At the sound of the words, Firecracker startled, tossing his beautiful head, and trotted away. After all the time I had spent getting close to him!
I whirled. Behind me, standing beside a small white SUV, was a wiry, tanned woman with gray hair in a bun, wearing khakis and hiking boots. And she looked mad.
“What?” I said, letting my empty hand drop to my side. Firecracker had already eaten the apple as well as all the carrots I’d brought.
“We have a county ordinance that says it’s against the law to feed the wild horses,” the woman said. “Haven’t you seen the signs?”
“No,” I said. Maybe there had been some signs, but I hadn’t stopped to read them.
“They’re only about eight feet tall,” said the woman, raising her eyebrows meaningfully. “It’s against the law to attempt to feed, ride, or come closer than fifty feet to any of our wild horses. Doing any of those things can get you arrested.”
“Arrested?” I said, feeling the muscles in my chest tightening.
“Absolutely. The horses have their own special diet in the wild. They can get colic and possibly die if they eat things like carrots and apples like domestic horses,” said the woman. “How would you feel if you knew that a horse had gotten colic and died from something you fed him? And you shouldn’t get close to them because even though the horses see lots of people and aren’t afraid of them, they’re not tame, they’re wild. They can kick or bite you.”
“Firecracker wouldn’t kick or bite me. I love horses, and I’ve been around them a lot. I’ve been riding and helping out at a barn for almost two years.”
“Horses kick and bite even the most experienced trainers,” said the woman with a patient smile.
I glared at her. “Who are you, anyway?”
“I’m Sally. I’ve been volunteering for the wild horse organization for many years. I check on them and make sure they’re doing okay.”
“I can see how you would need that ordinance for regular people, but I love the horses. I’m learning about horse whispering. I try to read their minds. I try to act like a horse. That ordinance shouldn’t apply to someone like me.”
“The ordinance applies to everyone,” Sally said, almost gently.
I looked at the ground, searching for a change of subject. “While I was watching the herd, I saw Firecracker and the black stallion get into a fight. I think Firecracker has a bite on his neck.”
“Oh, really?” Sally walked over closer to Firecracker to get a look at him. He was grazing now, more than fifty yards away, with the wound facing away from us. “So you named the sorrel stallion Firecracker?” Sally said. She looked at me steadily for a minute.
I was kind of embarrassed. “Yeah.”
“You really care about the horses, don’t you?” she said.
“Yes. Will Firecracker be okay?”
“I don’t know. Stallions will fight. I’d been watching the black stallion and the sorrel and thinking it might happen soon.”
“I think that’s what just happened. The black stallion kicked him out. What will happen to him?”
“We’ll see if the sorrel can find another harem, or maybe he’ll join the herd of bachelor stallions.”
“Bachelor stallions?”
“The stallions that are either too young or too old to have their own harems. Another possibility is that we’ll have someone adopt him. We try not to interfere unless one of the stallions is so badly injured he can’t take care of himself.”
“How badly is Firecracker injured?”
“I’ll have to keep an eye on him and see. But thanks for letting me know what you saw.” Sally nodded to show her gratitude.
“So, are you going to have someone arrest me?” I demanded.
Sally looked at me steadily for a minute. “I’m just going to give you a warning this time, but make sure you remember how serious this is. And maybe, since you’re such a horse lover, you can do your part to help out while you’re here.”
“What do you mean?” I said.
“If you see anyone getting too close, or trying to feed or ride the wild horses, or being cruel to the horses in any way, let me know.” She took a business card from her pocket and handed it to me. “The number for the Wild Horse Fund is on that card. Call and let us know what you’ve seen. And if you see that the sorrel seems to be so badly injured that he can’t take care of himself, let them know about that too. These horses have it tough. They’re losing their habitat, they’re being shot at and poisoned. The mothers and foals especially are stressed by all the people around them. Some of the horses have been hit by cars and other vehicles. These horses are truly beleaguered. Imagine how you’d feel if you were losing your home. They need all the help they can get.”
I looked at her card, then carefully slid it into the tiny pocket of my shorts. “Deal.”
Sally sauntered over to watch Firecracker. “What’s your name, young lady?”
“Diana.”
“Are you staying around here?” she asked.
“A couple of miles away. I ran here.”
“Do your parents know you’re out here?”
“No.”
“Be careful about staying out in the sun too long. You shouldn’t be running without water.”
“I hate to leave Firecracker.” I focused on the way his long tail swished as he grazed. “I feel so sorry for him, getting kicked out. He’s all alone. Will he try to go back?”
“Maybe.”
“But the black stallion won’t let him come back?”
“Probably not. Nature is tough,” Sally said. “Animals have to adjust to survive. He’ll have to find another harem, somehow.”
“How many horses are in the whole herd?” I asked.
“About a hundred and ten.”
She explained that most people believe the horses came back in the early 1500s, when the Spanish conquistadores came to colonize the Outer Banks. “When their ships arrived in shallow water, sailors would sometimes push the livestock overboard and make them swim ashore,” Sally said. “Sometimes ships would get stuck in the shallow water and break apart, and the horses swam ashore to safety. Other times, when the Spanish settlers died or the colony failed, they were unable to care for their livestock, and the horses began to forage for themselves and gradually became wild. By the 1800s there were hundreds of wild horses roaming the banks, and twice a year residents would round them up and pen and brand them. Many people tamed the horses to work on the farms or to help haul fishing nets. At one time there were thousands of wild mustangs on the Outer Banks. But a few years ago, when the Wild Horse Fund moved the horses up to Carova, there were only about sixty.”
“Wow. What happened to them all?”
“Well, a lot of them were penned and tamed. In just the past decade, more than twenty of the mustangs have been shot.”
“Shot?” I couldn’t believe it. Who in the world would shoot a horse?
Sally nodded. “And as more people have begun to come here to live and vacation, sometimes they hit them and drive away without even reporting it.”
“I can’t believe someone would do that,” I said.
Sally nodded again. “Now the Wild Horse Fund offers rewards to people who witness cruelty to the horses and report it so that those involved can be charged with crimes. We’re also working on getting a law passed to protect the wild horses. They’re a important legacy of the Outer Banks. For one thing, we need to keep people away from them.”
What she meant was, other people. Not people like me.
“We are trying to grow the herd to prevent inbreeding. When they inbreed, they become more susceptible to disease and weakness.
“I saw a new foal in the harem with the black stallion. I named her Dark Angel.”
“Yes, she’s only a week old. This is foaling season, and we’re excited because we’ve got a couple more foals coming along soon. During foaling season we have to be very careful that the mares and foals aren’t stressed by the presence of too many people. The
foals need time to nurse and bond with their mothers.”
On the sandy road behind us, we saw a small chestnut stallion accompanied by a sorrel mare and a foal. As the stallion lowered his head to herd his family down the road, a bulldozer pulled out of a cul-de-sac, blocking the family’s progress. The mare, confused, stopped, even though the stallion continued to try to herd her toward the bulldozer. Finally all three horses stopped, and the stallion, reconsidering, began to herd them in the opposite direction. Their heads hung low in the heat, their long manes stringy and matted with sweat.
“This is the story of their life,” Sally said.
“Do they have to remove horses from the herd very often?” I asked.
“Not too long ago, a mare had to be taken out of the herd because of a trauma wound to her neck. After she got well, she wasn’t able to return to the herd because she had been exposed to the diseases of domestic horses.” Sally hesitated, then went on. “Sometimes the horses become too used to people. One of our horses a few years ago knocked a woman down trying to get her to feed him. So the herd manager had to remove him from the herd.”
“And they can never go back?”
“No.”
A lump formed in my throat, and tears pricked my eyes. It sounded so final. Why was nature so cruel?
“When they remove the horses from the herd, what do they do with them?”
“They adopt them out. The fund works with a couple of experienced horse trainers in particular to gentle the horses before they’re adopted. We make a point of finding really good homes for these guys. So, I hope that sorrel can stay in the wild. But if he can’t, we’ll make sure he has a good home. I’ve got to be going.” Sally climbed back into her SUV. “But if you see that the sorrel is looking worse—or if anyone is being cruel to the horses—get in touch.”
“I will.”
“Take care, Diana.”
I waved as she pulled away.
I walked home. The broad sky arched over me, a pale, washed-out blue with a few tattered wisps of clouds. The water had looked choppy and green yesterday, but today it was calmer, and an iridescent shade of blue.
Just beyond the dunes, I saw the triangular window of our gray house. I recognized Stephanie’s beach towel hanging over the armrest of a chair sitting on the beach. But I didn’t see her anywhere.
I headed inside. I drank a big glass of milk and ate a peanut butter sandwich. I had a lot to think about. I hadn’t admitted to Sally that Firecracker had already eaten several carrots and an apple that I had fed him. If what Sally said was true, what I had fed Firecracker could make him sick, could give him colic.
I ran my hands over my face. If I had made Firecracker sick, I would never forgive myself. I made a promise to check on him tomorrow, and every day we were here, to make sure he was okay.
From the bottom of the stairs, I called for Stephanie. No answer. I went upstairs, and she wasn’t in the bedroom either. I headed back out onto the beach and saw her towel and book, abandoned on her beach chair. Her phone was gone, though.
Then I noticed tire tracks beside her chair.
I could not believe that she’d be out riding the ATV with Cody. She’d never get on an ATV! She was so scared of everything. But here were the tracks, and she was gone.
Slowly, at first, I started jogging along, following the ATV tracks. I was already tired from running before, and then walking, and right away I started getting these twinges in my right calf that sometimes meant I was about to get a cramp. The sting of a blister throbbed on my left heel from sand getting into my socks.
After about a half mile, the tracks led to a place where they went in a circle. Then they peeled off to the area behind the dunes. What had happened?
I kept following the tire tracks, over the dunes through the soft sand leading to the houses behind the dunes, and then down sandy paths farther away from the water and into the maritime forest. Because I was so tired, I stopped and walked through the forest for a while, listening to see if I could hear the sound of the ATV nearby.
This was probably hopeless. Cody and Stephanie were going much faster than I was, and I’d never catch up. I rounded a corner, and gnats swarmed my face.
I arrived at a fork where grass had grown over the path, and I couldn’t see the tire tracks anymore. Which way had they gone? I walked back and forth, but separating out the tracks I’d been following from other tracks was now impossible.
I thought I recognized where I was from yesterday. Then I heard a motor. It definitely sounded like an ATV. I stood to the side of the path, waiting, hoping, as it got louder and louder.
10
STEPHANIE
Cody and I came flying around the corner, past a huge live oak, with me holding on to him for dear life, and there was Diana. Her face was white and sweaty.
Cody put on the brake, causing me to slide more tightly against his back, and squealed to a stop beside her.
“Oh my gosh, there you are!” I said. “We’ve been looking for you.”
“I’ve been looking for you!” she said.
“You look awful. Are you okay?” Because she looked so wiped out, I decided not to mention the fact that she’d left without even telling me where she was going.
“Yeah, I’m fine,” she said. “Maybe a little weak from running so much and not eating much.”
“Get on, and we’ll head back,” said Cody, turning his head to indicate the back of the ATV.
“Is there room for all three of us?” Diana said.
“I’ll scoot up.” I moved closer to Cody, leaving a narrow strip of seat behind me. I was sitting up so close to him, I felt my face get hot. “Cody, can you scrunch up a little bit?”
“Not much.” He inched forward, I moved up again, and Diana climbed on behind me, wrapping her arms around my waist. Her skin felt cold and clammy against mine.
“Stephanie, I can’t believe you’re riding this thing!”
“I can’t either,” I said with a laugh. I was wedged between the two of them, with barely room to breathe. “I don’t think they’re built for three people.”
“They’re not,” Cody said. “Ready?”
“Go slow!” I said.
“I’ll try.” He put the ATV into gear and took off down a path to our right.
“Where are you going?” Diana yelled to Cody, leaning forward.
“Back to the beach,” he yelled.
“This isn’t the right way,” she shouted. “We have to go the other way, to the left. That’s the way I came in.”
“No, the path goes in a wide circle,” he shouted.
“This is wrong,” she mumbled furiously, just next to my ear. Her arms tightened around me.
The path we were on did seem to be heading deeper into the shadows of the forest. The twisted branches of the trees closed in more tightly around us, and a damp coolness seeped into the air. Pine needles covered the path, muffling the sound of the engine. My heart began to thump, and I broke out in a sweat. Maybe Diana was right. Maybe we were lost.
“Cody, are you sure you know where we’re going?” I asked.
Then suddenly the path opened up, and we saw, in the middle of nowhere, a line of small shops, a café, some outdoor restrooms painted in pastels, and a sandy playground with spotty clumps of grass. All completely deserted. Not a soul was anywhere to be seen.
“What is this place?” Cody said, slowing us to a crawl.
“It seems like a deserted town, or a movie set,” I said.
“Told you it was the wrong way,” Diana said with an impatient tone.
Cody turned off the motor. “Listen.” We heard the thundering sound of many hoofbeats in the sand, and also other engines in the distance. Gradually, the engines increased in volume, coming closer.
In a few seconds, a herd of horses we hadn’t seen before, white-eyed with manes and tails flying, raced into the open area from a path on the other side, their hooves pounding the sand, their necks dark with sweat beneath their manes. Cody h
it the foot brake and put one foot on the ground. As soon as the horses saw us, they veered off in a different direction, sending clouds of dust swirling.
“What’s going on?” Cody said.
My chest tightened.
Then we saw. Two guys on ATVs emerged from the woods on the path, their engines grinding at earsplitting volume, and the minute they spotted the horses, they turned and went after them.
“They’re chasing the horses!” Diana yelled.
As the riders flashed through the open area, we caught snatches of their laughter. They were both stocky and helmetless—the same two boys we’d seen yesterday, with the buzz cut and the curly, blond hair. They glanced at us as they drove by but didn’t acknowledge us at all, and soon we were looking at billows of their dust.
“Go after them! Make them stop!” Diana said.
Before I could tell them to let me off, Cody gave the ATV gas with a flick of his wrist. With a jerk that snapped my head back, we tore after them. I closed my eyes and tightened my hold on his waist, pressing my cheek against his back. Diana’s arms wrapped even more tightly around me. The ATV leaped forward, bumping over the dunes and picking up speed, and we closed the gap between us. My heart was beating so hard I could barely breathe. When our ATV was a few yards behind them, Diana yelled, “Stop chasing the horses!” But with the noise of the three vehicles, there was no way to hear.
The boys turned and glanced at us and then picked up their speed. They began to pull away, following the horses that had all raced out of sight to the left of a stand of live oaks, except two foals in the rear, struggling to keep up with their mothers.
Cody, with another flick of his wrist, upped our speed. “I’m going to cut them off,” he yelled back at me, and headed out to the right of the oaks.
I buried my face on his shoulder. As we curved around the trees, we spotted the horses on the other side, racing for a flat, marshy area just beyond us. Cody cut behind them and kept going straight, and in the next second, the other two boys emerged from the opposite side. They veered to our right to try to get by us and stay with the horses, but Cody stayed on target, aiming right at them.
Wild Horse Spring Page 6