My Pegasus
PHIL AND DAVID and I crept along the yard fence on our bellies and elbows, like soldiers on a battlefield. In the lead, my older brother, Phil, gave a hand signal for us to lay low while he proceeded.
Within minutes, David and I were scrambling up on the golden palomino mare as Phil untied her from the fence. Our older sister, Pat, came blasting out the screen door into the front yard.
“You little brats!” she screamed. “She’smy horse.”
“Just’cause you’re the oldest doesn’t mean she’s yours,” Phil yelled as he jumped on Maybelle and kicked to get us going.
Maybelle trotted toward the back pasture of our farm with the three of us bouncing bareback and clinging to one another. Sis pursued us on foot. As we passed the barn, I turned and could barely see her, a speck near the creek. After a few minutes I heard the screen door
