Fred shook his head. “I know this from my mother’s history. She was in a residential school. A person pays heavily for wisdom.”
Bird had learned about residential schools in class. For decades, aboriginal children in Canada were taken from their parents by the government and forced to live in schools far away from home. In a disastrous program, with no insight into the consequences, they were forced to learn English ways, and they were not allowed to speak their native tongue or to learn about their own cultures. Some of the children died trying to get home. Physical, sexual, and mental abuse occurred, and lifetime scarring affected subsequent generations. Even when there was evidence that the program was failing, the government turned a blind eye.
Bird felt sadness for Fred’s mother — her grandmother, whom she’d never known. The three were silent for a spontaneous moment of tribute to the heavy price of wisdom. She asked quietly, “One day, will you tell me about her?”
“One day I’ll tell you. That is a promise.”
Bird nodded, then said, “Come to the house with us. Please, Dad? Mrs. Pierson would love to see you, and Hannah, too, and Paul and Julia.”
Fred gave her a sideways look. “But Eva? How do you think she would feel?”
Bird considered this. Her mother had always been bitter at Fred for leaving her pregnant so many years ago. All Bird’s life, she’d heard from Eva about the rotten, no good, “Indian Cowboy” who was her father. Just before he died, Pete Pierson told them the urgent reason Fred had left all those years before. Fred was an RCMP undercover officer working on a dangerous case, and his cover had been blown. Eva and their baby were in dire peril. His “death” was the only way they could be safe, but the secret had to be kept from Eva, as well.
Alec offered his thoughts. “I may be wrong, but I agree with Bird. I think you should come with us. This is a new beginning for Eva. It’s Christmas, and Christmas is for families. And Fred is your father, Bird. I think it’d be good.”
Fred had doubts. “I don’t know. Perhaps Eva doesn’t need another shock tonight.”
“I don’t know, either,” said Bird honestly. “But it would be really nice, and there’s lots of food. Have you eaten?”
“No. Now that you ask, I’m very hungry.” His face lit up as he changed the subject. “But come with me. You’ll be happy to learn something.” Fred left the tack room and began to walk down the stable aisle with purpose. “Something special.”
“I thought you were the special present that Cody was talking about,” Bird said, keeping up with his long strides.
Alec threw up his hands. “The coyote? You two speak a totally different language than me!”
Bird and Fred laughed, knowing full well that Alec was quite correct. In fact, aside from herself and her father, Bird knew of no other person who could speak to animals.
Fred stopped at Moonlight Sonata’s stall. He leaned on the door and glanced at Bird before addressing the mare. It’s time to share your secret. Do you want to tell her, Moonie? Or shall I?
Moonie shook her head up and down. May I?
Yes.
I will be having a foal when the new grass grows.
Moonie, enthused Bird. This is wonderful news! Are you feeling all right?
Yes. Very healthy.
Is the foal a good one?
Yes. It’s a colt. He’s very good, with long legs like his father.
Yes? And who is the father?
Dancer, of course. This is the foal we conceived on the day of the Good Man’s funeral.
Bird was thrilled. She would need to explain this carefully to Moonie’s owners, her friend Kimberly and her mother, Lavinia Davies. They hadn’t expected their horse to miss a show season, and they also might not want the expense of a foal. Hannah might be a little upset, too. An unexplained “accident” like this surprise pregnancy would make her stable look somewhat lax.
“Can someone tell me what the horse is saying?” Alec asked. “I’m at a disadvantage here, not speaking Animal.”
“Moonie’s in foal with Dancer!” enthused Bird. “This is wonderful news.”
“Wow,” said Alec. “How did that happen?”
Fred had a joke at his expense. “I’ll have to sit you down and fill you in on the birds and the bees, son.”
Alec chortled, and asked, “Isn’t Dancer Sundancer’s father?”
Bird nodded. “Yes, he is.”
Just then, Cliff entered the barn. He called, “Hello?”
Bird answered, “Cliff! We’re in the arena aisle!”
“I was on my way to talk to Hannah and saw the lights. All good here? No problems?”
“Totally good. And we have news!”
Cliff came around the corner and saw Fred. “Well, Fred Sweetree! Good to see you, man!”
“Cliff. Good to see you!” They shook hands. The men had worked very closely together the previous summer.
“Cliff,” said Bird. “Moonie’s in foal!”
“No way.” Cliff looked puzzled. He marched up to Moonie’s stall and opened the door. He checked her milk sacs and belly. “Well, well. And I just told Kimberly to keep her mare more fit. How the heck did this happen?”
Alec nudged Cliff. “I’ll have to sit you down and fill you in on the birds and the bees.”
Fred smiled.
“Ha ha. Very funny.” Cliff groaned at Alec’s joke as he scratched his head. “We watch these horses carefully. The Davies didn’t organize a breeding. They’re going to go crazy.”
“Not necessarily,” said Fred. “How much is a breeding worth with Daring Dancer, the pride of Caledon?”
“He’s the sire?” Cliff grinned and nodded his approval. “Right on. Three grand or more.”
Bird said, “Tell Lavinia that she just saved herself three thousand dollars plus all the vet fees, and she’ll have a mighty fine foal, to boot.”
“You tell Lavinia,” Cliff retorted. “That woman scares me.”
“You said my mother scares you.”
“Eva? Yes, she does. But in a contest, Lavinia scares me more.”
Bird shrugged. “Lavinia loves Sunny. Remember? She wanted to buy him for Kimberly. Tell her Moonie is going to give her a foal just like him.”
“If it’s so easy, you do it.” Then Cliff said to them all, “You can save me a trip. Tell Hannah we’re going to light the bonfire and roast marshmallows. Come over and join us.”
“Great idea!” said Bird. “It’s just what we need to cheer everybody up. When should we show up?”
“I’m going to light it now. Bring everybody, okay?”
Bird turned to Fred. “Please stay. I’ll make you a huge plate of turkey dinner and even warm it up.”
“Which is better than I got,” quipped Alec.
Bird begged, “Please?”
“Okay. But I’ll take off quickly if my presence upsets Eva.”
“That’s a deal.”
“I’ll go with you now, Cliff, to get the fire lit properly.” Fred winked at Cliff, pulled his cap out of his pocket, and put it on.
Bird said, “See you in a few minutes. This’ll be fun!”
“Follow the flames,” he said. “Over by the pond.”
Cliff and Fred left the barn together.
“Too bad Mrs. Pierson hurt her ankle,” said Alec. “She can’t come to the bonfire, and she loves parties.”
“Wait a minute! She can come to the party!” Bird rushed to Sundancer’s stall.
Sunny? Do you want to come to a party? There’ll be food.
Hmm. Apple cider?
Yes. And marshmallows.
What are we waiting for!
You can pull the sled again.
You didn’t tell me that part.
For apple cider and marshmallows, would you do it? Mrs. Pierson needs a lift
to the bonfire.
Okay. I’ll do it for the Good Lady. And cider and marshmallows.
Thank you, Sunny.
“Hey, Alec,” said Bird. “We have a plan. Can you tell everybody what’s up and organize a plate of food for my father? Tell them to dress warmly. I’ll get Sunny hitched up and bring him to the front door.”
“He’s going to pull Mrs. Pierson?”
“Yes!”
“Genius. I’ll make sure she’s got warm clothes and blankets.”
Bird impulsively threw her arms around Alec’s neck and gave him an enormous kiss on the lips. “Thank you.”
Alec returned the kiss and tightened his embrace. They stood leaning into each other, forgetting the outside world, transported into a delicious alternate reality.
Hello-oo-oo? Sunny messaged. What about the apple cider?
Bird chuckled. Alec looked at her with dreamy eyes.
“Later,” she said. “We have a Christmas to save!”
Once Alec had left the barn, Bird picked up the bag of treats that she’d left in the tack room. They were the size of golf balls, made of oats and crunch, and carrot and apple bits mixed with molasses. She’d baked them herself as her gift to the horses.
She was happy to have this time alone in the barn. First thing, she mixed one treat in a cup of hot water and let it sit. This was for Josh because he was very old and had trouble swallowing. The last thing Bird wanted was to kill the lovely white thoroughbred in a choking fit on Christmas.
She started at the front and worked her way down one aisle and up the next, having brief conversations with each horse as she went.
For the most part, the horses were happy with their lives, and wished Bird a Merry Christmas. Pastor was ready to get back in the show ring. Sabrina made a wish that she’d be champion pony again this coming season. Tall Sox thanked Bird for rescuing him and was pleased that he’d seen Fred tonight, to thank him, too. Charlie asked if Bird could get the massage person back because he was a little sore on his withers, and Bird made a mental note to check the fit of his saddle. Simon was so glad to get a treat that he had nothing to say at all, and Annie snatched it from her hand and messaged, I should’ve been first! Bird chortled at her impatience. Each horse was different, and she loved them all.
When she got to Amigo, the young thoroughbred had something on his mind.
Bird, you saved me last year from that dark place.
Yes, I remember, Amigo. You were very weak.
I was going to die. I had made peace with the Creator.
I’m glad you spoke up before I took the other horses from the shed that night.
It was my last chance.
You’ve grown big, now, and you’re strong, Amigo.
Yes. Now, I’m ready to work for a living. Can you train me soon? I’ll wear the saddle and the bridle, and do everything you ask. I’ve been watching and learning.
Bird was touched by his earnest request. Yes, Amigo. I will start tomorrow if you think you’re ready.
I am! I will put the saddle on myself if you teach me how!
Bird chuckled. If I can teach you that, we’ll become famous.
I want to be famous! Like Sundancer and Tall Sox.
Let’s start slow, Amigo, and find out what you’re best at.
The young grey horse nodded his head vigorously. I want to be good at everything!
Then you might well become an event horse.
What is that?
A horse that is good at dressage, show jumping, and jumping solid jumps across big open fields.
Yes! Yes! I can do all that! What is the first thing you said?
Dressage? It’s like dancing.
Yes! I can dance! He lifted his feet in a jumble of steps.
Bird patted his head and laughed. Okay. We start tomorrow.
She moved on, distributing her Christmas treats, and thinking how lucky she was to be surrounded by so many good animals and good people. We’re all mammals together on this Earth, she considered. We have to stand together, because what’s good for one is good for the others. She remembered an old Cree prophecy:
When all the trees have been cut down,
When all the animals have been hunted,
When all the waters are polluted,
When all the air is unsafe to breathe,
Only then will you discover that you can’t eat money.
She brought Sunny out into the aisle and prepared him for the job at hand, with a surcingle around his chest and lunge lines to pull the sled.
Better than those old ropes, messaged Bird.
Anything is better than those old ropes. So itchy and smelly.
Alec opened the barn door and called, “Bird? Are you ready? Mrs. Pierson is bundled up and waiting.”
“Almost!”
“Your mom and Stuart are coming, too!”
“Really? I thought they’d gone to bed.”
“They had, but they say they wouldn’t miss a bonfire.”
“That’s great.” Bird felt a surge of hopefullness.
“Don’t be too long. We have Christmas to save, remember?”
7
The Bonfire
Dashing through the snow,
In a one-horse open sleigh,
O’er the fields we go,
Laughing all the way …
Bird slogged beside Sunny as he calmly pulled the sleigh carrying Laura Pierson, wrapped in blankets and delighted with the plan.
“This time I’m going to enjoy the ride!” Mrs. Pierson called out. She pulled the blanket up to her ears and shook with merriment.
The top layer of ice had melted, and the snow beneath their feet was heavy, but their mood was light as they moved toward the party. Alec and Julia walked on either side of Mrs. Pierson.
The moon climbed high over the dripping, ice-laden treetops, and mist rose from the pond. As the air continued to warm in the southerly breeze, the melting icicles tinkled like music.
“Isn’t it beautiful?” Mrs. Pierson sighed.
“Like a magical kingdom!” exclaimed Julia.
The closer they got to the fire, the more intense was the aroma of burning wood, and the louder the sounds of crackling and snapping as flames ate up the small branches before settling in to dwell in the large logs.
Alec and Julia joined Mrs. Pierson in the singing of “Joy to the World.” They sang loudly and out of tune. Mrs. Pierson shrieked with fits of the giggles as they bumped over ice ridges.
Bird remembered how much pain Mrs. Pierson had suffered just the night before. What a difference a day makes, she thought. And Paul’s veterinary medicine.
Excuse me? You said there was apple cider?
Yes, Sunny. Apple cider and marshmallows. Soon.
Bird saw Fred sitting on a lawn chair in the shadows, digging into a plate of food. At least he’ll have had some dinner, thought Bird, if he has to leave early.
Paul waved to them and motioned that he needed some help, so Alec and Julia ran off to carry chairs and set them up far enough away from the fire to be safe. Hannah and Paul were busy organizing the rum and cider. Cliff and his son were cutting sticks to roast marshmallows, while Cliff’s daughter played with the children and kept them safe.
Stuart and Eva were sitting together hand in hand, looking into the fire. She took a closer look. What the heck was Eva wearing? She was in an old plaid coat and a grey hat with earflaps, clothes she’d never seen her mother wear. This was a surprise. At least Eva was warm, she thought. Much warmer than the flimsy outfits she normally wore.
In the glow of the flames, she saw a little smile on Eva’s face. Bird felt a pang of optimism.
Don’t get too close to the fire, Bird.
No worries there, Sunny.
I don’t want my coat singed.
I don’t want that, either. I had my hair singed off once already.
I remember that. You looked bad.
But I saved those horses from the fire.
Yes. But you looked bad for a very long time.
Such a pal, Sunny. Bird laughed out loud.
Mrs. Pierson called to her from the sled. “I know just how you feel, dear! Isn’t this wonderful?”
“Yes, it’s wonderful,” answered Bird. And it was. Suddenly, Bird felt better about Christmas. Take away the fuss of gift buying, parties, preparing feasts, and travel plans, and remove the false expectations of non-stop happiness and family perfection. Take all the stress away, and unexpectedly you find the simple pleasures of being with the people you love. Not just my family, Bird thought, but the families of people I care about.
And gifts feel so good to give, she thought, reliving Hannah and Julia’s delight in her small gifts. Not for their lavishness, but for their thoughtfulness, showing that she cared.
A red van came to a stop in the field, followed by a black one, then a white one.
Mrs. Pierson called out, “Bird! Stop!”
“Whoa, Sunny,” said Bird. “What’s wrong, Mrs. Pierson?”
“Nothing’s wrong! Everything’s right! My boys are here with their families! Turn left! Drive me over!”
Sunny pulled Mrs. Pierson over the field, toward the cars.
“Here they are! All of them. Bless their dear souls!” The elderly woman was so excited that Bird worried she might jump out, swollen ankle and all. “Faster, Sunny!”
“Mrs. Pierson! Stay where you are!”
“Giddy-up!” the old woman yelled.
Sundancer picked up a trot and covered the ground quickly. Bird ran to keep up and stood with him while the van doors slid open. Mrs. Pierson’s three sons and their wives, plus their grown children and some cousins with their kids, came tumbling out. Eighteen adults and three small boys.
They embraced each other heartily and laughed and told jokes. Mrs. Pierson was swept up in their excitement, and Bird was astonished by the sheer amount of love and goodwill they conveyed.
The Pierson men lifted Mrs. Pierson from the sled and carried her to a place by the fire, where the whole family could spend some time.
Christmas at Saddle Creek Page 8
