by Karen Dugan Holman | Photos courtesy of Karen Dugan Holman
It was a fabulous Saturday. It was a day full of sunshine, warm temperatures,
and a light breeze. We were staying at home together as a family. Mom was not teaching. Dad was not flying. I anticipated the day with excitement because we were all home at the same time. The plan was that my entire family would work outside completing a large to-do list that my parents had compiled. They had a knack for finding projects that would keep each of us three sisters occupied and nearby. With the amount of land surrounding the house and pond that needed to be maintained, there was always more than enough to keep us busy.
We each had a chore list for the day. My older sister, Connie, was given the job of cleaning out the barn. She needed to rake out the manure and old straw, clean out the trough, fill it with new hay, and fill the old milk can with oats. That was a hard job.
My chore was to help Mom hang laundry on the clothesline and clean the dogs’ water bowls. I would bring Mom the clothespins and pieces of clothing one at a time from the laundry basket. I liked that chore because I could help Mom and talk to the dogs at the same time.
Next, I scrubbed the water bowls, and that was not easy for a five-year-old little girl. I would dump out the old water in each bowl and start to scrub. I had a large scrub brush that was difficult for me to maneuver. I would then refill each bowl with fresh water.
Mom was trimming her roses and zinnias in the back flower bed. It was a continuous job for her to keep the weeds out of her gardens. Kellie, my younger sister, gave
her a hand. Dad was spraying the weeds and occasionally a sprig of poison ivy. The weeds could get out of control rapidly if not sprayed and mowed. When Dad completed that process, we could walk along the banks casting our fishing lines without worry of tangling them or getting itchy from the weeds. Controlling the weeds also prevented snakes from hiding in the tall grass.
A Special Horse and Saddle
Connie had a horse named Twister. He was white with large chocolate brown spots over his body and a brown-black mane, tail, and forelock. He was a spirited yet gentle horse who loved spending time with people. He was a good horse and was not known to run off. Connie had saddled Twister and let him graze near the pond on the clover, with his reins loosely dangling along the ground. Dad agreed to keep an eye on him while she finished cleaning her room.
Connie had saved for more than two years to buy a beautiful new English saddle. She took her horsemanship very seriously and took riding lessons, practicing very hard. She became an accomplished rider and entered many shows. Twister was a very willing participant who worked hard to help Connie achieve her goals.
In the pond was a cove full of lily pads and cattails. The frogs loved to jump from one lily pad to another. I would sit under the bald cypress and gaze at the bullfrogs. Their legs were so powerful and propelled them such great distances! I loved to hear their songs in the summer evenings.
Taking a break from my chores, I caught myself daydreaming at the lily-pad cove when I heard Spot barking. It was not a full-fledged bark but more of a “Swoof.” He had been swimming in the big pond and moved close to me to shake off. I leaned back, and he rolled over on his back and allowed me to scrub his tummy. He was not exactly clean. In fact, he smelled like fish. That is when I noticed Twister gazing at the lily pads. Do horses eat lily pads? They eat grass, so why not? I had an idea and headed toward Dad to explain what I wanted to do.
Like Dad, I have large brown eyes, and I was learning to use them to persuade him to go along with my plans. I wanted to sit on Twister. I knew he would say no, Connie would say no, Mom would absolutely say no. But I was determined to sit on that horse. I thought I should be direct and come right out and ask. Dad was hot and working hard. I knew it would not be good to break the rhythm of his work. He did not have enough time to finish all his work, and I knew he wanted to get as much done as possible before sunset. I needed to convince him quickly.
I scampered straight in front of him and started my explanation. “Dad, could you put me on Twister? I won’t go anywhere, I just want to sit on him. I promise not to bother you again. I just want to see what it is like.” He looked up and of course, said “NO, you are too little. Wait until your legs can fit in the stirrups.” I knew it would be years before I grew that tall. I begged and pleaded. He asked me, “Is your room clean?”
“Dang,” I thought. I said, “No, I’ll go clean it. Then can I sit on him?”
Dad, thinking that cleaning my room would take me hours, said, “We will see.” That was a yes to me.
Fulfilling the Bargain
I ran inside as fast as I could. I purposely ran right past Connie’s room. If I told her that Dad had said, “We’ll see about sitting on Twister,” she would put a stop to that. I threw all of my Snoopy toys into the toy box, stacked the shoes in the bottom of my closet, pulled my sheets up, and tried to pull my bedspread up and over the pillow. I repeated that step to tidy Kellie’s bed too because we shared a room. I got the dust rag and went over the tops of the furniture.
I dragged out the enormous, heavy red Kirby vacuum cleaner. I could barely budge it. I was not allowed to use an electrical plug, so I had to ask Connie to plug it in for me. My vacuuming job did not look very well done. I’ll just have to tell Dad the truth — I tried. That must be worth something, right? I looped the cord around the clips on the handle of the vacuum and dragged it back down the long hallway to the closet.
I ran as fast as I could back to Dad. He looked at me and started to laugh. “Did you already clean your room?” he asked.
Out of breath, I explained, “I picked up my Snoopy toys and put them in the
toy box, put my shoes into the closet, and made both of our beds. I also dusted and tried to vacuum.” I immediately continued, “I did not plug it in, I asked Connie to do it for me.”
Dad replied, “That was a good choice and I’m proud of you for working so hard, but I really am not sure that sitting on Twister is such a good idea. Do you think you can sit still and not encourage him to move?”
“Of course!” I shouted. He hesitated and bit his lip. I danced around in excitement. He was actually considering it! His reply surprised me. He reluctantly said, “OK, but you must promise to sit very still. Do not move or talk. Can you do that?” “I promise!” I said in great excitement. I could hardly contain myself. Dad lifted me up onto Twister. I had a difficult time straddling the saddle. My legs were not long enough to come close to resting in the stirrups, so I stuck my feet in a stirrup strap near the skirt. Dad told me to hang onto Twister’s mane and just sit very still. His reins were still dangling along the ground. I felt so tall. I could see over the tall weeds to the lily pads on the big pond. I felt as though I could see for miles.
Dad went back to his spraying, and I sat on Twister. I felt grown up. I knew Connie would not be happy about this, but I did have Dad’s permission. I remembered that Connie’s riding instructor had told her to squeeze her legs in the saddle, so I did the same. I saw Mom stand up with her arms full of flowers, and she waved at me. I could tell by her body language that she was not happy that I was sitting on Twister. She was very protective of her three daughters and disapproved of this particular activity. I knew not to yell to assure her that I was fine for fear I would spook Twister into moving. Mom went back to gardening. One problem was solved!
Stepping into a Surprise
That’s when Twister took a step. I grabbed the saddle and pulled on his mane. I heard Spot growling. He was still under the tree but was now alerted and sitting up straight. Dad had fired up the push lawn mower and was mowing the edge of the pond. Twister took another step and then another. I could not reach the dangling reins. I hung on as he continued to walk through the clover. He stopped to munch on some tender grass and then took another step. I tried to stay quiet like Dad had told me to, but this moving was exciting. I was riding a horse!
Twister’s head came up, and he started to walk quickly toward the cove. I thought to myself, “He must need a drink. All of the grass he has been eating has made him thirsty.” Spot was now barking, and I was sure I was going to be in trouble with Dad. But could he even hear me?
Twister got to the edge of the pond, and the strangest thing happened. He did not stop to get a drink. He just kept on walking right into the middle of the lily pads. Twister was splashing and stomping through them. My mind was rushing. What about the frogs? What about the saddle? If it gets wet, I am one dead sister. Earlier, I had wiggled my feet into those straps, and they were now tightly stuck. I was too young for swimming lessons, and I only knew how to dog-paddle. If I could get my feet out from the straps, dog-paddling might get me back to the bank. And what about snakes — the water moccasins I had learned to avoid? I just held on for dear life.
Then Twister started to lean, and I squeezed my legs even harder. He began to roll into the water. My legs were getting wet, then my waist, and then I was underneath this very large animal. I opened my eyes and saw murky water, bubbles, and stringy roots of lily pads.
That’s when I felt a jerk and gasped for air. I swallowed water, unable to get my feet loose. I felt the tugging again and saw Dad’s hand reaching for my feet. I was trying to hold my breath but began to feel dizzy. I felt Dad’s arms around me under the water. I coughed as he held me tight, squishing the life from me. He carried me to the bank, where I saw my mother running to see what I had done. My head was pounding almost as hard as my heart was beating in my chest. I tried not to show fear. I coughed and coughed. I looked up at Dad, trying not to cry, showing my bravery, and asked him, “Was Twister trying to hurt me?”
Dad stood up, looking down at me, and there it was — THE LOOK. Those eyes of his could give me a chill. He asked, “Why did you nudge Twister? I thought I told you not to do that, not to make a sound or a move!”
I was crushed. I immediately replied, holding back the tears, “I did not nudge him. I did not click my tongue. I sat perfectly still.”
Dad snapped back, “You must have done something!” He turned to Mom and calmed her. Twister was still standing in the pond with a smirk on his face and a dripping-wet saddle. Yikes, I am in big trouble.
Spot Sparks a Rescue
Spot was sitting next to me, and Dad let me know that Spot was the one to thank. He had barked and had run in front of the lawn mower, stopping Dad, alerting him that something was wrong. Dad patted Spot on the head and turned to get Twister. Once again, my bond with Spot had protected me. He had saved my life.
I turned away from Dad with my head hanging low and began to walk back to the house. I was dripping, and my favorite Red Ball Jets tennis shoes were sloshing with each step. I had a lump in my throat but refused to cry. I had not meant to disappoint Dad. He actually believed I had made Twister go into the pond.
Then I heard Dad say with a deep but calm voice, “Karen Lynn, where are you going?” I just kept walking. “Are you going to wear those lily pads hanging from your pigtails all day?” he laughed. I felt my lump
full of tears turn to anger. He was laughing at me! Dad always had a way of making my tears and anger seem very foolish, a waste of good energy. But sometimes it made me mad. That’s when he surprised me by saying, “You know you have to get right back on him.”
I slowly turned around and looked directly at Dad. I’m not quite sure if it was the murky pond water dripping from my yellow terrycloth romper or if I had wet my pants, but the one thing I knew for sure was that I had just swallowed my jumbo piece of Super Dubble Bubble Gum I had bought from the Ben Franklin store on Main Street for a penny.
