strapped in, Fenella discovered, you felt
ready. Ready to travel.
Walker did something and the truck seemed to come
alive. It vibrated in place.
Fenella sat bolt upright.
Walker moved his hands and feet on the controls, and
the truck responded. It moved! They moved! She moved!
Inside the truck, safe within its shell, she was moving.
Moving with such speed.
Fenella caught her breath. Now she understood the
smooth hard surface over the earth. It was to make travel
easier. How clever was that? Of course, of course! You could
not go at high speeds if you were forever encountering rocks
and depressions and other irregularities in the ground!
And there was more! If you were a passenger, you could
look around as you traveled, and, because you were going
so fast, the things you saw and the things you thought kept
changing. What was that gorgeous color in the little boy’s shirt,
over there? It was not found in nature! Why did the people put
the buildings so close to each other? Why were the trees so few
and so small? Now they were on a bridge, going over a river,
and there were ducks! Oh, and look! There was a girl in control
of that other vehicle over there. It was a small red vehicle, and
the girl looked careless, confident, at the wheel.
Now that Fenella was looking for it, there were women in
control of vehicles everywhere. The educated, independent
Minnie Scarborough would have loved seeing that. If she
were here, Minnie would have been driving a vehicle of her
own; Fenella knew it.
Also, there were so many vehicles, small and large. You’d
think they would all crash into each other, but it was as if
they were dancing together to the music that came from the
vehicles themselves. It was not a perfect dance, nor even a
pretty one, and the music of the vehicles was odd and discordant. But it was compelling, urgent, fascinating.
It was lovely!
Fenella clutched the seat on either side of her legs and
leaned forward. She twisted around and looked again at the
things they had passed. All she wanted was to keep moving
and looking, moving and looking.
Walker had to say her name twice before she heard him.
“Fenella? Hey, listen, you’re making me seriously nervous. I
can almost promise we won’t have an accident.”
“Accident?” Fenella craned her neck. “Where? Everything seems all right to me.”
“No, no. I meant—could you please relax, Fenella? I’m a
good driver. Well, pretty good.”
“I’m not afraid. I’m only—I’m looking around.”
“Oh. Okay. Fine. Sorry.”
“I like traveling in this truck,” Fenella said. Some of her
excitement ebbed as she realized she was surely behaving
strangely. She forced herself to lean back. She looked at
Walker and discovered that, at the same moment, he had
glanced at her.
“Your cheeks are all pink.” He smiled—a quick shy
flash—before returning to managing the truck.
Fenella blinked, caught by surprise. Oh.
Oh!
Even in this new world—a world that had fast, glorious
traveling trucks in it, a world where women drove vehicles—
boys still gave girls glances. Quick glances. Quick, wondering glances.
Like that.
She was glad that she had allowed Ryland to be tucked
away in back where he could not see that little glance she
had just received.
Or the one she gave back.
Far too soon, Walker slowed the truck to a stop beside
a small white building. The building bore a large placard
that Fenella read silently to herself: Veterinary Hospital. All
Animals Welcome. The word hospital—the mere reading of
it—reminded her again of Minnie.
Minnie, who had fought Padraig every minute from her
capture to her death. Fought stealthily, cleverly, idiosyncratically.
Fenella curled her hands into fists. The one she would
destroy was Padraig. If she had had this truck in Faerie, she
would have run Padraig down with it. She’d have had Minnie beside her, yelling encouragement. Smash him!
“Fenella?”
Walker was outside the truck. He had opened her
ready. Ready to travel.
Walker did something and the truck seemed to come
alive. It vibrated in place.
Fenella sat bolt upright.
Walker moved his hands and feet on the controls, and
the truck responded. It moved! They moved! She moved!
Inside the truck, safe within its shell, she was moving.
Moving with such speed.
Fenella caught her breath. Now she understood the
smooth hard surface over the earth. It was to make travel
easier. How clever was that? Of course, of course! You could
not go at high speeds if you were forever encountering rocks
and depressions and other irregularities in the ground!
And there was more! If you were a passenger, you could
look around as you traveled, and, because you were going
so fast, the things you saw and the things you thought kept
changing. What was that gorgeous color in the little boy’s shirt,
over there? It was not found in nature! Why did the people put
the buildings so close to each other? Why were the trees so few
and so small? Now they were on a bridge, going over a river,
and there were ducks! Oh, and look! There was a girl in control
of that other vehicle over there. It was a small red vehicle, and
the girl looked careless, confident, at the wheel.
Now that Fenella was looking for it, there were women in
control of vehicles everywhere. The educated, independent
Minnie Scarborough would have loved seeing that. If she
were here, Minnie would have been driving a vehicle of her
own; Fenella knew it.
Also, there were so many vehicles, small and large. You’d
think they would all crash into each other, but it was as if
they were dancing together to the music that came from the
vehicles themselves. It was not a perfect dance, nor even a
pretty one, and the music of the vehicles was odd and discordant. But it was compelling, urgent, fascinating.
It was lovely!
Fenella clutched the seat on either side of her legs and
leaned forward. She twisted around and looked again at the
things they had passed. All she wanted was to keep moving
and looking, moving and looking.
Walker had to say her name twice before she heard him.
“Fenella? Hey, listen, you’re making me seriously nervous. I
can almost promise we won’t have an accident.”
“Accident?” Fenella craned her neck. “Where? Everything seems all right to me.”
“No, no. I meant—could you please relax, Fenella? I’m a
good driver. Well, pretty good.”
“I’m not afraid. I’m only—I’m looking around.”
“Oh. Okay. Fine. Sorry.”
“I like traveling in this truck,” Fenella said. Some of her
excitement ebbed as she realized she was surely behaving
strangely. She forced herself to lean back. She looked at
Walker and discovered that, at the same moment, he had
glanced at her.
“Your cheeks are all pink.” He smiled—a quick shy
flash—before returning to managing the truck.
Fenella blinked, caught by surprise. Oh.
Oh!
Even in this new world—a world that had fast, glorious
traveling trucks in it, a world where women drove vehicles—
boys still gave girls glances. Quick glances. Quick, wondering glances.
Like that.
She was glad that she had allowed Ryland to be tucked
away in back where he could not see that little glance she
had just received.
Or the one she gave back.
Far too soon, Walker slowed the truck to a stop beside
a small white building. The building bore a large placard
that Fenella read silently to herself: Veterinary Hospital. All
Animals Welcome. The word hospital—the mere reading of
it—reminded her again of Minnie.
Minnie, who had fought Padraig every minute from her
capture to her death. Fought stealthily, cleverly, idiosyncratically.
Fenella curled her hands into fists. The one she would
destroy was Padraig. If she had had this truck in Faerie, she
would have run Padraig down with it. She’d have had Minnie beside her, yelling encouragement. Smash him!
“Fenella?”
Walker was outside the truck. He had opened her
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