Disclaimer: I don't own any characters except Irbis and several innocent short-lived bystanders; everything else is Marvel's only.
3. Making Friends
The sun had just risen when Irbis started scrubbing the last horse, an old gelding named Amadeus. The other three, a group of playful young geldings, named Dalton, Watson and Paint, had already been taken to the field where they calmly spent most of the day. Indeed, calm was the operative word for these horses: ever since making their acquaintance, Irbis had seen no signs of a willy or dominant personality in any of the animals. They were as gentle and docile as could be hoped for.
Humming a light tune as she finished scrubbing the Apaloosa, Irbis faced the saddle. In Portugal, she'd ridden horses with English saddles, for general horse-riding lessons, but also with Portuguese saddles, when going off into the fields with other workers as well as in shows and competitions. But for as similar as Portuguese and western saddles might look, they still had a few differences. She had spent nearly an hour figuring how to get a horse ready for a ride using the different type of saddle, girth and reigns. In a way, she'd have preferred if someone had given her a heads up; on the other hand she was embarrassed about asking anyone for help: she was an experienced rider, after all.
The girth being tightened, Irbis put on the bridle and adjusted the stirrups to her size, then led the horse out of the barn. There was still no one outside and she felt at peace. It had been about half a year since she had last ridden a horse, but it had felt like an entire lifetime ago. With an agile movement, she mounted Amadeus and led him silently towards the pasture. She had already ridden Dalton and Watson, and planned on riding Paint the following day. Since the horses spent most of the day out in the field, she felt they had plenty of exercise and that a one hour ride every four days was enough, for the time being.
"Well, well," Irbis looked sharply around to see a man in a cowboy hat smoking a cigar. "I could've sworn Summers had said ya was takin' the day off."
She deadpanned. When she'd asked for the day off, she had assured the headmaster that she'd take care of the horses in the morning before leaving. Yes, he had said it wasn't necessary to worry about it, but she would never have left the horses unattended the whole day.
"I said to Mister Summers dat I take care off de horses before I go," she explained, a bit embarrassed over the misunderstanding.
The man grinned, his blue eyes analysing her in a way that reminded her of Creed. "There was no need fer it. If ya got the day off, someone else will take care of 'em. There's plenty o' folks around t'do it."
She immediately disliked him, but it didn't stop the pang of hurt at the idea that her presence and absence in the stables meant little or nothing.
"An English rider, huh?"
Irbis had ridden her first horse when she was 9 months old, at her grandfather's lap. She had been on top of a horse more often than on the ground, after that. However, she had only ridden on a western saddle a couple of times and now she wished she had had more practice. The posture that came the most naturally to her made the saddle feel uncomfortable, and forcing a different posture to better fit the saddle felt awkward. Still, she knew she would get the hang of it quickly enough. She just hadn't expected to have someone grinning at her inexperience.
"These horses ain't schooled fer dressin' an' stuff, ya know."
"Yes, I know," she said, doing her best to hide both embarrassment and wounded pride.
"So," he insisted, still an easy grin on his lips and an amused gleam on his eyes, "it may help if ya speak. Especially wi'these four horses... just say walk or trot an' they'll obey immediately."
"Yes, I discovered dat already," she patted the horse's neck as a way to calm herself.
"Well, since ya've done the job fer me, I guess I got some time t' kill." He bit down on the cigar and glanced at the other three horses, munching indolently in the field. "D'ya mind if I join ya fer a ride?"
Yes, obviously, duh! "Uh... If you want..."
"Great. Go on ahead then, and I'll catch up with ya in no time."
Irbis led the horse towards the trees, conscious that the rough looking man would soon join her to interrogate her. She still felt disheartened at the man's implication that they didn't really need her to look after the animals. She patted Amadeus. Sure she loved a lively, willy horse; sure she loved making them submit and obey her; sure she loved working with the horse as one, whether to round up cattle or to provide an inspiring show. But those gentle, untaught horses needed her attention. Determinedly, she pushed back any other possibility. The horses needed her.
Irbis rushed through the corridors; she was late. She'd ended up spending much longer riding than she had planned because she hadn't had the nerve to tell Mr. Logan that it was time to go back. And the man hadn't even talked much! Yes, he'd tried to ascertain where she was from and any other details he could gather, but he hadn't asked any direct questions. He hadn't asked almost any questions.
"Ya started ridin' real young, huh," had been one of the most direct questions.
All in all, a waste of time for both of them: he had got her late; and she had given him only moronic 'hun' answers.
She had almost reached the front door when a teenage girl got in front of her with a Cheshire cat smile. "Hey there, you're Isabel, right?"
Taking a deep breath to keep her hurry out of sight, Irbis nodded with a non-committed smile of her own.
"You're in a hurry or something?" The girl, probably sixteen or seventeen, had marked Asian features, but unexpectedly blue eyes. However, the most conspicuous thing about her was the yellow raincoat; it screamed 'look at me' all over.
"Yes, I'm sorry. I am going to town."
Her smile grew exponentially. "Great. I'll do my best to keep you company then! Where are your wheels?"
Irbis felt like groaning. On the other hand, it was the first time someone was paying her attention. Sure, it was a teenager but... well, anything would be better than nothing. And the girl certainly looked like a better company than Mr. Logan. She would just have to post the letter when she wasn't looking.
"What's your name?"
"Jubilee," she chirped, her voice bubbling with cheerfulness. "But you can call me Jubes."
"Well, we have to wait a little by de taxi," she explained. "I don't have a car."
She hadn't wanted to risk bringing anything that might connect her to Wausau. However, the need to go into town regularly had her considering getting a less expensive means of transport than the taxi. Maybe she ought to invest in a bicycle.
"You're joking! Hey, I got a brand new scooter; won't you rather hitch a hike with me?"
Hmm... a scooter had some advantages over the bicycle – speed, mostly – but it would also require a bigger expense both when purchasing and when fueling.
"Yes, thank you, Jubilee."
The girl responded energetically and immediately got hold of her arm. "I've heard so much about you," she finally revealed. "Scott was going on about someone facing these three lil' punks who, like, go about looking for trouble everywhere they go and I was like, what, the Californian almost-turned-bomber? And he was like 'course not, the new one, and I was like what new one? 'Cause I hadn't heard about no new arrivals, but with all the new arrivals every other day, it's hard to keep track of student arrivals and non-student arrivals, right? So anyway..."
The teenager, Jubilee, spoke much too fast for her to fully follow the drift, but Irbis managed to get the essential: she had heard of her standing up against the three kids and had been either curious or impressed, Irbis wasn't sure which. When the duo got to the garage, Irbis immediately spotted the scooter. It was a little blue thing that, side by side with the teenager's cheerful laid-back attitude, had Irbis reconsidering the wisdom of accepting the lift. On the other hand, it was free: you can't very well argue with that type of advantage.
"... and then I snooped around to get my hands on the kids' behaviour report – 'cause all the kids here that get into big trouble (and getting all yuppity on non-mutants counts as, like, seriously huuuuuuge trouble), so those kids get their information filed up in these reports that Scott and Emma lock up in their office and..."
Soothingly, the sound of the engine drowned her voice. Amazingly, she became aware that Irbis wouldn't be able to hear her and whipped her head back. "We won't be able to talk while I'm driving 'cause of the noise. But don't worry: we'll get to the mall in absolutely no time!"
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