offer to at least hold on to the horse bribes. There just had to be some way to get him to realize not everything that came into his comfort zone was going to smother him to death.
Jared had already taking a few steps away from Chris but could still hear his words, causing him to smirk. “We don’t have to talk. Hell for all I care you can just stand there watching me tend to the horses.” As he spoke, his fingers unhooked the belt from around his waist and slung it over his shoulder, but the lasso was still wrapped around one of the belt loops just in case it was needed later on in the day. The thin strap of rope never left his side when he was working outside of the office, which even there it was close at hand for those times he had to rush out and into the fields. Nodding, he waved for Chris to head out over to the Stallion pastures. “I can do that.”
It amazed Jared that Chris knew who the horse was named after, but simply gave him a smile and a gentle nod in acknowledgment. “Imma head over to the shed and be right over to show you which one will be yours.” He took off in a light jog over to the barn; the doors were wide open to let in fresh air as the stable hands cleaned out the stalls and laid down fresh hay. Jared gave each one a small pat on the back and thanks for their work while heading to the shed.
He made sure to place the belt in its proper place but knew it would suddenly grow legs and found its way somewhere else on campus. Jared hadn’t quite figured out how or why, but figured if someone was trying to mess with him or the stable hands they were going to have to try harder.
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