The Garden of Darkness

THE RAIN WAS depressing. They heard a crash outside the house and ran out only to find that the gutters had fallen. They may have been out-running death, but there seemed to be no way to outrun the persistent rain.

“There’s something fundamentally optimistic about us,” said Clare. “Instead of wintering over here, we’re heading into the heart of winter and following an impromptu map made according to second-hand directions given to us by a man-boy whom we don’t know whether or not to trust.”

“Yeah,” said Jem. “What could go wrong?”

“We’re taking a chance.”

“Everything’s a chance,” said Sarai softly.

But finally the rain stopped.

It was Mirri who discovered the horse. They were almost ready to leave when she ran into the house, wide-eyed and out of breath.

“I found a horse,” she said, panting. “I ran all the way here. It’s in the woods behind the house. It’s big.”

“Let’s go take a look,” said Clare.

“Are you sure it wasn’t a deer?” asked Jem.

“It’s a horse,” said Mirri. “It’s much bigger than a deer.”

“Horses and deer look a little alike,” said Jem.

“It’s a horse. It doesn’t look anything like a deer.”

“All right,” said Jem.

“The horse is going to run away while we’re talking.” Mirri danced from foot to foot with impatience.

“Let’s go,” said Clare.

“Maybe I could have it as a pet,” said Mirri.

“We can’t afford to have pets,” said Jem. “Except Bear.”

“Bear’s not a pet,” said Clare. They all looked at Bear, who was standing behind her. It was true that he did not, in fact, look like anyone’s pet.





THE TREES GLITTERED in the sunlight. They startled a deer as they went through the meadow, and, for a moment, Clare thought it was the horse Mirri claimed to have seen. Then she saw it was too small and too fast and its tail flipped up, like a white flag. Bear wanted to spring after it, but Clare kept him by her side.

It was cold, and their breaths hung in the air. And that’s how Clare first noticed the horse: as a plume of vapor coming and going a little beyond the first of the trees.

“It’s just there,” Clare said. “Before the old-growth forest.”

“I don’t see anything,” said Sarai.

“There,” said Mirri. “Can’t you see him?”

The horse was now a brown blur among the trees.

“We’re going to have to be really quiet,” said Clare. “I’ll see if I can get Bear to herd it towards us.” Clare looked down at Bear, and he looked up at her with his yellow eyes. She was fairly sure that what he would really want to do was eat the horse.

Then the animal moved into clear view. Even at this distance, Clare could see that the beast was an old sway-backed country horse without an ounce of breeding in him. She thought he had probably been used for farm labor from the day he was born. He was like the big shaggy animals she had seen at horse-pulls at country fairs, except that he was now nothing but a walking set of bones in a hide.

“That horse doesn’t look so good,” said Sarai.

“We have to move slowly,” Clare said.

The horse saw them, and its ears pricked forward. Then it took a step towards them.

Clare let Bear go, and he moved in a wide semi-circle in order to get behind the animal. He gave a low growl as he approached.

The horse spooked and leapt sideways with an agility that belied its condition. Clare called Bear back, and he came reluctantly.

“We’re not going to catch it,” said Sarai. She was biting her nails.

“Try clucking,” suggested Jem.

Clare clucked.

“It’s a she,” said Sarai suddenly.

“How do you know?” asked Mirri.

“I looked.”

Mirri looked at Sarai with newfound respect.

“I have an idea,” Mirri then said, “give it some food.”

“Excellent idea,” Clare said to Mirri. “First get a rope. Then get us some of the carrots that we found in that bin.”

(“Not the carrots,” hissed Jem. “We can eat the carrots.”

“Yes, the carrots,” Clare hissed back).

Clare told them to move back into the meadow. After Mirri came with the carrots and the rope, she obediently backed away as well.

“Horses are a girl thing,” Jem said as he went into the meadow with Mirri.

“Coward,” said Clare.

She stood quietly with her arms outstretched and the food in her hands.

The horse looked interested.

Clare gave a sigh, like the sound of a horse breathing.

The horse came a step closer. Then, abruptly, she came to Clare and, lowering her head, began to eat the carrots. Soon there were chunks of carrot and strands of horse saliva on Clare’s hands. The horse breathed on her and then rubbed her huge head on Clare’s shoulder. Clare patted the horse while slipping a rope around her neck.

“Well,” said Jem as they walked back. “It looks like we have a horse. I notice that it’s a wet horse. A smelly horse. But a horse nonetheless.”