Ok well I have a ton of homework to do and I’m spending most of the day teaching, so of course the little time I actually have for said homework is being spent on FB and Email and now writing the blog. Apparently despite not having been in uni for a few years now, I’ve not lost the art of procrastination. My laundry may even get done!
However – for the school side of things – if anybody reading this understands latin and would be able to help me figure out some 101 level questions let me know! Would really appreciate a sounding board :)
For the horse people out there – this week was a blast! And I started typing the story of the British Smurff (umm that’d be Sienna) here but got too long, so as always, it’s been relocated to the GRS blog.
Ok well I’ve killed enough time that it’s time to go teach now. Hahhaa homework this eve I guess.
Cheers!
The British Smurff and other adventures . . .
Posted by
Lauren Cude Horsfall
comments (0)
So this was one of those weeks that reminds you why we keep going through the nasty weather, illness, and just plain grumpy days. Hahaha
Monday was a very short ride in which we warmed up, jumped perfectly around a tiny (like 2'3) course, and went home again. Just a fun, easy day.
So Tuesday was not such a good ride, I will admit. I was not in the right frame of mind to be riding a greenbean ottb, and I knew enough to know that was an issue, so as soon as I got something remotely good we quit. Nowhere to hack (boooo) which in the past has always been my escape from days when ring-work just isn’t going to happen, so instead we went and grazed out front. Sienna took a long time to find “suitable” grass, but I have to think it was still better than dressage *g*
So Wednesday I load her up and off we go to visit my dq coach. N it turned out to be a good thing I didn’t pick a fight w/ Si on Tues, because she was an absolute superstar. And the lesson was a riot. Can’t remember the last time I laughed so much in a lesson I was actually taking *g*. Teaching, absolutely >;-P hahaha but fairly rare in my own lessons. Laughing like that at least guarantees the relaxation side of things hahaha even if it does make applying the correct aids a little tricky. My horse, it turns out, is a British smurf. This explains so many of her issues, because it’s really tricky to be the stereotypical stuck-up, proper, elegant British while being blue w/ a white hat and a squeaky voice. So basically, when she’s having a meltdown, it’s mostly an identity crisis. And my sincere apologies to all the British and all the smurfs I’ve now offended. Hahaha
Thurs I was teaching a lesson at a friend’s farm but all my other lessons were cancelled, so I brought Si with me there to ride before-hand. She was super-high (hmmm let’s see, cold and windy, different place, scary animals in the trees….) but really good. Took a little while to find her brain, but once I did it was amazing. I was sort of amused in one of our “not-quite-listening” moments we jumped a pumpkin. Consider the accuracy it requires to jump something that skinny. I wish I had it on tape :) hahaha and it completely didn’t phase her – it’s in the way, so we go over it. End of story. The British side was clearly in charge *g*.
Anyways eventually she settled, so I decided we’d jump a little. There was a “ditch” set up (read two poles on the ground w/ feedsacks between them and barrels for wings), which I thought was brilliant. Ditches are the one thing Sienna really doesn’t like and unfortunately the only thing I have nowhere to school on a regular basis. Booo. Unfortunately this did nothing to help our ditch issues as Sienna took one look and thought “feed sacks on the ground – these aren’t worth jumping over” and treated the whole thing like a trotting pole. Hahaha ok that’s a slight exaggeration – she *did* jump it reasonably high the first time but very quickly decided it was a trotting pole. And after that would even step on the bags. Sheesh.
So continuing in the vein of scary jumps I put two barrels on their side w/ two poles on top in “corner jump” formation and stuck my blue jacket underneath to make this a waterjump. I also took Sienna’s cooler and tossed it over one of the verticals. Which was a big waste of time as she literally didn’t even acknowledge the cooler jump. Although all summer of jumping a hoola skirt probably helped prepare her for that! Hahaha. The water jump had some hesitation followed by a giant cat leap and the rider grabbing some mane! Future attempts proved smoother though and by the end I could canter it off a 15m turn easily in stride. And no concern at all if she had a longer approach w/ time to think about it. And of course we had the requisite trot fence w/ poles on either side. This was set at about 2’9” and was the biggest of our obstacles which should put this in perspective a little *g* We’re not heading for Rolex here people, just trying to get my greenbean jumping well and confidently.
Afterwards Si had to hang out w/ me while I taught and she was an absolute saint about it. Stood quietly. Stood when I ground-tied her (which she’s not trained to do in the least) so that I could help my student w/ her horse (complete w/ the “don’t try this at home” codicil *g* Fortunately student is an adult and gets it). Followed properly and stayed out of the way while I was setting fences (this she *is* trained to do :) and just generally behaved herself. Now she was probably a *little* tired by this point, but that’s not tragic *g*
So fast forward a couple hours to my Fri am jumping lesson. Our flat work was ummmm less than spectacular as she was clearly tired. Understandable! Our jumping however… Well maybe we *are* going to Rolex *g*. hahaha we almost always start w/ the same exercise – a trot vert w/ poles on either side. Great for both of us as it’s almost idiot-proof so it’s an easy way to get into the whole jumping thing in a relaxed and easy manner. Except this time after we tripped over the first go-round cause she couldn’t bother jumping it, the fence went up a couple holes. Ok so this time she jumps it but still no effort involved. Up a couple more holes to the point that it’s now about 3’4” and getting to where she-who-hasn’t-jumped-consistently-for-two-years (umm that’d be me :) starts to notice the height. And we’re still trotting. So we give it ago and because I was actually thinking about it, I rode it text-book style (my coach was happy) and her jump . . . OMG I could’ve reached out to pat her knees. Up around her ears, bascule like I haven’t felt in a looonnnggg time. The comment from my coach “ok, *now* she’s jumping. Do it again.” Hahaha So we did it a couple more times and every time she was brilliant. I was thoroughly thrilled.
“Ok so from now on, everything is easy,” my coach says as he lowers the fence back to a more usual level. Sure enough, the course he’d been setting up while I was doing this suddenly didn’t look nearly as impressive. The biggest was @ 2’9” which I could now look at and say “well she could trot that w/ no problem.” Hahaha now I always tell my PE/E level students that when we’re walking courses and they’re concerned about something, because let’s be honest at PE/E it’s true. But I never realized just what a relief that actually is till I caught myself saying it to ME! Hahaha and then I realized how sad it is that I haven’t jumped real fences in sooooo long that these things are starting to seem big. Although I have to admit that may be partially because she feels the need to clear them all by an extra foot! Anyways – she jumped around the course that had some of everything (skinny, combination, hoola-hoop skirt, oxers, etc) and I have to admit I was somewhat disappointed w/ my riding. Blah. But my pony? She was a pro. Even gave me her leads over every fence. So we left it at that, because really? She’s worked hard all week and it’s hard to improve upon perfection *g* And she’s not at the level yet where that’s easy for her so it’s certainly not time to put them higher. So she’s done.
Tomorrow off and then a show on Sunday :) hahaha could be interesting! I’m far more concerned about the w/u than the actual show ring… But we shall see…
Monday was a very short ride in which we warmed up, jumped perfectly around a tiny (like 2'3) course, and went home again. Just a fun, easy day.
So Tuesday was not such a good ride, I will admit. I was not in the right frame of mind to be riding a greenbean ottb, and I knew enough to know that was an issue, so as soon as I got something remotely good we quit. Nowhere to hack (boooo) which in the past has always been my escape from days when ring-work just isn’t going to happen, so instead we went and grazed out front. Sienna took a long time to find “suitable” grass, but I have to think it was still better than dressage *g*
So Wednesday I load her up and off we go to visit my dq coach. N it turned out to be a good thing I didn’t pick a fight w/ Si on Tues, because she was an absolute superstar. And the lesson was a riot. Can’t remember the last time I laughed so much in a lesson I was actually taking *g*. Teaching, absolutely >;-P hahaha but fairly rare in my own lessons. Laughing like that at least guarantees the relaxation side of things hahaha even if it does make applying the correct aids a little tricky. My horse, it turns out, is a British smurf. This explains so many of her issues, because it’s really tricky to be the stereotypical stuck-up, proper, elegant British while being blue w/ a white hat and a squeaky voice. So basically, when she’s having a meltdown, it’s mostly an identity crisis. And my sincere apologies to all the British and all the smurfs I’ve now offended. Hahaha
Thurs I was teaching a lesson at a friend’s farm but all my other lessons were cancelled, so I brought Si with me there to ride before-hand. She was super-high (hmmm let’s see, cold and windy, different place, scary animals in the trees….) but really good. Took a little while to find her brain, but once I did it was amazing. I was sort of amused in one of our “not-quite-listening” moments we jumped a pumpkin. Consider the accuracy it requires to jump something that skinny. I wish I had it on tape :) hahaha and it completely didn’t phase her – it’s in the way, so we go over it. End of story. The British side was clearly in charge *g*.
Anyways eventually she settled, so I decided we’d jump a little. There was a “ditch” set up (read two poles on the ground w/ feedsacks between them and barrels for wings), which I thought was brilliant. Ditches are the one thing Sienna really doesn’t like and unfortunately the only thing I have nowhere to school on a regular basis. Booo. Unfortunately this did nothing to help our ditch issues as Sienna took one look and thought “feed sacks on the ground – these aren’t worth jumping over” and treated the whole thing like a trotting pole. Hahaha ok that’s a slight exaggeration – she *did* jump it reasonably high the first time but very quickly decided it was a trotting pole. And after that would even step on the bags. Sheesh.
So continuing in the vein of scary jumps I put two barrels on their side w/ two poles on top in “corner jump” formation and stuck my blue jacket underneath to make this a waterjump. I also took Sienna’s cooler and tossed it over one of the verticals. Which was a big waste of time as she literally didn’t even acknowledge the cooler jump. Although all summer of jumping a hoola skirt probably helped prepare her for that! Hahaha. The water jump had some hesitation followed by a giant cat leap and the rider grabbing some mane! Future attempts proved smoother though and by the end I could canter it off a 15m turn easily in stride. And no concern at all if she had a longer approach w/ time to think about it. And of course we had the requisite trot fence w/ poles on either side. This was set at about 2’9” and was the biggest of our obstacles which should put this in perspective a little *g* We’re not heading for Rolex here people, just trying to get my greenbean jumping well and confidently.
Afterwards Si had to hang out w/ me while I taught and she was an absolute saint about it. Stood quietly. Stood when I ground-tied her (which she’s not trained to do in the least) so that I could help my student w/ her horse (complete w/ the “don’t try this at home” codicil *g* Fortunately student is an adult and gets it). Followed properly and stayed out of the way while I was setting fences (this she *is* trained to do :) and just generally behaved herself. Now she was probably a *little* tired by this point, but that’s not tragic *g*
So fast forward a couple hours to my Fri am jumping lesson. Our flat work was ummmm less than spectacular as she was clearly tired. Understandable! Our jumping however… Well maybe we *are* going to Rolex *g*. hahaha we almost always start w/ the same exercise – a trot vert w/ poles on either side. Great for both of us as it’s almost idiot-proof so it’s an easy way to get into the whole jumping thing in a relaxed and easy manner. Except this time after we tripped over the first go-round cause she couldn’t bother jumping it, the fence went up a couple holes. Ok so this time she jumps it but still no effort involved. Up a couple more holes to the point that it’s now about 3’4” and getting to where she-who-hasn’t-jumped-consistently-for-two-years (umm that’d be me :) starts to notice the height. And we’re still trotting. So we give it ago and because I was actually thinking about it, I rode it text-book style (my coach was happy) and her jump . . . OMG I could’ve reached out to pat her knees. Up around her ears, bascule like I haven’t felt in a looonnnggg time. The comment from my coach “ok, *now* she’s jumping. Do it again.” Hahaha So we did it a couple more times and every time she was brilliant. I was thoroughly thrilled.
“Ok so from now on, everything is easy,” my coach says as he lowers the fence back to a more usual level. Sure enough, the course he’d been setting up while I was doing this suddenly didn’t look nearly as impressive. The biggest was @ 2’9” which I could now look at and say “well she could trot that w/ no problem.” Hahaha now I always tell my PE/E level students that when we’re walking courses and they’re concerned about something, because let’s be honest at PE/E it’s true. But I never realized just what a relief that actually is till I caught myself saying it to ME! Hahaha and then I realized how sad it is that I haven’t jumped real fences in sooooo long that these things are starting to seem big. Although I have to admit that may be partially because she feels the need to clear them all by an extra foot! Anyways – she jumped around the course that had some of everything (skinny, combination, hoola-hoop skirt, oxers, etc) and I have to admit I was somewhat disappointed w/ my riding. Blah. But my pony? She was a pro. Even gave me her leads over every fence. So we left it at that, because really? She’s worked hard all week and it’s hard to improve upon perfection *g* And she’s not at the level yet where that’s easy for her so it’s certainly not time to put them higher. So she’s done.
Tomorrow off and then a show on Sunday :) hahaha could be interesting! I’m far more concerned about the w/u than the actual show ring… But we shall see…
Flash Fiction #9 - Training
Posted by
Lauren Cude Horsfall
comments (3)
"What are you doing here?" Sarah looked up from her desk to see her old boss standing in her office doorway.
"Shouldn't I be asking you that?" she said, entirely ignoring the woman with him.
"Seriously Sarah, this is a waste of your considerable talent," Agent Dylan told her, "When are you going to let it go and come back?"
Sarah didn't even bother rolling her eyes at the oft-repeated question, merely turned her back on him. It was a petty dismissal but she felt it was necessary. He, of course, entirely ignored it.
“We need your help," he said, indicating the blonde beside him. Sarah wouldn't even look at her.
"I don't do ghost wannabes. You know that."
"This one's different."
"What's different? Did she, or did she not, try to kill herself?"
"She's a level 8 medium with no shields." Dylan told her, completely avoiding the question. The implications of that did give Sarah a slight pause but was insufficient to overcome her long-ingrained disrespect of suicidal people. "We've put her through every kind of training we could imagine and still nothing. Consider it a challenge."
"Carol couldn't help her?" Sarah asked, reluctantly curious. She never could resist a challenge.
"She tried. Alyssa ended up in a coma."
"Interesting." Sarah acknowledged clinically, keeping the surprise out of her voice. Carol was the one who had originally trained Sarah. "Why did you wake up?" she asked Alyssa directly, thinking sleeping forever was an easy way out for one who wanted to kill herself.
"Dylan." Alyssa stated, with no indication of how she felt about it. "The spirits were quiet, but so was everything else. It was like I was in a void and eventually Dylan showed up and shoved me out. Now everything's back as it was before." At Sarah's look Agent Dylan shrugged off what she knew must've been an extraordinary experience. To enter the mind of one who is not under control is to risk being lost there yourself, and she imagined adding in the visiting spirits would just make it that much worse. Much like exploring the mind of a schizophrenic.
"What do you expect me to do?" Sarah asked, knowing the answer but needing it stated.
"You're an emphatic telepath. Take a look, feel what she's feeling, then build her a shield."
Reluctantly Sarah lowered the shields of her own mind which she used to filter out the thoughts and feelings of others.
She allowed a moment to be overwhelmed by the flood of voices frivolously chattering before focusing her attention on the girl beside her. As soon as she did the sense of despair was almost overwhelming. It was a horrid combination of an inability to help, no way to avoid the pleas, and a feeling of complete failure. And worse, a resigned acceptance that this was how it would always be. Switching senses, Sarah opened herself to experiencing Alyssa's thoughts which were being monopolized by a child crying in the dark, a tall pale man asking where his wife was, and others who were there but appeared unaware of her.
“Interesting.” Sarah repeated as she brought her own shields back up and disconnected from the chaos that was Alyssa's mind. She grabbed her purse and followed Dylan out of the room, silently agreeing with him that this was not the appropriate place for what needed to be done. Alyssa followed the pair, unsure exactly what had been wordlessly decided, but knowing that something had.
Arriving at the Motel 6 Dylan had booked Sarah sat down with Alyssa. "I've never done this before," she told her, "and I can't guarantee it'll go any better than Carol's attempt, but I’m willing to try." Alyssa just nodded. "When Carol helped you, she had you hide yourself inside a diamond?" Sarah guessed. A diamond is the hardest stone on Earth -- and therefore a great way to shield yourself, and one of Carol's favourite training images. Alyssa nodded her assent.
"Ok close your eyes, and wait till I join you." Alyssa's haunted blue eyes closed, and Sarah once again lowered her own shields and allowed the chaos in, having no idea how she was actually going to solve this. She temporarily blocked her emphatic sense allowing her to focus only on Sarah's thoughts -- and through her, those of the spirits with her. Her eyes were open, but the scene she saw was entirely in Alyssa’s mind. She found Alyssa cowering by a tree as some people wandered aimlessly around while others converged on her.
Turning her back on Alyssa, her dimmed emphatic sense could feel her hurt and fear, but she had to allow that for a few minutes. She found the pieces of the diamond shield Carol had helped her create and used that to build far more than a shield. She built an entire castle, with windows and only one entrance. Then she went and fought her way through the spirits to get to Alyssa, and casting her own shield widely enough to cover both of them she got Alyssa into the diamond castle – but once there Alyssa was blank. There was no expression on her face, no acknowledgement of her surroundings. Nothing.
And Sarah suddenly new what to do. She quickly pulled Alyssa back out into the realm of chaos. "Alyssa!" the younger girl slowly focused on her. "Somewhere out here is your knowledge, your feelings, your thoughts, and your memories. We have to find these and put them inside for you." Alyssa nodded her understanding, her eyes lighting with the first glimmers of hope. Using her own unique senses, Sarah was quickly able to locate Alyssa's feelings and thoughts -- hidden in a chest and a rock respectively, presumably previous shield attempts. On her own, Alyssa located her knowledge. Then it was just a search for her memories, which the rather helpful spirit of her grandmother was holding on to. All critical items accounted for, Sarah and Alyssa returned to the diamond castle. Sarah pulled the door shut, keeping a close eye on Alyssa. This time, she appeared to still be under control. "You ok?" Sarah asked. Alyssa nodded. Sarah let all her shields down. "Now?" "I can still hear them, but they're quiet. Like someone has the volume just one step above mute." Sarah thought for a moment and then walked over to the one open window and shut it. "Now?" Alyssa looked stunned.
"Ok so this is how it works," Sarah started in her teacher voice, "while you're in the diamond castle they'll leave you alone. If you want to listen, open a window; if you want to communicate, open the door and let only the one you wish to speak to in. If you find yourself outside -- which you will when you’re tired or upset, come back here as quickly as you can and shut the door. And remember, no matter how bad it is out there you can always get back. Got it?" Alyssa nodded and Sarah could feel her doubt and her hope warring it out -- but at least hope was still there. Maybe there was actually a chance. "Ok, when you're talking to Dylan tell him to leave me alone for a few hours. Open your eyes."
When Alyssa opened her eyes it was to see Sarah, incredibly pale, unconscious on the couch w/ Dylan leaning over her taking her pulse. And for the first time ever, silence. "She says leave her alone for a few hours." Alyssa told him. Dylan smiled ruefully "Yeah that sounds like her. So?" he asked -- but didn't need the answer. Even without looking uninvited, he knew from peace on Alyssa’s face that Sarah had met the challenge.
"Shouldn't I be asking you that?" she said, entirely ignoring the woman with him.
"Seriously Sarah, this is a waste of your considerable talent," Agent Dylan told her, "When are you going to let it go and come back?"
Sarah didn't even bother rolling her eyes at the oft-repeated question, merely turned her back on him. It was a petty dismissal but she felt it was necessary. He, of course, entirely ignored it.
“We need your help," he said, indicating the blonde beside him. Sarah wouldn't even look at her.
"I don't do ghost wannabes. You know that."
"This one's different."
"What's different? Did she, or did she not, try to kill herself?"
"She's a level 8 medium with no shields." Dylan told her, completely avoiding the question. The implications of that did give Sarah a slight pause but was insufficient to overcome her long-ingrained disrespect of suicidal people. "We've put her through every kind of training we could imagine and still nothing. Consider it a challenge."
"Carol couldn't help her?" Sarah asked, reluctantly curious. She never could resist a challenge.
"She tried. Alyssa ended up in a coma."
"Interesting." Sarah acknowledged clinically, keeping the surprise out of her voice. Carol was the one who had originally trained Sarah. "Why did you wake up?" she asked Alyssa directly, thinking sleeping forever was an easy way out for one who wanted to kill herself.
"Dylan." Alyssa stated, with no indication of how she felt about it. "The spirits were quiet, but so was everything else. It was like I was in a void and eventually Dylan showed up and shoved me out. Now everything's back as it was before." At Sarah's look Agent Dylan shrugged off what she knew must've been an extraordinary experience. To enter the mind of one who is not under control is to risk being lost there yourself, and she imagined adding in the visiting spirits would just make it that much worse. Much like exploring the mind of a schizophrenic.
"What do you expect me to do?" Sarah asked, knowing the answer but needing it stated.
"You're an emphatic telepath. Take a look, feel what she's feeling, then build her a shield."
Reluctantly Sarah lowered the shields of her own mind which she used to filter out the thoughts and feelings of others.
She allowed a moment to be overwhelmed by the flood of voices frivolously chattering before focusing her attention on the girl beside her. As soon as she did the sense of despair was almost overwhelming. It was a horrid combination of an inability to help, no way to avoid the pleas, and a feeling of complete failure. And worse, a resigned acceptance that this was how it would always be. Switching senses, Sarah opened herself to experiencing Alyssa's thoughts which were being monopolized by a child crying in the dark, a tall pale man asking where his wife was, and others who were there but appeared unaware of her.
“Interesting.” Sarah repeated as she brought her own shields back up and disconnected from the chaos that was Alyssa's mind. She grabbed her purse and followed Dylan out of the room, silently agreeing with him that this was not the appropriate place for what needed to be done. Alyssa followed the pair, unsure exactly what had been wordlessly decided, but knowing that something had.
Arriving at the Motel 6 Dylan had booked Sarah sat down with Alyssa. "I've never done this before," she told her, "and I can't guarantee it'll go any better than Carol's attempt, but I’m willing to try." Alyssa just nodded. "When Carol helped you, she had you hide yourself inside a diamond?" Sarah guessed. A diamond is the hardest stone on Earth -- and therefore a great way to shield yourself, and one of Carol's favourite training images. Alyssa nodded her assent.
"Ok close your eyes, and wait till I join you." Alyssa's haunted blue eyes closed, and Sarah once again lowered her own shields and allowed the chaos in, having no idea how she was actually going to solve this. She temporarily blocked her emphatic sense allowing her to focus only on Sarah's thoughts -- and through her, those of the spirits with her. Her eyes were open, but the scene she saw was entirely in Alyssa’s mind. She found Alyssa cowering by a tree as some people wandered aimlessly around while others converged on her.
Turning her back on Alyssa, her dimmed emphatic sense could feel her hurt and fear, but she had to allow that for a few minutes. She found the pieces of the diamond shield Carol had helped her create and used that to build far more than a shield. She built an entire castle, with windows and only one entrance. Then she went and fought her way through the spirits to get to Alyssa, and casting her own shield widely enough to cover both of them she got Alyssa into the diamond castle – but once there Alyssa was blank. There was no expression on her face, no acknowledgement of her surroundings. Nothing.
And Sarah suddenly new what to do. She quickly pulled Alyssa back out into the realm of chaos. "Alyssa!" the younger girl slowly focused on her. "Somewhere out here is your knowledge, your feelings, your thoughts, and your memories. We have to find these and put them inside for you." Alyssa nodded her understanding, her eyes lighting with the first glimmers of hope. Using her own unique senses, Sarah was quickly able to locate Alyssa's feelings and thoughts -- hidden in a chest and a rock respectively, presumably previous shield attempts. On her own, Alyssa located her knowledge. Then it was just a search for her memories, which the rather helpful spirit of her grandmother was holding on to. All critical items accounted for, Sarah and Alyssa returned to the diamond castle. Sarah pulled the door shut, keeping a close eye on Alyssa. This time, she appeared to still be under control. "You ok?" Sarah asked. Alyssa nodded. Sarah let all her shields down. "Now?" "I can still hear them, but they're quiet. Like someone has the volume just one step above mute." Sarah thought for a moment and then walked over to the one open window and shut it. "Now?" Alyssa looked stunned.
"Ok so this is how it works," Sarah started in her teacher voice, "while you're in the diamond castle they'll leave you alone. If you want to listen, open a window; if you want to communicate, open the door and let only the one you wish to speak to in. If you find yourself outside -- which you will when you’re tired or upset, come back here as quickly as you can and shut the door. And remember, no matter how bad it is out there you can always get back. Got it?" Alyssa nodded and Sarah could feel her doubt and her hope warring it out -- but at least hope was still there. Maybe there was actually a chance. "Ok, when you're talking to Dylan tell him to leave me alone for a few hours. Open your eyes."
When Alyssa opened her eyes it was to see Sarah, incredibly pale, unconscious on the couch w/ Dylan leaning over her taking her pulse. And for the first time ever, silence. "She says leave her alone for a few hours." Alyssa told him. Dylan smiled ruefully "Yeah that sounds like her. So?" he asked -- but didn't need the answer. Even without looking uninvited, he knew from peace on Alyssa’s face that Sarah had met the challenge.
Flash Fiction #8 - An Evening Encounter
Posted by
Lauren Cude Horsfall
comments (9)
For those who actually read the blog for the blog part of things, I had the most amazing lesson today! Superpony had lightbulbs flashing every few minutes. hahaha and that story's on the GRS blog :)
For my Canadian readers -- Happy Turkey Day!!! Have a great Thanksgiving :)
And for everybody else: Friday Flash :) I couldn't decide on the right ending -- I have an extra paragraph that I couldn't decide whether or not to include. I *think* it's better w/o, but not quite sure so I added it in after a break at the end. Let me know your thoughts!
*edited to add: Alright -- the votes are in! Last paragraph is gone :) Anybody reading from now on in gets the edited version! Cheers :) *
Thanks for reading!
----
An Evening Encounter
It was a dark and stormy night. Oh wait, no it wasn't -- that's somebody else's story. It was actually a stunningly gorgeous night, crisp and cool with the hint of unfallen snow on the air. The harvest moon lit the world with a surreal night-time glow and the stars were so numerous Elsie felt there had to be some uncharted ones visible to those who knew those kind of things.
She was at the cottage for Thanksgiving and had escaped the warmth and chaos of the indoors for a few moments of complete silence. She'd been looking forward to this weekend for a long time -- the complete escape from the reality of her everyday life. She took a deep breath and savored the intense quiet.
"Excuse me," the little voice made her jump and her heart pound unbelievably fast. Her mind reviewed every scary movie she'd ever seen as she debated whether her family would hear her if she screamed. And then her imagination was brought under control as she observed who was addressing her -- a being entirely too fantastic for her somewhat uninventive imagination to have created.
"I was wondering if you might be able to spare a slice of pumpkin pie?" the little man asked. What? Elsie nearly laughed at the disjointed request. He was a squat man, with a face that rather resembled the cabbage-patch doll she'd had as a child. His dark green hair, highlighted by the moonlight, was a shade that was never in fashion -- not even in the 80s -- and was pulled back into a pony tail tied with something that looked like braided grass but was sparkling in the starlight. His voice was high, which made him seem childlike, but his eyes were haunted and belied an age not revealed in his appearance.
"Pumpkin pie?" Elsie asked, bewildered.
"Precisely." he replied, offering no explanation as to the strange request.
It was Thanksgiving -- of course she had pumpkin pie. And as her family had already eaten, nobody would care if she helped herself to another piece; this was the weekend for overindulgence of very good food after all.
"Sure," she decided with a shrug. "I'll be right back." And with a backwards glance at the unusual little man, she returned to the warmth and comfort of the cottage. She cut a generous slice and foamed a significant amount of whipped cream on top -- pumpkin pie was useless without whipped cream after all! Now the interesting challenge would be getting back outside with the pie. Sure enough as soon as she put her jacket on her mother questioned it.
"Where are you going?"
"I left my book in the car -- just going to grab it." It wasn't entirely a lie, she *had* left her book in the car and did want to have it for the evening.
"With your pie?" damn, her mother never missed anything.
"Well I don't dare leave it here!" Elsie stated emphatically with a deliberate look at her uncles and her younger brothers. Her mother smiled in acknowledgment while her male relatives loudly defended their honour and Elsie slipped out the door.
She returned to where she'd left the little man, but nobody was there. She looked around and was beginning to feel more than a little foolish when he materialized beside her. He lifted the entire slice with one giant sized hand, somehow keeping the pie intact and the whipped cream on top and leaving her with an empty plate. "Thank you," he said, and with a little half-nod, half-bow, he was gone.
"Well I guess that's that," Elsie thought, somewhat bemused, as she returned to the house, remembering to stop at the car and pick up her book.
"Polished that off pretty quickly, didn't you?" her brother was quick to point out as she walked into the cottage w/ the empty plate.
"It's good stuff." Elsie said with a laugh and fell back into the camaraderie of extended family gatherings.
Late that night when she finally went to sleep, she dreamed. She dreamed of summer in the nearby meadow and fairies, for they could be nothing else, dancing around the tree. Most ignored her completely, but one came and gestured to Elsie to follow. Quickly they came upon a pumpkin patch that, in the way of dreams, Elsie accepted unquestioningly. As she watched, Elsie saw the little man very like the one she met earlier appear to tend the patch; he seemed oblivious to her and the fairy's presence.
Elsie looked at the fairy quizzically. "Garden gnomes," the fairy answered her unasked question in a lilting voice. "Their lives rely on their gardens; this year the trolls wiped out the plot. If they couldn't recreate it by next year, the entire pack would die. It was out of desperation that Finzig approached you -- having spoken to you, law prohibits his return, but the pumpkin source you provided will save his family and the white gold on top will make them incredibly wealthy. That was very generous of you to include." The fairy said with a smile.
"What of Finzig?" Elsie asked, moved by the plight of one who'd risk all to save his family.
"He's going to travel," the fairy told her. "He'll be as the minstrels of your history once were -- welcome everywhere briefly and nowhere forever. He'll carry news and stories and discoveries from one garden to another, perhaps occasionally posing for photographs with those of your world. Don't look so sad," she told Elsie, "it's a life he'll embrace. As a child he was forever wandering and as an adult never settled in the pack. This will give him a chance to do what he's always wanted to do, and a valid reason for doing it. He's one of the few to ever leave with pride and his story will be sung for generations. And what you did made his leaving worthwhile. I brought you here so you could know that." And on that note the dream faded and Elsie opened her eyes to find herself lying in bed with her mind still in that place between sleep and awake where you still remember dreaming.
For my Canadian readers -- Happy Turkey Day!!! Have a great Thanksgiving :)
And for everybody else: Friday Flash :) I couldn't decide on the right ending -- I have an extra paragraph that I couldn't decide whether or not to include. I *think* it's better w/o, but not quite sure so I added it in after a break at the end. Let me know your thoughts!
*edited to add: Alright -- the votes are in! Last paragraph is gone :) Anybody reading from now on in gets the edited version! Cheers :) *
Thanks for reading!
----
An Evening Encounter
It was a dark and stormy night. Oh wait, no it wasn't -- that's somebody else's story. It was actually a stunningly gorgeous night, crisp and cool with the hint of unfallen snow on the air. The harvest moon lit the world with a surreal night-time glow and the stars were so numerous Elsie felt there had to be some uncharted ones visible to those who knew those kind of things.
She was at the cottage for Thanksgiving and had escaped the warmth and chaos of the indoors for a few moments of complete silence. She'd been looking forward to this weekend for a long time -- the complete escape from the reality of her everyday life. She took a deep breath and savored the intense quiet.
"Excuse me," the little voice made her jump and her heart pound unbelievably fast. Her mind reviewed every scary movie she'd ever seen as she debated whether her family would hear her if she screamed. And then her imagination was brought under control as she observed who was addressing her -- a being entirely too fantastic for her somewhat uninventive imagination to have created.
"I was wondering if you might be able to spare a slice of pumpkin pie?" the little man asked. What? Elsie nearly laughed at the disjointed request. He was a squat man, with a face that rather resembled the cabbage-patch doll she'd had as a child. His dark green hair, highlighted by the moonlight, was a shade that was never in fashion -- not even in the 80s -- and was pulled back into a pony tail tied with something that looked like braided grass but was sparkling in the starlight. His voice was high, which made him seem childlike, but his eyes were haunted and belied an age not revealed in his appearance.
"Pumpkin pie?" Elsie asked, bewildered.
"Precisely." he replied, offering no explanation as to the strange request.
It was Thanksgiving -- of course she had pumpkin pie. And as her family had already eaten, nobody would care if she helped herself to another piece; this was the weekend for overindulgence of very good food after all.
"Sure," she decided with a shrug. "I'll be right back." And with a backwards glance at the unusual little man, she returned to the warmth and comfort of the cottage. She cut a generous slice and foamed a significant amount of whipped cream on top -- pumpkin pie was useless without whipped cream after all! Now the interesting challenge would be getting back outside with the pie. Sure enough as soon as she put her jacket on her mother questioned it.
"Where are you going?"
"I left my book in the car -- just going to grab it." It wasn't entirely a lie, she *had* left her book in the car and did want to have it for the evening.
"With your pie?" damn, her mother never missed anything.
"Well I don't dare leave it here!" Elsie stated emphatically with a deliberate look at her uncles and her younger brothers. Her mother smiled in acknowledgment while her male relatives loudly defended their honour and Elsie slipped out the door.
She returned to where she'd left the little man, but nobody was there. She looked around and was beginning to feel more than a little foolish when he materialized beside her. He lifted the entire slice with one giant sized hand, somehow keeping the pie intact and the whipped cream on top and leaving her with an empty plate. "Thank you," he said, and with a little half-nod, half-bow, he was gone.
"Well I guess that's that," Elsie thought, somewhat bemused, as she returned to the house, remembering to stop at the car and pick up her book.
"Polished that off pretty quickly, didn't you?" her brother was quick to point out as she walked into the cottage w/ the empty plate.
"It's good stuff." Elsie said with a laugh and fell back into the camaraderie of extended family gatherings.
Late that night when she finally went to sleep, she dreamed. She dreamed of summer in the nearby meadow and fairies, for they could be nothing else, dancing around the tree. Most ignored her completely, but one came and gestured to Elsie to follow. Quickly they came upon a pumpkin patch that, in the way of dreams, Elsie accepted unquestioningly. As she watched, Elsie saw the little man very like the one she met earlier appear to tend the patch; he seemed oblivious to her and the fairy's presence.
Elsie looked at the fairy quizzically. "Garden gnomes," the fairy answered her unasked question in a lilting voice. "Their lives rely on their gardens; this year the trolls wiped out the plot. If they couldn't recreate it by next year, the entire pack would die. It was out of desperation that Finzig approached you -- having spoken to you, law prohibits his return, but the pumpkin source you provided will save his family and the white gold on top will make them incredibly wealthy. That was very generous of you to include." The fairy said with a smile.
"What of Finzig?" Elsie asked, moved by the plight of one who'd risk all to save his family.
"He's going to travel," the fairy told her. "He'll be as the minstrels of your history once were -- welcome everywhere briefly and nowhere forever. He'll carry news and stories and discoveries from one garden to another, perhaps occasionally posing for photographs with those of your world. Don't look so sad," she told Elsie, "it's a life he'll embrace. As a child he was forever wandering and as an adult never settled in the pack. This will give him a chance to do what he's always wanted to do, and a valid reason for doing it. He's one of the few to ever leave with pride and his story will be sung for generations. And what you did made his leaving worthwhile. I brought you here so you could know that." And on that note the dream faded and Elsie opened her eyes to find herself lying in bed with her mind still in that place between sleep and awake where you still remember dreaming.
Visions of what could be . . .
Posted by
Lauren Cude Horsfall
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"So how are those transitions coming?" asked my coach as he walked in the ring. He's a brave man >;-P
"Disastrous."
"Really?"
"Well no, only the trot-canter transition is disastrous. All the other ones have actually gotten better."
"Ok we can fix that."
hahaha now I actually accepted that cause M got us there after a long brutal effort (thanks M!) and so remembering that, yesterday Si did ok -- not well, but actually ok. It was better... So there was in fact hope it could happen after all that but we shall see.
So we start w/ a *simple* trot exercise >;-P On a 19m circle (19 cause not allowed to hit the track :) in trot, shoulder fore, collect stride, leg yield out, lengthen stride, halt, turn on forehand 360, trot. Ummm sure. No problem. Sheesh. To be fair, the lengthen stride to halt is allowed to have as many intermediary steps as required - which for us is about half a circle. But all the rest is just as insane as listed *g* We had varying degrees of success w/ any of the items on that list, but what it *did* do was get her stepping under brilliantly and set it up so we could go shoulder fore, collected stride, leg yield out, and sub in canter instead of lengthen stride. And it worked. Correct lead and connected every time. Now don't get me wrong -- tis still a long way from pretty or technically good... But there was no running and she really tried and was reasonably successful. And I was ecstatic. Little things in life :)
"Now she's a little muscle tired cause she's been working really hard." hahaha that so made me laugh. I didn't feel the need to elaborate that this was the easiest ride she'd had all week and what we were seeing was actually residual tired from Tues/Wed -- but the tired part of things was true enough so left it at that.
Then we move on to jumping -- the wheel of death. hahaha made slightly more changeling w/ "start counting down 8 strides out". Sheesh. However, I have to say the exercise was actually reasonably easy. Drilling the hoofprint game has made my eye fairly accurate and Superpony has amazing natural rhythm so seeing spots from a mile away isn't particularly brutal and after our wonderful canter flat work she was willing to give me either lead over the fence easily enough. Now our right circle *may* not have been "round" in the geometrical sense of the word *g* but she went pretty well where she was supposed to in a good pace AND we managed to fix our balance issues.
Anyways -- was an amazing lesson that showed flashes of "what could be" -- so I'm pretty happy about that :) Cheers!
"Disastrous."
"Really?"
"Well no, only the trot-canter transition is disastrous. All the other ones have actually gotten better."
"Ok we can fix that."
hahaha now I actually accepted that cause M got us there after a long brutal effort (thanks M!) and so remembering that, yesterday Si did ok -- not well, but actually ok. It was better... So there was in fact hope it could happen after all that but we shall see.
So we start w/ a *simple* trot exercise >;-P On a 19m circle (19 cause not allowed to hit the track :) in trot, shoulder fore, collect stride, leg yield out, lengthen stride, halt, turn on forehand 360, trot. Ummm sure. No problem. Sheesh. To be fair, the lengthen stride to halt is allowed to have as many intermediary steps as required - which for us is about half a circle. But all the rest is just as insane as listed *g* We had varying degrees of success w/ any of the items on that list, but what it *did* do was get her stepping under brilliantly and set it up so we could go shoulder fore, collected stride, leg yield out, and sub in canter instead of lengthen stride. And it worked. Correct lead and connected every time. Now don't get me wrong -- tis still a long way from pretty or technically good... But there was no running and she really tried and was reasonably successful. And I was ecstatic. Little things in life :)
"Now she's a little muscle tired cause she's been working really hard." hahaha that so made me laugh. I didn't feel the need to elaborate that this was the easiest ride she'd had all week and what we were seeing was actually residual tired from Tues/Wed -- but the tired part of things was true enough so left it at that.
Then we move on to jumping -- the wheel of death. hahaha made slightly more changeling w/ "start counting down 8 strides out". Sheesh. However, I have to say the exercise was actually reasonably easy. Drilling the hoofprint game has made my eye fairly accurate and Superpony has amazing natural rhythm so seeing spots from a mile away isn't particularly brutal and after our wonderful canter flat work she was willing to give me either lead over the fence easily enough. Now our right circle *may* not have been "round" in the geometrical sense of the word *g* but she went pretty well where she was supposed to in a good pace AND we managed to fix our balance issues.
Anyways -- was an amazing lesson that showed flashes of "what could be" -- so I'm pretty happy about that :) Cheers!
Tales from inside the ring...
Posted by
Lauren Cude Horsfall
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So on Tues night I got on my pony and she was *spun*. Not bad -- no bucking, no spinning, nothing particularly exciting, just ADD and wanting to run. And as a racehorse, she's reasonably good at that *g*. So she wanted gallop and I wanted trot and we compromised in a nice (read incredibly powerful, but marginally contained) canter. And it was quite an impressive canter, I will give her that :) So we started this shortly after the beginner kid I was riding around got on, and were *still* cantering when her lesson was over and she got off. On the plus side, it turns out both Sienna and I are reasonably fit. On the down side . . . really??? Seriously was that actually necessary? My originally plan of "w/u, jump outdoor course, entire ride done in <40mins" was entirely shot as two HOURS later I had a horse I could actually ride. Sheesh. The strange thing is, she it wasn't like she lost it (as TBs are wont to do) -- I've been there w/ her before and at that point you get off and try again a few hours later cause she won't come down from that. But she never switched off mentally, she just wanted to go. And go. And go.
Anyways so Wed night we have a dr lesson and I'm thinking she'll either be tired but perfect, or lose it entirely. So get there n hop on to warm up and she's perfect. Relaxed, quiet, all good :) Even somewhat connected *g* All good. Start to work, still pretty good. Then try to canter. This was less than successful. *sigh* That whole 3rd gait has been an issue lately and I figure really she had enough of it on Tues *g*. Fortunately for all involved my rather awesome coach has a good sense of when to push and when to back off and changed the subject before both horse and rider had a meltdown. hahaha Even better was that when both brains had been reinstalled she brought it up again for another try -- so it wasn't just give up for the day but repeat it when there's a chance it might actually work.
Comment of the night: "you can't cheat on this horse." hahahaha those of you who knew my DQ superstar pony Zel will understand the difference; those of you who don't know Zel, realize that the average sack of potatoes could take that horse into the dressage ring and still score 8s and 9s. So yes, I've been spoiled. Apparently riding one who can't do it naturally is going to make me a much better rider. This is what I'm going to keep telling myself anyways >;-P
So in the end was it good? Not particularly. Was it better? Absolutely. And the plus -- the trot got way better :) hahaha so we can nail that walk-trot test next month!
Anyways so Wed night we have a dr lesson and I'm thinking she'll either be tired but perfect, or lose it entirely. So get there n hop on to warm up and she's perfect. Relaxed, quiet, all good :) Even somewhat connected *g* All good. Start to work, still pretty good. Then try to canter. This was less than successful. *sigh* That whole 3rd gait has been an issue lately and I figure really she had enough of it on Tues *g*. Fortunately for all involved my rather awesome coach has a good sense of when to push and when to back off and changed the subject before both horse and rider had a meltdown. hahaha Even better was that when both brains had been reinstalled she brought it up again for another try -- so it wasn't just give up for the day but repeat it when there's a chance it might actually work.
Comment of the night: "you can't cheat on this horse." hahahaha those of you who knew my DQ superstar pony Zel will understand the difference; those of you who don't know Zel, realize that the average sack of potatoes could take that horse into the dressage ring and still score 8s and 9s. So yes, I've been spoiled. Apparently riding one who can't do it naturally is going to make me a much better rider. This is what I'm going to keep telling myself anyways >;-P
So in the end was it good? Not particularly. Was it better? Absolutely. And the plus -- the trot got way better :) hahaha so we can nail that walk-trot test next month!
Winter's coming way too fast...
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Lauren Cude Horsfall
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A friend of mine noted snow this morning. I am not amused. I would just like it on record that I have a pic of me eating ice cream, wearing a t-shirt, on Thanksgiving last year. I would really like that weather now. hahaha
Have had an interesting couple of rides in the last few days -- that story on GRS blog for the curious :)
Not sure if I'm going to have time for Flash this week. Have a couple things but I don't like any of them so not sure they'll get posted... We'll see...
Have had an interesting couple of rides in the last few days -- that story on GRS blog for the curious :)
Not sure if I'm going to have time for Flash this week. Have a couple things but I don't like any of them so not sure they'll get posted... We'll see...
Happy Birthday Nicole!!!!!
Posted by
Lauren Cude Horsfall
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So Nicole, our only guest blogger ever, turns 19 today!!! hahaha woohoo. Finally legal! No more sneaking into . . . movie theatres >;-P
And this post is written w/ the sole purpose of saying HAPPY BIRTHDAY!!!!!!! Hope it's absolutely amazing, as I'm sure it will be :)
And this post is written w/ the sole purpose of saying HAPPY BIRTHDAY!!!!!!! Hope it's absolutely amazing, as I'm sure it will be :)
Hedgehogs - why can't they just share the hedge?
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Lauren Cude Horsfall
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Just thought I'd say you're welcome for the warmer weather. I finally gave in and bought Si a new blanket (yeah blanket sale!) so that pretty much guaranteed it'd get warm again :) Woohoo!
So I had a student the other day who worked *really* hard riding a horse of the "lazy tank" type. This from one who usually rides ottbs -- and to her credit, she did an amazing job. Got that horse going and jumping like no tomorrow. hahaha but her FB status the next day indicated that she was feeling the effects of this... Oops :) So I, being less than helpful, suggested she think of it in the positive -- that this would help get her fit. Her response was instant and reminiscent of the kind of delivery N usually gives *g* She says to me that yes riding this horse on a regular basis probably would get both of them fit, but she was "willing not to test that theory." hahaha well it amused me anyways :)
Sienna's been an absolute jumping superstar lately -- but perhaps we won't discuss the dressage side of things. hahaha ah well -- off to M's this week so I'm sure she'll fix us :) Thinking about doing baby jumpers this month -- could be entertaining. Not sure what she'll think of a triple combination on course, but we shall see! Then maybe baby dressage next month.
Really looking forward to the Royal :) Kinda sad that I'm that hyped about it this far ahead of time -- usually it's like the day before when I decide I should go and find some people to go with, but this year I'm all for it :)
Having a serious shortage of hours this week. Not quite sure what I'm going to do about that. Ah well -- sleep is highly overrated.
Off for now!
So I had a student the other day who worked *really* hard riding a horse of the "lazy tank" type. This from one who usually rides ottbs -- and to her credit, she did an amazing job. Got that horse going and jumping like no tomorrow. hahaha but her FB status the next day indicated that she was feeling the effects of this... Oops :) So I, being less than helpful, suggested she think of it in the positive -- that this would help get her fit. Her response was instant and reminiscent of the kind of delivery N usually gives *g* She says to me that yes riding this horse on a regular basis probably would get both of them fit, but she was "willing not to test that theory." hahaha well it amused me anyways :)
Sienna's been an absolute jumping superstar lately -- but perhaps we won't discuss the dressage side of things. hahaha ah well -- off to M's this week so I'm sure she'll fix us :) Thinking about doing baby jumpers this month -- could be entertaining. Not sure what she'll think of a triple combination on course, but we shall see! Then maybe baby dressage next month.
Really looking forward to the Royal :) Kinda sad that I'm that hyped about it this far ahead of time -- usually it's like the day before when I decide I should go and find some people to go with, but this year I'm all for it :)
Having a serious shortage of hours this week. Not quite sure what I'm going to do about that. Ah well -- sleep is highly overrated.
Off for now!
Flash Fiction #7 - Just Another Day
Posted by
Lauren Cude Horsfall
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Just Another Day --
As her dinner companion's head exploded, Mary took a last sip of her espresso before sliding out of the booth and using the chaos that had erupted in the coffee shop to become disassociated with her unfortunate companion. There would be no point in sticking around for the cops -- she had nothing that could help them, and they would only hinder her.
It hadn't been one of her better days, she reflected as she slipped out the back door and blended in with the other pedestrians hunched to avoid the drizzly grey weather. But, she supposed, still better than some. At least she'd had time to pick his brain before it splattered so rudely across the table. Personally she didn't think his knowledge was worth killing for, but maybe she was becoming insouciant. Perhaps it was time to find a new career.
She followed the herd down to the subway and traveled three stops before emerging to flag an anonymous yellow taxi. She picked a random address she could've walked to, but habit had her instinctively make the job of those following her as difficult and inane as possible. Several cab changes later, she headed to her target location.
She slipped into the back of the lecture hall to hear the aged professor finishing up his under-graduate level talk. She waited as the students gathered their items and exited the hall with the extreme speed that only students escaping mandatory classes are capable of.
"Ah, Mary Mary quite contrary," he started seeing her sitting alone in the auditorium. To which Mary outwardly smiled and inwardly felt any respect she may have had for him disintegrate, "how may I assist you today?"
"Trevor Peters" she stated, watching him closely. The professor's face transformed from friendly-grandfather to one who has seen and known too much.
"I'm sorry, my dear, that name means nothing to me," he said.
After the day she'd had, she had no patience for the conventional games. "Spencer Matthews was killed a little over an hour ago. There's a very good chance Trevor will be next. Where is he?" The older man blanched slightly but otherwise gave no sign the news of his former student affected him.
"We haven't spoken in a while," he said inanely, "perhaps you'd like to come over for a coffee?" Several sharp retorts about the outcome of her last cup of coffee jumped instantly to mind, but resolutely she stifled them, knowing he was her only link to the information she required.
"I'd like that," she lied blatantly, and followed the professor out to his car. She was suspicious but not overly concerned when he drove to a stately old home instead of the nearest Starbucks.
The door was slightly ajar and the professor was cautious in opening it -- his movements betrayed an ingrained knowledge of tactical maneuvers not learned in the classroom. Mary was forced to reevaluate her opinion of him as she followed him in, sweeping left while he went right, her Springfield XD 9, previously concealed, now held confidently in front of her. As Mary shadowed the professor into what appeared to be his home library she was not particularly surprised to see him retrieve a Glock and magazine from a hollow book and load it; as her mind registered the significance of the practiced movement, she wondered idly what else might be in those books.
A quick sweep of the rest of the house proved what both instinctively knew -- they were alone. And nothing, so far as Mary could tell, had been touched. She wondered if the old professor had simply forgotten to lock up that morning, but as he was appearing less and less like an old professor by the second, she kept that thought to herself.
"What is it you want with Trevor Peters?" he asked bluntly.
"Information," she replied. "Information of the type people would kill for.” While she didn't particularly care one way or another about the life of the hacker who’d learned one secret too many, she had long since learned that playing the 'help safe a life' card motivated most civilians.
"What makes you think I know where he is?"
"If you didn't, I wouldn't be here." she stated, neatly avoiding the question. She knew better than to reveal sources -- even dead ones.
The look he gave her was that of a disappointed parent. "You don't know nearly as much as you think you do, young lady." Surprisingly she was more intrigued than insulted by his patronizing tone.
"Educate me," she challenged.
"This morning," he started, "I knew exactly where Trevor Peters was." Mary nodded -- she'd already ascertained that much. "He was here." That worried her briefly, maybe she really was slipping. She'd been certain the old professor knew where to find him, but had had no sign her quarry had been in the immediate area.
"I’ll help you find him," the professor stated.
"No thank you," Mary said, knowing even as she said it that the offer hadn't been an offer so much as a command. "You'd be putting yourself in danger. These people kill indiscriminately; just for talking to me, you could be at risk."
"Then I may as well be involved," the professor argued with a disturbing twist on logic. "And they're not that indiscriminant, otherwise how do you come to be standing here when Spencer is dead?"
"What makes you think I was there when Spencer was killed?" Mary asked focusing on the detail he shouldn't have known.
The professor gave her that withering you're an idiot child look again before pointing out that she had unmistakable flecks of brain matter staining her shirt. Ok so she should've picked up on that. Definitely time for a career change. But then, a math professor, on the verge of retirement, should not have.
"I will find Trevor." he started, taking advantage of her momentary discombobulation. "I can find him on my own -- in which case you'll never get to ask your questions, or we can find him together and see what he says." Mary’s tension rose as she envisioned her weeks of searching, not to mention a significant amount of money, being wasted due to a rogue professor
"There is one more thing that you don't know,” the professor stated, piquing her reluctant interest. Her raised eyebrow encouraged him to continue:
"Trevor Peters is my son."
As her dinner companion's head exploded, Mary took a last sip of her espresso before sliding out of the booth and using the chaos that had erupted in the coffee shop to become disassociated with her unfortunate companion. There would be no point in sticking around for the cops -- she had nothing that could help them, and they would only hinder her.
It hadn't been one of her better days, she reflected as she slipped out the back door and blended in with the other pedestrians hunched to avoid the drizzly grey weather. But, she supposed, still better than some. At least she'd had time to pick his brain before it splattered so rudely across the table. Personally she didn't think his knowledge was worth killing for, but maybe she was becoming insouciant. Perhaps it was time to find a new career.
She followed the herd down to the subway and traveled three stops before emerging to flag an anonymous yellow taxi. She picked a random address she could've walked to, but habit had her instinctively make the job of those following her as difficult and inane as possible. Several cab changes later, she headed to her target location.
She slipped into the back of the lecture hall to hear the aged professor finishing up his under-graduate level talk. She waited as the students gathered their items and exited the hall with the extreme speed that only students escaping mandatory classes are capable of.
"Ah, Mary Mary quite contrary," he started seeing her sitting alone in the auditorium. To which Mary outwardly smiled and inwardly felt any respect she may have had for him disintegrate, "how may I assist you today?"
"Trevor Peters" she stated, watching him closely. The professor's face transformed from friendly-grandfather to one who has seen and known too much.
"I'm sorry, my dear, that name means nothing to me," he said.
After the day she'd had, she had no patience for the conventional games. "Spencer Matthews was killed a little over an hour ago. There's a very good chance Trevor will be next. Where is he?" The older man blanched slightly but otherwise gave no sign the news of his former student affected him.
"We haven't spoken in a while," he said inanely, "perhaps you'd like to come over for a coffee?" Several sharp retorts about the outcome of her last cup of coffee jumped instantly to mind, but resolutely she stifled them, knowing he was her only link to the information she required.
"I'd like that," she lied blatantly, and followed the professor out to his car. She was suspicious but not overly concerned when he drove to a stately old home instead of the nearest Starbucks.
The door was slightly ajar and the professor was cautious in opening it -- his movements betrayed an ingrained knowledge of tactical maneuvers not learned in the classroom. Mary was forced to reevaluate her opinion of him as she followed him in, sweeping left while he went right, her Springfield XD 9, previously concealed, now held confidently in front of her. As Mary shadowed the professor into what appeared to be his home library she was not particularly surprised to see him retrieve a Glock and magazine from a hollow book and load it; as her mind registered the significance of the practiced movement, she wondered idly what else might be in those books.
A quick sweep of the rest of the house proved what both instinctively knew -- they were alone. And nothing, so far as Mary could tell, had been touched. She wondered if the old professor had simply forgotten to lock up that morning, but as he was appearing less and less like an old professor by the second, she kept that thought to herself.
"What is it you want with Trevor Peters?" he asked bluntly.
"Information," she replied. "Information of the type people would kill for.” While she didn't particularly care one way or another about the life of the hacker who’d learned one secret too many, she had long since learned that playing the 'help safe a life' card motivated most civilians.
"What makes you think I know where he is?"
"If you didn't, I wouldn't be here." she stated, neatly avoiding the question. She knew better than to reveal sources -- even dead ones.
The look he gave her was that of a disappointed parent. "You don't know nearly as much as you think you do, young lady." Surprisingly she was more intrigued than insulted by his patronizing tone.
"Educate me," she challenged.
"This morning," he started, "I knew exactly where Trevor Peters was." Mary nodded -- she'd already ascertained that much. "He was here." That worried her briefly, maybe she really was slipping. She'd been certain the old professor knew where to find him, but had had no sign her quarry had been in the immediate area.
"I’ll help you find him," the professor stated.
"No thank you," Mary said, knowing even as she said it that the offer hadn't been an offer so much as a command. "You'd be putting yourself in danger. These people kill indiscriminately; just for talking to me, you could be at risk."
"Then I may as well be involved," the professor argued with a disturbing twist on logic. "And they're not that indiscriminant, otherwise how do you come to be standing here when Spencer is dead?"
"What makes you think I was there when Spencer was killed?" Mary asked focusing on the detail he shouldn't have known.
The professor gave her that withering you're an idiot child look again before pointing out that she had unmistakable flecks of brain matter staining her shirt. Ok so she should've picked up on that. Definitely time for a career change. But then, a math professor, on the verge of retirement, should not have.
"I will find Trevor." he started, taking advantage of her momentary discombobulation. "I can find him on my own -- in which case you'll never get to ask your questions, or we can find him together and see what he says." Mary’s tension rose as she envisioned her weeks of searching, not to mention a significant amount of money, being wasted due to a rogue professor
"There is one more thing that you don't know,” the professor stated, piquing her reluctant interest. Her raised eyebrow encouraged him to continue:
"Trevor Peters is my son."
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