Up the stairs and there it was, dingier now that she got a good look at it, but still beautiful. The cream of its flanks was closer to a brown, and the gilt trim was mostly rubbed off. Its lips were carved in what she thought was a slight sneer, and Kaye grinned to see it.
Together, they dragged the horse over the floor toward the stairs. Leaning forward, the weight of it was resting on Corny as they eased it down step after step. It barely fit.
Downstairs, Kaye climbed out through the window as Corny pushed it carefully through.
Outside, Corny started to panic. There was no way it was going to fit in the back of the car. Worse, the trunk was filled with boxes of used books and oddball tools.
"Someone is going to see us!"
"We've got to find a way to tie it to the roof."
"Fuck! Fuck! Fuck!" Corny dug around in the trunk of the car and came up with a single bungee cord, two plastic bags, and some twine.
"That string is very thin," Kaye said skeptically.
Corny twisted it around the wooden creature's neck and body and then through the inside of the car. "Get on the other side. Someone's going to see us. Hurry."
He tossed her the twine, and she looped it over the horse and threw it back to him. Corny knotted it.
"Okay. Good enough. We gotta go."
Corny hopped in on his side, and Kaye walked around and got in, wrapping Corny's jacket around her hand to close the door. He took off, stepping on the pedal so hard that the tires screeched as they pulled out.
Kaye was sure that each car that pulled up behind them was going be a cop or that the horse was going to fly off onto the road or hit another car. But they got back in one piece.
Pulling over, they hauled the merry-go-round horse down into the forest and to the stream.
"That thing better like this. I'm going to have splinters for a week."
"It will."
"And I'm going to have to pop the hood of the car back up in the center."
"I know. I would help you if I could touch it, okay?"
"I'm just saying. That thing better like it."
"It will."
They set the legless horse down on the muddy bank, angling it so that it sat relatively upright without their holding it. Kaye looked around for another leaf, and Corny took the knife out of his pocket without being asked.
"'S okay. I'm just going to pick the scab."
He made a face but didn't say anything.
"Kelpie," Kaye said, dropping the leaf into the water, "I have something I think you might like."
The horse rose up from the deep and stared at the crippled merry-go-round horse.
Whinnying, it clopped up onto the shore. "It has no legs," the kelpie said.
"It's beautiful anyway," Kaye said.
The kelpie circled the wooden thing, snuffling appraisingly. "More, I think. Crippled things are always more beautiful. It's the flaw that brings out beauty."
Kaye grinned. She'd done it. She'd actually done it. "So you'll teach me?"
The creature looked at Kaye and shifted, and where it had been now stood a young man, nude and still dripping, hair tangled with rushes. It looked from Kaye to Corny. "She I will teach, but you must make it worth my while if you want me to teach you too. Come and sit near me."