Sundancer

by Shelley Peterson

  Drawn by the confusion, Hannah’s students plus Lavinia, John, and Cliff all came running. Hannah put up the palm of her hand, signalling them to stop and stay where they were. They stood at the fence, shocked by what they were watching. Paul had his cellphone to his ear.

  Still running flat out, Sundancer rounded the far end of the paddock and made straight for Hannah. As he approached the fence, Hannah saw his eyes open. Seeing both Hannah and the group that had gathered behind her, the horse skidded to a halt. Bird kept going, over his head and through the air. She landed flat on her back.

  Sundancer was scared. He reared up and twisted, then raced off for the other side of the paddock, as far away as he could get.

  “Bird!” Hannah called. “Bird!” The girl lay still. Hannah ran fast, Hector following hard on her heels. Hannah knelt beside her in the warm grass. Bird’s colour was greying; not a good sign. Hannah tilted her niece’s chin up and probed her mouth to find her tongue. Bird had swallowed it. Hannah scooped it out of the back of the girl’s throat with her forefinger, and listened with extreme relief to the gurgle and gasp of Bird’s lungs filling with air. Hector whined in sympathy at Bird’s side.

  Paul caught up. “Don’t try to move her, Hannah. She may have damaged her neck or spine. The ambulance is on its way.”

  “Bird, honey. Are you awake? Can you say something?” Hannah crooned. “Open your eyes, Bird darling. Show me you’re conscious.”

  The girl lay silent, eyes closed, breathing shallowly.

  Hannah didn’t notice the horse until Hector growled. Sundancer had made his way back across the field. Now, he stood beside Bird and slowly lowered his head. He breathed into her nose. Hector growled again, but then backed off. Sundancer moved his lips over Bird’s face, trying to stimulate her into consciousness.

  I didn’t mean to hurt you. Bird girl. I don’t know what happened.

  Bird didn’t know where she was. Sweet horse breath warmed her face as her world turned around and around. She struggled to open her eyes and found that her stomach was queasy.

  “Sun … danc … er,” she said aloud. Her voice was raspy, unused. “Sun … dancer.” Then everything faded to black.

  5

  EVA

  I have everything I need here. A salt lick. Water. Hay. Grazing land.

  Bird floated above her white bed in the white room with white lights and people in white gowns. Nothing hurt as they twisted her limbs this way and that. Nothing bothered her as they moved her through big, hollow machines, and rolled her through bright rooms and down long halls. She felt nothing except a pleasant dislocation. She was out of time and place.

  She’d had a special glimpse into Sundancer’s mind. Fear. Flight. There was much more to see when he was ready to let her in.

  She floated above Sundancer as he stood in the dark field. He was alone. He was eating something he liked very much from a bucket.

  Sundancer, can you hear me?

  Bird. Are you dead?

  No. I’ll be fine.

  Good. I’m sorry. Come home.

  Bird smiled sleepily. They’d made a connection. It was a good start.

  HANNAH, PAUL, AND ALEC sat quietly in Bird’s room. She had heard them come in, had heard their whispered words as they wondered when she would open her eyes. She was feeling better now, but she wasn’t ready yet. It was nice to sit quietly in the dark, letting her thoughts wander their way through her head. But how exactly did she get here? Bird struggled to remember. Hannah had come with her in the ambulance, she remembered that. And there had been many strangers looking at her; feeling and moving parts of her around. She’d slept. At some point, she’d heard Stuart Gilmore’s voice, but maybe she had been dreaming. She’d slept again for a while. For how long, she didn’t know.

  Bird was flattered that Alec had come. Bird tried to focus. Alec. Where did he come from? He hadn’t been at the farm when Sundancer dropped her in the field. Dr. Daniels must have brought him from home. He must have wanted to come, or he wouldn’t be here. Bird felt a small thrill. But … maybe he didn’t want to be at home. The thrill in her chest subsided. She knew the situation. Alec’s mother had left a few years ago. At first, everyone had assumed that it was a typical divorce, but it was more than that. Mrs. Daniels had left more than her husband, she’d left her son as well. No one had seen or heard from her since. Bird knew exactly how Alec must feel. Why stay at home if there was no one there?

  The door to the room opened again, and this time Bird decided to look.

  “Bird!” Hannah jumped up from her seat to hug her niece before turning her attention to the doctor.

  “Mrs. Simms?”

  “No. I’m Hannah Bradley, Bird’s aunt. Alberta, that is. Simms.” The doctor looked puzzled. “Say that again?”

  “I’m sorry. I’m not very coherent.” Hannah held Bird’s hand tightly as she spoke. “Alberta Simms is my niece, and I’m her guardian. My name is Hannah Bradley.”

  He nodded, then smiled. “Pleased to meet you. I’m Dr. Jonathon Molesworth. May I speak in front of this gentleman?”

  “Yes. Sorry again. This is my friend, Paul Daniels.”

  “Good evening Mr. Daniels, Ms. Bradley, the good news is that Alberta has no fractures. We did all the tests, particularly for spine, neck, and skull. She has suffered a concussion, as you’re aware. But there might be a serious problem. Although she has shown signs of awareness, she’s not speaking.”

  “She doesn’t speak.”

  “Excuse me?”

  “Bird, or Alberta, hasn’t spoken since she was six years old. She spoke normally before that.”

  The doctor nodded, thinking it over. “Has she been diagnosed?”

  “Her family doctor believes she’s an elective mute.”

  “Well.” Dr. Molesworth looked intrigued. “You don’t run across that very often. If that’s the case, then she might be recovered enough to go home tonight. We can use the bed. You must keep a close eye on her, though, waking her every two to three hours.”

  “Of course.” Hannah sounded relieved. Bird looked around the room, catching Alec’s eye. He smiled and held up an envelope. He’d bought her a card. Bird tried to smile back.

  The doctor was still talking. “If she cannot fully waken at any time, or appears disoriented, you’ll bring her back here immediately and ask for me. I’m on call all night.”

  “Thank you, Dr. Molesworth. Very much.”

  Hannah reached down and ruffled Bird’s hair as the doctor left the room. “You gave us quite a fright, young lady. I don’t think I’ve ever been that scared before.”

  I’m sorry, Bird thought. But I’m not the one you should be worried about. Sundancer’s more scared than you or me.

  Soon, a nurse arrived to wheel Bird down to Paul’s car. Paul and Alec drove them home and helped Hannah get Bird to the door. “Thanks. I’m very grateful,” said Hannah, holding Bird by the waist to steady her.

  “My pleasure entirely,” said Paul. “We’re happy to be of assistance. I hope you feel better soon, Bird.”

  “Me, too,” mumbled Alec. He looked awkward.

  Bird smiled feebly and nodded. She needed her bed. “Call me if you need me, Hannah. Promise?”

  Hannah smiled wearily. “I promise. It’s good to have friends at times like this. Good night, folks.” They waved goodbye and drove away.

  Hector had slipped into the house when he thought no one was looking. Now he was curled up as small as possible on the dog bed in the kitchen. Bird pretended not to see and hoped that Hannah wouldn’t notice. Hector used to be an outside dog, but he was getting old, and Bird was happy to have him in the house.

  Hannah gently tucked Bird into bed. “I’ll be waking you every couple of hours, Bird. You’re going to hate me, but we have to do it. What signal do you want to make so I know you’re totally awake?” Bird sleepily placed her two thumbs on either side of her head and wiggled her fingers. She laughed silently, along with Hannah.

  “Well, you h
aven’t lost your sense of humour. Now get some sleep, and I’ll call your mother,” said Hannah as she turned off the bedside lamp and made her way to the door. “I spoke to her earlier and she’s worried sick.”

  Yeah, right, thought Bird.

  Bird waited until she heard Hannah pick up the phone in the next room. She turned her light back on and reached out to grab the card that Hannah had placed on the nightstand; Alec’s card. Bird opened it with shaky fingers. On the front there was a picture of a fully bandaged person in a hospital bed with both legs in traction and a thermometer sticking out of a gauze-wrapped head. The caption read, “The other guy.” Alec had drawn horse ears, a tail, and hooves into the picture, making the figure in the bed look like a bandaged horse. Bird smiled. Inside, Alec had written, “Next time, stay on. Get well quick, Alec.”

  Bird smiled broadly. She loved his sense of humour, and she was more than a little relieved that he wasn’t angry about the other day. He’d just made everything okay. Bird flicked off the lamp and put the card under her pillow. She would sleep on it. Maybe forever.

  Suddenly, light from the hall spilled into her room.

  Hector, what are you doing here? Didn’t the stairs hurt your legs? Hector looked up into Bird’s face and cocked his head. His ears stuck out straight on either side. I’m here to protect you, Bird girl.

  Thank you.

  I won’t give you a lecture, but I warned you.

  I know you did.

  That horse cares about you, girl. I learned that today.

  Thanks for telling me that, Hector.

  But be careful he doesn’t hurt you again. He won’t mean to, but he might. Sleep tight, girl.

  Now that you’re here, I will.

  Satisfied, the old yellow dog flopped down on the floor mat and slept.

  IT WAS ONE WEEK after the concussion, and Bird felt her old self again. She was dying to get on Sundancer, but Hannah had forbidden her from riding Sundancer, at least for the time being. Bird knew that Hannah was nervous, and that the numerous reports of Sundancer’s crazy behaviour were very much on her mind. Hannah had worked him every day for the past week on the lunge line, but she felt he wasn’t ready yet for a rider. Also, she’d told Bird that she wanted to get on him first, to try to figure him out. It was certainly true, Hannah always said, that you can’t read a horse until you’re on his back.

  Bird agreed, but she had a secret. And she’d keep it from Hannah until the time was right.

  SITTING AT THE KITCHEN table, Bird watched as Hannah put down the phone. Eva had called to say that she and Randy and Julia had taken an earlier flight. Instead of waiting for Hannah to pick them up, they’d rented a car and were on their way.

  So. It was really happening. Eva was coming to visit. Now. With another boyfriend.

  Bird shuddered. Over the years, Bird had seen many different sides of her mother, but the one that was the hardest to accept was the person Eva became when she was with a man. Better to just let things unfold, thought Bird, than to think about the visit too much. At least she’d be happy to see Julia.

  Hannah was just as upset as she was. She stood, arms folded across her chest, staring out the kitchen window. The tension was visible in the hunch of her shoulders. Bird hated to see her like this, especially about Eva. She wanted with all her heart to help. Bird went to Hannah and put her arms around her waist. Breathe deeply, Bird willed Hannah. Deeply and slowly. In … out … in … out.

  Hannah, pleasantly surprised, hugged the girl back. “Thank you, Bird. I feel better now.” Bird kept hugging her while Hannah continued, “Okay, Bird. How are we going to handle this? We haven’t met this Randy yet, so let’s give him a fair chance, okay?”

  Bird let go. That was a lot to ask. She’d never liked Eva’s boyfriends. Not one. Randy wasn’t likely to be any different. Tears sprang up in her eyes.

  Hannah bent down to wipe them away. “We’re in this together, Bird. We’ll do our best, and make them all feel welcome. Okay?”

  Bird made a fist and clenched her jaw. This wasn’t fair! None of it! Her mother shouldn’t be allowed to come and go as she pleased; to just show up and demand that everybody love her and whatever new man she’d dragged along. It wasn’t right and yet it was happening and there was nothing she could do about it. She punched at Hannah in utter frustration. There was no energy in it, and the punch fell short. Her fist relaxed.

  “It’s only three days, Bird. We can do it.”

  Easy for you to say, thought Bird. Eva’s your sister, not your mother.

  Hannah looked at her watch. “It’s two o’clock. They’ll be hereby three, I’d guess. And probably tired and jet lagged. We’ll let them unpack and have a cold drink, then do something for a few hours before dinner. Go for a drive around the area, show them the sights. Take a walk. A ride. Whatever they wish.” She looked at her watch again. A nervous habit, thought Bird. “Time to bathe and change into clean clothes.”

  Bird grimaced, then stuck out her tongue.

  “Bird.” The tone of Hannah’s voice told her not to argue. “I want your mother to see I’m taking good care of you.” Bird was not convinced. “Not dress-up clothes, just clean jeans will do. Now scoot, they’ll be here in less than an hour. Leave me some hot water.”

  Less than an hour, Bird thought. Time enough.

  Bird made for the stairs, then waited. She heard Hannah rummaging in the fridge, then in the cupboard. Soon, the sound of chopping echoed through the hall. Bird quickly snuck outside, across the yard, and into the field with Sundancer. She pulled the old bridle out of the upside-down pail where she kept it hidden. Bird had fashioned it from discarded bridle pieces with a forgotten snaffle bit. She gave a low whistle.

  Sundancer, get over here. We don’t have much time.

  Rule number one. Never hurry a horse. It upsets us.

  Are you upset?

  Not at all. Just thought I’d give you some free advice.

  Bird rolled her eyes. Stand still for the saddle, will you? Open your mouth for the bit. One minute while I fasten the buckles and slide up the keepers. Okay, I’m ready.

  What do you want to learn today?

  Dressage. I saw it on television. Do you know any moves?

  Do I know any moves? Does a horse like oats?

  So stop joking and get moving.

  Okay. Let’s skip. Here’s how we do it. Hold on.

  ON CUE, FIFTY MINUTES later, Hector barked. Bird was clean and dressed.

  “Bird, it’s them! Are you ready? Come on downstairs!” Hannah ran to the door. She opened it wide with a smile plastered on her face, ready for company. Ready for Eva.

  “What the heck are you playing at?” asked a startled Paul Daniels.

  Hannah’s smile vanished. “You say the nicest things,” she snapped. “No, really,” he persisted. “You scared me with that plastic smile. Who are you expecting?”

  “Eva and her daughter Julia, and Eva’s new boyfriend Randy.”

  Paul nodded and exhaled. “That explains it. Relax, Hannah. You don’t need to be anything but yourself.”

  “I’m not trying to be!”

  Sensing an argument brewing, Paul got down to business. “I’ve just been over at Owens. Sundancer’s ownership might not be easy to secure.”

  “No surprise there.”

  Bird sat on the stairs, out of sight, listening attentively to the conversation. She knew that Sundancer didn’t understand the human concept of ownership. He belonged to nobody. He would decide who had the right to ride him, and as long as he was fed and had shelter, he didn’t bother about what amount of money he was worth. But Bird cared a lot — she didn’t want anyone to have the right to come and take him away.

  “Owens’ manager called me to euthanize him,” Paul continued. “According to their books, he’s dead. So, if he’s dead he can’t be sold with or without papers, even for a dollar. Nobody sells a dead horse.”

  “I get that. And therefore they can’t legally transfer ownership.” Hann
ah considered this. “He’s a valuable horse … on paper.”

  Paul snorted in agreement. “Are you thinking insurance fraud? It wouldn’t surprise me.”

  “But you’re the vet they called. If he’s written off as dead in their books, wouldn’t you have had to sign a death certificate?”

  “Any vet will do. They know enough not to ask me to fiddle anything.”

  “I’d hope not. But you think someone else might?”

  “Let’s just say I’ve learned not to trust anybody in this business. The manager did say … Hannah, are you going to invite me in, or are we going to have this entire conversation in your doorway?”

  “Paul, my sister will be here any minute …”

  “And it would look bad if you were having a chat with your vet?”

  Hannah laughed at herself. “You’re right. Please come in.”

  Bird made herself as small as possible, hardly daring to breathe as the two adults passed the stairs to the living room. They sank into comfortable chairs and continued to talk.

  “You were saying something about the manager?”

  “Yes.” Paul nodded. “He thanked me for saving him the trouble of organizing the dead animal removal people. Plus the expense of the euthanal cocktail. But even so, he won’t draw up an owner-ship transfer or purchase agreement. The horse’s name was Prince Redwood, by the way.”

  Prince Redwood? Bird almost laughed. No way. She’d have to tease Sundancer about that.

  “So he can’t sell or give him to us, but is it fair to assume that he won’t claim him back, either? I mean, if a horse is dead …?”

  “He can’t be claimed back. That’s about it,” said Paul, stretching his legs out in front of him. “Does that satisfy you?”

  “Partially. I wouldn’t mind having it on paper.”

  “Right. And the wording would be, ‘We hereby agree not to reclaim a horse we previously stated is dead.’ Not likely.”

  “I see what you mean. I guess I have to go along with it.”