I heard it first, a clomping noise I didn’t recognize. But it caught my attention—it sounded strange, unnatural. Rhythmic. So I looked. And there it was, pulling a carriage, just like in some of those pictures.
A person sat in the front part of the carriage, holding straps that apparently steered the horse. But I hardly noticed them. I just saw the horse. Even at a distance, the animal looked big—as tall as the cart it pulled. It could fill a room—a small room, but still. And it just got bigger as it approached. Its four legs moved in sequence, a steady beat. Its color was a golden brown, almost like some of the rocks on Mars at sunrise, glinting color when light hit it through the trees. Its head bobbed; its fibrous tail, so long it almost touched the ground, swished. And if its dark eyes didn’t flash, they did shine, and I could tell it saw me, because its ears flicked toward me when I stood up.
It was just so big, I couldn’t figure out how anyone had decided that sitting on one or making it pull a carri
age or anything was a good idea. I didn’t realize I was moving toward it until the driver tugged gently on the straps, and the animal stopped beside me.
I was looking straight at its shoulder, where the powerful neck met the round body. It smelled weird—warm, earthy, organic. Straps wrapped around its head, chest, body, attaching the carriage to it. The horse didn’t look uncomfortable, but I wondered what it would look like without all the harness, running all on its own. I could feel body heat coming off it.
“Would you like to pet him?” I glanced up, startled, and the driver, a brown-skinned woman with long black hair, smiled at me. “Go ahead and touch him, on the neck there. His name is Bunny.”
I’d just wanted to see a horse. I hadn’t thought this was possible. Raising my hand, flattening it, I almost couldn’t bring myself to touch the animal. But it stood so calmly, it hardly seemed real. My heart raced.
I touched it, briefly, and took my hand away. I thought maybe the thing would jump, and my muscles tensed, ready to run. But it only flicked its ears again, like they were some kind of radio dish, picking up every little noise. I touched it again, resting my whole hand against it, then rubbing down its neck. I didn’t expect the animal to feel so soft. My fingers tingled with the coat’s softness, and the solidness of the body underneath. And it was warm, like an engine.
“You’ve never seen a horse before, have you?” the driver asked.
I glanced at her. “No—I’m from Mars.”
“You’ve really come a long way, then.”
I just kept petting that horse’s neck, over and over again, marveling at the warm, solid, shivery skin. The horse didn’t seem to mind. My grin felt wide and silly, but the driver seemed to be used to people being silly around her horse. Bunny the horse.
Bunny turned his head, just a little, to look back at me with his large side-set eye. I flinched back, not sure what it was doing—but it just shook its head and huffed through wide nostrils. As if I had any doubt that it was alive, really alive.
“Polly! Polly Newton!”
Stanton was calling from down the path, hands cupped around her mouth. Even at this distance I could tell she was glaring at me, furious. Oh, well, I knew this couldn’t last forever. I knew I’d get caught. Not getting caught wasn’t the point—the point was, how long could I go before I got caught?
I’d done what I wanted. I’d seen a horse, and it had been amazing.
“I think I have to go,” I said to the driver, my smile sheepish. “Thank you—thank you very much. Bye, Bunny.”
“No problem. And welcome to Earth.”
She waited for me to step away, then clicked her tongue and murmured a word, and the horse walked on. The steady clomping of its big horny feet sounded friendly now.
I went back toward Stanton to face the inevitable. She waited for me, because why should she make any more effort than absolutely necessary? Fine by me.
“Hi,” I said, smiling like nothing was wrong, and stopping when I got to her.
“You left the group,” she said, and waited.
“Um, yeah. But it’s not like you couldn’t find me,” I said. “What with security cameras everywhere.”
“Would you like to explain why you left the group?”
Not really … I had so many potential reasons I could give her, after all. “I thought seeing a real-live horse would be more educational than just seeing a lot of pictures of them. And since I didn’t see Central Park or a zoo or anything on the schedule, I … I took some initiative. An independent study project.”
Her expression—anger, suppressed—didn’t change. I hadn’t thought my rationalization would actually work. But it sure sounded good. I didn’t let my expression change, blinking back at her innocently.
“Come along, Newton,” she said, and turned, and marched away. I followed, scuffing my feet.
My hands still smelled like the horse’s warm coat.
19
When we left the park, Stanton put me in the very first seat on the bus and made me stay there while she collected everyone else from the museum. When the rest of the group filed onto the bus and saw me, they stared at me and bent heads together, whispering. Again. Apparently, I’d caused a bit of a sensation. Again. Make that a bit of a panic this time. I’d disappeared, I’d gotten lost, I’d fallen down a hole and was hurt or dead and no one would ever see me again. It was Angelyn’s fall all over again, and our field trips were cursed. Or at least I was cursed, and people squeezed as far away from me as they could when they walked past, like they didn’t want to get cursed by association.