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Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/1845703-The-Horse-Training-President
Rated: E · Short Story · Career · #1845703
What would happen if you had to choose your career in fifth grade?
In 2023 a new legislation was passed requiring children to decide on a career between the ages of ten and fifteen. The law was created in response to the rapid decline of qualified workers as the unstable economy forced more and more high school graduates to abandon hopes of college or other training programs. Once a child declared their career they would enter into a training program lasting an average of ten years before entering into the workforce. Changing programs was not permitted.

The Horse Training President


My twelve year old son stood before me with stars in his eyes. His overwhelming joy and beaming smile caused my anxiety to grow. Knowing my energetic and wild child, his decision would haunt my dreams for years to come. Perhaps it would haunt his too. Why do they have to ask at such a young age? They don’t understand the mind of a child, lost in dreams of grandeur and adventures beyond the stars. My poor son, what fate have you bestowed unto yourself? Charlie bounced around the kitchen, attempting to find the treat he knew I had hidden in celebration of the big day.

With a sigh I leaned back in the wicker chair guarding the doorway to the dinning room. We had agreed, before he went to school this morning, that he would not tell me what he chose until he had located his present. I had offered to wrap the present and leave it on the counter for him, but he insisted that I must hide it and wait while he used his “famous” detective skills to find the “intrusive object.” I originally set it behind a stack of plates in the cupboard next to the fridge. Knowing he would be disappointed if he found it too quickly, I moved it to the towel drawer under the sink. Those were the first two places he had looked. Watching him scour the kitchen in vain for ten minutes, I began to wonder if I had hidden it too well.

Just as my patience was being overridden by my anxiety, Charlie looked at me, grinned, and said, “Mom, I give you credit for trying, but you should use your imagination when hiding something that large.”

I blinked and stared at him. “What do you mean? You haven’t found it yet.” Sometimes I truly believed he enjoyed toying with me.

Slowly shaking his head he dragged a bar stool over to the microwave and proceeded to crawl onto the counter. Reaching toward the top lip of the cupboard above the appliance, he pulled down a plain brown box the size of a large text book. “Mom, the first place anyone would look would be the open surfaces on the perimeter of the target area.”

“Oh, really? Then how come it took you ten minutes to find it?”

“I didn’t want you to feel as if I found it too quickly. Besides, I had to build up the anticipation before I announced what happened at school today. Where would the fun be in just pointing out the box and saying without making you wait?”

Brat. I suppose I shouldn’t be too surprised, he gets it from he father. “Well, are you going to tell me or wait until after dinner to open your present?” I felt a little better as uncertainty crept into his mirth. I wouldn’t actually make him wait, I just wanted to remind him who the parent was. I relaxed a little as Charlie began to drag the stool back to the island in the middle of the kitchen where it belonged.

The letter had come two weeks ago. An announcement from Shear Hights Elementary School concerning the fifth grade class's Career Day. I still remember the dread that crept over me when I read the chosen day. The fifteenth, the same day my husband would be returning from another tour in Iraq. I feared Charlie would be influenced by his father's return and would choose to become a soldier also. I knew he would never decide to be a horse trainer, the position I had held before getting pregnant, and the percentage of children who choose to follow in one of their parent's footsteps was very high. That left becoming a soldier. Once again I found myself cursing the legislation that demanded fifth graders decide on an official career path, one they would be forced to follow even if they changed their mind later. I couldn't stand the thought of losing my entire family to war.

Having finally settled himself on a stool across from me, Charlie's grin returned. Whatever his future, he was excited about it. "Mom, did you know that six kids in my class are going to war when they graduate high school? And one of them is a girl!"

My heart skipped a beat, "Really? Are you one of them?"

"Nope!" His excitement continued to grow as he bounced on the stool. "George is going to be a cowboy and Alissa wanted to be a cowgirl. There's a bet going that they get married." He laughed at the silliness of his two best friends.

My anxiety was being to peak again, he was doing this on purpose. "Well, I suppose that is possible. George's father owns a ranch, correct?"

"Yup! But Alissa's family doesn't, so she has no clue how they are going to make her into a cowgirl. She thinks she'll get a horse for her birthday next month though. I hope she does! Then we could go hang at her house and go for rides."

The thought of my rough and tumble son riding a horse, an animal he had proclaimed a fear of three years ago, struck me as amusing. "I thought you were afraid of them."

"Mom! That was so third grade. Everyone was afraid of horses then. It was just a fad. You do remember what those are, don't you?"

Since when were fears fads? Maybe I was getting old, but my son was not someone I wanted reminding me about it. "Alright," I said with a touch of impatience, "what did you choose?"

He waved a finger at me, "Patience Mom, I'm getting there."

I swear he was getting more like his father by the day. Charlie was going to make me wait until after he had shared the fates of all his twenty-one classmates before telling me his.

"Michele, Anna, and Jeremy are going to be explores. Anna particularly wants to go adventuring in the North Pole. I don't know about the other two though. Those triplets, the ones with the goofy eyes, want to be rock stars. Which is ok, they can actually sing, so they might even get famous some day. Two others, I don't remember their names, want to be clowns for the circus. I hope they get really good so we can go see them someday. Someone else chose to be a news reporter, and another wants to invent candy. I think that would be a fun job, trying different kinds of candy all day. The guy with the mohawk is going to play guitar in a death metal band. The girl with the braces wants to be a dentist. I don't know why anyone would want to stick their hands in people's mouths all day, but she does. And the girl who transferred from Alaska a couple of months ago wants to be a treasure hunter. She claims to already have a map of some dead pirate's gold back in Alaska. I think she's lying though."

His classmates decisions did not surprise me. Since the law had been put in place there had been a dramatic increase in rock stars, treasure hunters, and circus performers. Not surprisingly, there are very few lawyers and accountants, and fast food had all but become extinct. "So, what did you choose?" I asked for what felt like the tenth time.

He smiled at me with a sly grin, "I am going to be President of the United States!"

My jaw dropped. Against all odds, there had been very few children who wanted that position, and those who did ended up with a spot on in the House of Representatives or Senate instead. "That's great honey, but why?"

"So I can get rid of the law preventing someone from changing their career later. Once I get rid of that, I'm going to quit my job and move in with George and Alissa and raise horses just like you."

I just starred at him. Change the law and then quit? I began to laugh, only my son would be that daring. "I'm sure you'll do great Charlie, and I know your father will be proud of you."

"You think so? He always said he wished he could stay at home and just be a father. When I change the law he will be able to stay here all the time with you. It'll be great!"

I walked over and planted a kiss on my son's forehead. He promptly wiped it off with a grunt of protest. "Go wash your hands for supper, father should be here soon."

I watched as he sped off toward the bathroom. A smile finally finding its way to my lips.
© Copyright 2012 Crazy Writer (crazy4matt at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
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