When Storm Clouds Hover

6: Dom - Midnight ride

Dom pressed the old-style latch, and the door of the stables swung open. A soft whinny welcomed him. The sound of horses shuffling and stomping, along with the aroma of the immaculate tack room, calmed him in a way no human could.

His beloved polo pony, Capt'n Thunderbolt, moved forward with graceful ease at the sound of his entrance and greeted his master with a nudge. Bolt's velvet nose was cool to the touch. His breath, was warm and comforting, shifting Dom's thoughts away from his feelings towards his parents and the shock of Pascal's news.

Dom wrapped his arms around the pony's neck and inhaled the scent of his new washed mane.

'Want to go for a ride, boy?' he whispered.

Bolt responded with a gentle disapproving buck that made Dom laugh. Smart horse: knows he's not allowed to ride at night. 'You're such a people-pleaser,' he teased.

The pony snorted and blinked in the moonlight, his eyelashes cast shadows over his nose, softening the displeasure in his gaze.

Dom lifted the rope of the stable and gently led his horse out into the night.

The sound of dry leaves rustling in the yard signaled a light breeze in the air. Dom clutched gently at Bolt's mane, and his horse dropped his neck. Then, in one swift maneuver, he was on Bolt's bare back, his thongs slipping to the ground.

A gentle squeeze of his calf into Bolt's flank directed him towards the adjacent airstrip. Dom's father would have a fit if he saw them, but he was confident Bolt could sprint the strip in the dark without a problem.

As the pair trotted over the farm boundary picking up pace, the ghostly image of the near-empty dam rose out of the darkness, like a symbol of everything going wrong in Dom's life. He tried not to think about when the drought would end. The topic took up too much airtime in his life as it was, and he couldn't afford the worry, after all, he would have to face the music tomorrow at school.

As they neared the top of the airstrip, Dom leaned forward and whispered. 'C'mon boy.'

The grass on the airstrip had long since been eaten by passing livestock, and Bolt's iron-shod feet sounded like thunder pounding the dry earth as they galloped.

The moon shone brightly in the cloudless night, laying a light path like a strip of ribbon. Suddenly out of nowhere, shadowy figures appeared alongside them, a troupe of swamp wallabies seeking to outrun Bolt. Dom clutched the pony's mane, his shirt whipped up in the wind. They galloped along, side by side, with Bolt forcing the daredevil marsupials to the edge of the strip until they disappeared into the darkness.

The wind rushing past smacked Dom in the face, reminding him of all that he loved about life on the farm. He couldn't bear to think of losing it.

The realization that things would never be the same with Pascal again was also just sinking in. He urged his horse faster and faster. They sprinted towards the end of the airstrip, and before he realized it, the black brush loomed.

At the last possible moment, Dom said, 'Whoa boy!' in a low even voice. He sensed Bolt's gears spontaneously notching down as if he were crossing the line on the polo pitch and clutched his neck to keep from flying over the top of his head.

There was a light sweat forming on Bolt's coat and Dom knew it was time to put him to bed. They turned for home.

*

From the stables, Dom could see the lights on in the farmhouse. Not a good sign. As soon as he walked through the kitchen door, his father was on him. Someone must have seen him out riding.

'Where do you get off taking a thirty-thousand-dollar horse for a midnight-gallivant?' his dad yelled. 'And with no hard hat! There's no health-care plan for that kind of stupidity!'

Dom felt a sense of deja vu. They'd had this argument before.

'Dad, relax, it's not like we were jumping fences,' he muttered. Being in the wrong and knowing it; didn't make Dom any less resentful of his father's outburst. His moods were becoming unbearable.

'Not the point, son! What the hell's gotten into you?'

'Not now, Dad', Dom implored, moving past his father swiftly and into the corridor. He didn't want a return of the screaming match they'd had earlier that week.

As he walked to his room, he could feel a barbed stare on his back, thankfully, followed by silence. He'd be leaving for school with his mum before dawn, so the issues with his dad would lay low for a while.