Wild Horse Spring

by Lisa Williams Kline

  My lungs burned. My calves ached. A damp coating of sweat and salt covered my entire body. I hadn’t realized how much longer this was than my usual cross country course. And it was late morning, a fairly stupid time to run, if I did say so myself.

  But no matter how much my muscles hurt after a run, my mood was always fantastic. About a ten on the Moronic Mood-o-Meter. On days we had cross country practice, I sometimes forgot to take my mood pills. I started feeling so good, I didn’t need them, like a kind of cool brain buzz, like right now. I felt like nothing could stop me.

  It had been almost a full day since I’d seen the horses. They could be miles away. But I was counting on them being out around here somewhere. I wouldn’t give up until I found them.

  Pretty soon I had to slow down to a walk. The sand had turned fluffy, and it sucked my feet down into it like a drain. Panting, and pushing sweaty tendrils of hair back from my face, I finally found the packed-down road we’d been on yesterday. I climbed it to the top of a dune. And before me lay rolling sand hills dotted with the small scrub pines and sea grasses that the wild horses had learned to eat.

  Off to my right stood some houses on stilts with old, faded looking cars sitting outside. Nailed to trees around the yards were black and red signs reading No Trespassing and Keep Out.

  No horses anywhere.

  At the top of the next dune, I sat down, took off my shoes, and poured a bunch of sand out of each one.

  I put my shoes back on and wandered farther. The sun blazed above me, and away from the water the breeze died away to nothing, so the air sat heavy as a blanket. My mouth felt like cotton, and my teeth gritted on sand. When beads of sweat rolled out of my hair and into my eyes, I swiped them away, but it didn’t stop the burning.

  I decided to walk over one more dune. See what was on the other side. If I didn’t see anything, I’d turn back.

  There! Gathered in the shade of a huge live oak with twisting branches and small, dark, shiny leaves, six of them. The black stallion, the foal, which I was now calling Dark Angel, and its mother. The younger sorrel stallion that looked a little like a palomino. And two other mares. I stood, catching my breath, watching. The air was still, and they twitched their ears and swished their long tails, shooing flies. They looked like a family, all grazing on this rugged land together. The stallion raised his head and looked at me. He seemed to be considering whether I was a threat. I stood still, angling my head away, not making eye contact, so I didn’t look like a predator. I’d read in one of my horse books about relating to horses like that. He lowered his head again to graze.

  Moving slowly, I sat down, took a swig of my water, and removed the baggie with the apples and carrots from my pocket.

  I was dying to get closer and see if I could touch one of the horses, but I patiently sat and watched. The mustangs had a loose, rhythmic walk that I could watch all day. Just being around them made me feel relaxed. They were small, but their proportions were so perfect. I loved watching the pecking order in a herd, just like the pecking order in a group of kids at school. The black stallion was in charge of the group. The younger sorrel stallion was full of energy, circling a small bay mare, while Dark Angel followed her mother around like a shadow, wobbling on her skinny, knobbed legs, staying close to her mother’s shoulder, her slanted, brown eyes never leaving her. The mother was caring in a tough sort of way, nuzzling Dark Angel and making sure she was always with her.

  I slowly moved the slightest bit closer, imagining the joy of the moment I first touched one of them. The young sorrel stallion caught my attention. He was spirited, breaking into a canter, whirling, and throwing heel kicks. He circled behind the small bay mare, lowering his head and trying to herd her.

  I loved his spirit. I named him Firecracker.

  Just as I moved a bit closer, the black stallion trotted over to Firecracker, lowered his head, and tried to separate him from the mare. Firecracker trotted a few yards away and then wove his way back in the bay’s direction. The stallion’s ears snapped erect. He lowered his head and pawed the ground.

  The other mares moved a slight distance away, the mother nudging the foal along. In a matter of seconds, I realized that I was now watching the two stallions, the black and the young sorrel, face off. The black stallion was reclaiming the bay mare.

  Suddenly, with a screeching whinny, the black laid back his ears, rose on his hind legs, and lunged at the sorrel. Their bodies, as they collided, made a sickening thudding sound. Firecracker stumbled backward, then whirled and rose to his hind legs, kicking up clouds of sand, his teeth bared.

  The two pawed, kicked, and twisted their heads, each trying to reach the other’s jugular vein. The sounds were awful—the thud of their bodies colliding, their screams and grunts, the battering of their hooves on the ground. Swirling dust rose into the air. I held my breath, taking one step forward and then two back. At one point both of the black’s front hooves rested on the sorrel’s withers, just like they were dancing.

  But they weren’t. They were trying to kill each other.

  The struggle continued, with high-pitched whinnies and sand exploding from their hooves, until at last the black sank his teeth into Firecracker’s neck. Firecracker squealed in pain and wrenched himself away. Then the black raced back to the herd, pawing the ground, bucking, and tossing his head. Firecracker, after standing uncertainly for a moment, doggedly began to make his way back toward the herd, with his head lowered. The black wheeled and charged again, reared on his hind legs, and again aimed his teeth at the front of Firecracker’s neck. Firecracker tried to pull away, but when the black’s entire weight fell on him, his rear legs crumpled underneath. After a few long seconds, the black disentangled himself from Firecracker and galloped back to the herd. Firecracker dragged himself to his feet and trotted away, shaking his head as if to clear it.

  Was the black kicking Firecracker out of the herd? I had read in my horse books that when one of the mare’s colts became old enough, he sometimes would challenge the stallion who led the group. When this happened, whichever stallion loses the challenge would then be shunned from the group and be out on his own. Was Firecracker being shunned? I had read that the herd was everything to a wild horse. Wild horses knew that surviving without the safety of the herd was practically impossible. Would Firecracker survive? Would he find another herd?

  Now the black was herding the mares and the foal away from Firecracker. He circled behind them, urging them toward a marshy area on the other side of the trees. I stared at Firecracker, holding my breath, as he stood looking longingly at the harem. Again he shook his head, and his straw colored mane feathered in the wind. He took a step toward the other horses, then pawed the ground with his small, neat hoof, and lowered his head again. My throat tightened and my eyes stung as I watched him.

  Even though I never talked to anyone about it, I knew that feeling. I felt shunned at school. Like when people were talking about me behind my back, calling me “Animal.”

  Stephanie knew about my mood pills, but nobody else knew. Sometimes I worried that people would find out, but I was pretty sure she hadn’t told.

  Firecracker began to nibble at the sea grass a short distance from the herd, occasionally cocking one ear in the direction of the others. He took two steps toward them, then one step back.

  I followed Firecracker, a little distance behind. Did he have a wound on his neck? Was he losing blood? What would happen to him? Would he battle his way back into the herd, or would he find another one?

  He’d need strength. Now was the time to offer him the apples and carrots.

  After an hour, I was sitting on a fallen log within ten feet of Firecracker. He was grazing along the side of the path, following the herd at a distance, never letting the rest of them out of his sight. I had finally gotten close enough to see that on the side of Firecracker’s neck was a wound from the stallion’s bite, and a thin stream of blood crawled through the fur on his neck toward his foreleg. Slowly, I got to my feet and
held out half an apple at arm’s length in the flat of my hand. I stood very still and talked to him.

  “Are you doing okay? That’s a good boy. How about a nice, juicy apple. I promise I will never hurt you. Here.”

  Firecracker slowly raised his head and snorted softly. I held very still, so I wouldn’t spook him. His nostrils quivered as he smelled the apple.

  He looked at me with tired, wary eyes and cautiously stretched out his slim, damaged neck, his velvety lip beginning to wrinkle.

  8

  STEPHANIE

  For a while, I sat on the beach by myself. The tide was out, and the beach was wide and flat, with a few other families sitting under umbrellas. I had set up my chair near a tide pool that had collected in a low spot on the beach, then went down and stuck my toes in it. I loved tide pools. The were usually warmer than the water, and sometimes I could see little critters digging into the sand on the bottom, sending tiny bubbles squiggling to the surface. It was like its own little world.

  While I waited for Diana, my mind kept going over the last day of school before break, about the way one of the eighth grade football players had called her Annn-i-MAL while we were in the hall between classes. I didn’t know if she heard him. I wanted to keep ignoring it. That would be the easiest thing to do. But maybe not the right thing. I mean, what would I say if I was to stand up for her? And it’s not as if she wanted my help. She barely talked to me at school! I didn’t want to think about it.

  After a while I checked my phone; almost an hour had gone by. What was Diana doing? And suddenly I knew. She wasn’t coming down at all. She’d skipped out on me—again. I bet anything she’d gone to find the horses.

  I put down my book and stood up, turning to look back toward the long, empty, wooden walkway to our house. The triangular window reflected back at me, like a blank stare.

  What if Daddy and Lynn got back early for some reason, and Diana wasn’t back? What if she got in trouble? What should I do?

  I could take one of our bikes and look for her, but based on where we went yesterday, a bike wouldn’t make it through the soft sand on some of the roads behind the dunes.

  I sat down, leaned my head back, and closed my eyes. The insides of my eyelids were red with the bright sun.

  Well, Diana could just get in trouble, that’s all. She was on her own. I shouldn’t have to run after her. I hated it when Daddy got mad at us, but she obviously didn’t care. What did she care about, except horses?

  I opened my eyes and sat up, trying to put Diana out of my head. I went back to the tide pool, sat at the edge, and put my feet in, watching the tiny crabs dig into the wet sand. Sticking my hand in the water, I picked up a dark mound of sand and watched the crabs busily dig to escape me, their tiny, white cone shaped shells sliding out of view.

  I saw a tiny figure far away down the beach moving closer. I saw the gray hoodie and the regular movement of Cody’s thin, dark legs, and I could feel my heart beat faster, pumping in my collarbone.

  Could I get him to stop and talk to me? I decided to practice some of my tumbling on the flat area of the beach right by the water.

  I put my hands over my head and did a round off. Slow and easy to start off. Then another. Then a couple of back handsprings. One direction. Then another.

  One of the things we had to do for our cheerleading routine this year was a standing back tuck, so I stood very still, arms to my sides, took a few breaths, and pulled one. Perfect.

  I planned it so that just as Cody ran by, I linked together a round off, a back-handspring-back-tuck, and a lay out. A long, unbroken stream of me flying through the air, twisting, landing, and taking off again. I landed clean and solid on both feet. Slightly out of breath.

  He stopped.

  “Wow!” He wiped sweat from his face with the tail of his T-shirt, then leaned over, his hands on his knees, to catch his breath. “That was amazing!”

  “Thanks!” I felt myself blush, so I looked away.

  He walked in a slow circle, still catching his breath, hugging a towel around his neck.

  His dark hair was amazingly shiny, and he had a fun kind of energy that I liked in a way I couldn’t explain. “How far did you run today?” I wiggled my toes in the tide pool, then noticed he was staring at them. For some reason I felt kind of self-conscious, so I stopped.

  “Three miles. My normal distance. Are you on the cheerleading squad at your school?”

  “Yeah.”

  “That looks pretty hard.”

  “It does take a lot of practice.”

  “You’re good!” His teeth flashed with the compliment, and I could feel my face getting hot again.

  “I don’t know.” I looked away. “Just average on my cheer squad. I used to take gymnastics, which helps.” We were quiet for a minute. Then I asked, “So what’s your mom studying?”

  “She’s studying the trees in the maritime forest, the way they grow and adapt to the weather. She’s classifying a bunch of them.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “They twist and grow close together, and entwine, so they protect each other from the wind and the salt. The maritime forest is really important for the island. The roots of the trees keep the sand from eroding.”

  “So do you know the names of a bunch of trees?”

  “Let’s see. Yaupon. Live oak. Palmetto. Red cedar. Loblolly pine.”

  “Cool! I’d love to spend more time here. It’s great you get to come here when your mom is doing research.”

  “Yeah. Where’s your sister? Isn’t her name Diana?” he asked.

  I shrugged. “Stepsister. I don’t know. Our parents went to play golf, and she was supposed to come out on the beach with me, but she hasn’t shown up.”

  “Where do you think she is?”

  “I think she might have gone to look for the wild horses back behind the dunes. You know, where the sand paths wind through the forest and marshland. I feel like I should go look for her. ”

  “We could take the ATV and go look for her.”

  “Um …” I stared at him. I’d never ridden an ATV. Daddy and Lynn probably wouldn’t like it. But it would be a good way to look for her. Much faster than walking.

  “I’m a fantastic driver.”

  Wow! Maybe Diana was right about him being arrogant.

  “Really?” I ignored the thought that Daddy and Lynn would probably say no to riding the ATV if I asked them. I could just do it, and if they got mad, I’d tell them I was looking for Diana. Hopefully I’d find Diana before they got back, and they’d never know. And I was tired of being scared of everything. I wanted to hang out with Cody. “Well, if you don’t go too fast …” I stood up, wiping sand off my hands.

  “Great!” He rose to his feet and started up the beach. I went to follow him, but he waved me back. “No, wait here, and I’ll bring the ATV down.” He ran toward the dunes, joyously twirling the towel above his head. I put my T-shirt and shorts on over my bathing suit and wished I hadn’t forgotten my flip-flops. I had no shoes to wear. I shoved my phone in the back pocket of my shorts. Minutes later I heard the roar of the motor, and Cody skidded up in a dust cloud, carrying helmets and goggles in his hand.

  “Put these on.”

  I slid the helmet on, tightening the chin strap; then he showed me how to pull the goggles over it. The helmet felt heavy and awkward at first, and right away my scalp got itchy and started to sweat. I pointed to the path that ran beside our house and his. “We probably need to go back that way. Yesterday the horses were grazing in the shade near the trees.”

  “I’ll take you along the beach a little first, just so you can see what it’s like.” With a broad smile, Cody slid forward and patted the seat behind him. “Climb on!”

  I threw my leg over the wide, black leather seat, hot under the sun. I had thought I could sit on the back of the seat without holding on to him, but right away I realized I’d have to put my arms around his waist. He must have changed his shirt while picking up the ATV, becau
se it was dry and clean. At first I felt modest and tried not to lean against him, but the minute we took off, with an exploding blast of the engine, my head jerked back and I locked my arms around him and plastered myself against his back, hanging on for dear life.

  The wind screamed by, whipping my hair out behind me, and the engine roared in my ears, making them feel numb. Sand churned up by the front wheels pelted my feet and calves, and the wind buffeted our T-shirts, making them cling to us in front and billow out in back. “Whoaaeeee!” It escaped from inside me, bubbling up. I couldn’t help it. The four-wheeler ate up the sand. Laughing, Cody drove down by the edge of the water and sprayed me, sending rainbows of water arcing behind us on both sides. I screamed, but I was laughing at the same time.

  He veered away from the water.

  The sky spread above us, brilliant and crisp, and the sand and water flashed by with amazing brightness on either side. I held my breath and grasped Cody’s waist so tight I wondered if he could feel my heart pounding inside my chest. Thinking about that, I got kind of embarrassed, and goose bumps rose on my arms in spite of the heat.

  “Watch this!” he yelled back at me as he veered farther away from the water and crossed onto the drier, more mounded sand. He drove the four-wheeler up one side of a dune, cresting the top, and then we were airborne! We flew a foot off the ground on the way down the other side, landing with a jolt and surging forward. I was so scared my cheeks were shaking. I buried my face in his shoulder.

  Then he veered even farther from the flat sand and headed inland, along the path past our houses, past the dunes, and into the shadowed darkness of the maritime forest.

  9

  DIANA

  A loud engine and then brakes sounded behind me, and a woman yelled, “Stop! You’re breaking the law!”