Mystic and the Midnight Ride

by Stacy Gregg

  “But what about my horse?” Issie was cold with horror as she spoke. Her mum kept ignoring her questions about Mystic. Something was wrong. Mrs Brown had turned her head away from her now. At first she couldn’t speak. Finally she faced her daughter and took her hand. Her words came softly but in Issie’s ears they were like crashes of thunder.

  “Isadora, there was nothing anyone could have done. The truck…” Her mother’s voice trailed off for a moment. “…Isadora, Mystic is dead.”

  “No!” Issie felt hot tears running down her cheeks. She was shaking, gasping once more for breath. “No!”

  “I’m sorry, honey.” Her mother was still clutching her hand, and she was crying too. “Stella saw it all from the side of the road. You and Mystic saved the other horses, you know. If you hadn’t gone after them and herded them back up the driveway, who knows what would have happened. But then the truck came…” Mrs Brown stroked away her daughter’s tears. “You know, I think Mystic was trying to save you too. When he reared up and threw you clear of the truck, it saved your life. So it wasn’t just the other horses he saved. He saved you.”

  “Isadora,” the doctor interrupted, “I’m just going to give you a sedative. It’ll take away the pain and let you relax for a while.”

  Issie nodded vacantly. She didn’t really hear what the doctor was saying, and she could no longer feel the pain in her ribs. Instead, it was her heart that ached. An ache that consumed her entire soul. Mystic was dead.

  Issie barely even noticed the sting of the injection that Doctor Stone gave her, but she began to feel its effects almost immediately. She felt woozy, and her muscles went limp. Through half-closed eyes she could see her mother sitting beside the bed holding her hand, then she drifted off, back into darkness, back into black sleep.

  Her mother was still sitting by the bed two hours later when she opened her eyes again.

  “How are you feeling, honey?” Mrs Brown ran her hand softly over her daughter’s forehead, smoothing back her dark hair. Issie’s complexion, usually a light olive colour just like her mum’s, was so drained and pale she was almost the same colour as the hospital sheets.

  “I’ve telephoned your dad,” Mrs Brown told her, still stroking her hair as she spoke. “He said he would fly up to see you, but I told him it would be OK, that you were likely to be going home tonight. Still, he was very worried about you.”

  “Sure he was,” Issie said. Since her mum and dad divorced three years ago it seemed like she hardly even existed. Her father had remarried and had a whole new family in another city now and it had been months since she saw him last. What made her mum think that just because she’d been in an accident he would come running?

  “Anyway, he sent you these.” Mrs Brown lifted up a pot of yellow chrysanthemums and plonked them down on the table by Issie’s bed.

  “Issie,” Mrs Brown took her daughter’s hand, “when you’re ready to talk about what happened to Mystic…”

  “Mum, I don’t want to. Not yet…” Issie was trying hard not to start crying all over again. She looked down at the bed clothes, refusing to meet her mother’s eyes. “Can’t I…can’t we just go home now? I just want it all to be over.”

  “I’m sorry, I hope I’m not interrupting?” Doctor Stone entered the room. “Only we really need to get Isadora down to x-ray now.”

  Mrs Brown sighed. “Of course. We can talk later when we get home.”

  Two hours later, the x-rays had been taken and Doctor Stone’s diagnosis was confirmed: no broken bones, just some bruising, slight concussion and a large swollen lump at the front of her head where the peak of the helmet had connected with the road.

  Issie was getting dressed to go home when she heard a knock. “Can we come in?” Stella and Kate stuck their heads around the corner of the door to Issie’s room. Issie gave them a weak smile and the two girls entered the room and sat down beside her bed. Kate looked pale with shock and Stella’s freckled face was flushed hot pink from crying.

  “How are Toby and Coco?” Issie wanted to know.

  “Well, Toby has gone lame. But it’s nothing serious. The vet thinks it’s a stone bruise from galloping on the gravel but he should be OK in a week or so.” Kate managed a grin.

  “And Coco is just fine. She threw a shoe, but she wasn’t hurt,” Stella continued. “In fact, that run is probably the most exercise she’s had in years!”

  “If you and Mystic hadn’t caught up with them…” Stella sighed. “Well, it was just the bravest thing I’ve ever seen.” She looked down at her shoes for a moment and then back at Issie. “I mean, I know there’s nothing I can do to bring Mystic back, but Kate and I were thinking…if you wanted to, you could ride Coco and Toby any time you like. We could even work out a roster. You could have Coco on Mondays and Tuesdays and ride Toby on Wednesdays…” She paused as Issie began to cry.

  “Oh, Issie, I know it’s not the same as having your own horse but…”

  Issie shook her head. “It’s not that. Don’t you see? I don’t want another horse. Not after what happened to Mystic. I couldn’t…I’m never going to ride again.”

  That night, home from the hospital, Issie found it hard to sleep. When she did finally close her eyes, the vision of the grey ghost horse returned. There was the pounding of hooves, and then once again the horse appeared and reared to a halt just out of Issie’s reach.

  This time she could see his face more clearly. The smouldering charcoal eyes, the velvety nostrils flared with tension. It was Mystic. She was sure of that now. She held out her hand and the horse whinnied gently, lowering his head so that the tip of his nose traced just above the ground as he stepped towards her. Issie knew that the lowered head was part of “horse language”. It was Mystic’s way of saying, “I know you. I trust you. You’re part of my herd.”

  She spoke softly to him now, “Easy, Mystic, easy, boy. It’s me, boy…” Her hand reached out and Issie felt a shock of wonder as her fingers touched the silver tussock of his mane. The sensation of the coarse, ropey hair against her skin was totally real. This horse was no ghost! It was as alive as she was. Why, if she only reached out her other hand and grabbed on to his mane, she was sure she could swing herself up on to Mystic’s back and ride him. Ride him just as she had done before the accident had ruined everything. She reached out a hand, but Mystic stepped backwards and pawed fitfully at the ground with his left front hoof Then he turned again and galloped off, the silver stream of his tail disappearing into the blackness.

  “I know it sounds stupid,” Issie told her mum at breakfast the next day, “but it was as if he was real. I mean, I know it must have been a dream, but it didn’t feel like a dream. It was like Mystic was really there, right in front of me. I even touched him!”

  “Oh, sweetheart,” Mrs Brown took her daughter’s small, tanned hand in her own, “you had a bad fall and you’ve been through a terrible experience. It’s only natural that you’ll be pretty shaken up for a while. But you have to face up to what has happened. I know it hurts and you miss Mystic. But you’re lucky to be alive.”

  Mrs Brown smiled gently as she reached over and poured out a cup of hot chocolate for Issie and a fresh cup of tea for herself. “Your father and I have discussed the best thing to do about this…” Mrs Brown looked down at her cup of tea. She paused, unable to get the words out. “Isadora, I know how much you love horses. And I know what happened wasn’t your fault. You were very brave to do what you did. But, well, your father agreed with me on this…” Mrs Brown finally looked her daughter in the face.

  “Issie, I can’t let you have another horse. It was so terrifying when you were in that hospital bed and I didn’t know whether you would even wake up. I couldn’t go through that again. I am your mother and…oh, Issie, you have to understand I can’t risk something else happening to you. I know that you want to get another horse and—”

  “No, Mum, you don’t understand!” Issie felt hot tears well in her eyes. How could her mum even think she would wan
t a new horse? All she wanted was Mystic. She wanted her horse to come back to her. How could she explain to her mother that Mystic was more than just some pony to her? That he had been her closest friend, the one soul that she could confide all her secrets to, because he would never betray her. A kindred spirit who she could trust totally and love absolutely. The most important thing in her life. The truth was, she couldn’t explain it to her mother, or to anyone.

  Issie took a deep breath and kept her eyes on the bowl of cereal in front of her. “I don’t care anyway.” Issie could feel the tears running down her cheeks; she wanted to stop crying but she couldn’t. She wiped her cheeks roughly with her sleeve and faced her mother. “I said that I was never going to ride again, and I meant it.”

  CHAPTER 5

  “You know Lisa Jones?” Stella was chattering away and looking absent-mindedly for a book in her school bag as they walked into Mrs Carter’s classroom for fourth period maths. “Well,” Stella continued, “her family moved to the Hawkes Bay and she had to go to this new school. I think it’s called Iona College. Anyway, it’s very posh and they get to ride horses at school. Can you believe it? Horse riding is actually a school subject! So instead of doing a stinky old maths class, you could go riding instead. Lisa grazes her horse there and she’s allowed to go and check on him at lunchtimes, and they even have proper stables with loose boxes to keep them in. I mean, that would be so cool, wouldn’t it?”

  Issie just nodded, and headed for the back of the classroom, taking her usual seat at the far corner of the room. She was sick and tired of hearing stories about horses and how much fun they were. It seemed like ever since she told Stella and Kate that she wasn’t going to ride any more, the pair of them had been trying to come up with new ways to get her interested in riding again. OK, she knew her friends were just trying to help, but she wished they would leave her alone.

  Stella leaned over from her desk and whispered to Issie, “Hey, Kate and I were thinking that after school, if you’re not busy—”

  Issie groaned and cut her off in mid-sentence, “Stella, I don’t want to go riding. Not this afternoon. Not ever!”

  “OK, OK, get over yourself,” Stella sneered back. “What I was going to say is that me and Kate, well, you know how Kallista Field has a pierced belly button? Well, they do piercings at Lacey’s chemist shop and we were thinking of getting them done too.”

  Of course Issie knew all about Kallista Field. There were always stories about the young dressage rider in PONY Magazine. Issie even had pictures of Kallista up on the wall in her bedroom. Kallista wasn’t just a good rider, she was also tall and beautiful with long blonde hair. And she had a pierced belly button. Issie had seen it in photos and she had to admit, it did look pretty cool.

  Stella kept on talking, “Kate says she still can’t decide whether to get one or not. But we were talking to Louisa Bull—she’s really cool, she’s a fourth former but I know her because she’s in my house—anyway, she has one and it looks so fab and she says it didn’t hurt much at all.” She poked Issie in the tummy and grinned. “You would look so good with one, Issie. So what do you say? Are you in?”

  Issie winced and pulled up her jersey to look at her naked belly button. It was an innie, not an outie, a small, delicate whirl in the middle of her olive-skinned tummy. She imagined the piercing gun clamped over it, driving a steel ring through her skin.

  “I don’t know…” Issie muttered. “Mum wouldn’t be too keen on it…”

  “It’s OK,” Stella insisted. “I asked Penny and she said she would take us, so you don’t need to ask your mum.”

  Penny was Stella’s older sister. She was much older than Stella and was in her first year at university. The two sisters both had the same curly red hair and freckles—and the same naughty streak too. If anything, Penny was even wilder than her little sister. And Stella always wanted to do what Penny did. Penny already had her belly button pierced—and her tongue!

  “Come on,” Stella was whining. “Your mum won’t even notice. We’ll all do it together. It’ll be fun.”

  Issie took her hand off her stomach and tucked the thin cotton of her school shirt back into her skirt, smoothing it down flat. She had always wanted to get a piercing. Even plain pierced ears weren’t allowed at Chevalier Point High. But a belly button? Who would ever notice it underneath your school uniform?

  OK, so her mum would kill her if she found out. But who cared? Besides, why shouldn’t she have some fun and do something exciting for once? She was so tired of feeling this way, tired of being numb and depressed. Maybe Stella was right. It would look pretty cool to have a belly-button ring like Kallista.

  “What sort of rings are there?” Issie sighed.

  Stella let out a squeal of delight. “Yay! I knew you’d say yes! This is going to be great! There’s plain silver ones, or you can get ones with a stone in them,” Stella continued. “I was thinking of getting maybe a purple stone like an amethyst but you can get whatever you want.” She looked at Issie’s screwed-up face. “I swear. Honestly. It doesn’t hurt!”

  A couple of hours later, Issie wished she had never taken Stella’s word for it. There she was, lying flat on her back on the thin white chemist shop bunk bed, looking down at her skin stretched taut under the clamp of the piercing gun. There was a felt-tip dot on her belly button where the ring would pierce the skin, and a woman with too much make-up on was busily daubing her tummy with antiseptic solution.

  “Now take a deep breath and breathe out as the needle goes through,” the woman instructed. Issie looked away from the gun, trying not to think about it as she sucked in a deep lung full of air. As she breathed out she felt a sudden rush of pain.

  “There. You’re done.” The woman smiled. Issie looked down at her newly decorated navel. It was red and tingling. “You’ll have to keep it very clean for the first couple of weeks while it heals, and whatever you do, don’t take the ring out,” the woman instructed, passing Issie some antiseptic to take home with her. “And try not to wear clothes that rub on it and irritate the site.”

  “I can’t believe you two went through with it!” Kate shrieked as the three girls came out of the chemist into the bright sunlight to meet her.

  “What? I can’t believe you chickened out on us!” Stella teased her back.

  “I didn’t!” Kate insisted. “I never said I would get one. I only said I was thinking about it.” She leaned down and peered closer at Issie’s red, swollen belly button and pulled a face. “Eugh! Does it hurt?”

  Issie looked pleased with Kate’s reaction. “Not really,” she lied. In fact, she could feel her tummy button all hot and throbbing where the ring had gone through.

  “You know,” Stella began, “when Louisa Bull had hers done she told me that it went all infected and she woke up one morning and, oh, this is really going to gross you out, her mum had to take her to hospital because—”

  “Stella! I thought you told me that Louisa’s belly button looked really cool?” Issie yelped. “What happened?”

  “Nothing happened!” Penny snapped. “Stella! She didn’t go to hospital, she just went to the doctor and he gave her some ointment to put on it and sent her home again. Stop exaggerating and making up horrible stories.”

  Penny pulled up her own t-shirt to show them her belly button. It had a silver ring with a green glass leaf dangling down from it. “Look, I’ve had my piercing for two years now and it’s fine,” she reassured Issie.

  “I was just joking!” Stella insisted, grinning mischievously. “Hey, Issie, let’s go back to your house and try on clothes. I need to find a tank top that will show off my tummy button.”

  The Browns had lived in the same house ever since Issie was little. It was a two-storey wooden home, surrounded by rambling, overgrown gardens. From Issie’s bedroom upstairs she had a view down over the big back lawn to the grove of trees at the end of the garden.

  The view inside Issie’s bedroom, however, was one big mess. The girls had spent t
he past hour trying on everything in Issie’s wardrobe and the place looked like a stall at a jumble sale. There were pairs of jeans and shoes thrown all over the floor, and the bed was stacked so high with piles of clothes that you could barely see Stella and Kate, who were flopped down in the middle of it all on top of the duvet.

  Issie stepped out of the wardrobe. She had stripped off the light-green pleated skirt and white shirt of her school uniform and was wearing a purple floral crop top and dark blue camouflage pants. She stood in front of the mirror to admire her new look. For once, her skinny boyish figure was working to her advantage. The pants hung down so low on her hips they exposed her stomach, showing off the freshly pierced navel.

  Issie stared at her tummy button. It was still swollen and red, and even though she would never admit it, she was a little worried about what she had done. Stella’s story had scared her. What if the piercing really was turning septic? The skin around the ring did actually look all red and raw and it was hurting a lot more than she had thought it would.

  Issie shrugged off her fears. At least Stella had been right about one thing, she thought, that silver ring did look pretty cool. It suited her, the slim metal circle resting perfectly against her tanned belly.

  Issie was wiggling the ring and gazing at her reflection when she suddenly noticed the other two girls staring at her. Feeling embarrassed to suddenly be the centre of attention, she struck a ridiculous supermodel catwalk pose, pouting and throwing her head back, one hand on her hip, the other raised to blow a kiss to an imaginary camera.

  The two girls fell about on the bed laughing. Stella was snorting so hard she was almost choking and Issie collapsed on to the duvet next to her in a fit of giggles.

  As she lay there panting with laughter she realised this was the first time since the accident that she had been able to forget about Mystic and have some fun.