Here’s an excerpt from my novel HalfWorlder.
It’s Gil Scott’s destiny to save the Earth from destruction, but he never thought winning the heart of a girl would be harder than saving the world. Though every once in a while, Alexandra shows her true feelings. And what they have is “blue sparks” kind of love. Read on..
Alexandra lay hunched over a small wet body that wriggled with life, but another large one lay unmoving under a white sheet nearby that revealed what lay below it perfectly well.
A mare had given birth. Recently.
The foal was so new it hadn’t yet stood up.
But something had gone terribly wrong. The door was hanging open on the scene, but there was nothing left here that could escape.
Alexandra looked up, her face red and wet with so many tears. I stood there unmoving, looking down on her with shock. She wiped quickly at her face, still staring at me, like she could cover up what was there.
“Hey! Don’t do that,” I said suddenly, grabbing her hands together and kneeling down in front of her. The way I stopped her from trying to dry her eyes was almost a little rough. Enough to shock her into reality. “You don’t have to do that. It’s okay. I’m here with you now,” I finished.
She stilled herself, and her eyes transitioned from strong to pained in four seconds, her eyes and face seemingly collapsing in on themselves the way a face does when it tries but can’t stop the tears that hide just below the surface. Great lolling drops rolled slowly down her still-pretty face. Even pained as it was, tears sometimes do more to reveal inner beauty on an outer surface than anything else can. This was a soul that truly loved. And lost.
Looking into my eyes, she let go, and collapsed into my arms, her body wracked again by tears and heaving sobs, until she was too spent to cry anymore. She pulled back and wiped at her running nose with the back of her hand, absentmindedly wiping it in the fresh hay we sat on – hay that smelled sweet and earthy just like her. She pulled at her eyes with her hands trying to erase the tears there again, though this time not because she was trying to hide them, but because she was finally done.
“She was mine,” Alexandra said quietly. I looked over at the mare’s body lying just below the white sheet she had used to cry into. Her wet tears still marked the spot near the horse’s neck where she had buried her head and wept.
“Dakota,” she said, sniffing toward the dead horse, her nose still runny from crying. “It was only her first foal.”
The baby, who glistened solidly black, was still very much alive and rocking back and forth on the floor trying to find its legs. Alexandra got up and closed the stall door.
“I’m so sorry Alexandra,” I said as she sat back down and gently touched the little animal.
She sniffed again. “I just wish I could have done something differently. Called the vet sooner? Maybe it would have helped?” Her eyebrows rose. I looked over at the little horse. Looking back, I found Alexandra’s eyes intent on mine, wanting answers, her restless spirit quiet for once.
I sighed. “Dakota knows you loved her and did your best, Alexandra. It’s okay for you to feel the way you do though.” I had some experience in this. “We always question when we lose someone … what we could have done to change it, if we did this or that, would it have helped? But you can’t change what happened. You can only remember them and try to go on.”
My thoughts drifted away to my dad.
“I’m just really sorry this happened to you.” Too, I thought.
I took her hand in mine and she actually let me, sighing. I felt something electric, and probably blue, dance quietly between our hands but it was hidden between them. She looked up knowingly but didn’t pull away.