The Painted Ponies of Partequineus and The Summer of the Kittens (5 page)

“Vanessa?”

Mom!
She thought.
Ohmigosh, I can't let her see me like this.
She jumped back into bed and pulled the sheet and blanket up to cover her tunic. She was badly out of breath, gasping for air, her eyes wild.

The bedroom door opened. “Vanessa, what's wrong?” her mother called out. “I heard you screaming.” She hurried into the room and sat down on the edge of the bed. She put her hand on Vanessa's forehead. “Are you sick? What's the matter?”

“Just a nightmare,” Vanessa managed to blurt out. “I'm okay now.”

“Are you sure?” her mother said. “It feels like you have a fever.” She reached for the sheet to pull it down, and Vanessa clutched it tightly around her neck to hide the tunic.

“I'm
okay
, Mom, really!” she said desperately.

“I think we'd better go to see Doctor Patterson,” Vanessa's Mom said. “You haven't been yourself at all lately.”

“I'm not sick.”

“You've been acting very strangely.”

Vanessa twisted her head away and stared at the wall. A long moment passed. Then she sighed and slowly turned back. She looked her mother straight in the eye.

“Mom,” she said, “what if I told you I've been to a strange and impossible place? Somewhere far away, where everything is different.”

“Different how?” her mother said.

“Where the sun is red instead of yellow. Where there are three moons in the sky, and where I rode the most beautiful pony in the world, faster than the wind, and where there's a dragon in a cloud that's keeping all the children prisoner, so they can't ever escape.”

Vanessa's Mom smiled gently. “What a wonderful, amazing dream,” she said.

“But it
isn't
a dream. I've been there more than once, too. Three times, in fact.”

“Sometimes dreams can seem very real,” her mother said, “especially the scary kind. So real that they return night after night. Dreams like that often come when you have a fever. We'll see the doctor tomorrow, and maybe he'll have an idea about how to make them go away.”

“But I don't
want
them to go away,” Vanessa said. “What if I could prove to you that Partequineus is a real place?”

“Partequineus?”

“That's what the land is called. Partequineus. It's summer there all year long, and time doesn't work like it does here. You remember old Mrs. Baxter, who sold us this house? Grace? She's there too, only she's my age. And all the boys and girls who live there dress just alike, in short blue and golden tunics that shine with their very own light. I've got one, too. They gave it to me.”

“Sweetheart, you're talking nonsense.”

“No, I'm not! What if I showed you my tunic? Then would you believe me?” She grasped the sheet and blanket, ready to pull them away so her mother could see what she was wearing, and a tiny voice inside her head began to chant, “No, no, no.”

“I want you to stay in the house all day tomorrow,” her mother said softly. “You can sleep late, and I'll call Dr. Patterson for an appointment in the afternoon.”

“All right,” Vanessa said softly. She lay back down and rested her head on the pillow. It was no use. Even if she showed her mother the tunic, which the voice from Partequineus didn't want her to do, it probably wouldn't make any difference. Grownups just didn't believe in mysteries.

“It was only a dream,” her mother repeated.

“If you say so,” Vanessa said. But she knew it wasn't true.

TWELVE

 

The following day was Saturday, and Doctor Patterson didn't have office hours. By Monday Vanessa was able to convince her mother that she felt fine, and hadn't had any more nightmares. She didn't have a fever, and couldn't stay home because she might miss a math quiz or a history test. Vanessa's Mom was still worried, but finally agreed to let her go to school.

On Friday Vanessa found the tunic back in her closet when she returned home at three-thirty. It was glowing more brightly than ever before, and when she put it on, she glowed all over, too. She sat calmly on the edge of her bed, and when the hands of the clock reached four at last, she stood up and walked straight into the purple mist and into the land of Partequineus, where the girls were waiting for her, clustered together anxiously.

“We were afraid you'd never come back,” Christina said.

“I had to,” Vanessa told her. “I want to understand what happened to those ponies I saw by the ocean. Are they really you?”

“Yes,” Kathy said. “There's a spell on us. All night long we wander about Partequineus as painted ponies, and don't become girls again until the sun rises.”

“What about the boys?” Vanessa asked.

“They turn into ponies during the day. We all change at exactly the same time.”

“We can never talk with them, or play with them,” little Janie said. “That's why we're so lonely.”

“But why? Who put the spell on you?”

“Guaryntis did,” Christina said.

“Isn't there some way you can break the spell?” Vanessa asked. “In all the stories I've ever read, there's always some way to do that.”

“There is,” Emma said. “If we can reach the big green forest on the other side of the desert, we'll be free. The forest is called Paximus, and it's ruled by Princess Melisande.”

“A hundred years ago,” Christina said, “there were only three boys and two girls in Partequineus. I was one of them. Princess Melisande went to Guaryntis and pleaded with him to let us go. He didn't want to make the Princess angry, so he promised her that he would lift the spell if any of us decided to go and live in Paximus.”

“Why don't you go there, then?”

“Guaryntis won't let us. He always stops us when we try,” Alyssa said. “You saw what happened when you and Alexander tried to cross the desert.”

“Alexander and I?” Vanessa said in amazement.

“Alexander was the pony you were riding.”

Vanessa was stunned. She sat down on the grass and thought quietly for several minutes, puzzling over what Alyssa had told her. It was hard to believe that the magnificent black and white pony was also the handsome boy she'd met the first time she came to Partequineus.

“There must be some way to escape through the desert,” she said at last.

“Maybe there is,” Christina said. “Maybe you can help us find a way. But first you have to understand what happened here years ago, and how we came to be in this place.”

“It's going to be hard to believe,” Kathy said.

Vanessa laughed. “After what's happened to me so far, I'm ready to believe anything.”

THIRTEEN

 

“Let's go for a ride,” Janie begged.

“Okay,” Christina said. “We'll ride along the beach. Guaryntis doesn't pay any attention to us there, and we can tell Vanessa the whole story.”

She turned her head and whistled softly. Instantly they heard the sound of hoof beats, and seven painted ponies came galloping over the hill. Large and small, they all had saddles on their backs, and bridles and reins, too. They pulled up in a cloud of dust, snorting and pawing the ground, eager to be on their way.

“Climb aboard, everyone,” Christina said. “Smallest girls on the smallest ponies. Let Vanessa go with Alexander.”

The children each selected a pony, and they hoisted themselves up into the saddles. The black and white pony that Vanessa had ridden before approached her and stretched out his head. She touched his mane.

“Alexander?” she said tentatively. “Is that really you?”

The pony reared up and tossed his head, whinnying loudly, then turned so she could put her foot in the stirrup. She mounted up gracefully.

“I can't believe this is happening,” she said.

“It's true,” Christina told her. “Because of the spell, the boys must be ponies all day long, and we girls are ponies every night. That's why we can never talk with each other.”

“But why?” Vanessa asked.

“That's the way Guaryntis wants it to be,” Alyssa said.

“Let's go,” Christina said. “We'll ride down by the water. It's cool and pleasant there. I'll tell you the whole story as we ride.”

The sun hung low in the sky as the seven ponies made their way along the shore of the sea, sometimes wading in the water, sometimes stepping carefully among the driftwood and shells that littered the beach. Vanessa rode between Christina and Grace.

“It all started about two hundred years ago,” Christina said, “although time doesn't mean much here in Partequineus. Here it's always today. But back in the other world, something important happened. A man and his wife came to live in a small town - your town, Vanessa. Their names were Mr. and Mrs. Baker, and they built a pretty little house and settled in to raise a family.”

“That's the house where I grew up,” Grace said, “and where you and your mother are living now.”

“But what they didn't know,” Christina continued, “was that the exact spot where they decided to build was right on the border between
Here
and
Everywhere Else
.”

“
Here
and
Everywhere Else
?” Vanessa echoed.

“That's right. Every mystical kingdom has exactly one place where it intersects with the real world. That's what holds everything in the universe together. But most people don't know that these connections exist.”

“Why not?”

“Because they don't believe,” Grace said. “Adults lose the power to see beyond what their brains tell them must be true. Once people get to be fourteen or fifteen, they lose their sense of wonder.”

“What happened to the Bakers?” Vanessa asked.

“That,” Christina said, “was the beginning of the painted ponies of Partequineus.”

FOURTEEN

 

In time, Mr. and Mrs. Baker had a daughter (Christina said). Her name was Jane. She was a charming little girl, and her parents were very proud of her. She was kind and obedient, and did her chores faithfully, always with a cheerful smile. She never gave her parents any cause to worry.

The thing that Jane loved most in all the world was to go for a ride in Mr. Baker's carriage, pulled by their beautiful golden palomino pony, Daffodil. One day Daffodil gave birth to a foal, and Jane begged to be allowed to take care of the tiny, spirited animal. She named her Sunbeam, and fed her and groomed her and took her out for exercise every day. Sunbeam was a paint, with a glossy white coat decorated with golden patches. Jane loved her very much.

Sadly, when Sunbeam was just six months old, she took sick with a fever and died. Jane was heartbroken. She spent days in her bedroom, crying and pining for her lost friend. Her mother and father didn't know how to console her. They hoped that as the days passed by, she would get over her grief and once again become happy and carefree. But that didn't happen.

One day, a Friday afternoon at four o'clock, Jane sat in her bedroom, thinking about Sunbeam. She began to sing a little song, one that she made up herself.

“Painted pony, painted pony, what a lovely sunny day,” Jane sang. “Painted pony, painted pony, how you love to run and play.”

And Guaryntis, who was out strolling on the other side of the border between
Here
and
Everywhere Else
, heard her singing and poked his head into Jane's bedroom.

Now Guaryntis wasn't a dragon in those days. That happened later, after he grew mean and selfish. When he looked into Jane's bedroom that afternoon, he appeared as a gentle old man with a white beard and kindly brown eyes. And he said, “Hello, Jane. That's a beautiful song you're singing.”

Jane knew she mustn't talk to strangers. She ignored Guaryntis and made up a new verse to her song.

“Painted pony, painted pony, running 'neath the sky of blue. Painted pony, painted pony, how I wish I could be you.”

And the old man's face twisted in an evil, crafty smile. “You can be a pony if you want to,” he said softly.

Jane looked at him in surprise. She became so excited that she forgot the rule about not talking to strangers. “Can I really?” she said. “How?”

“It's easy,” Guaryntis said. “Just take my hand, and we'll go where little girls can be ponies whenever they like.”

Jane pulled back. “I'm not allowed to go anywhere without my mother and father,” she said.

“You can come right back,” Guaryntis said, “any time you want.”

And Jane, who was so sad and lonely over the loss of Sunbeam, stood up and gave her tiny hand to Guaryntis, and the purple mist swirled around them and carried them off to Partequineus.

FIFTEEN