Horses, Tears, and Redemption

It had been twenty-four years since she had last seen it, but the place looked exactly the same. At least this is what Lisa thought as she was driven through the large arched gateway that announced your entrance to The Manner House. She stared out at the skeletal trees that lined the driveway as the cab drove her up to the front of the large plantation style house. Stepping out of the cab she looked up at the imposing house with it’s two stories of vast hauntingly empty verandas that wrapped around the building. Lisa was immediately overwhelmed by a cacophony of emotions as she stood there staring at the front door. Joy, love, anxiety, guilt, and anger seemed to flood her emotions all at once.

Pulling her coat tight against the chill of the cold winter day she decided to walk around the property before she faced whatever she was going to find behind that door. The sky was grey overhead completing the mood of this long awaited home coming. Dried leaves that covered the path leading to the back of the house crunched under her feet. Lisa couldn’t help but think back to a time when The Manner House use to be the jewel of the country side maintained by an army gardeners so that you wouldn’t have found a single blade of grass out line nor a single leaf upon the path. It was just a sign of the neglect that had over come the property since she had last been here.

Coming around the corner of the house Lisa pulled up short with a loud audible gasp. She stood there eyes wide mouth open in shock as she looked out over the once famous paddocks of the estate. Lisa swears she heard her heart breaking that day as she stood there taking in the run down paddocks. She was in complete disbelief that her father could let them fall in to such disrepair. She could remember back to the many occasions, when she would stand right where she stood now and look out through the split rail fencing painted perfectly white, and watch the horses running and kicking their feet up in play around the paddocks while now what stood before her was missing several rails and all the paint was long ago faded and chipped away. What stood out the most to her was the total lack of any sign of horses on the property.

Lisa made her way down to the stables. Stepping inside Lisa had to wait a minute to let her eyes adjust to the darkness. The stables had obviously long ago been abandoned. Dust and cobwebs covered everything. This was a drastic change since the last time she had visited the stables. Back then they where kept so immaculately clean you could have eaten off the floor. She walked up to the first stall in the long row of stalls, and taking a tissue from her coat pocket she wiped the dust and grime from a brass plate on the stall door. Apollo the plate read. A smile came upon her face as visions of this magnificent horse filled mind. Apollo was a large dapple grey tennessee walking horse stud, but not just any stud he was the horse with the highest stud fee in the breed. The Manner House was famous for their amazing tennessee walking horses, but Apollo was their pride and joy. He was a three time champion of The Big Lick which is the greatest honor any tennessee walking horse could ever achieve. Lisa remembered how Apollo would reach his neck out over his stall door and nuzzle her pockets searching for his carrots she always brought him. “He was a special horse,” she said to her self as she turned and walked lazily down the breezeway wrapped up in her memories.

When she came to the tack room she opened the door and used her phone as flashlight as she looked around. The saddles stood on their racks dry and cracking under the dust and cobwebs that covered them. The walls were lined with dust covered bridles and bits. In the center of the main wall there was a large framed picture that brought another smile to her face. It was a picture of Lisa in her early twenties riding Apollo for his last championship in The Big Lick. That had been one of the greatest days of her life. Turning to leave the room her light fell upon a stool in the corner that had a box farrier tacks sitting on it.

Rage instantly flooded over her as she took in the meaning of those tacks. She ran up and kicked the stool sending the tacks flying all over the room. Tears of rage streamed down Lisa’s face as she stormed out of the tack room remembering the last time she had ever visited the stables and this room. She had come home early from college that day to surprise her father. She was excited to come back home especially since it was time to attend the next Big Lick show, and Apollo was going for his fourth championship. Lisa just knew he was going win again. They made a great team. She was running up to the stables when she heard the sharp shrill cry of a horse in pain. Her run of joy turned into a rush of panic. When she entered the stables she saw Apollo hobbled and tied down with her father watching a groom drive farrier tacks into the coronet band of Apollo’s hooves. Apollo screamed with terror and pain with every blow of the hammer. Lisa had heard of this being done to other horses before. The process was called soring. The idea was to cause damage so that the horse would be in such pain that he would pick his front feet up as fast as he could when they hit ground and step that much higher in the competition to give him an edge over the other horses, but Lisa never imagined that her father would use such inhumane practices just to win a show. Lisa shrieked at the two men,"STOP! STOP!" “What do you think you are doing?” Lisa screamed at them. “Lisa honey we know what we are doing. You just don’t understand what it takes to win these big shows.” Her father said to her. “Just run along inside the house. You don’t need to see this. I will be a long shortly to discuss it with you.” Lisa rushed at the two men scratching and kicking at them trying to get to Apollo so she could set him free. Her father smacked her hard across her face. Lisa fell to the ground holding her cheek in her hand staring up at her father in stunned disbelief. He had never struck her before. Never. “Pull yourself together,” her father barked at her, “your acting unreasonable. Now get up to the house and stop this childish temper tantrum.” Lisa’s father glared at her as she rose to her feet and ran out of the stable tears streaming down her face. She did not run to the house. She ran to her car and sped out of the driveway never to return until this day.

Still fuming with rage Lisa stormed up to the house. Her rage out weighed her fear of what she was going to find inside. Lisa marched up to the front steps pulled a key out of her purse and unlocked the front door. She opened the the door and step into the foyer. The house was cold and eerily quite. Walking into the house her rage began to drain away as warm childhood memories began to take root in her mind. The hearth in the great room was cold now, but she could remember a time when it had been warm and welcoming. Looking over all the pictures on the wall of her father and herself made her remember just how much she had worshiped the man. Her mother had died when she was too young to remember her, so as long as she knew it had always been just her father and her. Lisa was now beginning to be over come with a feeling of guilt and sadness as she remembered why she had not even spoken to her father in twenty-four years.

When she left home for that last time Lisa drove straight to her apartment and called the authorities for the Tennessee Walking Horse Association and informed them of what she had just witnessed. When she hung up the phone she noticed the light on her answering machine blinking. There were three messages from her father apologizing, and asking her to please call him back. Lisa did not return his calls. The next time she saw her father was at the trial. Between Lisa’s testimony and the evidence secured by the association’s vet Lisa’s father was permanently banned from belonging to or participating in any Tennessee Walking Horse Association events ever again, and worst of all Apollo was stripped of his championship titles. Her father was ruined.

Lisa father tried to reach out to her several times through out the years, but Lisa never spoke to him again. He would send her letters, but she would throw them away unopened and unanswered. She knew she had done the right thing in her heart, but nevertheless it still made her feel sad and guilty.

Wandering through the the house battling with her feelings of guilt she eventually came to her fathers study. Lisa opened the door slowly and look around the oak paneled room. It looked just like she remembered it. She thought he hadn’t changed a single thing in over twenty-four years. She walked around the large sturdy wood desk that sat in the middle of the room, and sat down in the large comfortable leather chair that had belonged to her father. Looking over the neat clean desk top tears came to her eyes again as she saw the picture he had sitting in a frame on the corner of his desk. It was a picture of him and Lisa when she was seven years old. She couldn’t believe that after everything he had kept that picture up to remind him of her every day that he sat at this desk. Lisa placed her face down on her arms that were folded over the desk top and had her first good cry in years. She cried for her stubbornness, and she cried for all the lost years.

When she had finished letting her tears fall. She gathered herself together and opened the top desk drawer. Lying right there in the front of the drawer right on top was a envelope with Lisa’s name written in that all to familiar handwriting. She slowly removed the envelope placing it on the desk top and shut the desk drawer. Lisa sat there staring at the envelope for what seemed like hours. What would it say? Lisa was tempted to throw it out like she had done to so many others, but something felt different this time. She pulled the neatly folded sheets of paper from the envelope and began to read.

My dear Lisa,

If you are reading this letter it is because my disease has run its course. I want you to know that I never stopped loving you. I know you did what you thought was right, and I am proud of you for standing up for what you believe in. I know it could not have been easy for you. I am sorry that I put you in that situation. I put winning and money before my ethics, and it took you to make me see the error of my ways. Thank you for that.

Of all the things I lost the loss of my daughter was the only thing that mattered to me in the long run. I wish I could have spoken to you one last time. You were my world, and you will never know just how much I missed you.

The Manner House is yours now. I hope you fix her up and bring her back up to her former glory but the right way this time. I know you can do it. You are the only one who can. You loved those horses, and they loved you.

I am so sorry that I disappointed you. I hope you can find it in your heart to forgive me. At least I will get to see your mother again, and we will both be looking down on you from heaven.

Love,

Dad

Tears rolled off her cheeks creating splotches on the letter. She turned around in the desk chair to look up at the large portrait of her father that hung on the wall. His blue eyes seem to be looking right at her. With the tears still rolling down her face she said, “I love you too Daddy,” and that was all that mattered.