by Leigh Hutton
Um … yes. The lake was a rainbow of colour, the spruce trees all around lit up and dancing through the night. The sky was pitch black, clear, and twinkling with silver stars. A half moon lit the wide expanse of frozen water, interrupted only by the shadows from the trees.
Her breath caught in her throat, and she stared in wonder at the reflection and brilliance of this glorious Christmas display.
‘Now I’ve set the mood,’ Marcus moved close, so his arm was touching hers, ‘let’s talk shop.’ Strangely, Ebony didn’t feel uneasy. Not even light in the stomach with butterflies, like she’d felt only a few times before, when guys she was crushing on moved in close.
‘I’ve been speaking to Clancy and I’ve got a few that we could lease to you, at a small fee, of course.’
‘Wouldn’t expect any different,’ Ebony smiled and shook her head, ‘I’ve got an idea, though.’
‘Do enlighten me.’
‘Monster.’ The horse’s name merged with the night, two in the same, at home in the darkness.
‘Who?’
‘Mon-ster? I tried him once when you had him for sale. I haven’t seen him in the stable, but I assumed you might have taken him to a private facility, for rest? Please tell me you haven’t sold him?’
Marcus laughed. He kept laughing, until he was shaking and had to rest his elbows on his knees to regain his composure.
‘Let me in on the joke,’ Ebony said.
‘What in the hell made you think of that psycho?’ Marcus leaned back and stared at her, incredulous. ‘No,’ his eyes lit like a light bulb, ‘man, I’m an idiot! Of course Agony wants to ride the horse from hell! A match made in heaven!’
‘Quit calling me that.’
‘Look, darlin’, you can literally have that horse, but if you think ’
‘Spare me the BS, Marcus. You wouldn’t have bought him in the first place and even kept him around if he didn’t have something. And what I saw that day was talent and potential and something very special and hard to find; Monster has heart. And right now, I’m in need of a Christmas miracle, so if you could please just cut the crap and tell me what the deal is, I’d really appreciate it.’
Marcus rubbed his jaw and shook his head. ‘You are a strange one, Ebony Scott Harris.’ He looked her in the eye. ‘Sure you don’t want to lease Fleetwood?’
‘I’m broke, Marcus, and as far as I can tell, so is Annika. We can’t afford a going Grand Prix horse!’
‘We’ll keep Johnny on his program and hope like hell he can get his shit together.’
‘Tell me you didn’t get rid of Monster,’ she said.
Marcus laughed. ‘Alright! He can be your Christmas present. But you’ve got to know, I haven’t done anything with him since you looked at him.’
‘That was months ago!’
‘Surely, it wasn’t? I was waiting ’til I needed the padded stall for another horse, but I guess we haven’t needed it. I think Clancy was saying he’d found some retirement farm for him, but I’d just suggested the meat market.’
‘What? — No you didn’t?’
‘I don’t remember finalising anything. I did try to sell him, but, come to think of it, you were the only one who stayed on, for a little while, anyway — I heard that was one wicked dismount!’ He laughed and slapped his knee. ‘Freak of a thing, Monster was. He bit the crap out of everyone else. I couldn’t have him going at my staff like that. So I left him in there. Don’t get me wrong, Ebony. I did like Monster, he was once a brilliant horse … But I’m busy, you know?’
‘Yeah, I know. You are busy with all of your other easier, million-dollar horses, so you didn’t have to try with him!’
He shrugged.
‘He better be okay,’ she said.
‘Don’t worry! I’m sure they’ve been feeding him.’
‘You’re unbelievable.’
‘And if they haven’t been feeding him,’ Marcus said, dropping his voice low and mysterious, ‘then the Ghost of Billy Black has surely been dragging some hay his way. Watch out for the old guy by the way — if you insist on being in the barn at night. I never go there after dark, neither do the girls. It’s definitely haunted.’ Marcus gave her a ‘woooooo’ and waved his hands in front of her face, then smiled, before ducking his head in his usual way, and answering his mobile — which had been ringing from within his pocket for about a minute — and striding off towards the bushes near the Rider’s Chapel, where Ebony assumed he would be relieving himself.
★
When Marcus returned to the bench, after indeed using the bushes as a loo and signing off from a rather surprising and flirtatious conversation with Mantina Fairbone — which had excited him immensely at future pairings with not only her, but her royal relatives — Ebony was gone.
‘Huh,’ he said to himself, feeling a little sad. He was growing to enjoy the company of the cantankerous girl, the way he did his more challenging horses. Except for Monster, that was …
When Marcus felt a pain in his chest, he grasped his phone to his heart, collapsed on the park bench and nearly dialled his mother. He was having a heart attack, he was sure of it. Why else would his chest hurt like this? However, as he pondered this pain a single word managed to pry its way into his mind, and germinate.
Guilt.
It wasn’t an emotion he remembered having ever experienced. But there it was. Marcus Frank felt bad for turning his back on Monster. And Ebony had made him feel this way. This shameless playboy felt guilty. Interesting indeed.
★
Ebony ran all the way to her Mustang. She nearly collapsed, out of breath, but managed to get inside, crank the engine, and speed all the way to Marcus Frank’s. She had a key for a side entrance, Winnie had scored it for her, so she could come and go as she pleased at any hour — mostly for her sketch sessions with Gallant.
The vast interior of the stable was mostly silent, with the exception of a few ticking clocks and one or two snoring horses. The yellow, night time lights always creeped her out and reminded her, with their old-style bulbs and metal surrounds, of those she’d seen in horror movies. Like Wolf Creek. Marcus’s warning about the Ghost of Billy Black flashed into her mind, and the hair on the back of her neck stood on end, goose bumps racing down her arms. She’d heard the clopping of hooves in the hall one night when she fell asleep in Gallant’s stall. She was sure it had been a dream, though. There was no such thing as ghosts.
She slowed her gait only to check on Johnny and Tootsie, who were curled in their polar fleece rugs, noses in bedding, in a mirrored spot against their middle wall — like they could sense the other’s position and had sought them out for comfort.
Neither horse stirred with her presence.
She crept along the chilly corridor, watching her breath, past the tack rooms, the hallway to the indoor arena, the last few stalls, which had been empty since she’d arrived. Pushed open a solid wooden door; it creaked from lack of use. Inside, the yellow light in the narrow corridor was on the fritz, and flashing and buzzing like a bug zapper. Goose bumps raced down her legs against the denim of her jeans, and her heart pounded so loud and fast she could hear it, but she pressed on, looking straight ahead and blocking out the darkness, focusing on the light. She shoved her hands into the deep pockets of her jacket for support.
She passed an open feed stall on her left, a vacant tack room and wash bay on her right. The door to the padded stall was just ahead, she could almost touch it.
Ebony heard no sound, bar the spazzing light and her own heart. The smell of stale manure and urine met her nostrils and she could have hurled. Her hand shot to her mouth, and she peered through the tiny window in the door. There was just enough sporadic light to take in the shadows and outline of a bony, lifeless animal slumped in the back corner of the stall.
At this point, Marcus Frank lost any and all attraction to her. He was more like a monster. Marcus was the monster. One who’d be getting what he deserved.
‘Winnie?’ Ebony asked, knockin
g gently on the door that she had already opened and was walking past to the bed. ‘Winnie, wake up!’ She rested a hand on her friend’s shoulder and shook her lightly.
‘Clancy?’ Winnie sat bolt upright, her arms flinging forward. ‘Senore hello!’
Ebony switched on the bedside lamp. ‘You two been having midnight trysts, have you?’
Winnie’s eyes shot open and her hands went straight to her hair, pulling it in line, smoothing its glossy, black strands back into a ponytail.
‘I weesh, Senorita Ebony.’ She sat up abruptly. ‘What time ees eet?’
‘Time to save a horse, Win. Here’s some jeans.’ Ebony chucked a pair at her from off the neat pile on her dresser. ‘And your jacket. You got any carrots?’
‘Freedge, there. Eef Johnny not eeten.’
Ebony flung open the tiny bar fridge and grabbed the last carrot from a bag in the veggie crisper. ‘We’ll need a water bucket, too, I didn’t see one in the stall.’
Winnie stumbled out of bed and pulled on the jeans. ‘What ees it?’
‘Has your boyfriend ever mentioned Monster?’
‘That horse? No … Marcus sent heem away, no?’
‘No, he’s here, Win. Monster is here and he needs our help.’
Ebony tied her skull bandanna around her mouth to keep the stench of the stall from making her spew. She opened the door slowly, glad for the extra light being cast from the daytime fluoro’s she and Winnie had switched on, but at the same time, not at all enjoying the extra detail she could now make out of this poor creature in front of her.
The horse she had once known as Monster was no more. Dull coat, protruding hipbones. The poor animal didn’t even raise his head from the corner of the stall. The shavings had nearly disintegrated and decomposed into the crap and urine on the mats. There was no sign of a feed bucket, and the waterer was green with mould and sucked dry.
Ebony approached the horse slowly, the carrot in her outstretched hand. At first, she wasn’t sure Monster even knew she was there. He stared, his dull eyes half shut, at the padded back wall.
‘Monster, buddy?’ Ebony whispered. She moved within a foot of his shoulder, light on her toes, ready to spring back if he went on the attack.
Monster’s ears quivered, and he sniffed at the air. His eyes opened wide, frantic, and his face slowly swung around.
Ebony rested a hand on his muzzle, still soft as velvet, despite his lack of life. She was no longer afraid. There was no fury left here, only relief. She recognised the look in the great horse’s eyes; a beam of light breaking through what had become a dark and hopeless space. She imagined looking the same way herself, when Annika had told her about the move to Marcus’s. Or when, as a child, her social worker had come to tell her that they’d found her a new foster home. Or when the janitor had found her, as a screaming, hour old baby, wrapped in a hoodie and abandoned in the disabled toilet of a city shopping centre. Just her, and a note. With the lightening bolt earring speared through the paper.
She was sure that, just like herself, there was still fight within him, deep inside, waiting for a time when he had the energy and when he was refuelled enough to spring out and wreak his vengeance on the world. But right now, Monster was just happy to see her.
He took weak, but determined bites at the carrot, his ears flopped to the side, barely standing on three legs.
When Winnie brought in the water bucket, Monster let out a deep sigh, and drank for several minutes.
In the morning, Ebony decided, she would return Monster to the world. He may be broken now, but she knew, from being broken could rise great strength. She was going to do everything within her power to nurse Monster back to health.
Ebony and Winnie led the limping Monster out into the main barn before the sun had a chance to rise. They wanted to get him settled, in the first of the empty stalls, well away from any other horses, before the other grooms or riders could turn up and upset him. Not that the poor horse would have cared. It was a serious struggle for him to walk, his shoes were loose and ripping off, and his legs so skinny, he had to fight to keep his frame from collapsing on the concrete. He was so brave and strong, despite what he’d been through, and Ebony was so incredibly proud of him. He kept his head close to her, letting her stroke his forelock, then his ears. If she left his side, he whinnied, searching for her frantically. He also warmed to Winnie, letting her feed him cut up pieces of carrot and handfuls of hay. They were careful not to give him too much food too quickly, due to the risk of colic, after having an empty stomach for so long.
Ebony and Winnie were in his stall when the first rays of the day’s light breached the small window along the top of the wall. Monster raised his head, and the streams of bright yellow sun struck his face. He closed his eyes against its warmth. Ebony put a hand on his forehead and stroked him soothingly. It was like a new dawn, she realised, for this poor troubled horse, and for her. Maybe they could heal together.
Ebony was exiting the stall to get a fresh bucket of water, when Clancy bounded around the corner. ‘Bloody hell!’ he said, his eyes red with strain. ‘Monster — I’m so sorry!’
‘How could this have happened?’ Ebony was right up in his face, without intending to be. She shut the door of the stall carefully behind her and pushed Clancy out into the corridor. Even her bones ached with rage.
‘I dunno know, Eb!’ Clancy looked past her, into the stall. ‘Seriously, I had no idea!’
Winnie moved up behind her.
‘I was lookin’ after him until what must have been a few weeks ago,’ Clancy continued, ‘then Marcus told me he’d sent Monster to a cowboy for more breaking in and his name was crossed from the board. I’m sure I checked his stall and it was empty. Since then I haven’t even been down that end of the barn and, uh, shit—’ The lumbering, masculine man started to cry.
Winnie clearly couldn’t help herself. She threw her arms around him and held Clancy to her big chest. ‘Even if he’d had the strength to call out, poor bloke,’ Clancy said. ‘I doubt anyone would have heard him! The way he used to carry on, we’d all got immune to it.’
Ebony bit her tongue to keep from yelling in his face. She wanted to try to stay calm, for Monster’s sake. She would be seeing Marcus later in the day for her lesson on Johnny, and he was a horse who thrived on excitement. When Ebony got a hold of Marcus Frank, Johnny would be getting his fill of dramatics.
Ebony was just finishing grooming Monster, his dark bay coat now clean from dirt and even casting a thankful sheen, when a slim, bright girl she recognised as Jasmine ‘Jazz’ Kassedy popped her head in the stall door.
Monster didn’t seem to mind, keeping his nose buried in a bucket of oats.
‘Hi!’ The girl said. ‘I was so excited to hear you’d found Monster! I’ve been wondering what happened to him.’
‘You obviously weren’t too concerned,’ Ebony snapped, then watched, studying the girl’s pretty face for her reaction. Jasmine had lively brown eyes, a cute heart-shaped face and light brown hair, streaked with blonde in the sunlight, worn in a long single braid down the middle of her back. She really was a cute little thing, Ebony concluded. And she wasn’t fazed in the least by Ebony’s jab. This was very unusual for a horse show princess; they were always looking to be baited.
Ebony had heard about Jasmine from Cecile, and, in the last year or so, she’d seen her around the shows. Cecile met Jasmine’s mum, Leslie, when Leslie was put in charge of a new tack supply company that opened in Calgary a few years before. Cecile had raved about Jasmine, and how the girl was the talk of the show circuit after her family had moved back from the States, where they’d been living since Leslie had taken a job down there when Jasmine was just a pony jumper. Cecile had always wanted the girls to meet, but they were so busy with the horses, and then Cecile was dead. A jab of regret stabbed her heart for not making time; and Ebony nearly cried. She turned her face up into the sun, and swallowed hard.
‘I totally was concerned!’ Jasmine continued, r
aising her hand to Monster’s shoulder. Ebony jumped forward; ready to remove the girl from the horse’s path if he lost his marbles. But he didn’t so much as lift his head. Monster’s coat shivered at Jasmine’s touch, like he would to expel a fly.
Jasmine stroked him gently and as her hand moved over Monster’s coat, he let out a loud sigh, and an even louder fart.
Both girls cracked up. ‘Now that’s the Monster I remember!’ Jasmine said. ‘Cheeky and boisterous!’
‘And smelly, whoa!’ Ebony waved her hand in front of her face.
‘So, are you gonna ride him?’
Ebony was surprised to feel herself relaxing — she never let her guard down around a ‘princess’. Now, she was sure, the girl would move in for the kill, as Mantina or the others would have.
Jasmine stared up eagerly at Ebony, her eyes vacant of any maliciousness or aggression. She wasn’t scared, of Monster, or of her. Just excited and eager. At that moment, it was with a sharp pain to her heart that Jasmine reminded Ebony of Cecile; she was always so full of energy, warm, kind, and ready for anything.
Ebony’s face stretched into a smile. ‘Of course I’m gonna ride him,’ she ran her hand down his tangled mane, working out a few knots, ‘once we get him strong enough. Marcus gave him to me.’
‘That’s awesome!’ Jasmine clapped her slender hands and jumped, cautiously, as to not surprise Monster. Her braid bounced as she did. Ebony sensed the girl’s strong affinity with horses.
‘You seem to know a lot about him,’ Ebony said.
‘I love Monster! Nobody else did, but I do!’ Her hand again found his coat. ‘I know what he’s capable of. I’ve seen him jump and it’s something I’ll never forget.’
‘Who was riding him?’
‘You, of course!’ Jasmine said. ‘He only let Marcus on his back once and got pretty angry with him — it didn’t end well and Marcus has hated him ever since. But you, you seemed to get him, ya know?’
Ebony’s eyes went wide, as she watched this young girl, who couldn’t be more than fourteen, speak with wisdom well beyond her years. She had never met anyone quite like Jasmine and felt relieved and happy to be reminded of Cecile, by someone who was very much alive and present.