Kai, p.5
Kai, page 5
“Goodbye, Kai,” said a familiar voice, startling me.
I turned around. Violet was standing there with Arlo, who was licking one of his own lollipops. “I have to go up north tomorrow, for a horse clinic, with Paris. I know you’re leaving in a few days, so I just wanted to say goodbye.” She was dressed in black jodphurs and a black T-shirt, with black riding boots, and her long dark hair was pulled over her shoulder in a thick ponytail. “Mum drove me over, especially.”
“That was nice of her,” I said, rising to my feet. “And of you,” I add shyly. Frankie stood up too, and went over to the railings, calling out something to Storm, and Arlo wandered off, to join her.
“I’ve been so busy training with Oliver at Pony Club, getting ready for this horse clinic, that I haven’t had as much time as I thought I would to hang out here.”
As much time? It had been no time. I hadn’t seen her once since we’d got back. “How’s it going with Paris, anyway?” I asked politely.
“Not good. And I don’t want to talk about it, if you don’t mind,” she added, just as I was about to ask her another question. “By the way, your phone doesn’t seem to be working. I texted you a few times to say hi, but I haven’t heard anything back.”
“Oh! Sorry about that. It got confiscated. And if you don’t mind I’d rather not talk about that, either.”
“Oh, okay.”
We smiled at one another, awkwardly.
“We better go,” she said, glancing over her shoulder at her mum, who had started the engine of their big black SUV.
“Goodbye, Arlo,” I said, reaching out to shake his hand. “Goodbye, Violet.” I was just wondering whether it would be too weird to shake her hand when she leaned forward and kissed me. It was just one of those social kisses mothers give each other, on the cheek, but I wasn’t expecting it, and so I kind of reared back and ran into the bench.
“Uh, goodbye,” I said, trying to recover my dignity as they turned away to get into the car. “Goodbye!” I yelled, running after them down the drive. They both turned around to wave at me in the back seat. “Goodbye!”
The whole idea of leaving here was making me feel as if I was about to be torn in two, I thought that night, as I lay in bed. On the one hand I was looking forward to living with Mum and Dad and Jingy again, back at home in the city, but on the other hand, this place had started to feel like home too, especially now that Monty had arrived. No one could handle him the way I could, Shannon said. He always looked for me in any group, and kept me within his sights while I was doing my chores. He’d even started whinnying loudly, every morning when I turned up. He seemed to have an instinct, Shannon said, for when I was nearby.
“He loves you like a dog!” Shannon exclaimed the next morning when I arrived. Monty, as usual, was waiting by the paddock gate, his ears pricked eagerly. “I’ve never seen anything like it.”
“Does he?” I bumped my forehead against Monty’s, the way we’d started doing, and scratched the special spot above his eyes. “I’ve never had a dog.” I’d never had so much as a goldfish. I’d had no idea that an animal could make you feel this way – so close, and alive and curious about what the day might bring. It reminded me a little bit of the way I felt with Frankie – alert, and interested, and always loved. But that reminded me I was going to be leaving soon, and so I pushed the whole topic out of my head.
“How did Monty go last night after his training?” I asked Shannon, as she led Jarrah into the ring.
“He was trying really hard, but he found it difficult to keep his balance at times, and he seemed to be shortstepping.”
“Huh,” I said, running my hands over Monty’s head, and then down his neck and over his back. I’d noticed that too, I realised, over the last few days, even though I hadn’t quite added it all up yet. If you spend all your spare time watching horses going around and around, the way I had been over the last few months, you get a feel for when a horse’s balance is off, and there was something about Monty that wasn’t working the way it should. As I touched the sides of his neck and shoulders, I realised it was feeling tighter there than it had yesterday, too.
I brushed the area with my fingertips, as I watched Jarrah and Shannon working in the round ring. Monty seemed to be enjoying the attention, so I began massaging him, pressing down on the knots of the muscles in his neck and in his shoulder, until Storm appeared, leading Morning Mist down the drive.
“Dude! You look amazing!”
She was wearing a loose, long white shirt, with green cotton trousers and soft leather boots that came all the way up past her knees. A light green quiver full of arrows was slung across her shoulders, and she was carrying her bow. This was the first time since she moved into town and got a job at the supermarket, so she could buy Morning Mist, that I had seen her fully dressed in the old-style clothes she used to wear.
“What’s the occasion?”
Storm smiled shyly. Her red hair was woven into an intricate plait, I noticed, which was pinned around her head.
“Morning Mist and I are getting ready to compete at the Medieval Faire this summer.”
“Seriously? Dude!” I’d only ever seen her shoot with her bow and arrow once before – firing at an orange on a tree from twenty metres away, but that had been enough to know she was a crack shot.
“So you’re going to be shooting with your bow and arrow and riding at the same time?” That was going to make the degree of difficulty a little harder, I thought. Especially considering she had only just learned how to ride.
“That I am, my dear sir,” she said, smiling serenely. “That I am.”
When Storm talked like this, I’d come to know that she was only a little bit play-acting. To Storm, the idea of honour, and the code of chivalry and all that Knights of the Round Table stuff, was completely real. It was one of the things I particularly liked about her, along with the fact that she genuinely didn’t seem to care if some people – okay, a lot of people – thought she was somewhat odd.
“But what about you?” she asked. “What are your plans for riding your comely steed? I guess that will have to wait now, until your return.”
“Ride who? You mean Monty?” He was relaxing on one foot, sleepily watching me. “Why would I want to ride him?”
Storm and I stared at each other, surprised, as always, by our differences.
“But you felt connected to Morning Mist the first time you saw her, right?” I said, wanting to remind her of what we had in common.
“Aye, that I did. Here! Get away from there!” she said to Mist, who was trying to wipe her nose on the tip of an arrow. “By the way, I talked to Margery, next door,” she said, giving Mist a push, and then turning back to me. “She said Monty’s welcome to come and stay with Mist, at her place, anytime, as long as you can cover Monty’s vet bills.”
“Really? That’s amazing. Thanks.” I knew that Shannon had been wondering where she was going to put Monty, if he wasn’t ready to share a paddock with her bigger herd soon.
“I also wanted to tell you I’m here to look after Monty, in the event of an emergency.”
In the event of? The way she talked, sometimes! “Like what kind?”
“Mayhap a bushfire, for example.”
“This area floods, Young Storm, it doesn’t burn,” I laughed. “You know, this region is called the Northern Rivers Region for a reason.”
“Fine, Old Kai. In the event of a flood, then!” she shot back.
It felt good to be back to our usual teasing.
“We’re in drought, so that won’t be necessary, either. But thanks,” I added. “All joking aside, I mean it, Storm. Thank you.”
“Glad to,” Storm muttered. “Gadzooks! Look at the time! I must away!”
I watched as Storm climbed onto Morning Mist, and went galloping off down the narrow lane she and her father had constructed out of old wooden fence posts, down one side of the arena.
“It’s great to have a fallback plan,” I said to Jingy that evening, as we were making dinner. “I don’t know why I don’t feel more relieved.”
“Because you know that Monty needs you,” said Jingy, picking out a lychee from the box we’d bought that morning at the Farmers’ Markets, to have with ice cream for dessert. Dad, who is a gardener, hadn’t been able to get over all the things you can grow up here, and he’d had to be physically restrained this morning from buying every kind of exotic flower and food available.
“Monty will be fine,” I told Jingy firmly. “Frankie’s promised to give him his special shoulder massages, and Storm said if he goes to stay with Margery she’ll spend time with him whenever she can.”
“Great!” Jingy was smiling at me brightly, as though she was laying down a dare.
“What?” I said, putting down my lychee. They were slimy and pale looking once you’d peeled them, I realised. Like eyeballs.
“I’m just surprised you feel okay about leaving him, when he’s become so attached to you.”
“I feel sick about it as a matter of fact!” I cried, throwing down my peeler. “And if you think I felt okay about leaving you, to come up here, you’re wrong about that, too! I felt terrible about it! And I feel terrible now to be leaving here. And I feel especially, especially terrible about leaving Monty!”
“It will be all right, Kai, I promise,” Jingy soothed, patting my back until I shrugged her off.
“What did you do to Monty?” asked Shannon the next morning. She had been working him in the round yard as usual – circling him one way, and then the other, but today she was even managing to get him into a canter.
“Nothing. I mean, I groomed him and gave him that extra treatment, like you said.”
“But look! He isn’t scrambling to find his balance any more.”
I watched closely as he went around the other way. He was upright and relaxed now, as he moved, and his strides were even and matched in tempo. His shoulder muscles had a nice wobble, and the underside of his neck now wobbled softly, too. I grinned. “The massage I gave him yesterday worked, I guess. We noticed he wasn’t balanced, remember? And so I gave him a little rub.”
“You certainly did,” said Shannon, obviously impressed. “You know who else has been having balance issues lately?” She nodded at the track, where Storm was galloping Morning Mist up and down the special alleyway again. This morning, though, I realised, with a thrill of alarm, she was going to be shooting at a target – if that bow and arrow she was pulling up and drawing, as she cantered past, was anything to go by.
“The dratted pinweasel!” Storm cried, as an arrow went thwacking off the side of the target.
“That’s the fourth time she’s missed this morning,” said Shannon.
“It’s got to be her balance,” I agreed. “She’s a good shot on the ground, and Morning Mist has the best gait of any horse I know, but something’s misfiring.”
“Can I check out what’s happening with Morning Mist?” I asked Storm once she’d finished and was walking Morning Mist around, trying to cool her down. Storm was wearing a cloth waistcoat over a homemade bodice today, and jeans, which made her look like a strange cross between a normal teenager and an actor from Game of Thrones. “I noticed she had a shortened step out there.” I began delicately smoothing my hands over the spot between Morning Mist’s ears. “Look, it’s sore,” I said, as she pulled back, hesitating, before pressing her head against my hands again. “If it’s the poll that’s sore, there’ll be another body part that’s sore,” I said, as I ran my hands over her hindquarters and lower back. “Have you noticed her leaning, or putting more weight on her other feet?”
“I have as a matter of fact,” said Storm. “Her right hind leg.”
“Bingo,” I said, as I lifted it. A farmer’s friend, which is a tiny, stiff little thorn, had implanted itself high up on the inside of her leg, in the delicate flesh underneath her tail. “This would have been bothering her, with every step she took.”
“Gadzooks, that keeps happening!” cried Storm. “Those bushes are in Margery’s paddocks, everywhere!”
“You need to keep an eye on this and make sure it doesn’t happen often, or else she’s going to get really uncomfortable. She might even start bracing herself and walking stiffly to compensate.”
“Thanks, Kai. You really are amazing. Isn’t he, Mist? Hm?” She laughed as Mist nuzzled her. “Perchance you’re going to miss it around here, huh?” said Storm, as I gave Morning Mist a final going over.
“You could say that.” This was my last morning at Pocket of Dreams, and it was hard to believe that it would be months, at least, before I would see any of these people, or any of these horses, again.
She punched me lightly on the arm before walking away. “I’ll see you anon.”
“I’ll see you anon,” I replied. Which just goes to show how strange I was feeling, because that is not something I would ever say normally in a million years.
“So you’re just going to say goodbye to Monty in the morning and leave it at that?” said Jingy that evening, once we’d turned out the light. I was on the floor of my room in my sleeping bag, and Jingy was in my bed.
“What else am I supposed to do, Jingy? We live in the city, remember?”
“Honestly, I don’t know what you would do without me.” Even in the dark I could tell she was smiling, her smuggest of smug smiles, as she proceeded to outline her plan.
“But won’t that be cruel, to separate them?” I protested, once she’d finished. “What about Monty’s special relationship with Jarrah? The only reason I manage to convince Shannon to take them both from the sanctuary was because they shouldn’t be separated.”
We’d turned the bedroom light back on and were sitting up on my bed, cross-legged and facing each other.
“Shannon says Jarrah’s the strong one, and he’ll be fine being separated from Monty, especially as she’ll be working with him every day. It’s Monty that she’s worried about, because he’s formed such a strong attachment to you.”
My skin was tingling, and my head felt as though it was about to explode with excitement, but I still wasn’t sure about this.
“I overheard her talking to Mum and Dad today, too. It’s all about pressure,” she said, putting a finger to her cheek the way Shannon did when she was thinking. She imitated Shannon’s tone: “With a horse like Monty, it’s keeping him open and receptive, not scared and running, that’s the key, and Kai can do that. He’s got the ability to just be with him, and not expect anything of him, or push him in any way. It’s wonderful.”
“But how would we get him to Sydney?” I didn’t want to get too excited about this plan until I was sure it could work.
“Shannon says she has contacts she uses at horse-friendly caravan parks. She can phone ahead and make sure they’re all prepared for us.”
“And you think Mum and Dad are prepared to learn how to drive a horse float? And be two days late getting home?”
“Mum and Dad would do anything for us, you know that.”
I was silent for a moment, thinking about how that was true.
“But Jingy,” I said, scratching my head. I so badly wanted to do this. I so badly wanted to believe it could work out. “Who could possibly have a spot for a horse, close to our house, in the middle of the city?”
“Not only that, but who is also a famous horse whisperer, who Shannon says will be able to teach you loads?”
“It’s like a miracle,” I whispered.
“Yes! That’s exactly what this is! A miracle. That’s how I know that it’s meant to be.”
That, right there, was a warning sign.
“Well, okay, who is it then?” I asked, grabbing her phone, my fingers at the ready to start googling. Jingy is a big fan of Signs, and things that are Meant To Be, and the minute she starts saying stuff like that my antennae go up.
“That’s for me to know,” said Jingy, her eyes gleaming mysteriously. “I’m handling that side of things and I’m not ready to share it yet.”
“Jingy . . .” I felt a familiar prickle of anxiety down my back.
“I want you to leave this part up to me. That’s what I keep telling Mum and Dad. You have to trust me.”
I looked at her through narrowed eyes, thinking of all the times Jingy’s great plans have gone spectacularly wrong. There was the home perm with blonde highlights she gave me for my first day of Primary School. Dad had wound up just shaving it all off, so I went to school looking like a soldier with a buzz cut, instead of a hippy surfie, which had been my dream. Then there was the school musical she’d starred in last Christmas, when she decided at the last minute to perform her own stunt landing from a balcony, and wound up on crutches.
“Do you really think we can pull this off?” I said, willing her to be realistic. And by we, of course, I meant Jingy.
“Would it make you happy?”
Jingy was looking at me with her head tilted to one side. I knew that I didn’t have to explain how I was feeling, because she already understood.
Horse needed, the sign sticky-taped to the huge double wooden doors said.
“See, I told you!” crowed Jingy, as she knocked.
Even though we were only a few blocks from our house, I’d somehow never noticed that there was an old stable here.
“Come in!” a man’s voice called out.
The door swung open on giant hinges, revealing a high and airy passageway. Board and training available for one horse, said another sign stuck to the wall. To keep an old horse company.
“I wonder if that’s the old horse?” giggled Jingy, as an old man appeared around the corner, walking slowly towards us, dressed in neat blue jeans and a tweed cap.
“I’m Jingy and this is Kai,” said Jingy, smiling sweetly. She had tied a big bow around her ponytail this morning, and she looked deceptively angelic.
“You’re the young lady who got in touch with me!”
“And this is Kai, my little brother.”
