The Garden of Darkness

“We’re all wet,” said Clare. “And we all probably smell, too.”


Once Clare had patted the horse some more and told her what a good horse she was, the animal became completely docile, as if this were what she had been waiting for. She shambled along with them, head thrust out a bit towards the carrots that Clare was carrying.

The rain began again.

Mirri couldn’t stop looking at the horse.

“She’s absolutely beautiful,” she said.

Clare looked back. Every bone showed through fur that was, in places, matted and filthy. In other places, there was no fur at all where the horse had either rubbed it off or it had fallen out. She was knock-kneed and part of her tail was missing.

“Yes,” said Clare. “She absolutely is.”

“Useless, though,” said Jem sadly.

“Nope,” said Clare. “Now all we need is a harness and a cart, and scavenging will become much easier”

“You’re brilliant, Clare,” said Jem.

“Does that mean we’re not going to eat it?” asked Mirri. “Because I don’t want to do that.”

“Can you seriously see one of us walking up to this docile creature and slitting her throat?” asked Clare.

Jem considered. “No. Actually, I can’t.” The rain stopped, and they took the horse into the nearest barn to feed and groom her. She shivered with pleasure as they brushed her fur. Clare named her Sheba. In a corner of the barn, near the horse box, hung an old mildewed harness that would do until they could find something better.

“We’re lucky,” said Clare.

“The whole thing’s already written,” said Sarai and nodded, sagely.

Throughout the exclamations and excitement, Sheba stood and chewed thoughtfully on moldy hay. She wasn’t picky about her food. Clare looked her over. If they needed muscle, Sheba, once she had bulked up, would be able to provide it.

The next day, they found a horse cart in the third barn they searched.

It was time to get the harness onto Sheba and see if they could set her up in the traces. But it wasn’t as easy as they had hoped it would be. Sheba was entirely cooperative and simply stood by the cart. She seemed to be waiting to be hitched up, but the harness was tangled, and it wasn’t easy to figure out where all the bits of leather went.

Sheba became restless as morning passed into afternoon.

They paused for lunch.

“Well, we’re not leaving today,” said Clare.

“It’s just a matter of patience,” said Jem. “It’s not as if we’re trying to get the electricity on again, or restart a nuclear reactor. We’re just trying to hitch up a horse; people did this for hundreds of years. It should be imprinted on our genes.”

Clare made an effort to clean the harness and then, after lunch, they put it on the ground in the pattern that they felt it should go on the horse. This time the process went more smoothly. Mirri gave Sheba treats to keep her still. It took hours to get the harness hitched to the cart, but they were finished before dusk. By the time they were done, however, Mirri’s treats were no longer keeping Sheba still, and she was pawing the ground and shaking her mane.

“That’s about as annoyed as she gets,” said Clare. “Personally, I’d be halfway to the meadow by now.”

“I wonder what she thinks of us,” said Mirri.

“She thinks we’re idiots,” said Clare.

“Now what?” asked Jem.

“Now we take it all off and do it again early tomorrow,” said Clare.

There was a collective groan.

“And today and tomorrow we can load the wagon with what we’ll need,” said Jem.

Tomorrow, the real journey begins, thought Clare. Tomorrow we set out on the final road.

That night Clare lay awake for a while. In the bed next to hers, Jem was awake, too. He propped himself up on an elbow.

“I can’t sleep,” he said.

“Me neither.”

“You can come in with me. If you like.”

Clare sighed. “Yeah. Yeah, I probably would like.” She got out of bed, crossed the room and crawled in with Jem. Bear followed her and lay down at the end of the bed.

“Chaperone,” Jem said.

“Good night,” said Clare softly.

“We’ll be all right,” said Jem.

Clare woke in the middle of the night. Jem was pressed tightly against her, his head buried in her neck. She slipped carefully out of his grasp and went back to her own bed, Bear padding along with her.

She was a little confused, but she couldn’t stay awake long enough to figure out why. Jem was her best friend, and it made sense that they would find comfort in each other. Her love for Michael would have made of the gesture something very different. She would have given it a lot of thought before climbing into Michael’s bed.

She went back to sleep easily now. Jem had said it, and, for the moment, she believed it—everything was going to be all right.





CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO





RAMAH