The Longest Trail

Hoof pounding dirt, a grand tale oft told wrong.

Man, beast as one, no fate could pull apart.

When split, they fall; united they are whole.

I remember meeting him; it wasn’t long after I had learned to walk. You might call this a figment of my willful imagination, a false oasis dreamt up by youthful folly. I can assure you it is not. I remember it clear as day, young though I was, seeing the frail, leg-wobbling Cash before me. Such a tiny thing, but even then, I could tell he would be substantial, proud, a great partner he would be. Cash and I were of an age, with scant few years separating us, yet the bond that would grow was to be so strong as to defy the passage of mere time.

Trepidation, unease, getting a feel for each other. Our first outing together felt awkward and clunky. Cash was learning to trust me, and I was learning to trust him, to direct him and teach him the proper way to ride together. Cash was a skittish partner at first; I couldn’t expect more of him, not yet, at least. Then, a few weeks passed, and seeing I wouldn’t hurt him, and he wouldn’t hurt me, things between us started to progress more smoothly.

Faster, faster, I urged him on. We raced across field and meadow, blurry bushes and dissipating dust the only sign we had crossed. Not a care in the world, not a chore to be heard, just two youths enjoying the world.

The fields so green, the meadows so bright.

A time for play, a space for fun.

No thought of time, just joy and light.

First, the rounding up of cattle; after that, we check the fences, then lastly, a brushing down. This was the proper way of things. This was the way Cash and I had come to know. Our routine was set. We each knew our given tasks. The farm wouldn’t take care of itself after all. Cow herded, fences in good repair, brushed and fed, we said our goodbyes for the night.

In the morning came Cash’s new partner, a wiry female with a pale coat and slim build. I didn’t think Cash would take a liking to her. How wrong I was. To stud so early in life, such a surprise it was to me. I thought this would be the end of Cash and me as friends. I thought he would be more concerned with raising and rearing, but work on he did, diligent as ever, his new foal not slowing him down. Not for one beat.

Sickness, sickness, catching fright.

Fever catcher, illness sight.

Hot and heavy, passing night.

I didn’t know beasts of his kind could feel such sorrow. I suppose any parent losing their child and spouse would be tormented, though. I tried to cheer Cash up as best I could. Tried to quicken our pace, to fly through the hills like we used to when we were both young. Nothing worked. I couldn’t figure out how to get him back to his old self.

I was his only friend now, his only companion. He had no one else to play with, not that he was ever in the mood to gallop around anymore. It was my duty to protect him, to bring him out of his slump.

It felt like years that we went on like this, a slow, trudging, weighed-down thing. Like sleepwalking through life, burdened by the loss of a true love. It was often I thought he would lose his balance on a patch of rough terrain, so weary and woesome his movements were.

Eventually, though, things got better, almost. The pain and suffering I could feel within him lessened. Washed away by the years rolling on, time as the only means to flee the pain, though never quite offering a true escape. Our new normal was a rougher, more disgruntled thing. I was okay with it, I knew that Cash couldn’t be expected to have the same spring in his step that I once knew. That was okay, that was enough.

In the dusk the two delight.

On a horse soft falls night.

With a jolt, the beast kicks in the air.

Then comes silence—and sharpness of fear.

I was so tired. Always tired. I tried my best to still go out with Cash to ride. I knew it was important. He had lost his mare and their foal so long ago, but still, it pained him greatly. I had to keep going for him. I had to.

I tried so hard. I always tried. Eventually, though, I could do no more. Weak legs buckled under my bowed back. I was getting old, far too old.

Laying down, Cash looked at me from up above with tear-filled eyes.

Don’t cry, Cash. You’ll be okay, you’ll see. I just need a rest, to close my eyes for a time, you’ll see.

I felt cold at first, knowing this was how it was to be. And looking up at Cash I remembered how we used to be free.

Oh, to feel the wind again, to ride with him, I would do anything to have that once more. I would do anything to see him smile again, to see joy in his eyes. I would give anything to stand proud once more on the hill in the back field, eating clover while Cash whistled his tune.

In those last moments, as my eyelids felt heavier and heavier, I got my wish.

Cash bent down, wiping tears from red eyes, and he put a hand on my head.

“You’re a good a horse as any a man could ask for, Charlie. A good a partner as could be.”

I hope you’ll be okay without me, I wish I could tell him, but time was too short now. I couldn’t be with him forevermore.