Horses' Night Out

by Sibley Miller

  “Do not!” Sirocco said with a grin. And before he had a chance to imagine Jeepers’ comforting fuzzy face, he pawed the air with his hoof.

  “Last one to the woods is a rotten apple!” he declared. “OnyourmarkgetsetGO!”

  He zipped toward the forest.

  “Hey!” Sumatra neighed after him. “No fair getting a head start!”

  “Well, you better get moving then,” Sirocco yelled over his shoulder with a laugh.

  The three fillies flapped their wings and began flying after him.

  Still laughing, Sirocco flew with all his might. Racing with his friends was just like their usual daytime fun! Sirocco almost forgot that they were doing it at night, surrounded by black sky instead of blue.

  That is, he almost forgot until he dove into the forest!

  The moment Sirocco ducked between the trees, the blackness got blacker.

  The shadows got more shadowy.

  And the chilly, clammy air got chillier and clammier!

  But all that was nothing compared with the horrible sounds that met Sirocco’s ears.

  The noise was deafening!

  CHAPTER 3

  A Little Night Music

  A moment after Sirocco arrived in the horribly noisy forest, Kona, Brisa, and Sumatra joined him.

  “Wow!” Sumatra yelled excitedly. “What is all this racket?”

  Sirocco spun around in the air, feeling dizzy and confused.

  But not scared, he insisted to himself. It’s just a little noise, that’s all. Just some whirring.

  And buzzing.

  And chirping!

  And HOOTING!

  And there, off in the distance, did Sirocco detect a mean growl? He clenched his teeth to keep from whinnying in fright. Meanwhile, Kona spoke loudly over the noise.

  “Listen to that!” she said with wonder. “In the daytime, the forest just sounds like rustling leaves.”

  “And a babbling creek,” Sumatra agreed.

  “And the chirping of cute little birds,” Brisa added, looking around. “I wonder where all these neat noises are coming from.”

  “Yeah,” Sirocco said nervously. “Neat noises! That’s just what I was thinking.”

  Hoo-hoo-HOOT!

  “Ooh,” Sumatra cried. “I think I know where that sound came from! Look!”

  She pointed with her nose up into the dark shadows of the treetops. At first, Sirocco didn’t see anything. Then, he spotted a flutter of gray-brown feathers that were swoop, swoop, swooping through the air.

  It was an owl! An owl with a sharp, curved beak! And giant, yellow, unblinking eyes! And that loud, horrible—

  HOOT!

  “Aaaah!” Sirocco cried.

  “I know!” Sumatra said, looking at Sirocco with gleaming eyes. “It is an amazing sound, isn’t it?”

  Sirocco blinked at her.

  “Amazing?!” Sirocco sputtered. “More like terrify—”

  But before he could finish his sentence, he noticed that Kona and Brisa were looking at him with the same bright eyes as Sumatra. They weren’t terrified by the horrible hooting.

  So, Sirocco decided, neither was he.

  “Terrific,” he corrected himself quickly. “That’s what I’d call that hoot! In fact, I bet I can hoot, too!”

  Sirocco threw back his head.

  “Hoo-hoo-hooooooot!” he brayed.

  The three fillies burst out laughing.

  “That hoot sounds like a horse with a head cold to me,” Sumatra said.

  Trembling, Sirocco glanced back up into the treetops. Clearly, the owl didn’t think any more of the colt’s hoot than Sumatra did. The bird gave Sirocco a disdainful glare before turning feathery tail and flying deeper into the woods.

  “Ha,” Sirocco laughed weakly. But it was hard to pretend he was enjoying himself. He was too busy looking around for the next scary sound to come the Wind Dancers’ way.

  “Hey,” he finally suggested to his friends, trying to sound chipper. “Why don’t we go rest on a tree branch for a minute?”

  Still giggling, the fillies agreed, and they followed Sirocco to a nearby branch. As soon as they rested, though, yet another new sound grew close.

  But for once, it wasn’t scary!

  In fact, it was a pretty, lilting chirp.

  And the horses only had to look around the tree where they were resting to see where the sound was coming from. Perched all over the tree’s branches were lots of tiny crickets! The insects were rubbing their scratchy little wings together. With each scrape, the crickets made a sweet chirp.

  “Now there’s a sound I can really get behind!” Sirocco said to the fillies.

  “Oh, please,” Sumatra scoffed. “There’s no way that your horsey voice can imitate a cricket’s chirp.”

  “Who said I was going to use my voice?” Sirocco said, fluttering off of the tree branch with a laugh. Perhaps because the crickets’ song was so pretty (or maybe because the crickets were so harmlessly small), Sirocco was feeling happy—and brave—for the first time since arriving in the woods.

  He flew a few feet away from the tree branch, then turned to face the fillies.

  “Chirping looks simple enough,” he said, glancing again at the tree crickets sawing away with their wings. “You just rub your wings together, like so!”

  Sirocco pressed his yellow-gold wings together and rubbed them up and down.

  But instead of beautiful, chirpy music, his wings just made a soft, rustling sound. Sirocco was barely able to hear it over the din of the forest. He cocked his ears and listened harder.

  He listened so hard, in fact, that he didn’t realize something.

  When he began vigorously rubbing his wings together, he stopped flapping them. And that meant—

  “Sirocco!” Sumatra neighed. “You’re falling!”

  But Sirocco couldn’t see the ground through the pitch-black darkness. He had no idea how far away—or how close—he was to crashing to the forest floor!

  CHAPTER 4

  Star Light, Star Bright?

  Neeeeeiggh—OOF!

  Sirocco had landed.

  But instead of crashing to the earth with a splat, he’d hit a body of water with a splash.

  “Where am I?” Sirocco squeaked. He thrashed around in the water in fear.

  “Have I broken my nose? What about my ears? Or my tail! I bet I’ve broken my tail!”

  It took a few more moments of panicked splashing about for Sirocco to realize that he was actually—fine.

  He was sitting in a mud puddle.

  He was wet, shivering, and embarrassed.

  But he was fine.

  Until, of course, he wasn’t. And that moment came when Sirocco felt something cold and slimy brush against his leg.

  “Aaaah!” Sirocco neighed. “Don’t tell me I survived that fall just to be swallowed up by a swamp creature!”

  Suddenly, two bulgy eyes rose out of the puddle—and looked right at Sirocco! “Peep, peep.”

  “What are you?” Sirocco shrieked. “Some sort of puddle monster?”

  “I’m a peeper. A spring peeper, to be exact,” said the bug-eyed creature.

  The eyes rose further out of the water, revealing the slick head and body of a—

  “Frog!” Sirocco cried. “You’re a frog!”

  “Yup,” the peeper said. “Peep, peep.”

  For the first time since the night-time adventure had begun, Sirocco stopped feeling shivery and shaky.

  “I love frogs,” he told Peeper. “I even have a froggy sleep buddy. His name is Jeepers.”

  “I like the name,” the frog said. “It rhymes with peepers.”

  His bulgy eyes looked this way and that. “So where is this Jeepers?”

  Sirocco felt suddenly sad.

  “At home,” he murmured.

  Just then, what seemed like a hundred pairs of bulgy eyes rose out of the puddle!

  “Peep, peep, peep!” they croaked all together.

  “Oh, wow!” Sirocco sa
id, gazing at the froggy crowd. “Now I really miss Jeepers.”

  Suddenly, Kona’s voice rang out from up above.

  “Sirocco?” she called. “We can’t see you down there. Are you okay?”

  “I’m fine,” Sirocco called up to his friends. His voice sounded thin and raspy. “I landed in a mud puddle.”

  Relieved, his filly friends answered with a chorus of laughs.

  “What’s wrong with me?” he whispered to his new peeper friend. “I’m on an adventure. But I’m not acting so adventurous!”

  The frog shrugged.

  “Don’t ask me about adventure,” he answered. “I never leave my puddle. My idea of a good time is a nice mud-mask facial and a mouthful of flies.”

  “Ooh,” Sirocco said with a shudder. “I could never stay in one place my whole life. I was born to fly!”

  “Oh, really,” the frog said teasingly. “Seems to me you’re a stick-in-the-mud like me. That’s not exactly flying, is it?”

  Sirocco stared at the frog. He felt his clenched mouth slowly widen into a grin.

  “You know what?” Sirocco said. He stood up in the puddle and shook the mud off his wings. “You’re right! It’s time to stop moping and start adventuring!”

  “Well, fly away, then,” the peeper said. “Have fun, peep, peep.”

  “Thanks, Mr. Peeper,” Sirocco said. He puffed out his chest. Even if he didn’t have the real Jeepers with him, the peeper had given him a burst of bravery!

  Sirocco flew up to rejoin his friends. As he arrived back at the cricket tree, Brisa joyfully turned to the toy horse dangling from one of her magic jewels.

  “See, Brisina,” she said to the doll, “Sirocco’s just fine.”

  Brisa looked at Sirocco with her beautiful big eyes.

  “You had Brisina scared to death!” she said to the colt.

  “Scared!” Sirocco scoffed. “That’s silly!”

  “I know, that’s what I told her,” Brisa said. “First, being scared gives you scrunched-up lines around the eyes, which are not pretty. Second, why should you be scared just because everything’s so different at night?”

  “Right!” Sirocco declared. “Anyway, I’m not scared.” He tried to ignore the fact that his shivers had suddenly returned.

  He was so shivery that he didn’t see the fillies glance at each other.

  “Well,” Sumatra said carefully, “I’m glad you’re not scared, Sirocco. After all, there’s nothing scary about cool, damp night air.”

  “Right,” Sirocco repeated. But now, his voice sounded weak again.

  “And I like the strange shapes you see in the tree branches,” Kona said happily.

  “And don’t forget the night music,” Brisa added. “It’s so tuneful.”

  Sirocco’s heart was again beating fast. Any happiness he’d gotten from the Jeepers-like peepers had fizzled. He was quaking!

  Is it because they all brought their sleep buddies that Brisa, Sumatra, and Kona are having such fun out here in the dark? he wondered. Or is it because they’re braver than me? Am I just one big scaredy-horse!?

  The thought made Sirocco shudder. He was a magical, flying colt. An adventurer. A Wind Dancer! The last thing he wanted to be was a scaredy-horse. Especially if the fillies weren’t afraid.

  Jeepers would be disappointed in me if he was here, Sirocco thought sadly. Almost as disappointed as I am with myself.

  He hung his head—which was why he didn’t see Kona, Sumatra, and Brisa exchange another quick glance.

  “Hey, speaking of strange shapes,” Sumatra said thoughtfully, “I miss the moon shadows of the meadow. What do you say we leave the forest and go back there?”

  “Ooh, yes,” Brisa agreed with a wink at Sumatra. “It’s so nice and sparkly there, with the stars overhead and all.”

  “And the nice, quiet dandelions below,” Kona added.

  “And absolutely no ghosts,” Sumatra added with a giggle.

  Sirocco cocked his head.

  “Okay, fillies, if you say so!” he said.

  It was such a good idea that suddenly Sirocco felt much better.

  “And you know what?” he added happily. “I’ll lead the way!”

  Sirocco reared back in the air, and began to fly as fast as he could toward the dandelion meadow. Kona, Sumatra, and Brisa followed with happy whinnies.

  Before Sirocco knew it, they’d emerged from the trees and were skimming over the meadow they call home. The moon had risen higher in the sky, and it seemed brighter as well. So did the twinkling stars.

  “Aaaah!” Sirocco sighed to himself. “Now this is more like it!”

  In the moonlight, he grew more confident than ever. He could make out the grass beneath him (though it looked silver instead of green) and the Wind Dancers’ apple tree (even if the branches looked creepy). Glancing over his shoulder at the fillies, Sirocco could even see black-as-night Kona.

  Grinning hard, Sirocco faced forward again and flapped his wings powerfully, for the first time loving the feel of the cool night air rustling through his mane.

  “So, what should we do now?” he called out to the horses behind him. “Maybe we should introduce ourselves to more night creatures.”

  “Hey, if you don’t wait up,” Sumatra called after Sirocco, “you’ll be introducing yourself alone! Stop flying so fast!”

  But Sirocco was thrilled not to be afraid anymore. And a happy Sirocco was a swift Sirocco. Without looking back, he yelled out, “Maybe you girls should start flying so fast. Try it, why don’t y—huh? Wait a minute, what’s happening?”

  Sirocco blinked hard in confusion as he flew onward.

  Because suddenly, he couldn’t see!

  Not a thing!

  Sirocco looked up. The moon, which had been smiling down upon him a moment ago, had disappeared. The grass beneath him had gone from silver to black. The apple tree had disappeared from view altogether.

  And worst of all, the sudden blackness had cut Sirocco off from his friends!

  “Kona? Sumatra?” Sirocco called as he flew. “Brisa? Are you still behind me?”

  There was no answer.

  Only silence—and the sound of the wind whistling past Sirocco’s ears. Sirocco fluttered to a stop and turned toward the fillies (or at least, he turned to where he thought the fillies ought to be).

  “Hey, you guys!” he neighed. “Catch up, slowpokes.”

  He laughed as he teased his friends, but it was a nervous laugh.

  And nobody giggled in response.

  They were gone! Sirocco realized. He was all alone.

  In the pitch-black night.

  “Okay, that does it!” Sirocco whinnied. He felt his tail shoot up in the air. “I’m officially scaaaaaared!” he screamed.

  CHAPTER 5

  A Horsey Hero

  Brisa, Kona, and Sumatra hovered in the air, clustered closely together. They could feel the tips of their wings brush against each other.

  “What just happened?” Brisa quavered.

  “I think the moon hid behind a cloud,” Sumatra said.

  “No, I think the cloud floated in front of the moon,” Kona corrected her.

  “Oh, really, Miss Bossyhooves?” Sumatra replied. “Well, what do you think, Sirocco? Is this the moon’s fault, or the cloud’s?”

  She waited for the colt to jump in.

  “Where’s Sirocco?” Sumatra neighed.

  “He must have been too far ahead of us when the lights went out,” Brisa said.

  “Listen,” Kona assured her friends. “Let’s just stay put. When the moonlight comes back, Sirocco will find us easily.”

  “I guess that sounds like a good idea,” Brisa said with a sigh. “But it’s still not very fun, being stuck here in the dark.”

  “At least we have each other,” Kona said. She reached her nose out into the darkness to touch Brisa’s nose.

  “Um, why are you poking at my flank with your nose?” Brisa asked politely.

  “Whoops, sorry,” Kona said
with a giggle. “It’s hard to snuggle in the dark. Maybe we should just hang on to our sleep buddies.”

  “Ooh, I almost forgot Brisina was here!” Brisa said happily. Nosing around in the blackness, she found Brisina dangling off her magic jewel and plucked her up with her teeth. Immediately, she felt a little better.

  Sumatra, too, reached around and pulled her ribbon-y blanket off her back. She held it between her teeth and stroked it with her foreleg.

  And Kona twisted around to nuzzle her teddy bear, who was still propped on the back of her neck.

  “Don’t worry, Charles,” she whispered to the fuzzy bear. “We’ll be just fine until the lights come back.”

  * * *

  Meanwhile, Sirocco couldn’t have felt less fine. He flew and flew and flew—calling out his friends’ names all the while. But it was hopeless. Nobody answered.

  “For all I know,” he said to himself, gloomily, “I’m just flying farther away from Brisa and Kona and Sumatra. For all I know, I’m flying upside down! Oh, and by the way—I hate the dark.”

  Sirocco shook his head. He was babbling.

  And he was flying off to who knew where.

  He was losing it!

  “Because I’m all alone!” he said, babbling more.

  Then suddenly, he heard a voice. But not with his ears. The voice was inside his head.

  It was Kona! With a start, Sirocco realized he knew just what she’d say if she were there.

  “Stop and take a deep breath,” she’d tell him in that cool, motherly way of hers. “Just clear your mind and calm down.”

  So Sirocco did. He hovered in the air and breathed in the cool night air.

  Sirocco blinked. The deep breath had helped. A little bit, anyway.

  “Think of something pretty!”

  That was Brisa’s voice in his head, now. Sirocco smiled a little and pictured the Wind Dancers’ apple tree house covered with juicy red apples.

  Finally, he heard the imaginary voice of Sumatra.

  “Look around,” said the resourceful filly. “You can see more than you think.”