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    OGINALII, is Cherokee for My Friend Like Horse is to My Heart
    OGINALII, is Cherokee for My Friend Like Horse is to My Heart
    OGINALII, is Cherokee for My Friend Like Horse is to My Heart
    Ebook61 pages1 hour

    OGINALII, is Cherokee for My Friend Like Horse is to My Heart

    By Stephanie M Sellers

    ()

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    About this ebook

    OGINALII is a Young Adult Short Story that pulls in the heart as you leave the asphalt for dusty rural roads and smelly farm land.
    Exilee Sheffield is a tomboy who recently lost her mother and deals with loneliness and grieving in a most unique manner.
    Anyone want to watch a pony-show with a cat on the back and a three-legged buffalo led by a hyper terrier?
    Exilee doesn't. She wants to do it! And she will. Exilee wants to do anything except learn piano and as Auntie Bell says, "Learn some manners."
    Until Exilee learns Auntie Bell just might be her new best friend, if she'll let her.

    LanguageEnglish
    PublisherStephanie M Sellers
    Release dateAug 7, 2011
    ISBN9781465729323
    OGINALII, is Cherokee for My Friend Like Horse is to My Heart
    Author

    Stephanie M Sellers

    I remember ponies calling me over to feed them handfuls of grass from the time I was four. Growing up, ponies and horses dumped me on manure piles then ran to their barns. I’ve tackled their heads to get bits in, only to be scraped off. A pony picked me up once between my shoulder blades in its defiance of being led from the pasture. Its friends the cows chased me. Most of the time I ended up having a great ride getting my teeth jarred loose. A product of the late sixties, my childhood gave me the freedom to ride a bicycle to school. I tied string to the handlebars as reins and named it Lightening. It was my first horse. I rode every mutt pony, horse no one else would, any neglected nag in the back field and made friends with any girl who had two. When I was in my late twenties, after some college, including Language Arts, then the USAF, marriage and babies, I managed to conquer my dream and became a horse owner. One of them died two years ago. Sugarbabe was a Tennessee Walking Horse. She won first place in confirmation in North Carolina. She won my heart the first time I yelled, “Do you want a bath?” And she answered. Sugarbabe blew, tossed her long neck and ran to the barn. Her sister, Class, is still with me. She is twenty. I am forty-nine. Both of us, at heart, are only thirteen when we are out on the trail.

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      Book preview

      OGINALII, is Cherokee for My Friend Like Horse is to My Heart - Stephanie M Sellers

      Oginalii is Cherokee for My Friend Like Horse is to My Heart

      Stephanie M Sellers

      *****

      Copyright 2010 by Stephanie M Sellers

      *****

      Smashwords Edition, License Notes

      This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to Smashwords. com and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

      *****

      Young Adult Short Story

      Oginalii is a Young Adult Short Story that pulls in the heart as you leave the asphalt for dusty rural roads and smelly farm land. Exilee Sheffield is a tomboy who recently lost her mother and deals with loneliness and grieving in a most unique manner. Anyone want to watch a pony-show with a cat on the back and a three-legged buffalo led by a hyper terrier? Exilee doesn't. She wants to do it! And she will. Exilee wants to do anything except learn piano and as Auntie Bell says, Learn some manners. Until Exilee learns Auntie Bell just might be her new best friend, if she'll let her.

      OGINALII is Cherokee for My Friend Like Horse is to My Heart

      Stephanie M Sellers

      You think she’s watching us? Exilee whispers real soft-like to Yellow Cat as they sit down on the piano bench under her momma’s picture. Yellow Cat bumps her purring head to the young girl’s chin then leaps from her lap to the height of the piano.

      Exilee sighs. I don’t feel her anymore, she whispers. Like when she used to catch me with extra pie or that time with the green snake in the jar. I’ve even jumped off the shed a couple of times just to see if I could feel worried about getting caught. And I don’t.

      They sit studying her momma’s picture. Exilee eases the bologna slice from the coffee cup’s saucer and ruffles the edges with tiny bites as Yellow Cat listens to her teeth tattle. Yellow Cat’s ears rear back and the very end of her tail flicks, once, in wait of her invitation to share the bologna slice.

      Don’t give up, Exilee. There will be a sign. Yellow Cat turns around to face her, reclines and halfway closes her enchanting eyes. Love never leaves you, Exilee. I really believe that.

      Wow. Exilee’s brown eyes liquefy as she returns the slice to the plate. I want to believe that, more than anything. She loosens a thick strand of her long black curly hair from its braid and twists it, like her momma used to do and sits spellbound by her momma’s reflection.

      The picture hangs over the piano as a gorgeous reflection of an awful war in the early eighteenth century. Only red and black blood can make that kind of pretty. That’s how her White daddy explains things. But her momma’s reflection really goes back much further, according to what her momma told her in secret on her last day.

      Exilee Sheffield is her momma’s mirror image, other than her momma’s Lumbee Indian gray eyes. Exilee has a nose wider than her European relatives, tall cheekbones jutting out like cliffs above her full lips, and is auspiciously aware of the world around her. The only difference is that Exilee doesn’t feel their people’s music in the same way her momma, Star Locklear-Sheffield, did.

      Auntie Bell steals a quick peek at Exilee. The youngster sits on the piano bench directly under her momma’s picture and dangles her spicy bologna slice above the keys just out of reach from Yellow Cat. Auntie Bell rolls her eyes and leans back into the kitchen as Exilee teases the cat with the bologna slice to walk across the piano keys, like Yellow Cat likes to do, so softly the pings pung as her paws pass over its black and white path. The bologna slice slimes across the keys as Exilee reclines onto the piano bench and longingly gazes up at her momma’s solemn smile, sure she’d be pleased with her attention near the piano however undisciplined. Exilee closes her eyes and inhales, hoping for a sniff of her momma’s scent near the old piano, but smells nothing but dust, old drab dust, stringent new and the musky outdoor dust brought in from coming and going.

      Auntie Bell edges past the door jamb as she yaks on the phone. Her hips sashay right at eye level with Exilee forcing her big dark eyes to take in her bright tight pink skirt. Exilee can’t help but notice. Auntie Bell’s petite figure is full at fifty-five and muscular from farm chores but her backside’s bus is way past the

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