Abandoned (15 page)

“That’s right, Trooper,” said Lauren in
a thin voice. “That’s what you do.” She reached out and with
phantom-like fingers pushed back the latch on his stall. The door
swung open.

“Come on,” she said and holding his
forelock, she led him to the next stall. She could feel the
darkness trickling into her consciousness, slowly rising higher and
higher. With rubbery, slippery fingers she slid the latch. Trooper
stood looking over her shoulder.

The cow in the stall trotted out of the
barn as soon as her door swung open and the rest of the cows
started to pace in their stalls. They were frightened. Lauren
wasn’t sure if they were scared of her or nervous because of the
change in their routine, but she couldn’t waste any time thinking
about it. Trooper helped her with the next door, and they had just
begun to move to another stall when Lauren remembered. The chickens
were at the far end of the barn and she and Trooper were moving
away from them.

“I’ll be right back,” she whispered to
Trooper and stumbled toward the end of the barn. The darkness was
coming fast now. She felt the bar against the door and pushed it up
as hard as she could. The door swung open and Lauren stopped to
rest against the doorjamb.

“Just a few more,” she told herself as
she breathed heavily. “Just a few more stalls.”

She felt something touch her back and
turned. Trooper stood behind her. Twisting her clumsy fingers in
his mane she leaned on his shoulder as she staggered to the
remaining stalls. Lauren reached for the next latch but Trooper was
there ahead of her with eager lips. Gratefully she leaned on him as
the cow galloped out of the barn, her tail in the air and her udder
swinging beneath her. Together, Lauren and the horse moved to the
next stall.

Finally all the cows were free. Lauren
crept toward Lightning’s stall, her fingers entwined in Trooper’s
mane. She had just reached out to undo the latch when Lightning
lunged toward Trooper. Trooper jumped away, narrowly missing the
snap of Lightning’s teeth. Lauren sprawled across the floor.

Oh no.
Lightning thinks that Trooper’s after his oats,
thought
Lauren.
How am I going to undo his
stall without Trooper’s help?

She inhaled deeply and pushed herself up
with her arms. She staggered toward the stall door and somehow
found the latch. But her fingers wouldn’t work. Lauren fought for a
grip, but her hands hardly existed anymore. When the pale outline
of her fingers looked like they were in the right position, Lauren
jerked the latch back. It moved a tiny bit. No more.

Lauren focused all her strength on the
terrible truth. Lightning was going to die if she couldn’t undo his
latch. He’d be locked up in the barn with no more food or water. No
one knew that Lizzie’s dad was dead and the horse wouldn’t be
discovered until it was too late.

“Trooper, help,” Lauren called to the
young horse, but the thudding in her ears was growing so loud that
she didn’t know if Trooper had even heard her. She held onto the
wall as she staggered into the empty stall next to Lightning’s. At
the rear of the stall, she reached through the bars toward his oat
bucket and fumbled for his halter. Finally her fingers wrapped
around the cheek strap. Her grip was too weak to hold him, but
Lightning didn’t know that and stood obediently.

“Now, Trooper,” she whispered, her
strength almost gone. The halter jerked out of her hands. Lauren
looked up in time to see Lightning chase Trooper from the barn.

As the two dark shapes faded into the
evening, a great sense of relief washed over her. Lightning was
free. They were all free.

I can let
go now
, Lauren thought.
I
don’t have to fight it anymore.

Then she heard them in their pen. The
goats. She had forgotten about the goats. The darkness was almost
overpowering her and the thud in her head was so loud that Lauren
wondered how she had heard them. With all her strength gone, Lauren
crumpled to the floor of the barn.

Trooper
will save them,
she reasoned.
He knows how to undo the latches now.
Then a feeling
of dread washed over her. The goat’s door had a bar, just like the
chicken coop. And Trooper only knew how to open latched doors.

With strength she didn’t know she had,
Lauren crawled out of the empty stall toward the goats’ pen.
Everything was dark now and her heartbeat boomed like thunder in
her ears. A hundred times she wanted to lie down and give up.
I can’t let them die,
she
told herself, over and over.
I can’t
let them die.

After forever, she felt the wood of the
goat’s door beneath her hands. She slid her hands upward against
the wood, not caring about the slivers and splinters that stabbed
into her ghostly palms. There was no pain to feel. When her hands
stopped against a solid form, she knew she had found the bar across
the door. She pushed up with all of her remaining strength. The bar
slid upward in its bracket. But not far enough.

“Trooper, help me,” whispered Lauren.
She didn’t think the gelding was close enough to hear her, but she
couldn’t call any louder. She had nothing left to give. She
collapsed on the floor beside the door.

I’ve
failed
, she realized.
They’re
going to die because I’m not strong enough.

Then she felt him walk toward her, his
hooves vibrating the barn floor with each step. “Trooper, lift it
up,” she whispered. “Watch me and lift it the rest of the way
up.”

Lauren blindly rose to her knees and
felt along the wood above her head until the bar was again in her
hands. She was able to push once more, weakly, ineffectively. And
then she spiralled into darkness.

The last thing she heard was Trooper’s
neigh. It tumbled with her down a long dark tunnel, echoed around
and against her, pushing and buffeting her, on and on and on into
forever.

The neigh came again and again.
Lauren struggled to wake, but her eyes didn’t want to open.
“Trooper,” she whispered and tried to move. Pain shot through her
body and Lauren gasped.

The neigh came again, even more
insistent. “Trooper,” Lauren called and opened her eyes to stare at
the barn ceiling, at morning sunlight streaming through cracks
between the boards, at the broken ladder lying on top of her.

“Trooper, I’m here!” She could hear
Trooper’s neigh come from outside. He sounded so close. “Did you
untie yourself, Trooper? You did, didn’t you? You’re my hero,
Troops!” She shoved the broken boards off and struggled to sit up.
Her back and arm burned as she pushed herself to a sitting
position. Her upper arm was covered with dried blood. A raw, red
gash lay beneath the rust-coloured flakes.

Tiger jumped onto her leg, making her
wince. “But who cares if it hurts a bit, hey, Tiger? I’m alive! I
didn’t die! And it’ll make a cool scar. How many people can say
they’ve fallen from a barn loft?” She stroked the tabby kitten’s
back. “I can’t believe it was all just a dream. I seriously thought
I was dead and had been sent back in time. It all seemed so real!”
A deep purr erupted from the kitten’s scrawny body.

“Where’s Spunky?” Lauren looked around
until she saw the orange kitten’s tail poking out from behind one
of the stall doors.
Lightning’s
stall
, she thought and then reminded herself it had only
been a dream.

“Hey buddy,” she said and carefully
climbed to her feet. Thankfully, nothing seemed to be broken, but
every muscle in her body ached. She bent to pick up Tiger and
slowly straightened, the tabby kitten in her arms. Then she looked
toward the stall. Spunky’s tail was gone.

He must
be inside the stall,
she thought. The stall door hung askew
and a puzzled look crept over Lauren’s face. She was sure the door
had been closed before. She had looked over it to see if there were
bones inside. She caught her breath and looked down the line of
stalls. Could it be?
Maybe it wasn’t
a dream! All the doors are open!

Eagerly, she approached Lightning’s
stall and peered inside. Dust covered the disintegrating straw. An
orange kitten lay in the center of the space, looking up at her
with friendly, playful eyes. But there were no bones. As fast as
her stiff body allowed her to move, Lauren hurried down the line of
stalls. Not one held the remains of a dead animal, horse or cow.
The chicken coop door was open and there was nothing in the coop
but more dust, straw and dirt. They had all been freed to find
their own food and water until rescue came. And she had done it; it
wasn’t a dream!

And the
goats?
Lauren turned toward their pen, afraid of what she
would see.

The door to the goats’ pen stood
open.

“Yes!” she screamed. “Awesome!”

Tiger leaped from her arms and raced to
stand beside Spunky, now washing his paws in front of Lightning’s
stall. “Sorry, Tiger,” said Lauren. “I didn’t mean to scare you.
It’s just that it wasn’t a dream! That means that none of the
animals died! Trooper and I saved them, years and years ago. Long
before you were born.” A wave of euphoria swept over Lauren and she
spun in a circle on the dusty floor, her arms wide. The kittens
looked at her as if she had gone mad. She stopped when she heard
Trooper neigh again.

“Troops,” she yelled and hurried toward
the door. Her muscles were becoming more limber with use, though
she still felt sore in places where she was sure dark bruises were
blooming on her skin. “We did it! We freed them!” She reached the
double doors and peered through the crack between them.

Trooper was a short distance from the
door looking back at Lauren with bright inquisitive eyes. “Hey,
buddy. You’ll have to go for help,” said Lauren. “I can’t open the
door and there’s no other way out. There’s even wire over the
chicken coop windows.”

Trooper neighed and tossed his head. The
lead rope pulled taut against his halter. “Is your rope tangled up,
boy?” she asked. Her heart sank as her eyes focused behind Trooper.
One side of the porch on the old house had collapsed, and the
corner beam Trooper had been tied to was gone. To free himself, he
had pulled back and jerked the rotting wood from its foundation.
Then apparently he had dragged the pillar behind him to the
barn.

“Oh no,” the soft words escaped from her
lips. Trooper might have had the strength to drag the pillar to the
barn door, but he couldn’t pull it all the way home. It would get
caught up somewhere. In fact, it was a miracle he’d made it this
far, there were so much brushy vegetation. And if Trooper couldn’t
go for help, how would they be rescued?

Trooper pulled tight against his halter
rope again scooting the pillar a few more inches toward her.

“Troops, don’t. You’re going to hurt
yourself. You’re going to rub sores on your nose.”

Trooper stepped forward and tugged
again. Lauren could see the bushes shaking behind him as the pillar
scooted a little closer. He was only half a body length away now.
“Stop, Trooper. Stop. You’re hurting yourself.” Lauren begged. She
could see the raw redness under the noseband of his halter now. The
nylon was cutting right into his flesh. She banged on the door,
hoping that the sound would scare him back, but when she peeked
through the crack again, he had only scooted the pillar closer. He
reached his head toward the door, and when he couldn’t quite touch
it, he jerked on the rope again. The pillar slid closer.

“Trooper, your poor nose,” said Lauren.
She tried to poke her fingers through the crack between the two
doors but it was too narrow. Trooper sniffed at her fingers. Then,
when he moved his head away, he bumped the bar with his muzzle. At
first Lauren thought it was an accident. Only when Trooper reached
out and bumped it again, making the bar slide up an inch in its
bracket, did she understand.

I showed him how to unbar the goat’s
door years and years ago. And now he knows how to open barred doors
too, not just the latched ones!

“Trooper, you remember the goats!” she
called, her voice tense with excitement. “You remember how you
opened their door. You are so amazing!” Trooper sniffed at the
board, then put his nose under it and pushed again. It slid up in
the bracket another inch, then fell back down to the bottom.

With a great effort, Lauren controlled
her enthusiasm. “Good boy,” she repeated and pushed the doors
outward. She had to keep a steady pressure against the board so it
wouldn’t slide back down, but not push so hard that Trooper
couldn’t move it up. When he bumped it again and it slid upward,
Lauren was able to keep it in place.

“Do it again, Troops,” she said, her
heart racing. Just two or three more bumps and she would be free.
He pushed again and Lauren saw the dark form of the board slide up
another inch against the brightness of the crack.