Chapter 7 Waterskiis

Once again, I awoke to being poked with a stick.

This time, however, it was a bush doing the poking, not some little kid. I groaned and rolled over. Grr, and just when I was about to discover the gold... Yeah, I had been having some pretty weird dreams.

I got to my feet and shook my mane. Pine needles showered down around me. I need a bath. Do horses take baths? How do they keep clean?

Pushing my way out of the cavern-like space under the pines, I blinked, squinting into the bright sunlight. I glanced around, in case anyone was watching. Nobody was.

Pushing my way out between pine boughs, I noticed that the air felt damp, like it would rain. A few insects buzzed lazily in the occasional patch of sunlight. I shook my mane. It was going to be a hot one.

I trotted alone the concrete footpath, prancing a little. Today just seemed like a good day to live. To enjoy what you have. I snorted loudly. And I have something nobody else has!

I burst into a gallop, the world seeming to blur and slow down, the pavement swirling beneath my hooves, the world almost seeming to turn under me, while I stayed in place. Hey, you know, maybe that's not a bad idea. Who knows how fast I can really go?

I retraced my steps from the day before, running along the lakeside. The patchy sunlight glinted off the waves, and the pale blue shadows of the clouds seemed to challenge me. Suddenly, I had an idea.

I turned onto Navy Pier, bolting around the corner in a streak of silver. I reached the end, and leaped. Gulls squawked underneath my hooves, crying their distress as a wingless creature seemed to fly higher than them.

I arced downward, and struck the water with a huge splash. However, before my hooves could sink, I began to run. At first I seemed to go nowhere, but then, with a determined snort, I dug in, my hindlegs hitting the back of a wave at exactly the right moment. Off I shot, sending up a huge plume of spray behind me.I curved around, toward the huge pile of glittering architecture behind me. For awhile, I ran level with the shore, then sprinted up onto a barge, and then up onto the dock behind it. I slowed to a canter as I reached the roadway, trying to make sure I didn't miss any part of the huge, bustling metropolis around me. The world came back into focus, burning my eyes with a thousand reflections as the sun glanced off cars and buildings. I could hear the taxis honking, and the El trains rumbling, and the pavement beneath my hooves sizzling in the late morning sun. And over it all, thousands upon thousands of human voices, talking, laughing, whispering, crying, shouting, arguing, whimpering and just making noise.

I almost feel as if I want to join in, just to be able to say I made a sound, in all that clamor, I contributed to the noise. That I was there, in those thousands of voices, making their opinions heard. I shook my head. But I'm a horse, and horses don't talk.

Suddenly, a thought struck me. I almost stopped in the middle of the intersection. If I changed once, Why can't I change back? Why haven't I tried?

I bolted back to my little hideaway, ignoring the traffic as the people around me ignored the ants they stepped on every day.

I reached the tiny park, not even out of breath, and glanced quickly around before entering the stand of pines I had been using as home.

I stopped by the rock, suddenly, inexplicably nervous. What will I do if this doesn't work? Will I be able to live as a horse? And what if I DO change? Where will I go? I can't live here. I shook my mane and tail in unison. What matters is that I try. Everything else can wait.

Taking a deep breath, I closed my eyes, and concentrated. I tried to form a picture of myself, imagining what I had looked like in the mirror what seemed like a lifetime, but was in fact only three days ago. This is what people in books did, so I supposed it would work for me. After a moment, I heard an odd rushing noise, felt a tingling in my hooves. I opened one of my eyes a crack, then both of them seemed to spring open of their own accord.

I was surrounded by a cocoon of light, or at least what seemed to be light. If I were to name it, I would call it liquid light. It flowed and shimmered, almost seeming to drip with iridescence. It had a bluish tinge to it, too, like water with a blue light shining through it. I reached out to touch it, wanting to know if it was as wet as it looked, then jerked my hand back, and stared at it. My hand.

I was back.

As the light faded away, I glanced down at my normal, human body, and I wondered; now what?