Yesterday

YESTERDAY

I woke up this morning feeling calm, relaxed, at peace with the world. There wasn’t a thought in my head except for rolling out of bed and getting in the shower. I was perfectly satisfied with my life. Then the memory of yesterday came crashing over me with the force of a tidal wave, and just getting up took all the willpower I had. I would have given everything I owned just to be able to roll over and go back to sleep, but I couldn’t.
I was in the shower for about half an hour, just working up the courage to get out. I was warm in there and I didn’t have to do anything. Just sitting there with water running down my back, I was like a lizard lying in the sun. Eventually I managed to get out and go into the kitchen. I made bacon and eggs; but I couldn’t bring myself to eat them. I thought if I put food in my body I would probably just throw it back up again. I threw it in the bin and went outside.
I meandered through the paddock in front of my house, trying not to think about what was to come. Holding on to that blissful ignorance I felt when I woke up this morning was like trying to keep water in my cupped hands; no matter how hard I tried, it just kept slipping away.
I got to the point where my property meets the highway, and I saw Air, lying on her side next to the road. From this angle, Air looked calm, harmonious with the sun and the sky and the grass. It was only when I moved that I could see the blood spreading all over her beautiful white mane. This bloodstain on her white body was eerie to look at; like red wine spilt on snow, and her legs lay in front of her like mangled branches. I thought back to last night, and my legs gave in beneath me. I collapsed on the ground in a pool of tears.
I can still remember when I first met Air, like it was yesterday. A farmer in our shire had passed away, and his children had put all of his worldly possessions up for sale. They were selling everything, from cattle and sheep to his wireless radio, and the auction went on for hours. The last thing on the auction block was a little 3 month old foal. A foal that age should weigh 100kg at least, but Air was less than 90kg. When the auctioneer started the bidding I was the only person to raise their hand. I didn’t care that I’d just spent all my savings. I didn’t care that the foal was probably going to be scrawny and weak for the rest of its life. I was in love with the foal from the moment I saw her. I named her Air because if she was any lighter, she’d just float away.
In the coming years, I spent most of my time working on the farm, with Air. We became a seamless unit; she seemed to respond to my thoughts rather than my commands. By the time she was fully grown, I didn’t have any friend in the world that could measure up to her. Nothing changed when I entered adulthood. I don’t have children, and I never married, but all I need is Air. She had been my companion for almost 30 years, which longer than any normal horse would even stay alive. I’ve spent more time with her in my life than I have without her.
While I was having dinner last night I heard the rumble of a motor coming from up the highway. Stupid kids often drive like that up the highway, and I’ve grown used to hearing the occasional hoon screaming past. What I’m not used to is hearing the sounds of screeching tyres, a crash, a scream, and then a teenage boy shouting.
“Let’s get out of here! Drive!”
I felt something was wrong almost at once. I got up out of my chair and ran out to the road. There was Air, lying on the ground near the highway, moaning in agony.
I knew even before I saw the tyre tracks what had happened. The stupid kids had been driving like maniacs again, but instead of running off the road and hitting a tree, they had run into Air. I knew she liked to go near the road, watching the cars fly past like little comets; Air had never been afraid of humans. But this time, she had gone too close, been too curious, and payed the price for it. Any normal person would have seen her there on the road; they would have stopped in time, or pulled away. It was these stupid kids that were the reason she had been hit. Driving too fast, probably drunk, they had not care in the world for anyone but themselves. Just the thought of their carefree nature angered me; how could the not have just thought about the mistakes they were bound to make!
I looked down at Air. Her body was tainted and twisted, almost to the point that she was unrecognisable. Her legs were facing off at odd angles, like wire bent out of shape, and there was an ugly gash down her side. Her head was covered in blood, the redness engulfing most of her face. Only her eyes were left uncovered. Her mouth was open, revealing several broken teeth, and she was crying out in pain. I realised what had to be done.
I was crying as I walked to my shed, each step seeming to take some tremendous effort. My hand shook as I placed the key into the lock of my gun cabinet. I prised the door open like the lid of a coffin. I slowly picked up the rifle. It felt much smaller and lighter than it should have; for some reason I held it as though it was made of glass. I began to reconsider what I was about to do. There was a chance that Air could still survive. Most of the damage was to the legs and they could be fixed, couldn’t they? Surely I shouldn’t give up on Air until there’s no other option? There is still hope. Isn’t there? Just a little hope? But then I remembered her dying body, and I heard her moans of agony again as if she was right next to me. There had only been one option, ever since Air was hit by that car. I shut the door of the cabinet, and clicked the lock shut. The sound of the lock sounded so much like the bolt on a rifle, it made me shudder. As I walked outside, I held the key in my hand. I took one final look at it and threw it away into the bushes, where I would never find it again. Now there was no turning back.
When I got back to Air, she was shuddering. Her eyes were opening and closing like camera shutters, and there was a pool of blood covering the grass on which she lay. Suddenly the rifle seemed heavy, weighing me down like lead. I looked at my hands and thought to myself
“Do it.”
My hand shook almost too much to find the bolt, but I found it and slid it into the place. Air made a coughing sound and blood splashed from her mouth to the grass beneath her. I flicked off the safety. Air’s leg gave a shudder and a twitch. I raised the gun to my eye level, and looked down at her. Air looked up and me, and in those large, black eyes, I saw myself, reflected in the moonlight. My hand dropped to the ground again, and her eye closed. I knelt beside her and whispered.
“You’ll stop hurting soon. It will all stop hurting soon”
Her eye fluttered open and closed, like a butterfly’s wing. I stood up, raised the rifle, and my hand steadied.
“Goodbye”
The crash of the gunshot reverberated around the empty land; seeming to hang in the air for a lifetime. I stood for a second, the rifle lying limp in my hand, and then I dropped to the ground beside her body, and crumpled under the weight of the guilt and the shame and the sorrow. I’m not sure how long I laid there; all I know is that at some point, looking at her body, soaked in blood and morning dew, just became too much for me to bear. I walked inside and fell onto my bed, fully clothed. I wept until weeping took too much effort, and then I fell into a deep sleep.
And now, as I sit here in front of Air, not moving or breathing; never moving again, I would give anything for it to be yesterday. Yesterday I had no troubles, no guilts, shames, and defeats. Yesterday I had a companion. Now that she’s gone, it’s like a chunk of my soul has been carved out of my chest, and I had to carve it myself. I would give every other day of my life, from here to my death, just to have her for another day. I want to go to yesterday again, but that can’t happen. It doesn’t work that way.