Cindy R Moore is already an experienced author but she has not been published…..Lingh.nl welcomes her story, entitled “The Aisle”, one of the judges favorites. Thank you Cindy for considering Lingh as the sire of your next foal. We look forward to many more stories about your experiences.
The Aisle
I stand in the aisle, my heart pounding. I tried holding my breath to quiet the jackhammer raging on in my head, but nearly passed out on the stained cement. A lone horse whinnied in the distance as the group returned from their trail ride, yet it hardly registered in my ears. My eyes are focused on Dr. Ryker’s tanned face, searching for a sign. Time seems to go backwards as the doctor performs his exam in silence, listening, feeling and listening again. A grey barn cat nuzzled up against my legs as I try to drown out his roar. On another day I would scoop him up and rub his ears while pulling a meaty treat from my left hip pocket, but not today. Today I cannot steal my prying eyes from the doctor’s face for even just a moment.
As if he can feel my gaze burning through his skin, Dr. Ryker glances up and smiles. He shifts his tall muscular body away from me and listens some more. His broad shoulders and strong back fill my view. I close my eyes tight, trying to block out the past.
It was just eighteen months ago when I stood here in the same aisle with the doctor as he told me that there was nothing left he could do. I collapsed into the stall and stroked my mare’s neck, being carful not to look in the direction of the stillborn foal lying at the back of the stall. The scent on blood and fluids assaulted my nose, causing my stomach to leap into my throat, emptying its contents on the pine shaving covered floor.
It had happened sometime in the night, my mare went into premature labor. All alone in the dark stall, she thrashed about, calling out for her human friends to help, yet her cries fell on deaf ears. Kicking through her pain, a board was broken loose from the wall. It was that rouge board that found its way impaled in my mare’s black silky neck. I arrived at daybreak to a gruesome scene of the mare lying in a pool of her own blood with her dead foal shimmering in the rising sun that filtered through the windows.
My world came crashing in that day. My dreams, my hopes, and my ambitions had all been riding on that one mare. Now, a year and I half later, after working months of overtime, selling off all extra tack, and extinguishing my savings, I purchased Estrada. The tall bay princess with a bold head and cutting eyes demands respect wherever she goes.
After months of searching I found the perfect mate, a broad chested stallion with a proven blood line, known for throwing dark foals. My dreams are rekindled. Contracts were signed, monies were sent and semen was shipped.
I stood in the aisle as Dr. Ryker opened the packed of shipped semen and I watched as his face fell. “There seems to have been an error in the shipping,” he explained. “This semen is a week old, at the very end of viability.”
“What does this mean? How could that happen?” I asked, not waiting for an answer. I snatched the paper work from his hands, scanning the words with my eyes, but not seeing what was written. My head was a top spinning out of control. Sure another shipment could be sent, but there would be fees, vet costs, medications… My pocketbook was nearly dry.
With a gentle hand on my shoulder, Dr. Ryker spoke, “Lets try this one. Maybe we’ll get lucky.”
Through puffy, tear filled eyes I gave a weak nod.
Now, several weeks later I stand here again with Dr. Ryker as he tries to detect signs of life growing inside Estrada’s precious womb. I watch as he stands tall, towering over me, his back turned, looking into the dark eyes of my mare. I watch as his shoulders rise with a deep inhale, I hear a rush of wind flowing from his lungs and I freeze as he slowly, yet deliberately turns to face me. I am sure my blood has stopped flowing, all color departed from my icy skin. I am afraid to look, afraid to breathe. Silence is in the air. Unable to speak, my eyes plead…Then I see it, beginning in the corner of his chapped lips, a smile.
