GoLightly Fiction, completed, finally

Without much ado, here it is. Thanks for reading.
Have a Happy New Year, All The Best in 2009. I hope it lifts your spirits, as the story has always lifted mine.

GoLightly - A Story of Love, Luck and Hope.

Part 12

Gen hired a private investigator with the last of the profit from her sales horses. DragonFly had fetched a very nice price, and his new owner had practically begged Gen to sell. The DragonFly went to a very nice barn, almost as big as his ego. Gen wanted a little more information on the comings and goings at Dr.Rick's. She paid for two months worth of surveillance. It was all Gentian could dare to afford, with hay prices going through the roof. Gentian hired the guy in the middle of October. She knew what her next step would have to be, if nothing came of the private investigation. The last link to GoLightly was a twelve year old girl. Gen was loathe to involve one so young in something so sordid. Gen "knew" Golly's time was either up, or coming to a cold end, but she couldn't play act with children, even for GoLightly. Children are born honest. Gen hoped Jessie hadn't learned too much from her Dad. She hoped the private eye could find the trail of Golly. Jessie was the last card Gentian wanted to play.

The P.I. discovered some interesting things, but none of the information he gleaned helped with finding Golly's location. Gentian learned who Dr.Rick's best customers were, the people who kept his considerable bills paid. Gen felt in her heart, that this rather elite group of people had masterminded the plan. Gentian and Golly had consistently kept these people from the top prizes they usually enjoyed. But where was GoLightly? The P.I. funds slowly ran out. In the middle of December, Gentian bit her lip, and called Craig with a plausible lie to bring Jessie to Touchwood for a photo shoot for Gen's next CD cover. Jessie's Mom agreed, and Gen booked the visit for New Year's Day.
GoLightly's countdown began. His luck, a house of cards, was poised, needing to fall just the right way. Sometimes good luck just needs the delicate brush of a butterfly's wing or a kitten's purr.

L's discussion with Dr. Rick went very badly. He called her later, on that cold sunny Christmas Day,and tried to charm her with season's greetings, hoping she'd consumed enough alcohol to blunt her caustic tongue. Dr. Rick tried several different tactics, and as each was met with further dismissal, he finally, brusquely said "I just called to remind you not to use that big bay horse." A long, foul stream of expletives followed. L muttered that she'd sent in the farm insurance cheque, the month before. L mentioned that she was planning a "renewal" of her current facilities. Dr. Rick replied, "Oh. Okay, fine." L snarled something else, and hung up. Dr. Rick didn't quite hear her. He didn't want to, of course. The phone tap on Dr. Rick's line had been turned off, two weeks before. L said "Everything burns, doesn't it."
No-one was listening. The horses shifted & shivered uneasily in their cold stalls.

Jessie had started volunteering at her local animal shelter when she was 10. Jessie was very tall for her age and had a curiously adult face, shaped by her lonely years. The shelter staff believed her to be 14, when she started. The Shelter started paying her after six months, to the relief of Jessie's Mom. Jessie was a prodigious worker and an avid learner. The Shelter Staff were touched that Jessie always insisted on taking only half of the money, choosing to donate the rest back to the Shelter. Jessie was thrilled by her work, and grateful for the respite from her home life. Getting paid for doing work she loved was the icing on the cake. Gen was well known at the Shelter, and had posted several "GoLightly Stolen" flyers there. Jessie had first learned about her heroine, Gentian MacFarland, through these flyers.

Christmas Day was always a low key affair at Jessie's house. Jessie's Mom and her current boyfriend would drink until incoherent, and after a TV dinner, Jessie headed off to work. She happily cleaned, fed and nursed her animals, and after completing these important duties, Jessie treated herself to a kitten and puppy snuggle. Jessie usually skipped cuddling the littlest ones, reserving her extra time for the older, lonelier, less adoptable animals. Jessie never received Christmas presents. Kitten & Puppy Snuggle was her gift to herself. The older animals remained silent, knowing their turn with her would come. It was 8:30 pm, on Christmas Day.

L was roaring drunk by Christmas afternoon. After Dr.Rick's call, she became a raging drunk. The dogs began to whine, and the horses started doing what they could to prepare. Many lay down, their fear overwhelming them, in their emaciated physical state. Some stood, poised, shivering. Some snorted, the long low snort of power and bravery & brilliance, reserved for respect and disdain, in the face of death. Ian's big bay Softy started to make sounds that made Ian's blood run cold. Emily pricked her long ears, many, many miles away. Ian remained in the barn, bringing each horse the only comfort he could. Water, a mouthful of hay, a wither rub. Ian's backbone stiffened, and the hair on the back of his neck stood up. Ian was in Softy's stall when he saw L come out, carrying a gas can. If Ian had owned a watch, he might have marked the time, for legal purposes.
It was 10 pm, on Christmas night.
For some highly evolved, powerful, lucky animals it was a lovely evening. For many other animals, it is the reason they are eaten. For animals at L's, every day was the same. Only worse.

Gentian enjoyed her Christmas as best she could. She didn't like to admit to playing favourites with her animals, and currently didn't like herself much, for "losing interest" in her other horses. Gentian fretted over such things, as she mucked, and swept and groomed and rode. Allaflame and Mystery noticed her mood, while the older horses continued eating. Christmas Day was always a good day for Gen's horses.
Horses are capable of counting good days versus bad. Once the sum of recent good days exceeds the most recent sum of bad, they can become confident in their future. Horses are an "every day" animal. Mystery had had so many good days, she'd lost count, and had happily forgotten her previous hellish days.

Billy worked with Ruff (Rough Cut) himself, as Gen had ignored the gorgeous gelding since he'd arrived. Ruff was Gen's reason for feeling guilty. One horse ignored, and she felt she'd lost interest. Billy chatted with Gen the best he could, and bored her with the Ruff's rapid progress. Ruff fancied himself a Houdini, and enjoyed appearing suddenly, in other paddocks, looking innocent. Gen smiled a little, and Billy went back to work.
As neighbours, friends, family and band members dropped in and out, the day wore on. Allaflame's first owner, Karen, and her mother Barb, came by after dinner, to much joyous nickering from 'Flame. Mystery joined in on the demands for attention.

Mystery was almost identical physically to 'Flame, although a hand smaller. The two red mares had "hit it off" instantly, and were always inseparably together out in the field. It was geting late, but Gen turned the two mares out in the nearest paddock for a moment. Karen got her camera out, but of course the batteries had died. Allaflame was now off for the season, and loved gossiping with the older mare. Both Gen & Billy had remarked on their afternoon "bitch & squeal" tea parties. They'd graze, and chat, sip water, and repeat. The two mares seemed to have a lot to say to each other. Billy swore that Allaflame came in one afternoon, absolutely aghast at something Mystery had "said". Billy had needed to spend some extra time with her, to soothe away the expression with carrots and neck scratches.

Solid Red Chestnut Thoroughbred Mares. Clever and opinionated, willing to listen, fiery and reasonable. Gen and her friends loved watching her red mares as they gently discussed the places they'd been. Mystery found it hard to believe 'Flame's stories, and the feeling was mutual. Each would gasp in awe, or aghast, in turn.
The Touchwood Farm/Rescue phone rang. It was 9:30 pm. The mares were instantly still.


Part 13

Jessie had been looking forward to New Year's Day, and blissfully imagined being in Gentian's barn patting Allaflame as she carefully dialed the number she'd been left. Jessie was very proud of her new responsibility for this evening. Jessie listened to the message, the colour draining from her face. She was shaking from tip to toe as she hung up. Her mouth contorted as she suppressed the urge to vomit. Jessie called the emergency pager number for the Shelter Supervisor, on call that evening. Jessie knew how far away the Supervisor was, as she'd said to Jessie "Make sure you call me quick, it's about an hour and a half away, where I'll be. I'm sure nothing will happen, Christmas is our slowest day of the year." Jessie left her a shaky-voiced message, and then listened to the voice-message again, carefully noting the address. Jessie didn't recognize the location, a twelve year old still learning about her world's compass. She was very sure it was a very bad place, wherever it was.

Not long after her first meeting with her father and her first "pony" ride ever, Craig had taken Jessie to Dr. Rick's barn. The difference between the two places bewildered Jessie. Craig had flustered when she'd asked about the disparity of quality, and she received the usual "You don't know horses, not yet!" response. Jessie was confused by her father's quick dismissal of her questions. How could what looked good and what looked bad equal no distinction?

Jessie sat by the phone, drumming her fingers, racking her brain for anything useful she could do. Jessie was ready to go see this place, right now. Restless, she wandered down the long hallway and stopped before the lost and found board. Her famous Gen's "GoLightly - STOLEN" poster still hung there, a picture of the pair jumping a huge oxer. It was 9:30 pm, and she really should go home now. Jessie clenched her strong jaw and called her mother, lying to her for the first time ever. Then Jessie called Gen's number, and told her everything, including the pony-ride part. When she'd hung up, she had no idea why she'd blurted that out, except it seemed important. Jessie had believed her father and his dismissal of her theory, until that moment.

Ian smelled the gas, before he saw L, ranting and raving as she soaked the floors and walls and meagre wisps of dirty straw. The thickest cobwebs had been eaten long ago, as it was a now a horse barn trying to eat itself to stay alive. The dogs howled miserably, some already coughing and gagging on the fumes. The horses that could snorted and flung themselves to the back of the stalls. L was blind drunk. She didn't seem to see anything. She kept staggering forward down the long aisle, roaring at each horse as she spewed liquid & verbal & painful death. The big skinny bay started rearing, and struck out at Ian, for the first time since he'd met him. Ian knew Softy could feel his death rampaging towards them. "Hey, big Softy fella, let's take us a walk" he said with his best lilt. "Let's blow this popsicle stand, let's vamoose, take a powder". As he spoke, he walked and the big bay willingly followed his soft, safe voice.


L caught sight of Ian & GoLightly, just as she'd run out of gas, and gone back to the north barn opening to get more. She was enraged, as the barn was only about one third soaked. L screamed at Ian to stop.
Then she dropped the match. The horses started thrashing in their stalls as Ian, desperately calm, lead the big bay out to the farthest graveled ring. It was heavily gated. The first horse died just as Ian was closing the gate. He told Softy to stay put, turned and faced a swaying L pointing a gun unsteadily at his head. With purest instinctive reflex, Ian struck L in the head with the chain of his lead shank, and she dropped like a stone. He tied her to the fence, well away from the gate and gun. Ian ran back to the barn, his lungs already gasping for air. He grabbed several lead shanks and tried to close his mind to the dying sounds of horses he couldn't save. 50 miles away, horses were answering with shock and horror. We are dying. We are dying. Help Us Please. Where are You?

The blaze was reaching its' zenith as he tore open stall doors and grabbed heads, and went back to his steady calm lilting chant. C'mon, I'll help you, come with me, it's safe, please come with me. Some of the horses had died before he could reach them, from shock & fear and emaciation. The dogs had been sacrificed first, closest to the deadly match. Ian saved as many as he could, and when he was collapsed, sobbing & coughing miserably beside the huge gate, a beautiful voice asked
"Are you the hero, here?"

end part 13

Part 14 & PostScript

L had planned her Christmas atrocity very carefully, as psychopaths do. She had purchased a fire permit the week before. The first fire calls from a concerned public were therefore ignored. It took several calls for the fire and police to finally respond. That had been part of the plan. The $200.00 permit was used as evidence in her attempted murder, arson and harboring GoLightly, the stolen property, trials. Ian testified for the prosecution. At her subsequent trial on the charge of cruelty to animals, Ian was the star witness again. Jesse was allowed to carefully and quietly tell her story and Craig had no choice but to agree with his daughter.

Dr. Rick & his customers had avoided most of the charges, but they were all charged and convicted of theft over $500,000.00. L had kept very good records, it turned out. Jack Toronto had left town after the growl by Samson. He straightened up, by coming back and testifying against Dr. Rick. Jack Toronto "flew right" for the rest of his career. He did change his name to Just ForSam.
L was never to own animals again. The public outcry fueled her notoriety, and when her jail time was finally up, it was said she fled to Mexico. Gen always liked to believe the worst rumour, that she'd died in a fire. One could only hope.


PostScript

Almost a year passed. Gentian's ride today is her first since he's come home. His skin had been terribly damaged, but because of Ian's furtive treatment protocols, Golly has healed very well. GoLightly has just taken her for such a ride, she was speechless for several minutes. GoLightly gave her his gratitude, his love and his courage on that first ride at home. She'd dropped her reins, and as they flew the fields bareback, of course, first ride and all, Golly showed her what do to with him next. Run, with the courage of the wind. Jump, with the fluidity of water. Fly.
GoLightly showed Gentian she could now do anything, anything she wanted, with just a thought. GoLightly gave her his life, in her heart. Now, today.

The company of wrecks that were Touchwood Farm's biggest ever rescue, slowly became horses again.

Gen glanced over into the schooling ring, Billy was longing the "hoof" horse, "3DO", sound & comfortable again. His strange dapples glinted in the lowering sun, 16 hands of "plain dark bay". Only in certain lights would his Bend Or spots glow. 3DO circled at a trot calmly, beautifully in balance.
"Jessie, what am I doing right?" asked Billy.
"Everything."
Billy laughed "True. And now?"
"mmm, not sure."
"My hips are ahead of his, see how he stops? If I point my shoulders at his, same thing. Horses are mirrors of our thoughts and movements, Jessie, why?"
Jessie understood this one. "Herd animals, right?"
"And?" Billy waited. Jessie wrinkled her brow, thinking hard. "They watch us all the time.They know how we feel, not how we think." She stopped, looking doubtful. Billy laughed happily "Jessie, that's the best answer I've ever heard! Now, get along and get your Mystery mare ready for her opening ride with you!"
Jessie's smile lit up the entire acreage. She hurried to the old mare's stall and carefully fussed over brushing every square inch of her coppery red coat.

Mystery had, yes, a mysterious lameness issue. Every time Mystery was ridden, she had looked and felt slightly lame. Mystery was lazy in the field, and only briefly cavorted when she thought no-one was looking. Mystery was very clever. Gen & Billy didn't have the heart to really get after her, and see if she was truly lame in the field or not. Gen's veterinarians were stumped, and couldn't give any good medical reason for the lameness. Mystery had needed a lot of patience in her re-schooling, learning all over again that saddle and bridle could mean a good thing. Gentian had supervised her re-fit & training, and had earned a rarely given compliment from Billy. "Mystery's nicely broked again, Gen." Four words, and they always meant a lot.

Of the seventy horses Ian had worked with, only 19 survived the ordeal, twenty, if Mystery was counted. Jessie had helped in their rehabilitation, and successfully ridden all of them, except Mystery. Gentian had finally learned where all of Dr. Rick's broken-down rejects had ended up. That any of them survived was a pure miracle of good conformation & powerful genetics.

Mystery looked at her new rider with gentle amusement, and shook her pretty head, impatiently rattling the cross-ties. Gen watched Jessie out of the corner of her eye, not wanting to let Jessie know she watching. Or Mystery, for that matter. Jessie carefully tacked Mystery up, and gently gave her sparkling coat a final rub, stretching the mare's front legs, to guard against girth rubs. Mystery looked straight at Jessie,and then Mystery slowly, deliberately, touched her nose to a spot above her right knee, on her "sore" leg. Jessie gently kissed and polished the spot. The little old mare chuckled a nicker of thanks. Mystery's lameness disappeared that very instant, forever.
If Gen hadn't seen it with her own eyes, Billy wouldn't ever have believed it. No-one but Mystery knew, that the mare had been pointing to the spot where L had kicked her. Once her Jessie fixed it, the spot stopped rankling in the mare's honest mind.

As Gentian watched Billy teaching Jessie, she was overjoyed all over again at just how many geniuses had been rescued that terrible night.

Most all novice riders have a universal bad habit of looking down at the horse or the ground. Jessie, instinctively, never did. Jessie knew she was on a animal that could fly. Horses never look down, except to eat. They look forward towards their future.
Gentian had been trained by many great horsemen. The tears stood in her eyes, watching her newly adopted daughter riding the old red mare.

Gentian looked over at Ian, working Ruff for Billy. The tired, frightened man she'd first met on his knees, had become Billy's irreplaceable extra right hand, almost overnight. Ian caught her eye, and smiled.

Gen blushed to the backs of her ears. GoLightly flatulated noisily, before turning back to his hay. Golly had a big show coming, he could feel it in his hooves. GoLightly never looked down, except to eat.

Samson destroyed some freshly planted flower beds. He still had lots of work left to do. Rusty & Emily cuddled, awaiting their turn for attention.

Allaflame & the rest of the herd grazed, content. They were all having another very good day.


The End

To Horses. To You.