Aliens, Critters, and Dinosaurs

If Only

If Only

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New Prompt: Write a story containing a jump rope, a horse, and a waterfall. It can be any genre.


When I told my family that I’d taught my horse to jump rope, no one batted an eye.

“So what,” said my older brother.

“What else can it do?” my older sister said, wrinkling up her nose as if I’d just told her that I’d been kissing my horse. (My older sister is always thinking about kissing. She rolls her eyes whenever anyone mentions it, but every time I sneak a peak, she’s in her room kissing the mirror -- practicing, I guess.)

I told my mother and father about my palomino’s new trick, but neither of them were listening. Mom just said, “That’s nice. Be sure you wash your hands before you set the table, Cindy.” Dad just nodded and turned the page of the book he was reading. And it was looked boring with all those pictures of computers and all innards like Dad keeps leaving behind in our living room (which makes Mom really mad.)

I don’t know a single other horse that can jump rope like mine can. I think my Shamrock, is really, really smart for figuring out how to do it.

Shamrock likes to jump, too. His ears always perk up, and he neighs softly just before he does it, and not just for his carrot reward, either. I know he likes to jump rope, because on Sunday morning when I went out into the pasture, I found him practicing on some ivy vines. (His tail was holding one end of the rope and his teeth the other.)

That tells you Shamrock’s really special, doesn’t it?

But why doesn’t everyone think it’s a neat thing for a horse to do? ‘Cause nobody does.

At school, when I told my teacher, she shook her head and made the same noise with her tongue that she does whenever Carlos says, “The dog ate my homework.” I think Carlos’ might be lying, but I’m not.

I told my best friend, Gabriela, about Shamrock, but Gabriela’s mad at me this week just because my mother bought me a new raincoat -- one with little bears on it. Gabriela wouldn’t even listen to me when I tried to tell her about my horse jumping rope. She just walked away.

I wish my raincoat didn’t have little bears. I wish Mom hadn’t bought it for me. The other one was only a little tight. I could have worn it a while longer.

Leopoldo overheard me telling Gabriela about my horse. Then Leopoldo told everyone that my horse could jump rope. Now no one’s speaking to me, and Timmy says I’m crazy.

But Shamrock does jump rope. He can jump thirty-three times without stopping. I saw him do it on Sunday. I’m sure he’s going to be famous. Then everyone will see that I’m telling the truth, and Gabriela will talk to me again, the teacher won’t make those noises, and Timmy won’t make those circles in the air and say I’m crazy.

Maybe I should run away to the circus. I bet they’d love to see Shamrock jumping rope. They’d put his picture on the front of the circus tent. Then everyone would come from miles away just to see my horse jumping rope.

Even Gabriela might come. And the teacher, too. But Timmy would probably just say the circus was crazy. He wouldn’t believe even them.

Maybe I’ll take a picture of Shamrock jumping rope, but what if he’s shy? What if he won’t do it if anyone’s watching. Then no one would ever believe me. Especially not Gabriella. Or Leopoldo. Or my teacher. Or my father, mother, brother, or sister.

Maybe it’s not that great to have the world’s first palomino jump roping horse. Maybe I should teach my horse something else, like diving from the top of a waterfall or swimming across the English Channel? Maybe I could teach Shamrock to drive a car or ride a skateboard. Do you think anyone would believe me then?

If only I didn’t have bears on my new raincoat. I bet Gabriela would believe me. I wish I didn’t have bears on my raincoat. I wish I still had my old raincoat. Then everybody would come to see Shamrock jumping rope. And the teacher would smile at me and give me a big “A.” And Timmy -- well, maybe Timmy would still make circles with his hands, saying I was crazy, but everyone else would see that I really do have a horse that can jump rope, And then Gabriela and I would giggle with our heads together, and she’d be my best friend again. If only I didn’t have a new raincoat. If only it didn’t have bears on it.


780 words