Deserted (7 page)

As tempting
as the thought was to examine the vial, I really didn’t care enough in the end;
I had something much more important to pursue. I wished my mother well in my
thoughts and continued down the hallway but was stopped momentarily by the
dust-covered nightstand on my left. There was a vase atop it with what used to
be flowers within it, long and drooping in death and curled petals that fell
every so often into the dusty world below. They were far beyond my help but it
wasn’t the flowers that caught my eye, it was the picture frame that bothered
me; it was sitting face down in a pile of dust. I lifted it up and carefully
dusted it off as I put it back in its rightful position, holding back on the
irritation I felt as I did so. It was a photo of me and my father in the corral
the day I received
Ponika
. It was a memory I loved to
look at; just because she didn’t doesn’t give her the right to disgrace it like
she did. I felt that photographs were to always be treasured, as cameras are an
extremely rare gift to receive, but my mother didn’t seem to care about
anything anymore. I took one last longing look at the photo and swore to myself
that I would see him again. I would find Kay and my father, no matter where it
took me.

The
stairs creaked ever so slightly as I inched my way down, straining my eyes in
the denser darkness that permeated the first floor of the house. Even in the
darkness, however, I could see the piles of clothes strewn about the living
room and the dishes that littered the table nearby. With one hand on the
banister I took in my surroundings, somehow still appalled at the state in
which my mother continued to live. The bay window at the front of the house,
opposite our couch was draped in long red curtains; I can’t remember when they
were ever opened last. No wonder it was so dark inside; but how was it outside?
I peeked at the front door and noticed the night slowly getting brighter
through the small circular window near the top of the oaken door to our house.
I cursed myself for my procrastination; I had wanted to leave much earlier than
this. I hoped the townspeople would choose today to laze around indoors for a
while so I could make my escape, although they never did before; they’ve always
been early risers. I never did understand why; what is there to be up so early
for? We have nothing going on here.

I had
swung the door open and headed outside, no longer caring about the noise I may
make; I didn’t have time to be stealthy. It was a chilly morning, as it usually
is; the shadows of the night could chill you to the bone sometimes. I saw some
movement inside a few homes but thankfully no one was outside just yet; maybe I
could still say goodbye, so long as I made it quick. I hurried off to my left
and followed the sands that drifted quietly at my feet. Behind my house was the
perfect vantage point of the Dunes; my private vista. I had really wanted a
moment with it before I left. Once Kay disappeared too, this place was the only
positivity I had left. I loved watching the Dunes, a place that will always
hold a special place in my heart, not just because of the fun me and
Ponika
used to have, but because it was a rare time when my
mother and I seemed to become more than just strangers. I had really wished
that we could have gone back to that…

I had
stood atop the vista, watching the swirling wind dance across the hills of
sand. The storm was raging hard in the Dunes today; it would be a few days
before this one let up, I was sure. Once again, the twisting vortexes
mesmerized me as my thoughts wandered. Each dune my eyes meandered to reminded
me of racing; we would use the dunes as benchmarks to guide our path. I had
quickly become a skilled rider as
Ponika
became my
life; we were inseparable. It was rare that my mother would do anything more
than a quick jaunt around town on her horse but when she felt like racing, she
did it well. Sand would often kick up in our eyes as we went but neither of us
cared; it was freeing being out there. My mother’s defensive shell seemed to
melt away when she was with her horse, although it never lasted long. The Dunes
reminded me of life without my father and the little ways we would find to
bring some peace to our souls. It’s quite apparent that my mother gave up on
finding that now, though. I had felt a small pang of guilt about leaving but it
passed quickly; she never cared when I was around so why would she care if I
wasn’t?

I
started to hear movement in town, jolting me from my thoughts. Looking quickly
behind me I saw a few people emerging from their homes, sleep still evident on
their faces. I once again cursed my slow behaviour and hurried back the way I
came; I still had to wake
Ponika
. I raced across the
sands in front of my house, relieved that no one seemed to notice me. By the
time I reached the corral on the other side of my home my horse was already
wide awake and prancing around his stall. I quickly fed him some oats and
allowed him to gather all the strength he could for the morning; he would need
it.

“C’mon
Ponika
…we have a very important task ahead of us.” I talked
soothingly to him as he grazed from my hands. “You’ll love it…running wild into
the wasteland, no buildings or dunes to stop you. You could outrun the wind.” I
patted his neck as he finished the last few scraps from my other hand.

When he
was finished I packed a few of his things into my backpack and hoisted myself
upon his back, saddle-less as always. I urged him slowly forward and pointed
him towards the sprawling wasteland beside us, the morning’s rays now
illuminating the hard ground before us.

“This is
it,” I said as I leaned into him, “everything is going to change now,
Ponika
.”

With a
quick movement of my heels he was off, charging into the wilds of the desert.
The townspeople, however, heard his hoofs on the hard ground and immediately
watched as I left. I gritted my teeth; who knows what lies my mother would
conjure up about why I left or where I was going. I had forced the thought from
my head and the emotion from my heart; that was my past now and it had no hold
on my future.
Ponika
and I had run wildly through the
wasteland, the wind warm and exhilarating against my skin as I had felt myself
grow nervous. The freedom was exciting but I had never journeyed into the
desert before…well, never on my own, anyway; I did attend a meeting with the
Mediator once, out in the northern wastelands, but that…that was nothing
compared to this. The thought of the entire desert at my fingertips, waiting
for me to explore every last nook and cranny was exciting. The world that Kay
and I always dreamed of could very well still be out here somewhere and I
continue to hold onto the hope that he found that place and that he’s waiting
there for me. I can picture it now: relaxing in the shade of a large tree with
the sound of rushing water in the distance, watching birds fly by and having
all the food he could want at his disposal. Laying his back against the long,
cool grass that grows for as far as the eye can see, not a care in the world.
I’ll find that place, and him with it.

The night had been coming on fast and
the wind’s howling had become ever more incessant. I had fallen asleep while
still standing at one point and knew that I had no choice but to find somewhere
to rest, even if only for a few minutes; my search for the now three missing
boys will have to be put on hold. My heart ached whenever I thought on my
missing horse; things were not supposed to end this way. What were my chances
of ever finding him out in the wasteland, really? With only my two feet to guide
me, I would never be able to catch up with him even if I knew where to go. It
was a defeatist’s attitude, I know…or maybe it was simply a realist’s one?
Either way, I would get nowhere in my journey if I didn’t get some sleep – and
soon. I couldn’t exactly just lie down in the desert, though; I had to keep on
moving until I found somewhere safe to rest. The last time I had seen much of,
well...anything, was hours ago; I had no idea how long I would have to drudge
onwards until finding another suitable spot. Night had already encapsulated the
sky by the time I found this hollow. I knew it was my last chance at finding
some seclusion from the wasteland and I happily took cover within it.

I was surprised at its interior as I
stepped inside. The walls were frigid to the touch and made of a metallic
substance. Fragments of a railing line the sides of the hollow, the majority of
it rusted and bent into various angles. The ground, while mostly covered in
sand, is hard underneath and when the sands shifted I could see the same
metallic structure hidden underfoot. This wasn’t just a random cave within a
mountain, like I had assumed initially; my hollow was actually a tunnel to the
other side. What lay at the end of the path, however, was hard to determine as
the tunnel was steeped in darkness, although a few small shafts of light were
occasionally visible, peeking through some sort of obstruction. I sat near the
entrance, bathing myself in the brightly lit moon and willing my uneasiness
away. I wanted nothing to do with rubble and shadows and I casted shifty
glances towards the other end of the tunnel; its darkness reminded me of the
mineshaft, a place I’d rather forget. I have nowhere else to go, though, and I
find myself whispering comforting words into the quiet night as I start to nod
off. I need to get some rest; here’s hoping this entry won’t be my last.

*

“Here, boy; I believe she belongs to
you.”

I
know
I heard those words, I
just
know
it. I was awoken by a familiar sniffing sound and felt hot
breath on my face. My dreams quickly turned to nightmares as I imagined the
creatures of the night that surely must have gathered around me and I almost
screamed myself awake at the feeling. With fluttering eyes I jerked forward,
still groggy and trying to make sense of the white muzzle that was greeting me.
Another huff of his breath and a brush of his mane to my face and suddenly I
became acutely aware.

“
Ponika
!”
My words echoed throughout my side of the chamber as I
embraced the horse I was sure I would never see again. I hugged his neck
tightly, afraid to let go and he stood as still as he always did; he was well
used to my affections. I nuzzled into him and held back the tears I knew were
about to form; the wasteland is no place for weakness. “I thought you were gone...”
I eked out the words into his neck and patted him.

Then I remembered the voice. It had
sounded so…familiar, yet clouded by my dreams. My heart raced as I whirled my
head around, looking for what surely must have been my father; who else would
know about
Ponika
, let alone know that he was mine?
But I saw nothing. Standing up slowly, I peered into the darkness further into
the tunnel and called out, expecting to hear the voice yet again. I strained to
listen, standing perfectly still as my horse sidled up next to me, but there
was no other sound besides his short huffs and his clicking hooves.
If he’s not further into the tunnel…

I hurried my way towards the
wasteland, hoping to possibly catch a glimpse of the rescuer on his escape but
the desert was as vast and empty as I had left it – at first glance, anyway. I
was about to turn back in when I saw the footprints in the sand; large ones
that were most certainly
not
mine. I called out to my father again as I
chased the retreated steps. I didn’t get far from my little hollow, however,
when the footprints vanished entirely. The wind had become rather violent by
now but the rest of the steps were still visible…how could they just up and
disappear like that?

“Who…who rescued you, boy?” I glanced
back at
Ponika
as though he held all the answers.
“How did they know who I was…or you, for that matter? Was it someone you know?”
Ponika
continued to stare at me with a dopey
expression. But…it
had
to have been someone we know; who else could that
possibly be?

I wandered back towards the entrance
of the tunnel. “But why did he leave? He recognizes us, he knows us.” I stopped
and thought for a moment, biting my lip as I tried to force my emotions back.
“I’m looking for you…why did you leave?” My father wouldn’t have just appeared
momentarily – that didn’t make any sense.

I eventually returned to my spot on
the floor and I stared at the wall opposite me, losing myself in my thoughts
for most of the night. “Did you not want to find me?” I whispered the words and
picked absently at my jeans. “Maybe you don’t want to be found…”

 I stretched myself out on the
cold floor and patted
Ponika’s
muzzle. He didn’t seem
concerned and I tried to take solace in that. I shut my eyes and tried to
sleep. It was a long-going process, but I did manage a short and uncomfortable
nap with the sound of
Ponika’s
hooves nearby; a
constant reminder of his vigilant guard. When I awoke to the sun upon the
horizon, we breakfasted together and I tried to stay positive for the day to
come. I decided to think of what happened last night as a ray of hope.

 “Maybe he couldn’t stay,” I had
said to my horse through mouthfuls of food, “maybe something wouldn’t let him.
I need to know for sure,
Ponika
; he may need my
help.”

While I had eaten my meal voraciously
I was surprised that
Ponika
seemed fairly
disinterested in his. A few stray scraps are all he wanted yet he appeared to
be full of energy; he must have scavenged quite well in my absence, if the
words I heard were nothing more than a dream.