Fiction by Sarah Das Gupta
Hi! I’m Susie. I have brittle bone disease. But I don’t want to bother you with all that medical stuff. It means my bones fracture easily. I’m ten and I’ve had nearly twenty breaks. I look a bit funny but I don’t bother too much now. I’ve had lots of stares and insults. They just bounce off – fly past me somewhere into space!
When I was eight, I went on a bus. Didn’t usually go on buses ‘cause they jolt you too much.
That day I was with my sister and my best friend, Jodie. A gang of boys got on. They made funny noises and shouted ‘monkey face’ and ’chimpanzee’. I broke one of my cheek bones when I was seven. Kids in school called me the same names sometimes. I didn’t care much.
But these boys started throwing coins. They were hard. I was scared of breaking something. The gang said my lips looked like a money box. I thought they might push coins into my mouth.
I meant to tell you; my teeth are a bit brittle. I’ve lost a few. Jodie said they were ‘stupid’ and ‘ignorant’. I just kept my head down. It was ok ‘cause the driver stopped the bus and sorted them out. I haven’t been on a bus again.
I’m not supposed to do sport, well only swimming. My walking’s not too good. My mum thinks I’m getting slower. I think it’s ‘cause I’m tired.
My best day so far was when Mum took me and Lizzy to a riding school. Lizzy’s my baby sister. I call her that but she’s much taller than me. The ponies were lovely. They ate more of my carrots than Lizzy’s. She said I had more in my pocket than her. She was just jealous. I knew the ponies liked me better!
I couldn’t sleep that night. It’s hard anyway. You see, I’m propped up in bed. My breathing’s bad at night. But that night was different. I knew it straightaway. I wanted a pony! I wanted one just for me. I could look after it. It might take me longer than Lizzy and her friends. But my pony wouldn’t mind. I’d get there in the end!
It took almost a year. I pestered Dad most! When we passed horses on the road. When I saw them on tele – in the Derby or the Queen’s Jubilee, I said, “You know what I want, Dad!” Once I just cried when I saw the perfect pony in a magazine.
I knew he’d give in eventually and he did! Someone he met had an old pony. It was too small for his son. No problem. I told you I’m small. When I saw Barbary, I had to have her! I loved her chestnut coat with flecks of white. Like those glass balls you shake, and snow starts falling. She knew I’d hidden some carrots. She followed me. She nuzzled very gently, pushing her nose into my pocket. Her muzzle was soft as velvet. I sat on her for a few minutes. For the first time I was taller than Lizzy, nearly taller than Dad. I didn’t have a saddle. I could feel her warm back touching me.
Most people don’t like touching me or being close. Mum says they don’t want to hurt me. I’m not sure. Barbary didn’t mind at all. I could put my face against hers. She seemed to like it!
Next, we had to buy a special saddle. It had a metal bar across the front. I could grab it if I felt a bit wobbly. The reins were thin. They were some sort of white material. I could manage them easily.
I learnt fast. Soon I could trot, turn, stop, start. Barbary was learning too. She began to listen to my voice. Of course, Mum had fits! She had nightmares of me falling off. Being trampled by Barbary. I knew I wouldn’t fall. She would look after me. Lizzy joked and said, “If you fall, Barbary will haul you up with her teeth! “
One day we cantered up the hill in the field. I’d never gone faster on my own than a slow walk, dragging my right foot behind me. Now the wind blew in my face. The hedge flew past! Lizzy said it wasn’t a proper canter. By then, I didn’t listen to her much. I knew it was a real canter!
June 14th would be the greatest day of my life. It would be my first Horse Show. Well, more of a small gymkhana really. The evening before, I washed Barbary’s mane and tail. Actually, I did the bottom of the tail. Mum did the rest. Mum thought she liked the full beauty treatment. I thought she liked the bucket of horse nuts better!
As I went to bed, all I wanted next day was to win one rosette. I dreamed of tying it on Barbary’s bridle. I didn’t expect a first, second or even a third. The white ones for a ‘good try’ would be great!
It was the last event, Musical Sacks. Music plays. When it stops, you have to dismount and stand on a sack. They take one sack away each time. I was allowed to ride into the ring. Barbary stood on the sack. I couldn’t get on and off on my own. Seven riders were left.
There were only six rosettes. The music stopped. Barbary trotted into the middle arena. She stood on the last sack! I was out next go. I didn’t care. Mum tied the pink rosette on Barbary’s bridle. With all the other winners, we trotted round the ring. Mum cried. Dad took a photo. Lizzy muttered something about not playing the game properly. I didn’t care. I had the pink rosette with me in bed all night!
Sarah Das Gupta is a retired teacher from near Cambridge, UK. She has work published in over thirty different magazines, including: Paddle, Waywords, Dipity, Pure Haiku, Rural Fiction, Green Ink, among others. Her interests include most subjects except computer games and football.
