Chapter 9-Ride

Taryn awoke to the gently lightening room. As she rolled upright on her bedding, she heard Sylvie still snoring. Smiling at her tired friend, she carefully got her legs under her and stood up, an extremely tricky process on the mattress. Once she was confident that she had a firm grip on the floor, she tried to softly walk to the backyard. However, the ring of her hooves on the concrete sounded abnormally loud to her ears. Taryn winced at the noise and glanced back at Sylvie, fearful that noise had awakened her friend. Sylvie continued to sleep, her mouth open in a gentle snore. Taryn sighed in relief, a smile again touching her lips. That girl can sleep through anything, she thought.

Slipping through the house as stealthily as she could manage, she made it out to the backyard without mishap. Making her way over to a spot near the back wall, she relieved herself and then crept back to the house.

Today was the day, she mused. Her mother, for the first time in more than twenty years, longer than she was alive, was going outside. Her terrible sickness, which had kept her inside, and then confined to bed, seemed to be losing its battle in her. Yesterday, for the first time in many years, she had moved downstairs with the help of her friends Greg and Anna Mathison. Taryn was extremely grateful that they had helped her, because now she could visit her mother since the upstairs had been denied to her.

As Taryn made her way to the cupboard for a glass, she thought about what she would need to do. Her mom would need warm clothes for the air was extremely chilly, and the light t-shirt she had slept in had done nothing to keep the cold at bay while she was outside. A sweater and a thick coat then, to keep Mom warm. Taryn resolved to have Anna lend her one, as Mary had none of her own after so long.

Pausing to fill her glass with water, Taryn felt doubt creeping up on her. As much as she wished for her mom's happiness, she also didn't want to see her get hurt. This was a terrible risk for her, but Taryn knew it would most likely be the last time they had the opportunity for it. Greg had told them yesterday he had arranged for Ben's uncle to take them in if they hadn't reverted by now.

How ironic, she mused, that I didn't even stop to check to see if I was human this morning. It had seemed the most natural thing in the world to her to wake up as a centaur. A trickle of fear at the thought of remaining a centaur clutched at her mind, but she quickly banished it. Ben was out searching for Roland of the Enchanted Threads, and she knew he wouldn't give up. They would eventually be back to their old selves.

Sylvie came in through the door to the garage, yawning widely. Sylvie grinned at her best friend.

"Morning sleepyhead."

Sylvie groaned. "I've got to pee." She paused a moment to open the back door, then she disappeared outside.

Taryn pulled down the oatmeal holder from its spot in another cupboard, and poured enough to fill two large bowls. Returning the container, she stared unhappily at the bowls. Much larger than a normal human would use, there was no way that they could fit in the microwave. Oh, well. She tried not to sigh as she started the stovetop and searched for the slightly dented kettle her mom had. She found it hiding behind the toaster and pulled it out. Filling it full of water from the sink, she placed it on the glass burner and waited for the water to heat up.

Sylvie came back and stood beside her, watching the kettle with interest.

"Been a long time since we used the kettle." She remarked.

"Yeah. At least a couple of years, I think. Since the microwave busted and we wanted hot chocolate." Taryn replied.

Sylvie nodded, laughing. "Yep. And just after we had finished, the power went out. You were so scared that you had somehow caused the power outage by using the kettle!"

Taryn grimaced at the memory. "You and mom had such a kick out of that. It really wasn't all that funny." She complained.

"Sure it was. I wasn't the one wailing about how she had caused the power to go out!" Sylvie grinned.

Taryn rolled her eyes. Inside, she understood her friend's humor and even shared it. However, pride demanded that she ignore the slight, so she went to the other side of the kitchen to fix her mom's breakfast. Pulling out the special mix the doctors told her to drink, she mixed the package into cold water and soon had an unappetizing looking shake.

Sylvie made a face. "No matter how many times I see that, I still think it's got to taste awful." She shuddered.

Taryn nodded. "Just be glad that you don't have to drink it. Watch the kettle for me while I give this to her, will you?"

Sylvie nodded, but Taryn didn't see as she walked to her mom's room. Inside, she found the light still off, and the soft, steady sound of her mother breathing.  Moving carefully in the dark, she felt along the wall for the switch. Finally locating it, she flipped it over and was rewarded with sudden, bright light banishing the darkness. The figure on the bed threw up a hand to block the light.

"Good Grief, honey. What's with the big wakeup call? Trying to blind your poor mother too?" said Mary jokingly. She pulled herself to an upright position and began rubbing her eyes to clear the sleep sand out of her face.

She looks so fragile. I wonder if this is a good idea at all. Taryn worried. Moving to the small bureau that sat beside her mother's bed, she gently set the mixture down. Stepping back she crossed her arms and stood firm. She watched her mother take the glass with a sigh and a grimace. With several shudders, she downed the foul concoction that had been her breakfast for many years. After wiping her mouth, she passed the cup back to Taryn who took it silently. Smiling encouragement at her mother, she turned to return the cup to the kitchen.

On her way out, she was stopped by her mother's voice. "Honey, if you would, please. Go to the garage and see if you can find a box labeled Mary's Stuff. I know it should be up there somewhere."

Taryn felt confused. She hadn't known about this. "What's in it?" she asked, wanting to satisfy her curiosity.

Her mother gave that irritating smile of hers that showed she knew something she did not. "Just a few things for this afternoon." Mary said.

Intensely curious, Taryn returned to the kitchen. There she found Sylvie already half-way through her bowl of oatmeal, hers sitting nearby. Well, at least one thing's still the same. Sylvie still eats like a horse. Indeed, Sylvie appeared to be shoveling the thick gruel into her mouth as fast as she could.

"Is there anything left in the bowl?" Taryn asked laughing. Sylvie, unable to speak because of the food in her mouth, simply nodded and continued eating. Assuming from her friend that the oatmeal was delicious, she grabbed her spoon and tried her first bite. Apples and cinnamon exploded on her tongue, as well as the wonderful taste of oats. Her eyes widened in shock. She had never imagined that oatmeal could taste this wonderful. It must be from the horse part. Horses love oats, can't seem to get enough of them. Now it seems I can't either! She attacked her bowl with the same gusto as Sylvie, her tail swishing in excitement. When the last of the oatmeal was gone, she felt a vague disappointment, and actually checked the bowl just to be sure.

Setting the bowls in the sink, Taryn washed them and set them on a nearby rack to dry. Using a dishtowel to dry her hands, she carefully refolded the cloth and replaced it back on the oven handle. Sylvie laid the one she had pulled from the drawer next to the sink. The girls then went back out to the garage.

"Come on Sylvie. Give me a hand." Taryn said as she craned her neck, looking up at the rafters. Small sheets of plywood loosely spaced provided shelf space for plastic tubs crammed tightly together. Colored in somber colors of purple, blue, and green, they blended together in the dim light cast by the two lights below. Her questing eyes strained to see the lettering that had been written on their sides in marker.

"What are we looking for?" Sylvie asked as she joined her in looking for that bloody box.

"My mom has a box of her stuff that she wants me to get down." Taryn stated matter-of-factly, still searching. She squinted at on box. Is that what she was looking for?

"Hang on girl." Sylvie said, interrupting her thoughts. "Let's grab a flashlight. We'll be able to make out the labels much easier that way."

The suggestion made good sense, so Taryn grudgingly nodded, wondering why she didn't think of that. Perhaps the change had addled her slightly. It was an unpleasant thought, one that she shied away from like a rogue flame. Unfortunately, that poisonous thought refused to leave. It clung viscously at her mind, making her doubt herself. She quickly shoved that doubt from her face as Sylvie came back from the house with a powerful LED flashlight from the downstairs closet. Switching it on, the powerful beam brilliantly lit the boxes, bringing the dark marks of the labels into clear focus. Taryn scanned the labels as the beam flashed back and forth. Suddenly, she spotted the label she was searching for.

"There!" she cried, pointing at a dark tan box with faded writing on the sign.

"You sure that's it?" asked Sylvie, squinting up at the box. She couldn't seem to make out the writing, although to Taryn it was clear as day.

"Yes I'm sure. There's enough of the marker left for me to make out my mother's name. Now give me a boost and I'll get it."

"Um, Taryn?" Sylvie said, kicking her hoof and flushing a deep red.

Taryn slapped her forehead. "Gah. I forgot!" Flushing in embarrassment she trotted under where the box was. Okay, she thought. This is going to be easy. Rearing slightly gave her an additional four feet of height, and she was suddenly past eye-level with the box. Unfortunately, there was another box on top of the one she needed. How am I going to get this down? She let herself fall to the floor with a thump while she puzzled out the mystery. I guess there's no way around it. She thought. Rearing again, she reached for the box with one hand while she put the other on the thick beam to support herself. She could feel her forelegs paw the air, but she thought she was stable for now. Using the free hand, she slid the top box off fairly easily and grabbed the large tan box. Taryn backed the box towards her, wondering what was in it. When the box was close to the edge, she realized she was going to have to let go of the rafter in order to bring the box down. However, there wouldn't be enough time to grab the box before she fell to her hooves again. Granted, on the floor she could easily reach the rafters with her hands. Still, whatever was in the box could be fragile, and her mother had asked her to bring it to her. It would not do to break whatever was in the box. Sighing, she simply let go of the rafter and let her body land with a jarring thud. Her hindquarters already ached from the unaccustomed exercise she was getting, but it was almost over. Gathering herself, she pushed off with her forelegs and reared back into the air. As she reached the zenith, she snatched the box up and held it close as she fell back to earth.

On the ground, the box looked fairly ordinary, although it was covered in thick dust. This dust could be really bad for her health. I'd better wash the box. Seizing a nearby rag, she began vigorously wiping the box clean of the thick dust. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Sylvie mimic her and come back with an old shirt of hers and start wiping. Between the two of them they soon had the box clean.

"So, what's in it, ya think?" Sylvie asked, looking at the box curiously. Her tail swished idly and her nose was wrinkled in the dust laden air.

"I don't know." She replied, straining to keep from sneezing herself. Though I would really like to know too. However, the only way to end all this wondering was to get the crate to her mom. Grabbing the box by the handles, she carefully lifted the box and walked to the bedroom. Sylvie went just ahead of her to open the door to the garage for her. Nodding her thanks, she almost trotted down the hallway from anxiousness. She could hardly wait to open it.

"Hi, Mom. We found the box." She said eagerly as she set the box near the bed.

Mary brightened considerably. "Good." She smiled. "Open it."

Not needing further prompting, Taryn grabbed at the thick duct tape that held the corner sealed. Sylvie grabbed the other and together they shredded the old tape. Removing the sticky mess from her fingers, she contemptuously tossed the remains in the garbage and hurried back where Sylvie was opening the lid. She felt like a kid opening her first Christmas Present, and if Sylvie's face was any judge, so did she.

Old clothes and coats greeted their eyes as Sylvie tossed the lid aside. Taryn couldn't believe her eyes; it seemed like a cruel joke after all they had gone through. "Wh…what?" she stammered. Lost, she looked into her mother's eyes, which were wide with child-like delight. Confused, she glanced back down at the clothes. Details began to slide into focus. The clothes were in very good condition, and showed very little of the damp and mold that comes from long storage. There was not even a whiff of the usual mustiness, attesting to the quality of the duct tape used to seal the box. Sylvie reached into the box and pulled out a long duster jacket. It was clearly for a woman, because of its small size. However, Taryn thought, it would be just the right size for…"Mom." She blurted. "Are these your old riding clothes?!"

Mary laughed with delight. "Yes dear." She said. "These are my old riding clothes. Back when I was a little older than you and my father owned a ranch a good ways north of here. I had a horse, Starfire." Her face took on a dreamy look and her eyes seemed to stare back in time to when the world was young and adventure was everywhere. "Starfire and I used to ride everywhere together. We explored more of the territory that Pa had than even Old Dave, the ranch hand. We found caves, streams and even a few fossils and his land." Her voice saddened. "One year, during a particularly bad snowstorm, some of the cattle got loose. Normally this wouldn't bother us, but many of the newborn calves went with them. I took Starfire and went after them. The snow blanketed the world in featureless white; gusts blew snow in my face, so I could barely tell where we were going. Drifts tried to drag us down. It wasn't long before I was hopelessly lost, and wishing we had just let the cows freeze to death. I never saw the ice of the river, as it was covered with snow. The first I knew of trouble was when Starfire pitched forward and I tumbled off. The horse had broken through the ice and was in the freezing cold water. I crawled over on my belly to try to save him. I pulled him towards land…" her voice trailed off with a catch. Taryn felt awful.

"He died didn't he." She said quietly. Mary's eyes focused on her. She was shocked to see a tear trickle its way down her cheek.

"Yes. Despite my best efforts, Starfire drowned that day. I was sopping wet and very cold. I wandered back the way I had come, but the storm had obliterated our tracks. I passed out in a snow drift. I woke up in the hospital a week later. My father had gone looking for me when I didn't come home. He found me and took me 'nearly blue with cold', was his exact words. I came home about a month later to find a grave near the river. Pa had found Starfire frozen in the ice a mile downstream and had chopped her out and buried her. I left for college soon after and never returned." She gestured to the clothes. "I…I never went back." A sob seemed to catch in her throat.

Wanting only to comfort her, Taryn threw her arms around her mother and held her gently. Mary sniffled and dabbed away a tear. "Look at me," she gave a choking laugh. "Crying over something that happened more than twenty years ago."

Wanting desperately to change the subject, Taryn cast her mind around, however all she drew was a blank. Mary didn't seem be down long. Gesturing with a briskness that surprised her, Mary indicated she wanted the box brought over to the bed. Sylvie grabbed the handles and brought it over. Setting down with a thump, she stepped back and waited to see what was going on. Mary leaned over with an animation that shocked Taryn. She had never seen her act this way. Mary pulled out the duster and laid it across the bed. Underneath was a battered Stetson hat. She pulled that out as well. "Sylvie, dear, could you help me stand up?" Sylvie obediently went over and held out her hands. Grasping them, Mary pulled herself out of bed and stood on wobbly legs. Taryn almost winced. The disease ravaged legs barely looked like they could barely support the weight of a child, let alone a fully grown woman. Indeed, her mother wobbled as if she was going to buckle any minute. Taryn rushed over and supported her arm as well, feeling the surprising strength in her arms. She must have been standing through sheer will power and nothing else. Sylvie turned around and gently grabbed her by her waist. Taryn felt the feather-light weight of her mother on her back as Sylvie set her down. Sylvie went to the closet and pulled out a heavy shirt that Taryn had never seen before. She carefully pulled it over Mary's head. Then she grabbed a pair of long woolen socks from the door Mary indicated and slid them on. Taryn was unaccustomed to standing still, and she nervously shifted back and forth.

"Honey, stop that." Her mother scolded good-naturedly. She was clinging to the back of Taryn's long hair to keep her balance. "I'm going to fall off if you keep this up."

Taryn stopped immediately. "Sorry Mom." She kept still as Sylvie finished dressing Mary. As the shoes slipped on, the duster was the only thing that remained. Sylvie carefully draped it over Mary's wasted frame and helped her button it up. It was time.

Unsure if this was the right thing to do, Taryn stepped tentatively until she was sure that her mother would not fall off. As her confidence grew, the bolder her step, until she emerged confidently into the back yard. Her mother gasped and flinched at the brightness. Sharp daggers tried to pierce Taryn, but her large body and thick horse hair kept the cold at bay. Her upper body felt the cold only slightly too, but Taryn was too worried to think about why that could be. Her entire focus was on her mother. Mary had flinched from the light and might have fallen off if Sylvie hadn't caught her. Taryn could feel Sylvie next to her as she righted Mary on her back. Once Taryn was sure that her mom had recovered, she began to walk around the yard.

The breathless yells of excitement, quiet so the neighbors wouldn't notice, urged her on. She found herself leaning forward as her mother's excitement grew. The thick hedges began to move past faster and faster as she moved in a circle. The centrifugal force made her lean in a little to the circle as she broke into a trot, and then a canter. Her mother clung tightly, her arms wrapped around Taryn's waist as they moved together. Unexpected joy bubbled up inside. This was amazing. No other time had they been as close as they were now. She was acutely aware of her mom's body as she leaned back or forward, the weak legs that gripped her barrel, the cold hands on her human belly. A wild and free feeling overcame her earlier fears and she let out a laughing whinny of excitement. Her mother's laughter joined hers in a strange and yet beautiful harmony to Taryn's ears.

Too soon, it seemed, the ride came to an end. She felt a strange reluctance as she said, "Mom, it's time for you to go in and rest now."

"Aw, honey. Do we have too?" Mary asked, so much like a kid told to come inside for dinner.

Taryn herself wasn't too sure she wanted it to end either. Riding like that, was something special. Something she had never had the chance to do with her mom before, and like all good things, she never wanted it to end. Still, I don't want her to catch pneumonia or anything ONTOP of what she's got already. "Yes mom." She forced out. "We need to get you back in bed and take your lunch." She kept her face strong, but inside she wanted to run around some more.

"Your right honey. I guess I just got carried away, as you might say." Mary said sadly.

Taryn groaned at the pun, and headed inside the house to the bedroom. Sylvie had been there beside her the whole time. She had kept quiet, perhaps sensing her desperate desire for a special moment with her mother. Now she helped Taryn undress Mary, carefully folding the clothes and duster and replacing them back into the bin. Sliding it to the closet, she closed the door. Tucking the sheets in around her mom, Taryn made sure she was as comfortable as she could before heading to the kitchen to prepare her concoction.

Grabbing the mix from the fridge, she poured some water and stirred the stuff in. The water turned a sludgy brown. Taryn shuddered in remembrance of a taste she had once tried. It had tasted bitter, like tea left to steep too long. Grabbing a plain plastic cup, she poured the foul-smelling stuff into the glass and hurried to her mom's room.

Mary's face scrunched as it always did when she forced the stuff down her throat. And as always, Taryn made sure that she drank the very last drop before she would allow her to do anything else. "Yuck. That stuff gets worse every time I drink it." She complained. Again like always. It had become almost a ritual for them, for Taryn to serve her medicine and for Mary to complain about it. The fact that her spirits were so high, gave her reason to celebrate.

Clearing away the glass, she waited a few minutes for the drug to take effect. Very quickly, her mother slumped in the bed and laid back. Within minutes, she was asleep. Sylvie began tiptoeing out of the room with Taryn on her heels. Glancing back, she watched her mom's sheet-shrouded form rise and fall steadily. "Good night mom." She whispered, while sending a fervent prayer that the medicine would help her beat the disease.

Outside the room, she found Sylvie at the sink, preparing a bowl of oatmeal for each of them. Thankful for her diligence, she went to the sink to wash the cup. Placing it in the dishwasher she looked around.

The small room was just barely big enough for the two of them to squeeze into the main kitchen space. A counter ran along the wall, topped with chipped granite that seemed permanently stained with ink blots. The wooden cabinets stood in a neat row both above the counter, and beneath it. Paneled in thin sheets of some sort of dark wood, they provided a quiet dignity to the kitchen. The overworked refrigerator/freezer unit stood in chrome contrast to the rest of the kitchen, next to the sole window that looked out over the small back yard. A lot of years have passed for me in this house. It disturbed her to think about leaving.

She was interrupted by Sylvie's announcement that lunch was ready. Her friend began vacuuming up the oatmeal, as she moved to where the large bowl was set on the counter. At this rate, she thought glumly, I'm going to have to pick up bags of oatmeal instead of cans. She wondered how she could do so when everyone was sure to notice her species at the supermarket.

Munching on her oatmeal, she chewed on the problem of supplying themselves with food. Yet by the end of the meal, she could come up with no answer.