(copyright 2002 Camille LaGuire, all rights reserved)
Morning was different than the day before. There was nothing more than a breeze, and few clouds, yet the threat of the hurricane hung over everything. There was a nervousness in the air. Even King seemed to catch on to it. He trotted out with big strides, covering ground quickly. Lysette did not hold him back, but she wished he would calm down.
They passed more houses here, and the people were madly hammering plywood over their windows, and gathering anything from the yards that the wind could pick up and toss. Lysette thought of what the weather man had said about wind. It had enough force to make anything deadly. It could drive simple straw through a steel post.
Even though they must have been out of the main evacuation area by now, people were packing things into cars. Some folks were not taking chances.
The cars passed her on the road regularly, going faster. King hated it. The dust and gravel kicked up by the cars was the least of it. There was noise and speed, and he did not know the area. Lysette leaned forward to pat him, and he jumped, his hooves clattering on the packed earth. It was time to slow down.
She pulled him up and dismounted. He immediately rubbed his face against her, nearly knocking her over.
"Whatsa matter, you big lug? Flies in your eyes?"
In answer, he wiped his face across her stomach, chest and chin, shoving her backwards until she stumbled into the ditch.
"I'm not a washcloth," she replied. She led him to a patch of grass to graze for a bit. At first he snatched irritably at the grass, but eventually he began to settle down. Momma's car pulled up and she jumped out quickly.
"Are you okay?" Momma was worried.
"Everything's fine. King just got a little nervous, so I stopped to calm him down."
"Wise child," said Momma, but then she frowned. "How nervous?"
"He was just twitching his ears."
"Oh." Momma headed back to the car to get the bucket and some water.
"Oh, and he's getting dust in his eyes," added Lysette.
Momma nodded and she wet a sponge to wipe his eyes and nose with. King settled down completely under the attention. Lysette removed his saddle and brushed him.
"Well, we're mostly there," said Momma. "The only thing that worries me yet is that four mile stretch of highway."
"At least it will be paved. No dust."
"Yes, but there will be lots more traffic, and it will be harder for me to stick close to you."
"We'll be careful. We'll walk the whole way." She wondered how long it would take to walk four miles. "How much time have we got?"
"The radio says it will make landfall this evening, so we've got part of this afternoon."
"Where's it hitting?"
"Right on top of our house. Where else?"
Momma picked up the flywipe and applied more to King to replace what she had washed off. Lysette saddled him carefully. Why was she scared? Things were going well. They were almost to Uncle Jeb's.
Sure, things could go wrong, but that was not what scared her. It was those high clouds she could see to the south. She felt like they were following her.
* * *
Unfortunately, the traffic just seemed to get worse. Sometimes it stopped altogether. It was getting harder and harder for Momma to keep close. Lysette rode past her for the fifth time, and Momma leaned out.
"I'm almost out of gas, honey," she said. "I'm going to go on ahead and get some more. You be careful, and I'll meet you at the Burger Maker up ahead. Okay?"
"Yes, Momma."
Lysette rode on, but after a bit the traffic speeded up and Momma passed her again, waving and pointing ahead toward the Burger Maker restaurant. Lysette nodded and kept riding.
The problem came only moments later. There was an intersection ahead. It was just a side road, but cars were lined up on it, trying to get onto the highway. It looked like the cars were bumper to bumper. She was not sure she would be able to get across. She stood up in stirrups and looked for Momma's car. It was not in sight. If she could not get across, how could she let Momma know where she was?
Maybe the traffic would stop completely for a minute, and she could get through. As she pulled King to the corner, the traffic was moving. It was a steady stream of cars, trucks and vans, as far back as she could see. When they did stop, they pulled so close together, that a horse could not get through. And they started up again so quickly, she would not have felt safe trying it.
She rode back and forth for a minute, looking for a place to cross. It made King nervous. She stopped and stroked his neck. He was getting sweaty. He would need water soon.
"Over here, darlin'!"
Lysette looked up to see a huge red pickup truck had stopped, blocking all traffic. A skinny old guy in a straw cowboy hat leaned out the window. "You can cross here," he said. "Nobody's gonna get past me."
"Thanks!" called Lysette, and she urged King carefully across the road. The car in front of the truck had pulled well ahead, and there was plenty of room. She watched for cars that might try to pass, but none did. Then, just as she got across, somebody laid on their horn with a long loud blast.
King seemed to explode. He wheeled around, fighting her reins, feet lashing in all directions, blowing and snorting in fear. Lysette held him in, and after a moment he stopped, quivering, in the ditch. The traffic had moved on. There was no way to tell what idiot had honked.
Lysette turned King back to the north and started a slow and easy walk, talking to him and patting his neck. He seemed calmer, but now she had butterflies. She had pulled so hard on the reins, his jaw must be bruised. Poor King. She would have to be careful.
"We're doing this for you, King," she said. "Just cooperate a little longer."
There was some grass, so she reined him to the side to graze a few bites. She gave him a hug, and when both of them seemed to be breathing normally, she moved on.
By this time the traffic was so heavy, it hardly moved. She passed car after car. They seemed full of sweaty, frightened people. Well, not all frightened, and some of the cars were air-conditioned. There was a couple in a little red convertible.
"Where you going?" called the woman, who sounded a little worried.
"To shelter," called Lysette back. The woman nodded. They both waved.
"Ride 'em, cowboy!" said the man, which Lysette interpreted to mean "good luck."
Then she rode by a van where three little kids pressed against the window to see the horse. She smiled and waved at them.
King's ears began to twitch as the traffic made more noise. Lysette shortened her reins to calm him, and stroked his neck, but even as she did so, she leaned too far over. King started to step sideways.
Then there was the sound of tires skidding on gravel behind them, and King was off like a thunder. Lysette was no longer in the saddle, but in the air above him, and beside him. She grabbed his thick heavy mane, and her whole body swung out sideways. Her feet brushed against metal. The white Buick which had frightened King was on the shoulder, driving alongside. It was trying to pass the other cars. It didn't stop, although it slowed as it came close enough hit her.
She couldn't think about the jerk in the car, though. King was in a panic, and even though her weight slowed him down, he was nowhere near stopping. Her feet dragged and banged along the ground, and she felt his hooves knock into her boots. His legs started to tangle with hers. She was afraid he would trip, but all she could do was talk to him in a low voice.
"Hhhoooooo, boy. It's all right. It's all right, sweety...." Her voice was shaking, and it wasn't just because she was being dragged along the rough ground. Thank god she had insisted on keeping his long thick mane, even though Momma had wanted to cut it to keep King cool. She tried to put her feet down to slow him further, but his hooves kicked her, and she nearly let go.
Then a force drove her foot into the ground, and she realized he had stepped on her foot. He was stepping on the bottom of her foot, driving the top into the ground. It hurt, but she almost didn't feel the pain, because the simple force of his weight was so strong, her mind wasn't believing what it was feeling. The shock of it made her let go.
"Noooooo!"
Lysette started crying before she hit the ground. Now she'd never catch him. Her foot must be broken, and she wouldn't even be able to get up. He was lost for good. It was over. All over. She would never save him, and he would be lost in the storm.
She lay face down in the gravel, her hands, her arms, her face, her stomach all skinned and sore. She started sobbing like...like she had been stopping herself from ever since Sunday night when she had realized the danger.
She heard the sound of a car pulling onto the gravel again, and she was suddenly angry. If it hadn't been for that jerk, she'd still have King. She leapt to her feet, leaning on her left foot, but not caring if the right hurt.
She was ready to tear the fender off that car, but of course, it wasn't the same car. It was that little red convertible that she had passed earlier. The couple inside jumped right over the sides, not bothering with the doors, even though they were both pretty short. They ran to Lysette.
"Are you okay?" asked the woman, while the man cupped his hands around his mouth to curse at the distant white Buick.
"I'm...I'm...." Lysette was shaking, and now crying again, this time not so hard, but she couldn't stop. "I'm okay, but my horse got away. He's gonna die in the storm."
"Stay right here," said the woman, and she sprinted off in the direction King had bolted.
"Where are you going?" shouted the man.
"To catch the horse!"
"You're going the wrong way! He went between those two buildings!" The woman grinned brilliantly and changed direction. The man scowled and shook his head. He turned to Lysette.
"You look pretty skinned up, kiddo. Can you walk?"
Lysette slowly put her weight on her right foot, wincing in anticipation of the painful twinge. She didn't feel one, though. Her foot felt weird, a little sore, but mostly hot.
"I think it's okay," she said in surprise. "I can walk."
Well, she could hobble, anyway.
Just then another car stopped, and an older woman jumped out. She had a large fast food drink cup and she rushed over to Lysette.
"Put this on it, honey," she said, and she rushed back to the car, which was starting to pull away. The cup was full of ice. Since she had her boots on, and she really didn't feel like pulling them off, she put the ice against her skinned hands. Then she started to hobble after King and the woman.
"Wait a minute," said the guy, shaking his head. "Two tons of horse flesh just tromped on your foot. It's broken."
"That two tons of horse flesh is named King, and he's the only thing my Momma and I've got!" Lysette's voice cracked, and she thought she'd cry again, but she was too angry and tired.
"Don't worry," said the guy. "Mindy'll find him."
"A horse that size only weighs about 750 pounds," she said.
"Oh, is that all? I guess you must feel great, then." He laughed, but then he shook his head. "You aren't going anywhere on that foot."
"Watch me."
Lysette sniffed and continued to hobble. The guy hurried to catch up with her. He was a short guy, a little overweight, but quick. He wore mirror sunglasses, which seemed to go right along with the little red sports car.
"I'm Elliot," he said.
"Lysette," she replied.
"Oh, are you Cajun?"
"No. Well, my dad was, but I hardly knew him."
After they went between the buildings, they came across another street. At least it wasn't busy, but there was no sign of King, or the woman, Mindy.