~Born of the Sky~
The long grasses were whispering in the light wind. Elsie was wearing her hip-to-ankle leather chaps, jeans, boots, and a large, stained white tee shirt. The bay quarter horse beside her was still huffing from their run while she was washing him off at the wash rack. He was such a loving horse; she didn't even need to tie him up to the post in order for him to stay put. He was getting a little lazier these days from his age, but he still had the heart of a lion. He was a gift to her on her eighth birthday, and she was now sixteen years old.
It was how she spent most Sunday evenings, riding the trails with Dexter. There was a lot of grassland hills back beyond her family's land that she rode down to and ran him. Her mother was inside, likely making dinner. She wondered if she'd invited the neighbors over across the street again.
She scrubbed Dexter until his hair was silky and clean. The water was still dripping from his round belly. The click-clack of his hooves followed behind her without any use of a lead until they reached his stall. "Don't you be stubborn tonight, it's your bedtime," she said, her voice bright and colored with a little southern accent. The door slid open along the rails as she opened it, but the metal-on-metal sound was replaced with that of a rattlesnake's tail end. Dexter's ears flipped up and forward, and he stepped forward to poke his big head into the stall.
"Dexter, no!" Elsie threw her arm out against his chest. The sudden movement scared him and he backed out of the stall. Once he was out of the way, she went to retrieve the shovel left on the side of the stall. When she returned, she found the snake coiled in the back corner of the stall. She stepped in slowly and carefully. The snake rattled its tail, a rhythm of music, the last song some people have ever heard. She had lifted the shovel above her head and was aiming for the head of the snake. She heard boots stomping down the dirt road that led to the single stall, and then: "Elsie!"
"Shit," she muttered, quite low enough that her father wouldn't hear.
"Gimme that shovel," he took it from her and cut off the snake's head with no effort at all. "If it got scales, means you don't touch it."
"Sorry. I had to kill it to put away Dexter."
"Next time, get me. Your mother made dinner and the neighbors are on their way over so go inside and clean yourself up." He walked away.
"Yes, sir."
Elsie hurried to put Dexter away after carrying out the corpse of the rattlesnake on a long stick. She went inside and took off her chaps before washing her hands up to her elbows--she found that dirt liked to hide on the sides of her forearms when she wasn't paying attention and then her Momma would scold her. Her long blonde hair occasionally fell into the water running from the tap before she had the chance to brush it back. She heard the voices of the neighbors drift through the entryway of her home and a slight blush colored her round cheeks. He was here. Here, in her house. She straightened up the new long-sleeved red blouse she'd changed into before making her way down the spruce spiral staircase.
