I huffed as Mrs. Bander droned on in her monotonous voice as she explained the vertical angle therom for the millionth time this hour. The seventy year old woman probably thought we were still in the first semester of the school year. I, along with my fellow bored classmates, stared at the clock. Two more ticks before the final bell.
Rrrrrring! I bolted out of my seat with my geometry book and notes and rushed out into the busy hallway of Uniontown High. I followed the flow of freshmen, sophomores, juniors, and seniors until I came to my locker. I packed my bag and hurried out to the bus.
I took the back seat and plugged into my Ipod. I nodded my head to the beat of Pumped Up Kicks. I stared out the window as the small town turned into the thin greenery of South East Virginia. The kids in front of me socialized and joked around with each as one by one, or two, left the bus as their respective stops come along until finally the Davis Ranch insignia appeared down the road a short ways off. I packed my Ipod away and shouldered my leather, messenger bag.
I hurried down the aisle of the bus praying for the best. No such luck, Amelia Roberto stuck out her foot out and I was sent tumbling down to the dusty floor of the bus. I flinched as he high-pitched, scratchy giggle rose above the vibrato of the rest of the people on the bus. The driver hushed everyone down as I picked myself up from the ground and dusted my pants off.
"See you tomorrow, Dip-Stick Delilah." her snarky, soprano whisper made me want to pop her into the next millenia. But I restrained myself
"Whatever, Roberto." I replied. She snorted as I hurried off the bus and down the quarter-mile long driveway. My messenger bag thumped against my jean clad thighs as I hurried along, the March sun beating down on me. My buckle-riding boots kicked up the dust as I removed my red and black racing striped and checkered bolero jacket and hung it around my waist.
My ash blonde hair fell in messy layers to my shoulders. My aqua-marine eyes squinted at the pasture to my left, searching for a mare, Buttercup. She was eleven months along in her pregnancy. She was due any day now, and I was prepared for my horse. This foal, colt or filly, will be my racing horse.
I would care for it and train it. Uncle Jake promised, and Uncle Jake never fails to keep a promise.
But, what made this foal so special was that it would be a descendant of Secretariat, Sea-Biscuit, and War Admiral. I had down my homework and did the genealogy of Buttercup and Nightingale's Wing - the sire and great-great- grandfoal of Secretariat and was known for his stamina. Buttercup was a direct blood-tie to Seabiscuit by several generations of purebreading with Seabiscuit's descendants until the sire for her came along. He was an unnamed horse that had War Admiral's blood, but none of his racing qualities.
I'm praying that the racing gene skipped him and would come with this foal. I had planned this foal to the very last detail until it was conceived.
I pushed the screen door aside and dumped my bag and jacket on the coat rack.
"Uncle Jake? Aunt Leah? I'm home!" I called as I shuffled through the fridge and pulled out a cold bottle of water, "I'm home!" I called again when no one answered the first time. Silence.
My heart stopped. Was it time? I dropped the bottle in the sink and ran through the large, two-story, Victorian ranch house to the back porch and down the beaten path to the stables.
"Uncle!" I shouted as I skidded to a stop at the end of the row of stables. My eyes landed on a panting, sweaty Buttercup with Uncle Jake, Aunt Leah, and Joshua West, the young ranch hand that handled the cattle and harvesting. Buttercup squealed as she pushed.
"One more and the foal'll be out, Josh." Uncle Jake said, not bothering to notice me, "I need you to steady the head while I slide her out and Leah will cut the cord." he directed as Buttercup's panting increased as she prepared to push again.
I watched as a miracle happened before my eyes and God brought life into the world. Aunt Leah snipped the cord and tossed it aside as the foal squirmed before settling at its mother's side. The foal was beautiful, even covered in bodily fluids.
She was a dark brown with a black mane and tail. And upon her forehead, between her bright, dark brown eyes was a perfectly shaped white cross. Buttercup rolled onto her knees and sniffed the newborn before she began to clean her.
"Looks like you've got yourself a filly, Deli, what're you going to do with her?" Josh asked me as he sat beside me on the bench as he wiped his hands clean.
"I'm going to name her first, then, I'm going to race her." I replied as I stared at the knobby-kneed foal struggle to stand. She fell every time, but she kept trying for an hour before she was steady enough to stand. She was fuzzy and scrawny looking. Uncle Jake frowned.
"She seems smaller than what she should be." he muttered, he had noticed her abnormal size as well. He shuffled around a cabinet for a bit before returning with a measuring tape. I gnawed my lip as he measured and muttered incoherent opinions.
"What is it, Jacob?" Aunt Leah asked, finally getting impatient after a few minutes.
"This little girl is premature, we mis-judged the conceiving date, Leah." He replied, "She's maybe nine, nine and a half months. Yet she's already starting to walk. It's...it's a miracle."
"Miracle..." I thought out loud, "That's her name, Miracle." it fit too.
Funny thing is, I was premature, too, when I was born. But, my mom didn't survive. Strange that God works in mysterious ways.
This is a story that I will NOT delete, please review, I want feedback!