Disclaimer: The Black isn't mine.
A/N: The copper araibian– what horse? Oh okay…in the trailer…umm…there never was another horse in the trailer with Spirit. It was just a one-room trailer remember? One horse, one human, and their stuff. If you're talking about the horse Spirit saw or the whinny Spirit heard when he was under chloroform(a kind of anesthetic used back in the '30's; used by the two robbers because they wanted something quick and easy to put Spirit to sleep, and didn't know how to use injections) yeah, that was Moon, but the last he saw of her was when she was back in the stable, and the whinny he heard before he blacked out.
About the black paint–Good point. Thanks for bringing that up. Wow, I never even noticed it wasn't there. I've added a bit to Chapter 16 so other people won't have to wonder how Spirit went from black to gold again without so much as a mention of getting the paint washed off. It's near the last, right after the part where it says "…woods and plains and woods and plains again. How many deep streams I forded, how many rivers I swam, I never bothered to count." Etc. Thanx !
If you guys find any more mistakes, please tell me so I can correct them. Thanx, and thanx again!
Chapter 18
It had taken me almost four months (July–mid-October) –okay just over three months–to get from my human home to my real home.
But that had included a nice big bit of aimless wandering, not knowing where to go.
Now that I knew my way around, it would save a lot of time.
The downside was, I'd traveled in a van for a month, half the time it took to get home.
And vans can go all day at maximum speed.
Horses can't.
If I hoped to come back west before winter ended, which was about three, four months from now, it would take a lot–almost a miracle if I were to make it.
Oh well.
It was dark when I started out. Two days of steady galloping alternating with trotting when I got tired and I was past the place where I met Northlight's friend.
For the next two full moons, I retraced the way I'd taken back East, walking, running, trotting, anything–just always moving.
I found the road and began following it.
But it would take me forever to reach home by foot. So I looked for another way out.
Two days later, I found it.
It was night. I'd been standing hidden in a grove of trees far enough from the road so that nobody would see me, but near enough so that I would hear what the humans were saying.
A huge truck came trundling down the road, turned out to the grass, and stopped.
The wind came, wafting along a smell of horses.
Humans got out of the truck, went around to the other side of the cab, and began examining something. I sneaked out of the trees and right alongside the trailer.
It was an open-air trailer; all that was between me and the horses were bars of steel. The top of the thing was covered with a kind of cloth to keep out the rain. Or in this weather, snow
On closer look, the horses weren't horses at all, but ponies. Small, clean-limbed ponies with ragged manes and tails.
"Ponies!" I said in a hoarse whisper.
Their ears perked up and they came around this side. Thirteen pairs of shining eyes met mine, thirteen intelligent heads bobbed, thirteen soft noses snuffled my face. They swept their noses over me and bobbed their heads some more.
"Ahh," they said in unison. "A wild one."
One of them, a gray mare, stepped forward.
"Do not try to make us escape, like the last herd of wild ones did, wild one. Their stallion told us to beware, that we were going to a terrible place, where we would be controlled by hard metal sticks, hit with strips of leather, and be kicked by young human children. He told us we'd better escape now. We know all that, and we do not fear. We also know that not all humans treat us that way. We know of sunny places where we are free to run, of red apples, of delicious white cubes. We know the joy of gentle hands stroking our coats and of being loved and cared for."
"Yes," I whispered back. "I know of sugar cubes too!"
Now they were really interested. A slow, steady hum of voices murmured. "How do you know that, young wild one?"
Something clunked. Fourteen heads swung in the direction of the humans.
"Let me inside and I can tell you my story."
The ponies glanced at one another.
I felt my stomach sinking as the gray mare shook her head. "We can't. The doors are locked. You must wait. They let us out by day. We do not run off and the humans leave us here while they take care of themselves. Wait until that time. Then mingle with us. The humans don't notice. One of us has slipped off and back, just to test the humans' reactions. They will not know. Then, you can come with us in here."
"Where are you headed?"
They murmured some more. A chestnut gelding lifted his head and stared me straight in the eye. "East. Someplace called Washington."
A chorus of voices agreed with his.
"Do you know if that is near Kentucky?"
"Yesss…yesss…"They nodded.
The chestnut gelding threw back his head. "Washington is just north of Kentucky. If that is where you are going, do not fear. You can always hear the humans talking. They mention the places we have passed, and the places we are going. They stop every day. You can get off anytime you want to."
"Thank you. Thank you!"
Shadows were walking back toward the truck.
"Go!" The gray mare pushed her nose out from the bars. "The truck will run. Just follow the road ahead. You must get ahead of us, or we will overtake you. Just follow the road and don't stop, or you'll get left behind."
The truck was revving up. The gelding stuck his nose out beside her. He had to yell to be heard above the noise. "Hurry!"
He said something else. I didn't stop to listen. My hooves thudded as I raced back to the grass and began to gallop.
Yeah, that made sense. Those ponies were wise. Get ahead, then wait for them, instead of waiting first, then running after them.
I kept away from the road, but followed it, going east.
Finally, when I'd run my fastest for a good bit and tired, I slowed. It was still dark, but the sky was getting that gray-tinged look that practically screamed that dawn was approaching.
It is dangerous to be seen by daylight.
When the next car came whizzing up, I dove into the trees.
Whew. Then I discovered a problem.
As long as there were trees, I had someplace to run into.
But now the trees ended. Wide, open plain began.
And as a golden horse on a dusty, rusty background, I stood out like a black dot on a white page.
There was a way. I ran to the edge of the trees and began pawing frantically. Then, with the grass gone and a big, wide grassless circle before me, I lay down and began to roll.
When I rose up at last, I was unrecognizable. My coat was covered with dust, and every time I set down a hoof, small clouds of dust rose.
I snorted, almost sneezed.
Then, the truck rumbled past.
Oh no.
I didn't get dirty just for nothing. The truck was ahead. I shot out of the trees and began running after it.
Midday. The truck drove off the road and stopped. As the ponies had said, the human made a wide round enclosure with rope and pieces of wood, opened the doors and let the ponies out.
Then, they went up front.
I showed myself as soon as the humans were gone.
The chestnut gelding saw me first.
"Come," he whinnied softly.
I went. The ponies bunched together making an open area for me as I hopped in.
At last, I could meet them. I snuffled their noses and got snuffles in return. And close up, they didn't look that small. I just stood a head taller than the biggest of them.
The gray mare appeared, the chestnut gelding by her side.
"Welcome," she said softly. "I am Snow White. This is," she gave the gelding a half-glaring half-amused look–" my close friend and stable-mate, Coconut."
The gelding snorted. "I don't like my name." He glared back at the mare, then grinned, bumped her with his head and moved away, weaving his through the mass of bodies grazing around.
Even though they continued to glare at each other across the enclosure, I could tell they were very fond of each other.
"We grew up together in the same field," Snow White whickered. "Now tell me your story."
"I'll wait until we're inside the van. Are you sure the humans won't notice me here?"
She shook her head. "Coconut sneaked out of the enclosure once. He cantered in a wide circle and the humans didn't even see."
"Why are you going to Washington?"
"We were bought from an auction. No one knew anybody at first. Coconut and I came as a pair. We're going to a stable north to be trained. For a riding school they say."
"Why don't you want to escape?"
Snow White shook her head again. "It is difficult out in the wild. Scarce food, cold winters, driving winds, predators…" she shuddered.
"The wild is beautiful. Green grass…wild flowers…rivers that go on for miles…"
"All that in exchange for being afraid every moment because cougars are nearby? Never mind."
"But out there, you'll have a stallion to protect you. And there is no one to control you, no one to make you do things you don't want to do…"
" I sti–"
We were interrupted by the humans coming out.
Coconut appeared. "Try to do your best imitation of a mouse." He grinned. "Then maybe they won't notice you. What have you been talking about?"
Snow White nipped him. "You."
His eyes widened in mock surprise. "Really?"
"Yeah."
He leaned close to me. "What did she tell you?"
"I told him you were my very close and very annoying friend and stablemate. I told him we grew up together."
She added in an undertone. "I also told him you have a corny sense of humor."
Coconut jumped. "What?!"
All this time, we were being herded inside. I listened tensely. If the humans noticed, I was going to have to make a break for it, instead of being caught.
One of the humans did notice. He pointed at me and said, "Hey, where did this one come from? I thought they were only supposed to be thirteen–"
The other human cut him off. "Ah, shut up you oaf. And how many was they yesterday? Sixteen?" He laughed. "This 'un's always bee' there. Ya just 'aven't seen 'im, big 'as 'e 'is…" They laughed some more.
He tapped the ropes. "Now git on you…go on…get inside"
I breathed a sigh of relief and scurried inside quickly.
The trailer was roomy. We could move around freely. Once inside, Snow White turned and raised her voice.
"Brothers and sisters, we have a newcomer."
"We've noticed," a dozen voices murmured. Chuckles broke out. One of the other raised his voice. "Specially since he's big, golden, looks every inch a Thoroughbred, not like a pony, and sticks out like a sore thumb."
More chuckles. I laughed along.
She turned to me. "Don't mind him. He has a brain but mostly doesn't use it to think about what he says before he actually says it."
They laughed. I laughed.
"So, wild one. Who are you and what are you doing here?"
"My name is Spirit."
"Spirit," thirteen voices said in unison.
"I'm–well you've guessed it–a thoroughbred. But not a pure bred. My father was a wild one."
"Ahh…Yess…"
"I was very young when I was caught by humans. I escaped."
They sighed as one.
The horse who'd raised his voice added, "So now you're going back again to show the humans how much you disliked them."
Wow. He was fast. I didn't have to tell him how much I hated it there; he'd figured it out by himself. He used his head after all.
"No…not really…"
The outspoken horse pushed to the front. He was a bright bay, very tall, his head almost to mine.
His eyes moved over me.
"You've been traveling a long time. You are three years old…almost four, yes?" He lowered his voice so only Snow White, Coconut, and I could hear. "And you have been abused."
Now I was shocked. "How did you know that?"
"Your scar." He pushed away my mane with his nose and showed the gray mare and the chestnut gelding the scar on my neck.
"I was bitten," I said hurriedly, and pulled away. These ponies had good impressions of humans; I didn't want to destroy that.
The bay horse's eyes were boring into my face. I was sure he could see right through me, could read my mind. I couldn't meet his steady gaze.
"No," he said softly. "You lie."
I felt the tips of my ears flare. "No…I mean–that is–"
"I know. That was made by a whip. A length long, and a bit less than a human finger in thickness. Sharp-tipped end. Leather."
He chanted it like he'd memorized it from a tack-shop catalog.
I stared. "How did you know?"
The tall bay horse moved even closer. " I know. Because I have one too."
He half turned and showed me his flank. And there, on the bright bay skin, was a scar, shaped like mine, but cut bigger. Deeper.
"Humans?"
He nodded. "Of course. And that's why I keep telling these ponies to run loose while they still can." He cast a pointed look at Snow White and Coconut. "That wild stallion is right. Now you have evidence of what humans can do. We are living proof, both of us." His eyes were now boring into Snow White and Coconut.
"Why don't you run away?" I asked, curious.
"I'm old. I don't look it But I am. And if I were to get free, I want to enjoy my freedom, not die off just a few days after I got loose."
"Are you a wild one?"
He shot me a look. "Of course not. But I know what it is like. My owner, before he sold me to the one who abused me, used to let me run wild for weeks at a time, when he wasn't riding me."
"Why don't you and I escape together?"
"No."
"Why?"
"I have reasons of my own." He was suddenly distant and cool as he moved away.
I never dared ask him about it again.
The next few weeks were spent living in the trailer with the ponies. But instead of hanging around Snow White and Coconut, I found myself strangely drawn to the Jack, the tall bay horse.
Somehow, even though the other ponies were friendly, we didn't have much to talk about. And anyway, whenever I said something, they just kept on agreeing like they'd rehearsed it, or like they weren't really listening, bobbing their heads until you thought they would fall off their necks.
Jack was different. A lot different.
Maybe it was because he too had known the hurts of being in human hands. Maybe it was because he was abused, like me, and had a scar to show it too. Or maybe it was because he had this sharpness, this shrewdness, this ability to look at a horse and know his strengths and weaknesses almost at once, as he'd done with me. Or maybe it was because Jack didn't agree all the time, like the other ponies; he was opinionated, stating his stands on almost everything.
I don't know. But whatever it was, I was soon standing beside him, talking away, not telling him anything about my life, but sharing opinions, what I thought about this and that, and hearing his own opinions by turn.
He began to teach me some of his wisdom, some of his tricks.
"There's always a reason for everything," he would say. "So, when I look at your scar, I think, 'What must have caused it?' Then I would look at it, and because it doesn't look like a horse's teeth did it, I would assume that humans did it. Add that clue to the fact that you become instinctively tense whenever the word 'whip' is mentioned, and bingo."
I learned a lot more. It turned out that he knew a lot about the world, having traveled so much and met many horses. That was the reason he didn't have any close friends; when it was time to go, he didn't want to become emotionally attached. We grazed side by side when the humans let us out, we talked by day and dozed by night.
The truck moved very fast, faster than the van I'd been put on after being stolen. And this truck drove day and night, with the humans taking turns, not like Boss and Yo, who had to wait until dark to make their moves.
So, I calculated, I was moving approximately twice as fast, which would of course cut the time used in half.
That was good. It meant more time for the journey back home. Since, on the way back west, I could no longer hope to find passage for two Thoroughbreds, more time would fit our schedule just fine.
I was right. About two weeks later, while Jack and I were standing with our ears pressed against the steel wall where we could sometimes hear the humans speaking, I caught the word "Kentucky".
We'd taken to doing that lately, after I'd suggested we started listening for signs that we were far east.
"That's it," I told Jack excitedly. He bobbed his bay head. "I heard too."
"So what do you think? Should I stay on further until we get near the place where I get off, or should I go now?"
He shrugged. "If it were me, I'd suggest going now, because if you wait, you could overshoot and not find your way back to your farm. Assuming it was a farm," he added, eying me beadily.
I sighed. "Okay, I didn't tell you everything. It was a racing stable."
He chuckled. "I'd thought so. You are built like a racer. You were born to run."
"How do you know?"
"My grand-dam was a racer too. And when I was young, I was pretty fast myself, though not as fast as racers are, of course."
"Oh. Okay…"
We planned my escape carefully. Jack gathered the whole truckload of ponies around us and told us his plan. It was simple but brilliant, just like Jack; during their morning out, they would cause a diversion while I got away.
"We will help you, but do not persuade us to go with you, because we will not. We are bound by the–" Snow White began.
"Yes I know," I interrupted politely, cutting short what would have been a long lecture on human kindness again.
Afterwards, Jack and I talked again. We talked until it was nearly time for me to go. "Can you tell me why you're going east?" he asked me. I opened my mouth. 'Aside from going back to annoy the humans," he added quickly.
The humans came running back here. The gate scraped open and we scrambled off the truck one by one and into the rope-and-sticks paddock.
"Ummm…I–I…" How could I say this without sounding stupid?
He wasn't listening. He was watching the humans walk farther and farther away.
"Okay. Good, we don't need a diversion after all." He raised his voice. "Plan cancelled!"
"What?! But I thought–"
"Go now. Before they notice. We'll cover up for you when they come back."
"Now?!"
"Yes, now!"
The ponies formed a half-circle and pressed closer to me.
"But I thought we'd wait a few more days–"
They were coming closer still, Jack at their head.
"No! We'll be passing through human farms by tomorrow! You'll be seen."
"I ha–"
"Now!" Jack looked dangerous. The ponies' noses were almost touching my coat.
What choice did I have? I hopped out of the enclosure and began cantering away.
"Take care now, you hear?" Snow White.
"Good luck!" Coconut.
Then, to my amazement, Jack hopped out too. I stopped for him.
"You've changed you mind and decided to come with me?" I asked hopefully. We weren't really that close yet…but I already thought of him as a friend.
"No. I just remembered something. This truck will be going along this exact road in a month, bringing back the remaining ponies who weren't sold. We'll be following the same old road west. There'll be room for two more horses." He grinned at me.
"Wha–why are you telling me–"
"Bye, kiddo!"
He touched my nose, then spun around and began trotting back to the ponies.
I shook my head, amazed, confused, and started for the nearest trees.
Hours later as I trotted and cantered along, not daring to go faster for fear of slipping, I was still wondering how Jack had known.
He was only teasing when he said I was going back to annoy the humans.
Of course…Jack was smart…a lot smarter than Snow White or Coconut gave him credit for…
He'd known. I was sure of that. He'd known what I was going to do.
He'd figured out what I'd planned to do, and he'd told me the truck was coming back, because he knew we were also going back west…
But as the day wore on and the cold intensified, I turned my thoughts away from him and focused on not slipping.
The countryside was changing. Mountains were now a distant memory; trees were few and becoming fewer, and it was back to grass, grass, and more grass.
Good thing horses don't get tired of grass.
I reached my first human settlement by sunset.
It was a tiny farm, with just an acre of fenced grass, and two shaggy ponies standing heads-to-tails, huddled, looking as if they were glued together.
I didn't stop to say hello.
The farms grew bigger, and there were more horses and humans the farther I went on.
I took to staying in trees, watching, then making a break for the next shelter when humans weren't watching.
And don't bother to count the stares I got from the horses and ponies when I would hop the fence, dash across their field, and disappear around the other end.
Humans saw me once. I was halfway across a field when a young human girl crossing her yard noticed me and stopped.
I hadn't panic, though cold dread had filled my stomach. I hadn't gone crazy and go yelling, "I've been seen! I've been seen!"
I'd stopped too, inching over to the horses huddled together with their heads down, standing perfectly still.
Fortunately, there had been a golden chestnut with a coat color very much like my own, and she must have mistook me for her. It had been dusk, and the light wasn't good.
I'd let out a breath when the human girl dismissed it and went inside the house.
The horses had been bunched together, eyeing me with mistrust, when a very cranky-looking mare had come charging up to me and demanded to know what I was doing in their field. I'd just replied, "Sorry ladies," bobbed my head, and was off again.
But I had to stop for directions. So I watched and waited.
My chance came during the near evening of the third day after I left the truck, when I spotted a horse being led into a stable.
The horse looked very much like a racer, so he might have heard of Oakwood Acres.
I spoke with the horse. He did know of O.A. In fact, he said, "Everybody knows about that place these days. Follow that road–" he gestured " and you'll reach it after two more days, I think."
A door banged open. I murmured my thanks and hurried off.
The human saw me. That was my second sighting.
He'd yelled, "Ey! Wotcha doin' 'ere?!" and come stomping toward me.
With no herd of horses to blend into, I fled into the night.
But I was sure now that this human would do something about me.
I was right. In the next place I stopped for directions, the occupants of the field saw me and one of them immediately said, "You're that runaway horse, aren't you? Better be careful if ya don't wanna be caught; a human saw you, and now he's got a lot of other humans looking for you, trying to catch you."
I found out what I wanted to know, thanked them, and left, tense and nervous.
Now, with even more houses and fields and humans and horses, I didn't dare to even cross fields or go anywhere by daylight.
The horse was right. In every farm I came to humans were constantly going about, shielding their eyes from the sunlight, and looking to the far distance.
That made things harder.
Not that they weren't hard enough.
Luckily, I found the stream, and relying on the assumption that this one fed the stream in the line of trees in our meadow, followed it all the way.
I wish I could say that I traveled in a straight line, found Oakwood Acres instantly, and the end.
Unfortunately, I'd be lying if I say so. It's been said 'Liars go to hell'. And I've had enough experience here on earth to know that I won't like it if I went.
Truth is, I found the place by accident.
Now, there's nowhere saying honest horses go to heaven but still…
What I could take credit for was that my guess was right: this stream did eventually lead to the woods bordering our old paddock.
The break in the snow-laden-trees came quite suddenly.
And I stopped.
I'd traveled for months just to get to this place. But now I stopped.
What should I do? What would I say to her? Should I stand here and become an ice Popsicle, or should I go and find her?
In the end, it was neither that I did.
I stepped out of the trees boldly.
No one stampeded; they would have been idiots to do so in this ice-frozen world.
But they stared. And I stared back, stared at the faces of the four young horses standing there, breaths coming out in puffs of vapor.
What should I say? "Hello, young 'uns!"?
They were wearing blankets. But that didn't have anything to do with anything.
I cleared my throat nervously. "Do you–do you know where the three-year-olds are kept?"
They looked like ice statues. One of them still had his hoof half-way in the air where he'd been scratching it on the fence post.
A filly was the first to find her voice. "They're…umm…I don't–we don't know…" she said hastily, glancing around at her companions and nudging them pointedly.
"We're new here; the trainer just bought us last week and…" Another filly trailed off.
"And we don't know anything about this place yet…" The first filly finished.
Ok, that did present a problem…
The two other fillies didn't seem to have unfrozen yet.
"We umm…do know where the yearlings are kept…" The second filly added hopefully.
Oh yeah, sure, that was a lot of help…
The first filly began. "We also know where the stables ar–"
I wasn't going to listen to the both of them list whatever they did know. "I know where the stables are," I snapped, suddenly feeling irritable.
They looked surprised. "Oh…uh…you do? Then do you know where–"
Why do I bother?
I remembered to count to ten, shook my head then disappeared back into the trees.
Okay. That had been the paddock where Fire Phoenix and Moon Dancer and Marionette had stayed in.
And if I remembered correctly, the paddock beside them had been empty, unless an invisible horse had been standing there.
My paddock. My throat closed remembering the days I'd spent in it.
And now it was empty.
Suddenly, I was brimming over with questions, where before I hadn't known what to do.
Were Marionette and Fire Phoenix and Sir Peppero still there? Was Sims still the trainer? Was Chaya still jockey? Did Moon still remember me?
There had to be other horses somewhere.
Finally, I took the risk of being seen, went out of the woods and started up the familiar path.
Human activity was virtually zero. Of course. This was in the middle of winter. They would be sitting inside in their queer human chairs, warming themselves with their electronic heaters (for those who don't know what heaters are, they are small electronic suns that give off warmth but do not give off heat. Though I've never actually seen one, it doesn't hurt your eyes to look at heaters the way it does when you squint at sunlight. And I've heard rumors that if you go near enough one, you will be roasted alive.)
Most of the fields were deserted. Of course. Most of the horses would be inside their stables.
Then I came to the end of the path and the start of the yard where I'd stepped out so many mornings before wearing a bridle and saddle, ready to run.
And I stopped dead.
Appalled.
What had once been magnificent, gleaming barns and stables were now standing desolately, their paint chipped and flaking. The wind came and wafted along with it a bad smell of manure and hay.
That stable hadn't been mucked out clean.
The feed room was beside it. I looked in through the glass window and saw where once before were metal bins full to the brim with bran and grain and oats were now near or half empty. Hay bales were thrown haphazardly about, and one had burst its ropes and was now lying scattered about the wooden floor.
I drew back, unnerved.
The tack room wasn't far. I ambled over, dreading what I was about to see.
The rows of racing and riding saddles and bridles, each lovingly washed, each squeaky clean, gleaming with excellent care, were now replaced by a row of the same saddles, some cracked, some missing from their places, others dull and stiff-looking.
Now I pulled away and went back to one of the barns. A dog was sitting there where there hadn't been one before.
Oh. Him. The dog who'd been bought to guard me in the first place.
He stared at me with dull eyes now, his ribs sticking out in his coat.
What had once been a excited quivering ball of energy full and bursting with life was now a sad little creature who had lost interest in everything.
He didn't remember me anymore. Or if he did, he didn't show it.
I made to step past him. For a moment, his eyes gleamed with something which died down the next instant. He just put his head on his paws and whined.
I felt apprehension leak away to be replaced with an overwhelming pity.
The stable door wasn't even closed. The horses inside must be freezing.
I pushed it open with my nose, stepping carefully over the dog. The painted sign that had proudly said 'Oakwood Acres' in green and gold paint was still there, though now it was swinging and squeaking in the wind.
I passed through, amazed. This was the barn where the riding horses and others were kept. The stalls had been full of bright-eyed gleaming heads with intelligent pricked ears ready to give a gentle snuffle and receive a treat in return when I was here.
The few horses inside now were not well-groomed, their coats dull instead of shining with health, their eyes empty with indifference. Water troughs smelled. Stray bits of straw littered the stone aisle.
A feeling of fear was rising in me now. All the other barns were either almost empty or just like this one: unkempt, sad-looking.
I went through the training barn last.
This had been my barn. My home.
I passed through the empty stalls one by one, remembering who had stayed inside them, my mind brimming with happy memories.
The one nearest the door but facing it…that stall had been mine. I stuck my head inside the half-door and smelled around.
The smells were stale. It hadn't been occupied in a long time.
The one across the aisle from it had been Moon's.
Moon…
Oh, how I longed to hear her voice again, to see that she was okay, to run with her through the grass–
I stopped. The wooden half-door dug against my chest as I stopped before the stall next to mine, across the aisle from the one beside Moon's.
This had been Sandstorm's stall.
Sandstorm…
A pang of pain cut through me sharper than any knife could ever have done.
I forced myself to turn away.
All the other stalls were empty. I wandered through the stable where some of the fastest horses in the land had once lived in.
Once this barn had been alive with activity; grooms and jockeys bustling in and out, horses neighing, stamping hoofs, snorting heads, flashing eyes–it had been alive.
But now, the empty stalls stood gaping at me like tombstones, echoes of their owners lingering…
I left quickly and headed for the fields again, trying not to give in to the heightened fear.
Where was everybody? Where were all the horses?
I couldn't believe my eyes; Chaya or Dick wouldn't have let the horses stay out in the fields in such weather. But the barns were almost uninhabited…
So where could they be?
The fields were almost as desolate as the stables.
Ah hah! The back meadow. The meadow behind the strand of trees and the creek…
I found it quickly.
Finally, there were horses here. Grown horses, retired racers probably, who had seen better days…
A pale shape stood apart from the multi-colored mass of blanketed backs. It climbed up a little slope and disappeared into the trees.
There were a lot of horses. That was unusual. Had all the horses been left here?
Why?
My eyes swept over them, searching, looking…and not finding.
Chills ran down my spine.
Where was Moon? Where was everybody?
These were strange horses.
This was a strange farm. Where once I'd known it as a place of comfort, it was now like a skeleton of what it had once been.
How could it have changed so much in a few short months? I'd just been gone about half of the year; this had been a thriving racing farm then.
Now…I shook my head and continued along the line of trees, looking for everybody…anybody I'd known…
Night arrived. The moon came out, making the whole meadow shine with unearthly moonlight. The horses dozed together.
I was hungry. I pawed out some grass from the snow and grazed, my ears pricked for approaching humans.
The water in the stream was iced over. I broke the ice and let the cold water slide down my throat as I drank.
A twig snapped behind me. My head shot up, water still dripping from my chin.
Someone was standing there, his/her face concealed by shadows.
Then, came the soft, gentle voice I remembered so well.
"Spirit?"
The next instant, I found myself burying my nose in her shoulder as we flew down to meet each other.
Moon's eyes were shining when we finally pulled apart.
"You came back…"
She sounded like she didn't believe it.
"You said you'd come back and you did…"
I rubbed my cheek against her silky mane, speechless with relief that she was okay.
"You could've been caught and yet you came back…" Her voice broke.
I nosed her. 'Where's everybody?"
"They're gone. Spirit, they're all gone."
"Everybody?" There was a sinking feeling at the pit of my stomach.
"Everybody except me and Sir Peppero and a few others."
"Why? Tell me everything."
And so, Moon began. " Everything started the day after you were stolen. It didn't take long for the grooms to discover that you were gone. "
"Of course, humans went looking for you. And obviously, they didn't find you.
"Things got very confusing for me after that, but Sir Peppero explained everything that happened to us."
"Our owner was mad, angry. Why not? He'd hoped to make a lot of money from you; you could have run in another Triple Crown and won it again, there would be more races, and still later, owners of mares would be flocking to him to have their mares bred to you."
"He wanted you back. So did Sims."
"Then, everything Sims had so carefully hidden about you–everything–came out."
"That you were half-mustang. That you had false papers. That you had been taken off the range. That you had been registered in the Jockey Club when it wouldn't have been allowed had they known."
"Now, everything changed. When they discovered you had mustang blood, suddenly, you meant nothing to them anymore. Our owner couldn't race his horses now; he'd been banned by the stewards. Sims couldn't train horses either; he was banned too."
"And once other people found out that you have mustang blood, they wouldn't want their mares bred to you, because no matter how fast the foals are, they would never have been allowed to race, so what was the use? To them, you were worthless, trash. They don't want you back now. "
"Our owner had to pay enormous sums of paper leaf money. Sims had to pay even more paper leaf money."
"Our owner sued Sims. And don't ask me to explain what 'sued means," she added hastily as I opened my mouth to ask her exactly the same thing. "because I don't know what it means."
"Anyway, Sims was fired soon. But this farm couldn't run well without him. You've seen what it has become. Our owner is a poor judge of character, but with everything that was going on, nobody wanted to work here anyway. It's being sold soon."
"This isn't a racing stable anymore. The track is deserted. We don't even go there. These days, I think no one does anything around here anymore; we just stay in this field day after day after day…"
"The other horses?" I prodded.
"They were sold, the racers one by one at first, then the rest roped off to auction, to pay the owner's bills. I hear we're being sold to someone else who plans to make this a breeding farm." Moon shuddered. "They kept me around only because the owner would get a good price for me should he decide to sell me."
"Steele?"
"He's still here. They keep all the fast ones, or the ones with good breeding."
"Marionette? Fire Phoenix?"
She bowed her head and whispered, "Sold."
"I'm sorry. I'm really sorry." What else could I say? She'd lost her best friend.
Why were horses suddenly losing their best friends all over the place?
"Dick and Chaya?"
"They left together with Terri just before Owner sued Sims. We don't know where they are anymore."
"Why didn't they sell Sir Peppero?"
"They tried. He was already old. No one wanted to buy him. So he stays. Now, your turn."
I told her everything that had happened to me since I last saw her.
Between her story and mine, took up the rest of the night.
And I didn't even notice the sun creeping up on us.
I didn't realize until I heard two shrill whistles that I was standing here, a golden horse against a white backdrop, easily seen, and in this weather, easily caught.
Three humans were walking along, banging pails they carried.
The horses had gathered around them.
If they came any closer, I would be seen!
"Midnight, by the creek, come if you want to leave," I told Moon then pushed past her and deeper into the woods where the humans would never bother to come after me, all the while wondering if she understood what I'd meant.
The rest of the day slid by. I paced and counted down the hours until evening, when I would go west, away from this place, and not come back forever.
This would be my last night here.
I wondered if Moon would come. I wondered if she would want to come.
And as I wondered, my stomach twisted and turned.
My plans for running away were just…running away. I'd gauged the time and the distance Jack had said it took the truck to travel to and back from Washington, and I'd decided to start early, not wanting to be left behind.
Night dragged by. I made my way through the woods, staying in the trees, until I found the creek again. Now the paddock with the four young horses was empty, their hoofprints still on the snowy ground.
Midnight.
I waited longer. And longer still.
And finally, feeling dead numb inside, I set off.
So Moon hadn't wanted to come at all.
Fine. I didn't blame her. It was a rough life out there: cougars, humans, and for a filly like her, stallions, stallions, and more stallions trying to steal her.
I told myself everything would be okay. I told myself that I would get back home with or without her.
I told myself to forget everything about humans or tame horses and focus on not getting caught and getting home quickly.
I told myself I could go on living without her.
But deep down inside, I knew I was lying to myself.
The dead feeling deadened some more. I found myself dragging my feet, not wanting to leave Oakwood Acres until I could see her one last time, make sure one last time that there hadn't been a mistake, that Moon still wanted to run away with me.
False hopes.
I forced my feet into a trot, wanting to get away from it all. Oakwood Acres was behind me now, and I was traveling beside a back country road that I was sure led to the highway.
I would forget about her. I would forget she even existed. I wou–
"Spirit!"
Was someone calling me?
I pushed into a canter.
"Spirit! Wait up!"
I slowed, disbelieving.
Moon caught up with me in a whirlwind of flying manes and tails.
I nosed her, happiness rising like a river that was threatening to overflow a dam.
"I'm sorry I was late. I had to wait till the humans were gone before I could get out. Then, I had to get rid of my blanket. That was hard…" She was panting, breathless from excitement. "Then when I got to the creek, you weren't there, but I saw your hoofprints so I followed them here…"
"Hoofprints…"
Her voice echoed in my ears. The word hoofprints stuck to my mind.
I looked back and say a trail of very plain tracks, leading right to where we were standing, which even a blind old dog could follow, and went cold.
"Spirit? You okay?" Moon was peering up at me, puzzled.
"Thanks for reminding me," I muttered distractedly, already on my way to the nearest vegetation I could find, which, in this case, was a large skeletal bush.
Ten minutes later, we were on our way back to the farm, branches in our mouths, our heads held sideways so as not to trip on them. Now, I glanced back and saw the tracks being wiped away by the dead branches.
We wiped away the last of the hoofprints up to the creek, then pushed the dead branches under some bushes.
Now, we stayed in the woods, and here, every single lesson my mother had taught me on how to conceal tracks came into use.
There was a lot of snow around. Rocks and stony ground were both buried underneath it.
It would be hard to go around unnoticed.
I swung around to face Moon. "Stay behind me all the time. Follow exactly what I do. We need to get a head start while it's still night. I'll explain everything when we find a safe place.
She nodded and we started off.
A while later, I glanced back and couldn't keep a smile off my face when I saw her putting her tiny hooves exactly where I put mine.
I hadn't left a scent. She wouldn't leave one either.
We followed the road until it split into two and the trees ended.
Now it looked a bit like the land beside the highway road. Out on the prairie, was open grass, or what used to be open grass and was now open snow.
The trees ended a few feet away.
Moon came up beside me.
"Whoa," she whispered, her eyes bright and sparkling at the winter wonderland spread out before us, white, almost glowing in the moonlight, pristine, undisturbed. The sky was a deep blue, dotted with shining stars.
I lipped her mane. "Welcome to the prairie."
"It's beautiful."
"You should see it during summertime. The ground isn't as hard as it looks like, and it's not smooth and slippery like when the track at home freezes over. Feel like doing a bit of running?"
She grinned. "I'd love to."
I grinned back. "Yee hah!"
We burst out of the trees, wheeling and bucking together, snow flying in sprays behind us as we went into a canter.
The ground rose slowly in front, the road a bit beneath our hooves.
We reached the crest of the gentle hill and I stopped.
"Look," I whickered softly.
Moon followed my gaze back to the farms and caught her breath. The distant farms and farmhouses with pastures and barns lay spread out below us, bright lights winking and twinkling at us like the stars in the heavens.
If we'd known what a postcard was, I would have said it was a postcard picture-perfect moment.
"Say, 'Bye-bye, humans!' "
She laughed.
"Come on."
We trotted down the slope. Now civilization was hidden behind us, humans and farms and tack things of the past. The trees swept away in a wide curve on both sides of the road. Out in front of us was ground to cover.
"We just follow the road. Just stay away from the highway so you won't be seen, or cross it or you might be hit by cars. There's no need to worry about being tracked; the humans will only think of this as the last place to look for us, and by then, our prints will have been erased."
Moon cocked her head. "Spirit, have you ever seen me run?"
"Not up close, just when you're in the paddock with Marionette. I'm sorry," I added quickly, because she'd grimaced. "If she were still there, she would have come with us of course. I wouldn't leave her behind."
"I know." But the twinkle had returned to her eyes. "Want to know how fast I can run?"
"Can I guess?"
"Ummm…nope." Moon put on speed and raced ahead of me. "Eat my snow!"
I shook my head and took off after her. "I don't think so!"
Laughing, we flew down the endless plain together, side by side, snow flying from our hooves, our feet touching and lifting off from the earth together in a steady drumming rhythm.
I stopped talking and concentrated on running, feeling the wind in my face, feeling my mane hitting my neck each time I took a stride, breathing the cold night air, just running…running with Moon…
The rest of the night passed in wonderful silence, spent just running, running.
However, all horses can't go on forever. We slowed to a walk, blowing and panting, our breaths misting in front of our faces, grinning all the time.
Then, Moon turned her head to the east, behind us. "Look." The first word spoken for a long time.
I turned my head too. A thin line of gray was touching the horizon.
My head swung let and right, looking for shelter automatically. "There." A line of dark shapes promised nice dark shade.
"But we'll get farther from the road." Ah, she was worried too.
"We'll just have to risk it, rather than being seen in open daylight and being caught. Its ok, we can always find it again." I hope, I added silently.
Leaving the road was dangerous. With no trees or mountains or landmarks to guide us, we could get lost and just go running in circles.
But it was either that or be seen.
No choice.
We reached the dark shapes (which turned out to be trees after all) and found water.
"You saved our lives last night," I said softly while Moon dipped her silver nose in the water and drank.
She didn't answer, just flicked back her ears.
"Yeah, I'm serious. You reminded me of the hoofprints. We'd have been in serious trouble by now if those tracks hadn't been covered up."
No answer.
I took my turn and drank.
Then, it was resting and grazing what grass we could find for the rest of the day, waiting for sunset.
Fortunately, sunset came very quickly, the days being shorter during winter than the nights.
We kept to the trees and moved on.
But the trees were soon leading away from the road.
And with no vegetation to hide us, we'd be more vulnerable than ever.
Uh ohh…did I make a mistake bringing Moon out here?
I would look back at her, obediently following in my footsteps, and wonder if I would cause the death of both of us just with my recklessness.
What if we starved? Grass was growing more and more scarce as winter wore on. What if Moon couldn't survive out in the wild?
What if she slipped or broke her foot or the other horses wouldn't accept her?
What if we were caught?
What if, what if, what if…
And I would sigh.
At first, we'd hide in the woods, watchful, fearful, jumping at every twig that snapped or every howl of the wind, expecting to see humans tramping toward us, ropes in their hands.
But as the days went on and there was no sign of pursuit, I became more and more wary.
What were they doing? Where were they? Not that I wanted them here, but better an enemy you can see than one you can't. If you can't see them, you won't know when they strike.
After our first day, I'd pulled Moon aside.
"You know where the mountains are, right? Now when the humans come, we'll be aiming for them, which is…west. Farms and paddocks are back East. If I get caught, I want you to run. Just keep on running and don't look back. Keep to the woods; the humans will have to go on foot there. Whatever you do, don't go out into the open, because they can drive their trucks there and use those things to catch you. If you go west, you may tire out before you find someplace to lose them to. But if you go East, you'll be trapped with the farming country before you. Your choice which way you run."
Her dark eyes had widened. "What if I get caught?"
I'd rubbed my cheek against hers. "I won't let them. Just remember: they're humans with two legs. You're a Thoroughbred, the fastest breed in the world."
She'd smiled.
But as we went on, Moon smiled less and less often. Life without humans was hard. I was used to it. But she wasn't. Everyday, she grew thinner, her ribs more prominent, her coat losing the shiny sheen of a well-fed horse. But she never complained, just stuck by my side through the snow and the wind, and one night, sleet and hailstones.
I'd forgotten about the truck. I'd forgotten about Jack and Snow White and Coconut and all the other ponies. I'd forgotten about the lift back West.
But one day, while we stood and watched, three humans jumped off a truck parked beside the road, set up a small round paddock made of tall sticks of wood with strips of cloth in between, watched as the ponies were coaxes out one by one into the coldness while the men cleaned the trailer of the dirty straw.
This was a different batch of ponies. I swept my glance over them, ready to move on when a bright bay horse raised his head. He looked familiar.
Very familiar.
I touched Moon's shoulder, whickered for her to wait here, and edged around behind the truck where I wouldn't be seen.
The ponies were lesser in number this time. They were strangers.
But the bay horse wasn't.
"Jack?"
His head snapped around.
"Ah hah! You're here!"
We trotted to meet each other.
"Where's your friend?" he asked right after we'd touched noses.
"You didn't even ask how I was!" I pretended to be offended.
He laughed and hit me lightly. "I can see you're all right. I have eyes, you know." He rolled them upward to demonstrate. "Now where's your friend?"
"Is it safe?"
He glanced at the men too. "You're right. Wait till we're about to be loaded. Then come inside so you won't get noticed."
I nodded and backed away.
"Moon?"
She was still there, standing in the shadows.
"We can get a ride West! We won't have to walk anymore."
"Good!" Now she stepped out into the sunlight. "I'd thought we were going to walk half-way across the country."
A door banged. The humans were coming back!
"Come on."
Amid stares from the ponies who now had very obviously seen us, we raced to the makeshift paddock and hopped inside.
Then, Moon noticed something else. "Spirit! They've got blankets on!"
"Ack!" What now? Too late to go back, and we'd look really really suspicious.
"Umm…" My eyes fell on the trailer. "Inside!"
We bolted up the ramp just in time.
One of the humans poked his head in.
"Don't act nervous. Pretend nothing's wrong." I muttered from the corner of my mouth.
Moon snorted. "Tell that to yourself."
She trotted to the humans and began nudging their coat pockets.
What do you do when a horse gets friendly? You get friendly in return, of course.
I watched disbelievingly as Moon got her ears petted, acting like a perfect little foal who'd just seen her best friends, like a dog sitting wagging her tail begging for a treat.
She sent a look my way. "Who's pretending now?"
I gritted my teeth and moved into the light.
Needless to say, we got what we wanted. After a great amount of prancing around, whuffing the humans, wearing cutesy, cuddly, *loving* puppy-dog expressions on our faces, the humans had decided we weren't strangers, we'd somehow gotten our blankets off, fetched us new ones, and soon we were trundling along with Jack and the other ponies.
Unfortunately, we made complete fools of ourselves in the process. What were those ponies going to think of us?
"Have I told you that you are brilliant?"
Moon snorted. "Do I have remind you that you've told me that for a thousand times already?"
"Have I also told you that you should think about joining a pet show?"
"Why?"
"Because the judges will take a look at you and let you walk away with all the prizes without even batting an eyelash."
She batted hers. "Like this?"
"We looked stupid, right?" I asked Jack.
He snorted too." She didn't. You did."
I rolled my eyes and watched them grin at one another.
Over the past few days in here, Moon and Jack had quickly taken to each other. He was now as fond of her as he was as fond of me, treating us like favorite nephews or nieces.
I don't know. Somehow, Jack was just like what I imagined Northlight would be if I'd gotten to know him well enough.
He'd become almost my father.
"But seriously!" I protested, not able to stop the corners of my mouth twitching upward. "Come on! We looked stupid, right?"
They just laughed.
I gave up and laughed along too, helpless.
The other ponies were not like the close-knit bunch of before. This time, they weren't really ponies at all, but assorted breeds left over from the sales no one wanted to buy. So, no one really talked to anyone else, unless they knew each other. Which was really rare.
Jack told me he had acted all mean and bad-tempered so no one would buy him. He liked traveling, he said, and besides, he wanted to see me again.
We stood side by side one day, watching snow blow past us outside the truck, talking softly, Moon having been drawn into a conversation with two other mares.
"You've chosen well," he whickered so only I could hear.
He didn't need to tell me he meant Moon.
I blew out through my nose. "I remember saying the same thing to my brother."
"She learns fast. You could train her to be a good lead mare in no time. Quick thinker. That little lady can take care of herself."
I nodded. He always referred to Moon as the 'little lady' after being introduced to her.
"If we stay free long enough for me to raise a herd…"
During the days in the trailer, I never thought about overshooting our destination.
It wasn't until we started passing trees and rock formations and more trees and once, a plateau, that I realized with a pang that I didn't even know where we were.
Unfortunately, Coconut, who'd been really good at geography, wasn't here.
That was…okay…I could still ask Jack.
More bad luck. Jack didn't know either.
Okay. So what if we overshoot the meadow? We could get off a little later, then retrace our way to the original spot where we'd planned to disembark.
In the truck, I couldn't be sure if the mountain range looming along the horizon was Three Peak's or not.
I wasn't sure of where we were even if the trees and rocks and the land in general looked familiar enough.
So, foolishly, I decided to wait, not wanting to go out in the snow and the driving winds again, decided to wait for just the right time.
Until the truck jerked me awake one morning and my eyes opened to the mountain range behind us.
What?! How could we have gone by so quickly? I raced to the back window and stuck my nose out.
There, outlined against the blue, was the barely seen dip in the mountains.
Wow. This was really really great. I could have hit myself on the head.
Of course I couldn't recognize the landscape! Of course I didn't know where we were!
When I'd gone home, I hadn't traveled on the road.
Of course everything would be unfamiliar! How could they be when I'd never even seen them before?
I found Moon and told her we had to get off at today's stop, seen or not seen, otherwise we would be wasting our escaping.
Fortunately, we managed to get away without the humans noticing, which was a miracle.
Unfortunately, we were faced with the prospect of walking miles and miles back East, because of my stupidity, trudging in the snow and the wind.
No choice.
As we took to the woods, the truck leaving us behind in a trail of tire tracks, Jack poking his face out and yelling "Good bye! Remember not to become cougar food!", I promised myself I would never, never, never ever procrastinate again.
It had almost cost us our lives and our freedom.
Now we were walking, covering a good distance a day, but we had to stop more often than not, because of Moon.
She'd led a soft life, filled with ready food and sunshine and green grass to run on.
She'd never learned how to find her own food, search for water, and other essential skills mustangs are taught from foalhood.
Out here, she would have to learn how to survive on her own.
Of course, it was harder for her to adapt here. For one thing, she got tired easily, used to running on a flat surface, not used to climbing or scrambling upwards or on a slope.
For another, she had small feet, and now, I came to see where my feet had some use after all.
My big feet would pass over cracks and small holes, while her tiny dainty hooves would sink into every crevice we set foot on.
But she didn't complain.
Moon never complained. Instead, it was me who would look back over my shoulder and see her head drooping low, her hooves floundering in the snow, and it would be me who had to keep on persuading her to take a rest.
She would protest of course, but I would say very very firmly that I was tired too. And she would gratefully stop.
At first, Moon would laugh and joke along with me, but as the distance and the poor food wore her out, her laughter would die down.
Soon, we were reduced to just walking in companionable silence.
And all this time I'd thought we'd gotten away easy, convinced myself that the humans would never come looking for us this far west, that we'd be safe enough.
And I would be proven wrong.
It was late one night when we heard them.
I'd awakened first to human voices shouting, lights flaring.
I was standing perfectly still, my eyes fixed on the distant yellow beams, when Moon's head came up slowly.
"Shh…" I spoke from the side of my mouth. Her eyes were still half-closed. She'd been exhausted that day, since we'd taken a particularly long detour uphill to avoid the stream, which was freezing.
"Humans…"
Instantly, her eyes shot open.
"What?!" Her voice was hoarse, as if she didn't believe it was happening.
"Tell me I'm dreaming. Please tell me this is a nightmare," she whispered.
"No," I whispered back, the familiar cold fear creeping up my stomach.
To prove it, I pressed my muzzle against her neck.
"You're right. This is reality."
Moon being a silver horse, she blended in naturally to the background and wouldn't be that easily seen.
I was a different matter.
We were trapped. Move and they would see us. Stay still and they would find us.
We slowly backed against some rocks, hoping against hope that the humans wouldn't come into this clearing, hoping that we would have some kind of camouflage.
Too bad it snowed when we didn't want it to, and didn't snow when we needed snow most, like right now.
I'd planned to stay still, stay put. Just stand here and maybe they wouldn't come at all.
Until we heard the crackling and snapping of dead branches snapping under weight, just coming from up one of the trails that led here.
"Let's go." I mouthed. This close, we didn't dare make a sound, even to whisper.
The humans had carried little light bulbs with them. They were approaching quickly. And from both trails, the trails that would lead them here.
"GO." No choice. We would have to go upwards.
The way up was steep. Moon went first. I followed, looking back every now and then.
Then, some rocks our hooves had dislodged came clattering below us, bouncing and hitting other rocks. I winced as the pebbles rolled into the clearing and stopped–right at the feet of one of the humans.
"Moon! Don't. Move."
He froze. The beam of light he carried swung upward immediately.
I held my breath and wondered if he could see us.
The beam was swinging back and forth about five hoofsteps from me. Ahead, Moon was a pale silver statue.
Other humans joined him. He turned his head and talked to them, and though we couldn't hear what they were saying, we could plainly see the human pointing his finger upwards…at us.
We didn't wait. The moment his back was turned, we fled into the darkness, more careful not to dislodge anything this time.
Somehow, we managed to slip past. How we did it, I don't know.
All I knew was that we'd started running once we reached level ground, running away, forgetting our tiredness, forgetting that we'd gone a long way the day before, just running to get a far distance from the two-leggeds.
Finally, we slowed, drawing in great shuddering gasps of breath, our coats damp with sweat.
"Do we stop?"
I shook my head, blowing. "We can't."
"But why? We left them back there. They won't find us here. They wouldn't know if it was us or some other wild animal. Not now." Of course Moon was puzzled.
I couldn't look at her. " Because they do know, Moon. They know we were there."