We come up to it on a rolling bank and just sit there side to side. The horses are kind of moving in place and both Sun and me have to pat them calm. My back and shoulders are tight, hunched against the ice falling. Sun has his collar turned up. He’s taken his bandana and made it into sort of a pirate’s headcover. The bandana is soaking with ice and Sun’s hair isn’t any dryer.
We just are stunned with the pond. The sleet and rain sounds like sizzling as it hits the water in sheets. Birds, ducks and geese, keep landing and hugging the water’s edge in this grand necklace of white, and green-and-blue-shining mallards.
“Ain’t it something?” Sun says.
“For sure — man!” The honks and quacks rise and fall in a kind of sound rhythm.
“We can’t fool around,” Sun says, moving again.
“Can’t we wait it out?” I ask him. “It just might warm up and turn into rain.”
Sun says, “This stuff will just get worse. Come on.”
He turns Jeremiah and heads over to where the ridge is formed in clumps of height. The steepness is broken up into more or less levels where you can get a hold. I can tell that the first rounded rise is ice-coated good.
“Not too bad,” Sun calls, “if I can get this animal to get his hooves through. Once we make some mud. But if we wait,” Sun says, “it’s going to get tricky.”
“Looks bad enough already,” I tell him. And it does, with all the stuff falling on us and in our eyes. With all the riot of noise.
Another bunch of ducks hit the pond. “Man! Did you see that?”
Sun has Jeremiah halfway up the first clump, then works him back down again. That great horse cracking through the ice and making some tracks on the second try.
“Them birds ain’t even taking the time to land!” Which is what I’m seeing. Birds plopping down on the pond without wasting any time at all.
When it dawns on me.
“Sun!”
He is making his way up the rise another time. And turning, “Come on!”
But I’m looking up and seeing these birds falling out of the sleet. Falling through trees.
“Sun, they’re not landing at all.”
“Get on up here!” he yells. When this bird, like a streak of green and blue, hits Running Moon right across the neck.
I mean, it took all my strength of rigid muscles to hold her. “Get away! My lord … Sun?”
And I shake the bird off just as Running Moon bucks and knocks me crooked in the saddle. I get off fast, but I hold her. And the bird flopping all over the ground. Think it has hurt its wing. “Get away from me!” And Running Moon trying her best to drag me out of there along with her. “Sun, I need some help!”
I get back to her flank, thinking to mount up again.
“Watch her hooves!” Sun yells. Because I’m not seeing the bird flopping under, right between Moon’s hind-quarters. Running Moon kicks straight back and the dumb bird flops out of there.
Sun is starting back down and birds flopping everywhere in this real hard, freezing rain now. I get on Running Moon moving forward, ready to climb. It’s like all of a sudden I realize how serious it all is — that this stuff is getting worse, and fast.
When all these mallards fall right between Sun and me, but closer to Jeremiah’s path. That grand animal lunges to the side quicker than I’ve ever seen him move.
“Sun!” I scream out and all these birds on the pond make a giant commotion. Feeling this fear turning my stomach.
Just when a big white thing hits Sun’s head in a crashing thud. I swear, you could hear that hit like a muffled bomb. That bird hitting Sun and lifting up again like it was leaping out of the red of his bandana. The look of shock on Sun’s face.
One of his arms flung back, and then the other, as if he’d just taken a hard blow between his shoulder blades. Jeremiah, still in his sidestepping lunge; and Sun, out of the stirrups, falling in the same direction as the lunge. All in an awful flash before my eyes. When Jeremiah slips to his front knees and falls on his side, right on top of Sun hitting the ground.
Screaming, I’m seeing it all.
Sun’s head hitting, and the rest of him hitting the ground on his shoulder. Jeremiah like a black boulder rolling over, covering Sun.
Screaming.
The bird flopping in the pond. Jeremiah rising, black and fierce, heading straight for me.
Screaming.
He veers away past me. A great, swift brown, southward along the pond. And disappears in the forest of the gray icing.
Running Moon gives a supreme pull of her neck. The reins are out of my hands. I know I am panting like I can’t breathe. But I have sense enough to slide off out of the way. Moon moves and is gone, melting into the sleet, following Jeremiah.
This is no such thing. It can’t be for real. I’m here, making sounds of screams through the ice fall. Until I can only swallow and grunt, trying to make sense. It has happened so fast. I’ve got to do something.
Sun is moving.
Suddenly he lifts one arm straight out. Trying to lift himself on his knees and off the other arm he is lying on. Turning, he looks right through me and crashes over on his face. Sliding an inch or two on the ice and mud, face down.
He doesn’t move again.
It’s like I’m frozen in one place. “Sun.” Whispering.
His legs are spraddled uphill. One arm still twisted under him.
The worst of all feeling. Cold and sickening. My brother is down. What am I going to do? All alone here.
“Help!” Sounding trapped and useless through the freeze. Birds still flopping and awful noises from the pond.
Sun is down. Some way I make myself go on over to him. Kneel down. There’s mud all over him. I get close to his head. “Sun!”
His breath is so ragged. His eyes are half open. They close and half open again. Like maybe somebody tries to wake him when he is deep tired and he can’t come out of it.
They say in an accident, best not to move the person.
I can’t believe this.
“The dumb birds. Jeremiah never would’ve lost his balance!” But it was the ice caused him to slip.
Think what to do!
It’s moving and doing. It seems like forever happening only in a few minutes. He’s hurt, so you’ve got to do it. He won’t wake up, you’ve got to do everything.
And take off that wet bandana. I put my hat down over his head. Easy. Don’t move him, just put the hat down low to cover. I tie the soaking bandana over my hair. Not even a blanket. He’ll maybe freeze out here. Lord.
“Help!”
But nothing and no one. I have to do it before he freezes.
Taking off my gloves. I clap as hard as I can. Blowing into my hands and clapping until my hands hurt. I know the animals are nearby. Clapping until my hands sting and ache. Breathing heavy mist and clapping.
Until Running Moon parts from grayness and comes moving over to me.
“Oh, what a beauty you are!”
A slick of ice like some armor over the saddle and down her sides. Her tail hair is ice-stiff. Jeremiah looms black at a distance.
“You scare me so!” Whisper it. Don’t want to run him off. No use thinking of getting Sun up on him.
But I get Running Moon by the reins and flake the ice off the saddle. Put my gloves back on and flake it away some more. I mount up.
“We can try it,” I tell her. “Hur’m up, let’s make it!”
I take one last look as we pass Sun so still. And I lead Running Moon upriver, westward. I know horses have the best of balance, but I never would of thought such a small upward trend of land could be so scary. But I know to be careful with Moon. And I know we can make it as long as we don’t have to climb steep.
Yet I hate having that grand character to my back. I know he is traveling with us, keeping his distance. Jeremiah, so big and grand, terrifies me without Sun to hold him.
Sun is down. My brother. Arilla, you got to hurry. But how can I with all the slick?
How much time is gone? Ten minutes? Twenty minutes? He’s got warm boots; his warm jacket. Gloves. Maybe he’ll wake up. But better he doesn’t move if he’s hurt real bad. Oh, don’t think that. Sun is so down. And that awful great black horse to follow me. Arilla, Sun. Down.
Away from the pond, there is near-perfect quiet in the freeze falling. There’s no high wind now. The trees are black and still, iced over and shining. My reins are coated good. The bridle iced. All over me, every part that isn’t moving every second is coated. I can feel the stuff in my nose thicken, so I breathe through the mouth. My hands are cold but not too frozen yet.
Into a dismal quiet. All alone and walking with just two horses. It will take us forever walking like this. Let’s see to trot a little. Horses have such balance; even knowing that, I am scared to death! Force trotting easy and steady. Running Moon has to be talked gently and coaxed. The grand horse is coming on behind us. I steel myself and look around, ever so slow. He’s some five yards back. Following his lady-friend. And maybe following me, too, because I am a familiar scent as well. I don’t like it, though, with his fierce eyes and nostrils snorting smoke. He’s a fire horse, a sun horse. For sure. I never look back again. But pick our way sure and careful through the blinding storm.
And a great, long time of silence so alone. Past where we stopped for coffee. How long it’s been since Sun fell? Don’t think it’s forever and don’t quit.
We are walking again. Forcing, coaxing Moon to go on. Now she is so cold and skittish. There is strong danger now, where we walk on nothing but the straightest slick ever.
Walking the flat stones of the Little Egypt, which is better than before because it is bumpy. Seconds fall into strings of minutes. We are in one place and then to the next place. Soon we are where the river ends to stream underground. A wide, low bank with grasses.
“Okay now. You can take it easy in the grass.” Running Moon seems to know. The grass is long and the ice crunches and mushes up. Grass gathering under her hooves, and so easier, and not such a risk to fall.
The forest trees space apart. There is silence in a near-twilight, all is so misty. I get it in my head we’re lost. But I know better. I know we’ll soon be all right if I just keep my head and hold Moon steady. I feel better when I moan with the effort. A little dizzy-feeling, from being so deep tired and so frightened.
So all alone, I get it in my head the great horse is right on Running Moon. And I get it in my head … someone. Behind me. Someone’s riding Jeremiah.
A chill of spasms all over me. Making me tighten my knees. Moon thinks to trot awful fast. But I pat her down and we go slow and careful, through the ice falling.
I get it in my head we’ll never ever get out of this. Oh, but I will. I will get help for Sun after this long time it takes. It was an accident he had. I thought it was going to be me for so long. I never would have dreamed it’d be my brother.
Watch her hooves! That’s what Sun told me when the bird flopped under Running Moon. Oh, there must have been a hundred birds out there, wings all ice-coated, but I don’t see any now.
Sun tried to save me from the hooves. So how could he ever want me dead? Did I really make it all up thinking he never cared for me? Is it all a lie? I’m going to get paid back in these woods, too.
Oh, there’s somebody riding Jeremiah and there are things all around, I can feel them. Who’s there? I’m so awful scared — get me out of here!
I can’t stand it. So I dismount and lead Running Moon for a ways, until I can dare look around at Jeremiah. It takes such a long time to get up the nerve. I tie Moon’s reins to a bush. We are almost there, anyway. You can see the top of the Skateland above us, over to the right. I’ll have to go around to the left, following the land-curve to get up there. And sudden, like a breeze, I tune in on the skating. It just makes me feel so good all over.
I turn around. Jeremiah is there, big and real. Never have I ever tied his reins. He knows me. I’m the one always with Sun. There’s no need to be scared. There’s no one riding him. How I make up things! Jeremiah knows my scent. It’s just that I’ve never led him before. Sun always leads.
I go up to him easy, the way Sun always does and like I’ve been doing it forever. Jeremiah backs up. Above me, big enough to trample me into nothing. I force myself forward and take the reins ever so lightly. Next, to lead him so careful over to Running Moon. Tie him there next to her so their heads can nuzzle. So long as they’re together, they’ll be all right in the shelter of the tall trees.
“I’ll be back!” It comes to me that I still have to get them stabled way over in the barn of Trebiens! We pay charges every month for the right to stable, and for salt, water and hay.
Get going! I don’t take the long way around. I take the hillside going up in front of me. I can slip, but if I dig out holes with my boot heel. Find a stick and pound holes in. I can climb with this stick that is too short. I can do it, even when I slip down and get myself muddy. And the ice stuff still coming down.
It’s warmer again up here. The stuff freeze-falling is slacked off. The weather won’t know what it is or what it’s doing. And in no time I’ve made the hill. Dragging myself on, breathing to burst my lungs. If you think tired, you will be tired. The Skateland is growing bigger and bigger in the slowest of ways. Through those trees where I hid that night when my luck ran out at the rink. On past the window where I jumped. Must be the one, and from that high! How long ago it was from now!
On around and up the steps. Going in to where it is so dark coming in out of the daytime. Just a group of senior citizens, like a club of them, going around and around. They must’ve got themselves caught and maybe decided to spend the day. Some few of them are back on the side benches talking.
I come in all muddy and try to tiptoe so as not to make a lot of tracks. Taking off my gloves, and head for the cashier.
“Need some change for the phone,” I tell her. “We had an accident. My brother is hurt.” Sounded shaky, but getting it out. I won’t cry.
“Oh!” she says. And quick, giving me change for the only piece of cash I have fished out of my corduroys. Fifty cents.
“Must be awful out there,” she says. “We been hearing the sirens all down the highway for the last hour. Jake? Jake!” She calls for the manager. After a second he comes out from the skate rental.
“This child’s been in an accident,” she tells him.
“Out on the pike?” he says.
“Her brother’s hurt,” she says, before I can say a thing. “Did the car overturn?”
Both of them staring at me. “No.”
“I’ll call the police,” Jake says. “How far’s it at?”
I’m shaking all over and the woman comes out of her cage. She puts her arm around me to take me over to sit down.
“Where’d you say it was at?” Jake is getting the police, and that just scares me to death.
“It wasn’t a car,” I manage to say. “We went riding our horses down by the pond. These birds — a whole lot of birds came falling out of the storm and everything is so all slick …”
“Well, for heaven … I saw them ducks go over!” the cashier says.
“And my brother’s horse is spooked and my brother got hit and falls and Jeremiah, the horse, falls on him.”
I sit there and hold my head. “I have to call my mom!” Trying to stop the shivering shakes.
Jake is talking on the phone and telling the cops what he heard me say. He comes back over after hanging up. “They’re busy,” he says, “but they got it and’ll contact emergency. They say they got fender-benders clear to the next county.”
“I got to call my mom.”
“You tell me the number and I’ll get it for you, honey,” the lady says.
But I’d rather get it myself. They stand and look at me getting up like a senior citizen myself. Getting oozing mud all over their hardwood. I get over to the skate rental and they say it’s all right for me to use their house phone.
“Go on ah
ead,” Jake says. “Call your mom. You sure you’re all right?”
He is this guy I’ve seen before in the secret nighttime. But he don’t recognize me at all. I nod at him and call Mom.
He has to talk at me in the middle of my dialing. “You walk all the way back from the pond? Where’s the horses?” Just real nosey and I get the number wrong.
“I ride back part the way,” I tell him. “Left the horses down over there, where you come up to here.”
“Must be three or four miles!” the woman says.
“Your brother still out there?”
“Yes.” Where’s he think Sun’s gonna go?
“Is he bad?”
“He wasn’t moving.” I dial some more and get a dial tone. Mom picks it up at the studio on the fourth ring.
“Mom, it’s Moon. I mean, it’s Moon.” I can’t get my name right.
“Arilla? Yes what is it?”
I start as fast as I can. The man Jake motions to take the phone to tell her, but I can do it.
“Jeremiah gets spooked from the ducks falling. And Sun falls and is hurt. The man here called for the police, but they are busy. Sun is still way down there and knocked cold, I think.” I don’t tell her his breathing is bad, like it will quit.
Mom says to stay where I am. She’ll get Dad. She says not to worry, she’ll take care of it; says to stay at the rink.
Mom letting me stay at the Skateland. I almost laugh. She hangs up quick.
“She says to wait here,” I tell them. “My dad will get some men and get my brother.”
“Well, the emergency is on its way,” Jake says.
They watch me go off to a bench by the rink. I really can’t sit up anymore. I slide on down on the bench. The lady comes with a little pillow for my head.
Arilla Sun Down Page 17