Like a Band-aid

A long overdue installment I've worked very hard on. This is the first piece I've spent several days tweaking, re-shading and adding detail. Of course, this is Strike It Rich ("Striker"), son of *Hathien603's gorgeous Reno. Finally, I do him a bit of justice!

Pardon the story! I won't blame you for skipping over it... I enjoyed writing it very much. Just another addition to the NHS drama.

Please, if you critique, be constructive. I spent many hours on this and wouldn't want to stare at an imperfection every time I look at it. And, MERRY CHRISTMAS! Unlike my home, it apparently hasn't snowed much in Kentucky. Enjoy!

PS: The scanner doesn't do it justice! It killed the sharpness and colors. I might rescan later...

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Striker tilted his head to the sky. His front hooves parted with the ground in triumph. He was king. King of these lands, and his ears were relaxedly backwards. There was nothing to be afraid of; nothing to hear. Nothing to fear and nothing to hear as he greedily sucked in the morning’s biting air. Winter had come. He knew it, and his subjects knew it. They screamed into the night, as if to protest the sudden, unwelcome change. He screamed into the night to silence them. Silence those fools who believed they could possibly be kings, too. Never. Never in a thousand years could they feel as strong as he felt; watch as sharply as he did and protect with as much vigor. His front hooves greeted the ground with a crash he knew could be heard for miles. Miles of his kingdom. His family. His mother. Now, she, too, was screaming to the sky. His powerful muscles surged as he covered the hardened ground towards her. His mother screamed. He screamed. His muscles screamed. Too far! Too far to cover, and her screams are afraid! Her screams are furious! They are FADING! No, Mother, NOOO! I will save you. I will save you because I am King. The small hill seemed like a mountain as he climbed it. His chilly blue eyes scraped the landscape. Mother, Mother, where is Mother? There! With a roar that tore at his throat like a knife, he chased the fence-line. All the while, she screamed. The rickety monster rattled as it dwindled down the gravel road. He had been in one of those monsters. They were nothing for the King’s mother to be afraid of. He called to her, encouraging her that everything would be alright. But it wouldn’t. Somehow he knew, and she knew. This was different. A sideways glance revealed his master near the stable. The woman who smelled like summer flowers with flaming hair. He stopped and called to her. Why? Why is Mother leaving? Master had her arms folded. She pawed at her eyes, and her shoulders trembled. She was not happy, but she was not saving Mother. The fence-line ended. And he couldn’t either.

Still shaken from the morning’s heart-wrenching instances, Rajial tried to distract herself with some overdue dish-washing. Her eyes were redder than they’d been in quite some time, and she just knew her nose was puffy and swollen. She’d insisted, wisely, that every new owner arrive on the same day between the hours of eight and ten. Better not to drag out the pain. Frostbite, Mischa, Two-Time and Annita were gone. To good homes, but gone and just in time for what could be the first snow of the season. The looming clouds of blacks and grays did nothing for her mood. Chevoda was out buying feed. Good. She didn’t want to be seen like this. Two dull knocks on the door shattered this wish. She dropped the rag and listlessly made her legs move.

Colt stood with his head slightly lowered and a tired look in his eyes. Her heart leapt for him. Could he possibly be as upset as she about losing her dear friends? When he saw her face, his brow furrowed with worry and concern. She laughed, looking to the ceiling.

“Raj, I’m so sorry.” He began. It was a mere whisper. His whisper matched the silence of the morning broken only by the occasional mockingbird. They never cried more than once, however, as if they, too, sensed the somber tone of the morning.

She took a deep breath. Do not cry in front of Colt.

“It had to be done.” She said numbly. Her voice was stronger than she’d predicted, “I just miss them already.”

She stood perfectly still and stared at the cold, tile floor as her vision blurred. She hated this floor. A filthy crack stood out to her. If only kitchens could properly function with carpets. Not very practical, but perhaps she’d buy one anyways.

Colt’s arms engulfed her mid-thought. She breathed deeply into his jacket. The cold zipper bit at her cheek, but she didn’t mind. He smelled so good. For the first time, she returned his embrace without reluctance. There were no expectations. No awkwardness about it. Just two people who needed to comfort each other, as friends. She couldn’t keep track of the time they held each other. It could have been a minute or ten, as far as she knew. A throaty sob escaped from her lips, and she bit them in defiance. His hold on her tightened. She let the tears fall. She hated how annoying certain tears were. Some fell quickly, but today, they took their sweet time rolling over the contours of her cheekbones and dragging their feet at her chin, hesitating to take the final plunge onto the kitchen floor. There, they landed with an ugly splat that seemed to echo across the walls of the dark, silent room.

She was the first to pull back, but he didn’t let go for a moment. She planted a spontaneous, slow kiss on his cheek. His arms slowly dropped to his sides as he released her. They stared at each other. Gosh, his eyes were beautiful. They weren’t the watery, pale blue seen so often. They were almost midnight blue in the center and branched out in a variety of shades to the icy iris edge. His eyes looked hurt. Was he feeling her hurt? He hadn’t exactly seemed like the sensitive type. Perhaps, she barely knew Colt Jackson at all. She abruptly closed her lips. She hadn’t realized they’d been parted. Rajial wanted very badly to kiss him, and from the subtle incline of his head, she guessed he was thinking the same thing...

The phone on the wall beside the sink rang, obnoxious, loud as ever. She jumped. It took her feet a second to move. Colt rubbed the back of his head and resumed looking towards the floor as she answered it.

“Yes, Chev, you’ve got the right feed.” Pause. “I know it’s not as high quality, but it’s still good.” Pause. “We’ll figure it out. We always do!” Pause. “I’ll see you in a bit, then.” She replaced the phone with a click. Sigh.

“I have to leave for a while.”

She froze with her hands on the edge of the counter. “Why?”

“My mother has cancer, and it’s advanced. She hadn’t even told me about it and probably wouldn’t have if the doctor hadn’t insisted upon her hiring someone to look after her.”

Rajial swallowed. The lump in her throat, like the tears, took its sweet time going down. She had known that Colt’s father had died when he was nine but never knew how. This didn’t seem like the appropriate time to ask. Never having met Mrs. Jackson, she still felt the emotional tug, feeling for the woman as well as Colt. Her eyes blurred again. Nearly a minute went by before she could speak, but he waited.

“I... I don’t know if I can do this without you, Colt.” She stuttered.

“I know you can.” He said in a firm voice. “I’ll have plenty of work in Dallas and the surrounding areas. I’m pretty well-known around there. I’ll be sure to send as much as I can without going under, myself. But Mama needs me right now. Raj... I’ll do my absolute best for the both of you.”

“You needn’t do that, Colt. It’s not right, and I’m done taking charity. God knows, I already owe you a small fortune.” She chuckled, not quite herself. He put his hands on her shoulders, but she didn’t turn to face him, “It isn’t your responsibility to take care of me.”

“I want to take care of you.” He snapped. She fought the tremors that would give her away, once again, “But I need to take care of my mother. I’m all she has.”

Her knuckles turned white. Her grip made the counter creak in agony. She wanted to break it.

“I understand,” She finally muttered. “Be sure to call sometimes, Colt, and send your mother my love. I’m going to miss you terribly. To me, you’re very---you’re a great help around the farm.” Stupid! That isn’t the only reason you want him to stay!

“On my honor.” He joked. She managed a smile for him.

“I guess you’re leaving right now, huh?” He nodded.

“Yeah. Like a band-aid, you just---Ahh! That’s a horrible thing to say!”

She laughed, and it was genuine. He wanted to make a quick getaway before hurting her further and hurting himself. Just like her adamant demands regarding the mares she’d lost today. She understood. Loss was a dreadful, torturous feeling. She blinked back another threatening bout of tears.

Their goodbye hug wasn’t nearly as lengthy as its predecessor. When they parted, she felt like they’d ripped themselves away from each other. She watched him trudge out the door and down the few steps. She watched his truck pull sluggishly onto the gravel road. She watched it disappear and had the faint, unpleasant feeling that she’d never see him again. Like a band-aid, indeed. ~


Art, Striker, characters and story (c) Me
Reno (c) *Hathien603