Pocket Pegasus

by Susan Stafford

  Laura was left to finish the other five stalls while Mrs. Leeds busied herself sweeping down cobwebs and tidying the tack room and office. Laura’s arms were aching by the third stall.

  While she worked, Laura thought of Flash and wondered if he was behaving himself back at the house. His nose had been out of joint ever since she told him he could not go with her to the barn.

  “Too risky,” she had said.

  “Rubbish,” he had replied, and stalked off to sulk in the closet.

  Laura’s brain was swimming with information by the time they broke for lunch. The day was warm and sunny. Laura took her lunchbag to the picnic table under a huge elm where she could watch the horses while she ate. They did not bother to look up from their intent mowing of the early summer grass. The only exception was Alba, the broodmare, who pinned her ears occasionally and made ugly faces at Glory if she wandered too close.

  “Crisps?” Mrs. Leeds placed a bowl of sour cream and onion potato chips on the table. She sat down with her sandwich and the two ate in silence, grateful for the break.

  Phantom, the grey, lifted his head and stared intently at some unseen object in the distance. Mrs. Leeds followed Laura’s gaze to the attractive animal. “He’s a wonderful show hunter, ‘A’ Circuit material. His owner hopes to move him up to the big leagues this season.”

  She straightened suddenly. “Oh! How rude of me. You never asked about the wages. That’s actually one of the things I liked about you,” she said with a wink. “The pay is eight dollars per hour, six hours per day, Monday to Friday. If you would like to attend shows with us on the weekends, you’re more than welcome. There’s always room for an extra groom or gofer or horse-holder. I pay a small day fee of twenty-five dollars – not much, I know, but for a beginner, the learning experience is invaluable.”

  Laura quickly did the math in her head. Not counting the weekend work, she would be making over two hundred dollars per week. She supposed there would be taxes, but it seemed like a fortune. Suddenly, she wasn’t the least bit tired anymore.

  The remaining time of her shift she spent sweeping the aisles, scrubbing and refilling water buckets, and setting the evening feed.

  “The horses stay out all day until five o’clock or so. They have lots of fresh water in the outdoor troughs, and run-in sheds for shade. We bring them in if the weather turns really nasty, or of course, if there’s lightning.”

  Laura smiled and nodded. She totally understood the consequences of lightning.

  It was a very tired and dirty – but happy – young girl who called her mother shortly after one o’clock on her new cellphone to say she was ready to come home. The van had barely rolled to a stop in the driveway at their house before Laura was out the door, bounding up the porch steps.

  “Where are you off to in such a hurry?” her mother called after her.

  I’m going to check on my talking, flying horse was what Laura wanted to say, but what she really said was, “I’m, aaah, stinky and really need a shower.”

  Flash was very happy to see his mistress. He sniffed her hands with great interest. “Hmmmmm, horses. And lady horses, too. Tell me all about your day.”

  Laura started to strip off her sweaty tee, then stopped with a little gasp. “Oh,” she said, face reddening. “I can’t undress with you watching. That’s just too weird.”

  Flash snorted. “I think you’ve forgotten that I’ve lived in this room for years. Mind you, I did spend most of my time looking out the window.”

  Laura collected some clean clothes and headed, still dressed, to the bathroom for a much-needed shower.

  CHAPTER 5

  “I want to go to the barn,” Flash complained petulantly as Laura prepared for her third day of work. “I promise I’ll stay out of sight. I might even be of some use, you know, helping.”

  Laura sincerely doubted that Flash could a) stay hidden, and b) be of much help, but she was growing tired of his begging.

  “All right already, I’ll tell Mom that I want to ride my bike today. I bet she’d like to sleep in, anyway.”

  Tiptoeing into her parents’ room, Laura told her mother her plans. CeeCee mumbled a weak protest, then gratefully pulled the covers over her head. “Thanks, sweetie. Be safe. Make sure you take your cellphone, and if you’re tired after work, I’ll be happy to come and get you.”

  With Flash safely tucked into her backpack, Laura wheeled her reliable old mountain bike out of the driveway. The summer sun was still low on the horizon, but its rays warmed Laura’s bare arms.

  Once they were clear of cars and houses, Laura and Flash struck up a conversation. Flash even flew beside her whenever the coast was clear, which was often at this early hour. He swooped and dove and nickered his funny little nicker.

  Laura loved to see him so free and happy. She tried her best to get him outside as often as possible to graze and gallop and soar, but it wasn’t always easy. Twice, her dad had walked unexpectedly into the backyard to work on their new garden shed, and Flash had been forced to dive for the bushes. It was nerve-wracking, but it was all she could do for the time being.

  With a swoosh, Flash disappeared into the open backpack. A moment later, Laura heard crunching. “Hey, that’s my apple!” she protested.

  “Not anymore,” came the slobbery reply.

  Fortunately, Mrs. Leeds announced she had to run into town for supplies and would be gone for a couple of hours, leaving Laura alone with the chores.

  “Are you certain you’ll be okay?” the kindly owner asked once the horses were all safely in their paddocks.

  “Absolutely!” Laura replied. “I’ll be fine. Don’t worry about us – I mean, me.”

  The farm truck was barely out of sight before Flash was in the air. He immediately headed for the paddocks to introduce himself to his fellow equines. Unfortunately, they were quite startled by his friendly, “Hello, everybody,” and bolted wildly to the far side of their fields. Even brave little Smidge joined the stampede – not because he was afraid, but simply because everyone else was running. The herd stood against the far fence, snorting and blowing loudly, nostrils flared, eyes bulging, ears trained toward the tiny intruder.

  “Flash!” Laura yelled. Flash was about to launch himself toward his new-found, terrified friends, but the anger in the girl’s voice stopped him. “Get back here!”

  “But…but…I want to speak to them.” Flash looked beseechingly back and forth between the seething Laura and the skittery herd. His wings drooped and he slunk sullenly along the top rail of the fence, back to his livid mistress.

  Laura strode back to the barn, muttering under her breath. Flash fluttered behind her swinging ponytail. From the barn door, Laura watched as the horses uneasily moved apart and began grazing again.

  “I’m sorry,” Flash began, “I had no idea they would react like that.”

  “It’s okay,” Laura said, her annoyance fading when she saw how genuinely crushed he was.

  “It’s just that I was so excited to see my own kind again, even if they are more like distant relatives.” He looked longingly towards the paddocks.

  “I promise I’ll make proper introductions soon. You really have to take things slowly where horses are concerned, you know.”

  “The horses of my day were much more friendly and relaxed,” Flash observed, tossing his mane.

  “The horses of your day ran free and may have been happier,” Laura shot back. “But they probably had worms and got eaten by wild animals on a regular basis.”

  True to her word, once the bulk of the barn chores were done, Laura perched the little horse in the crook of her elbow and escorted him back to the paddocks. Immediately, all heads were raised, but the pair’s casual approach did not incite a stampede this time.

  Laura had already decided that Smidge was the perfect candidate for the initial meeting, as he was rarely ruffled by anything. “Absolutely bombproof,” was how Mrs. Leeds described him. The little black pony came over to the fence at Laura’s bidding,
sniffing her outstretched hand. Flash watched quietly from his perch on Laura’s arm, then cautiously began to make his way along her forearm, keeping his wings pinned against his sides to prevent spooking Smidge and setting off another riot.

  Smidge poked his little muzzle through the gap in the boards. Flash stretched his neck forward to touch noses, the time-honoured equine greeting.

  Carefully, the winged visitor stepped off Laura’s arm onto the fence rail. She was relieved about that, as his tiny, sharp hooves dug into her skin, and he was a lot heavier than he looked.

  And so began a dialogue and a friendship. Flash alternated between a low huh huh huh nickering and quiet human talk, but slipped into a strange combination of the two that Smidge actually seemed to understand. At the end of the exchange, the pony nodded his head up and down enthusiastically as if in agreement with something Flash had imparted to him.

  “He is going to explain to the rest of the horses that there is no reason to be afraid of me,” he said. “I thought that would be the best–” He broke off suddenly, staring down the driveway. Mrs Leeds was back!

  Laura had nowhere to hide Flash, but Smidge, sensing their panic, shook his considerable shock of thick pony mane, and Flash, without a moment’s hesitation, straddled his neck. Laura hastily fluffed up the unruly, coarse hair to hide him. The result was a perfectly normal-looking pony with an extra pair of wide eyes peering out from the forelock between his ears.

  With a furtive glance behind her, Laura was off down the driveway to help Mrs. Leeds unload the supplies. As she couldn’t sling the heavy sacks of oats and sweet feed over her shoulder like the strong older woman, she improvised by sliding them off the tailgate of the truck and into a waiting wheelbarrow, where she carted them two at a time to the feed room.

  Mrs. Leeds was impressed with her ingenuity. “It doesn’t matter how you get it there, as long as it gets there,” she said with approval.

  At the end of the day, Laura hefted her backpack over her shoulder and casually walked over to Smidge’s paddock to say goodbye to the horses. Smidge waited patiently by the fence, his hitchhiker still in place.

  “I’m going to turn around. Get in quick while Mrs. Leeds isn’t looking,” Laura hissed to Flash. He obediently scrambled from his pony-hair hiding place to the depths of the backpack.

  On the way home, the pair actually laughed about the close call, and Laura began to feel that life with Flash could be normal. Well, almost normal.

  CHAPTER 6

  “We’re going to a model show!”

  Krissy made this announcement as she flopped onto the patio swing on Laura’s back deck. “We haven’t been to one in ages. There’s a show and sale in the city at the convention centre this weekend.” She waved a section of the newspaper at her friend in case proof was needed.

  “It’s about time you had a good idea,” Laura teased. “We could take the bus up after I finish work on Friday. Cool.”

  At one time Laura had shown her models, and enjoyed the fun, friendly competition. She found, however, that lately, it was becoming harder to spend the time and money necessary to “rework” models or purchase new ones in order to stay really competitive. As an avid collector, though, she could not resist attending shows whenever she had the chance.

  “I’m going with you!” Flash insisted when he caught wind of the girls’ plans.

  Laura chewed thoughtfully on her lip. Her first instinct was to say no, but Flash had been accompanying her and Krissy on many of their outings recently without any major disasters.

  “Okay,” she agreed, “ but you’ll have to–”

  “I know, I know,” Flash sighed. “I’ll have to stay out of sight and do whatever you say. I am aware of the rules, you understand.”

  If only you would obey them, Laura thought ruefully.

  Krissy’s mother picked Laura up at her house after work on Friday as planned. Hastily showered, hair still damp and her first paycheck tucked into the pocket of her jeans, Laura asked if she and Krissy could be dropped off in front of the bank in town. “I need to deposit my cheque and take out some money for the show.” The very words sounded strange and grown-up. “We can walk to the bus stop from there.”

  The pocketful of cash felt very good against Laura’s hip as the city-bound bus pulled away from the curb. Laura rearranged the backpack – the “Flashpack,” as the girls had dubbed it – so that the tiny traveller wouldn’t be squashed or suffocated.

  Even with his limited view from the confines of the bag, Flash found the trip very exciting: all the passengers, the swaying motion of the bus, the world whizzing by outside the windows. A couple of times he lost control and let out a tiny horsey squeal, much to the girls’ horror.

  Curious glances directed their way prompted Laura to lean over and whisper “Knock it off!” at the hidden troublemaker.

  The convention centre was bustling with model enthusiasts and their entries. Long tables displayed hundreds of exhibits in categories such as Custom Model and Original Finish. There were also halter classes for Andalusians, ponies and Appaloosas, beautiful Arabians in costume, and even models set in elaborate racetrack, show ring and desert scenes. Laura sighed happily at the sight.

  Near the entrance, she spotted some people she recognized. Taylor and Tyler, or The Terrible Twins as they were known on the local model circuit, were a year younger than Laura, but tons of fun. They had always gone out of their way to help her at model shows, sharing their tips and tricks.

  While Laura caught up on the latest gossip with the twosome, she rested the heavy backpack on an empty corner of a nearby table. Top-heavy, as its occupant was standing on his hind legs inside, trying to look out, the bag fell over with a whoomp. Flash tumbled out, end over end, onto the table. Exposed for all to see, he immediately froze – one foreleg raised as if about to paw or strike, wings sleek and motionless.

  It was several moments before Tyler’s gaze drifted to the figure on the table. “Holy crap!” he exclaimed. “Where in the world did you get that?”

  Both Krissy and Laura’s heads snapped around in unison. Oh God, Laura thought, heart sinking.

  Flash remained immobile, but oh so visible. He may as well have had a spotlight on him and a flashing red beacon strapped to his head.

  “It’s fabulous!” Taylor squealed, and lunged to pick up the statue. Her expression changed the second she wrapped her hand around his midsection. “Oh!” She immediately dropped him and pulled back, startled. “It’s warm…and furry… and weird.”

  “It’s, ahhh, a new type of material. Very lifelike, don’t you think?” Laura said nervously. She was stunned at Flash’s irresponsible act. He had landed back on the table with a soft clunk and remained on his side, unmoving.

  Krissy made the first move, scooping up the winged figure, stuffing him hastily into the backpack and moving off down the aisle. “Well, gotta go. So much to see, so little time, you know.”

  Laura followed her friend, offering apologies to the twins over her shoulder.

  Across the aisle, a pair of dark eyes watched the girls retreat. That was no model, thought the boy, who had witnessed the entire scene. He recognized Laura and Krissy from other model shows. He lived in the same town as they did, and even attended the same school, but he was very, very different from the carefree young girls. While he envisioned his own existence as tragic and full of darkness, he imagined those two spoiled brats as living charmed lives, and hated them for it.

  Blade, the name he had adopted, lived in the older section of town, where modest winterized cottages served as homes for some of the lower-income families. The lanky thirteen-year-old kept mostly to himself, playing war games online, reading graphic novels, and listening to goth music: AFI, Skinny Puppy, Wumpscut. Mostly, he tried to stay out of his father’s way. The man did not understand his son’s sullen withdrawal, body piercings or choice of clothes and music. After a night of drinking, he would often verbally and physically challenge the boy.

  Blade did
have one genuine passion: medieval artifacts. He was fascinated with books, games, artwork and models depicting knights and battles during the Dark Ages. The medieval jousting model classes had attracted his interest, which explained his attendance at the show, even though he generally believed that people who collected and showed stupid plastic horses were losers.

  Blade was now quite certain – no, he was positive – that he had just seen Pegasus fall out of a backpack and strike a pose. He had no idea what it was or where it came from, but he knew he had to possess it.

  He started down the aisle after the girls.

  One of the hits of the show, to Laura’s delight, was the Breyer Pegasus model. A crowd had formed around the display in the merchandising section.

  “Oh,” Laura breathed. “I’d love to have one of those!”

  “What on earth for?” The muffled question emanated from her backpack. “You already have me.”

  “Shhh!” Laura said through clenched teeth. “You’re already in deep do-do. Besides, it would be company for you. Maybe I’ll save up and get one at the end of the summer.”

  “Pfffft.” Flash, disgusted, made a rude noise and fell silent.

  Two hours later, with packages in hand, the girls tumbled happily out of the building and into a waiting bus. The door hinged shut, then opened again to admit a tall, dark-haired boy. He slouched into a seat near the back, where he had a clear view of the girls through the shock of black hair hanging over his smouldering eyes. He stared intently at the pair, causing them to giggle nervously and look away.

  “Who’s the creepy goth kid?” asked Krissy out of the corner of her mouth.