Sundancer. Shelley Peterson
Okay. Maybe one day you’ll let me understand why you’re the way you are.
Suddenly the gelding shuddered violently. Bird, eyes still closed, saw what was in his mind. Was it his imagination or a memory of a real event? She saw a man coming at him with a pitchfork, yelling harshly and waving his arms. A dark stall. No way out. Sundancer reared, striking the man with a front hoof. The man fell and Sundancer ran out of the stall. Out of the barn. Down the road. He ran and ran. He couldn’t stop.
From the tack room window, this is what Hannah and Paul saw: Sundancer, for no discernable reason, suddenly reared up, struck out, then raced off.
In an instant, everyone was in motion. Hector started barking in panic, and Hannah ran through the barn. “Paul, get help!” she yelled over her shoulder. “I’ll try to stop him!” Once outside, she climbed the fence and ran for the middle of the field where she’d be closest to Bird if she fell.
On the horse ran, head down, legs stretched to the limit. Bird’s fingers clutched handfuls of mane and her legs clenched tight.
It was the yelling that set him off in the barn, she thought. It was a memory; a flashback. When Peter ran in waving his arms and yelling about the coyote, Sundancer just stopped thinking. He’s living in a dream and no one can reach him. She clung to him like a burr.
Sundancer raced faster. We’re flying, Bird thought. We’re not even touching the earth. I’ve never felt power like this before.
Hannah caught sight of Bird’s face. She looked calm and determined. But the horse was another story. A chill went down Hannah’s spine as she looked at his face. The gelding’s eyes were closed.
“Please, Lord above, save this child,” prayed Hannah. She could not begin to imagine how many things could go wrong.
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.”