At last, Pegasus shares some of his story with Karen, and she learns that just as her CP was the result of arrogance and a big, fragile ego in her pediatrician, so her horse’s broken hoof was the result of a young boy raging out of control.
Scene 11: How His Hoof was Broken
One afternoon, there were some boys here at the carousel. There were three of them, to be exact. They were laughing and having a great time. Suddenly, one of them, a lad with a shock of red hair, became mischievous and agitated. He seemed to be a bully from the way he carried on with a nature both dissatisfied and discontent. He came across acting tough.
The bully alternately antagonized and egged on the other two boys. He was so completely out of control of himself that he needed to control someone else. His ego was so big, but so fragile, that he had to hurt other people to feel important to himself. He was afraid, but he dared not show it. He did not know how to show his true feelings or express them, but what he did know how to do was to hurt others and to take advantage of their weaknesses. He had a serious character defect. He couldn’t relate to people. He felt alone and he resented anyone who displayed any sort of emotion or happiness. He resented anything he wasn’t in control of. He provoked the others into violent acts, like throwing rocks at each other. Then, with fire in his eyes, he whipped out a glass bottle from his pants pocket. He ran toward us horses, his face tense and on fire with scorn and disrespect.
‘I’ll show them who’s boss!’ he exclaimed, ‘Then they’ll know! I’m going to splatter this ink all over one of these stupid horses! And you’re going to help me or else!’ he growled with venom.
The youngest spoke up nervously. ‘Don’t do that! I like riding these horses, and other people do, too. Why would you want to hurt them?’
If you don’t shut up, I’ll pour this ink into your mouth instead of onto the horse!’ he shouted.
He reached out his grubby hands and grabbed the younger boy by the shirt collar. The redhead with the fiery heart was too self-absorbed to listen to the other boy. He couldn’t understand that what he was doing had consequences. He couldn’t think in the long term. He could only focus on the now. He could only focus on the damage he was causing. He could only focus on intimidating the well-meaning boys with him. This made him feel good. This emboldened him for a while, and took his mind off how scared, cowardly, unnerved, and nasty he really was.
The other children could not stop him. He was enraged. He splattered ink everywhere. He tried playing Zorro by pulling out a pocket knife and flailing it around. The other boys were terrified of him and left. The nasty redhead grinned in triumph and victory. In a flash, everything turned chaotic. This hoodlum did not understand that behaving like a thug would not make him feel better or seem more important. This kind of meaningless anger had to be channeled, as you and I do, Kitten.
He became so infuriated that he began wrecking the carriages on the merry-go-round. He vandalized some of the horses with his ink. He became even more defiant when he saw that the carousel crew had spotted him. They were coming straight at him. Scrambling for cover and shaking with fear, he threatened them with his knife.
He and the tall cowboy who helped you onto my back circled the merry-go-round several times. At last, the wrangler got close enough to rush at the boy. Then, from the boy’s hand, the knife came flying fast. He tried to hit the cowboy, but fortunately, he missed him, and it careened off the floor. But it bounced right into my hoof, slicing into me. I couldn’t believe that someone could be so cruel and mean. He was as heartless and cold as a predatory fish!
In next to no time, the carnival owners called the horse doctor. She came quickly, right after the police, who took away the boy. She did what she could. Sadly, though, she could only fix me so much. Nevertheless, I didn’t let my spirit suffer. I learned something that day. I learned that outside appearance is not as important as many people think. It’s the inside that counts the most. It’s the intangible, the indefinable, and the indescribable.”
©2021, Karen Lynn-Chlup. All rights reserved.