Read Online Runaway by Dandi Daley Mackall - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Dandi Daley Mackall
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see for myself. “Want me to let the other horses out with Starlight?”
Hank stares after his horse as she kicks up her heels and takes off at a gallop. “I better let Lance and Black out.”
At least he doesn’t call the horse Black Devil. He lets Lancelot out, and the gelding takes off like Starlight did, tossing his mane and twisting his neck.
Then we move to Blackfire’s stall on the other side of the barn.
Hank slips into the stall and unlatches the back door. “This puts him in the same pasture as the others. Stay there. I never know what he’ll do.”
Blackfire doesn’t do anything, not at first. His tail is flat against his rump, and his ears are back. I can almost smell his fear. He waits until Hank is all the way out of the stall. Then he rushes outside at a gallop.
“He’s so beautiful!” I exclaim.
“He is,” Hank agrees. “I just hope I can get him calmed down so we can find a home for him.”
“What if you don’t?”
Hank stares out at the pasture, where Black prances, hooves bouncing as if the ground is made of sponge. “There’s not much you can do when an abused horse won’t come around. We couldn’t sell him. And we couldn’t keep him either. Gram would have to try to find somewhere that could take him and just leave him alone. Wouldn’t be a good life, even if she did find somebody to take him on.”
I’m afraid to keep asking the what-ifs, like what if nobody would take him on?
“Don’t suppose you’re up for mucking stalls?” Hank asks.
I’m pretty sure that means shoveling manure, and I’d much rather watch the horses. “Not today, if you don’t mind. Maybe tomorrow?”
He laughs and goes back to Starlight’s stall.
When he’s out of sight, I sneak through Blackfire’s stall and out to the pasture. Lancelot and Blackfire are grazing in one corner, keeping an eye on Starlight, who stands a few yards off.
Starlight trots toward the two horses. They stop eating and raise their heads to face the mare. When she’s right up on them, they lower their heads and back away. Just a few steps, but they both do it. Then, as if she’s satisfied, Starlight goes right back to where they were grazing just seconds ago.
It’s hard not to think of the mare as a bully, but I try to remember what Winnie said in her e-mail. Horses need this structure. They need to know one horse is in charge. And I think I’m starting to see what she means. Lancelot and Blackfire go back to grazing. Gradually they move closer to Starlight and look more at ease. Instead of gawking around the pasture, they just eat.
I plop down in the grass and watch how the horses communicate with their bodies. Lance and Blackfire seem to know when it’s okay to move past Starlight and when it’s not. When Starlight faces them head-on, they stop or back off. If she turns and looks down, Blackfire strolls past her, unhurried.
I could watch them all day.
Hank finishes the stalls and comes to get me for breakfast. “What are you still doing out here?”
“Just watching,” I answer.
“Funny.” He shields his eyes in a salute as he gazes at the horses. “That’s something Winnie would say.”
When we walk into the kitchen, Kat’s at the computer. She’s back to her red, frizzy hair. This one is definitely a wig—can’t believe I didn’t see it before. Hair color is the only thing fake about this kid, and I’m betting she drops the whole thing before school starts. “Want to hear what Catman says about Kitten?”
“Sure.” I pull up a chair. Popeye and Annie are eating breakfast together. Hank digs through cereal boxes. There’s no sign of Wes, which is fine with me.
Kat reads Catman’s e-mail out loud, and the guy sounds like a hippie in an old movie:
“Fight or flight, man! Those are Kitten’s choices when she’s spooked. So you got to read that cool cat of yours and know she’s scared—before she scratches or runs. If her eyes get big, she’s a scaredy-cat. If she narrows her
Hank stares after his horse as she kicks up her heels and takes off at a gallop. “I better let Lance and Black out.”
At least he doesn’t call the horse Black Devil. He lets Lancelot out, and the gelding takes off like Starlight did, tossing his mane and twisting his neck.
Then we move to Blackfire’s stall on the other side of the barn.
Hank slips into the stall and unlatches the back door. “This puts him in the same pasture as the others. Stay there. I never know what he’ll do.”
Blackfire doesn’t do anything, not at first. His tail is flat against his rump, and his ears are back. I can almost smell his fear. He waits until Hank is all the way out of the stall. Then he rushes outside at a gallop.
“He’s so beautiful!” I exclaim.
“He is,” Hank agrees. “I just hope I can get him calmed down so we can find a home for him.”
“What if you don’t?”
Hank stares out at the pasture, where Black prances, hooves bouncing as if the ground is made of sponge. “There’s not much you can do when an abused horse won’t come around. We couldn’t sell him. And we couldn’t keep him either. Gram would have to try to find somewhere that could take him and just leave him alone. Wouldn’t be a good life, even if she did find somebody to take him on.”
I’m afraid to keep asking the what-ifs, like what if nobody would take him on?
“Don’t suppose you’re up for mucking stalls?” Hank asks.
I’m pretty sure that means shoveling manure, and I’d much rather watch the horses. “Not today, if you don’t mind. Maybe tomorrow?”
He laughs and goes back to Starlight’s stall.
When he’s out of sight, I sneak through Blackfire’s stall and out to the pasture. Lancelot and Blackfire are grazing in one corner, keeping an eye on Starlight, who stands a few yards off.
Starlight trots toward the two horses. They stop eating and raise their heads to face the mare. When she’s right up on them, they lower their heads and back away. Just a few steps, but they both do it. Then, as if she’s satisfied, Starlight goes right back to where they were grazing just seconds ago.
It’s hard not to think of the mare as a bully, but I try to remember what Winnie said in her e-mail. Horses need this structure. They need to know one horse is in charge. And I think I’m starting to see what she means. Lancelot and Blackfire go back to grazing. Gradually they move closer to Starlight and look more at ease. Instead of gawking around the pasture, they just eat.
I plop down in the grass and watch how the horses communicate with their bodies. Lance and Blackfire seem to know when it’s okay to move past Starlight and when it’s not. When Starlight faces them head-on, they stop or back off. If she turns and looks down, Blackfire strolls past her, unhurried.
I could watch them all day.
Hank finishes the stalls and comes to get me for breakfast. “What are you still doing out here?”
“Just watching,” I answer.
“Funny.” He shields his eyes in a salute as he gazes at the horses. “That’s something Winnie would say.”
When we walk into the kitchen, Kat’s at the computer. She’s back to her red, frizzy hair. This one is definitely a wig—can’t believe I didn’t see it before. Hair color is the only thing fake about this kid, and I’m betting she drops the whole thing before school starts. “Want to hear what Catman says about Kitten?”
“Sure.” I pull up a chair. Popeye and Annie are eating breakfast together. Hank digs through cereal boxes. There’s no sign of Wes, which is fine with me.
Kat reads Catman’s e-mail out loud, and the guy sounds like a hippie in an old movie:
“Fight or flight, man! Those are Kitten’s choices when she’s spooked. So you got to read that cool cat of yours and know she’s scared—before she scratches or runs. If her eyes get big, she’s a scaredy-cat. If she narrows her
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