I don’t want to. Not yet…” Issie was trying hard not to start crying all over again. She looked down at the bed clothes, refusing to meet her mother’s eyes. “Can’t I…can’t we just go home now? I just want it all to be over.”
“I’m sorry, I hope I’m not interrupting?” Doctor Stone entered the room. “Only we really need to get Isadora down to x-ray now.”
Mrs Brown sighed. “Of course. We can talk later when we get home.”
Two hours later, the x-rays had been taken and Doctor Stone’s diagnosis was confirmed: no broken bones, just some bruising, slight concussion and a large swollen lump at the front of her head where the peak of the helmet had connected with the road.
Issie was getting dressed to go home when she heard a knock. “Can we come in?” Stella and Kate stuck their heads around the corner of the door to Issie’s room. Issie gave them a weak smile and the two girls entered the room and sat down beside her bed. Kate looked pale with shock and Stella’s freckled face was flushed hot pink from crying.
“How are Toby and Coco?” Issie wanted to know.
“Well, Toby has gone lame. But it’s nothing serious. The vet thinks it’s a stone bruise from galloping on the gravel but he should be OK in a week or so.” Kate managed a grin.
“And Coco is just fine. She threw a shoe, but she wasn’t hurt,” Stella continued. “In fact, that run is probably the most exercise she’s had in years!”
“If you and Mystic hadn’t caught up with them…” Stella sighed. “Well, it was just the bravest thing I’ve ever seen.” She looked down at her shoes for a moment and then back at Issie. “I mean, I know there’s nothing I can do to bring Mystic back, but Kate and I were thinking…if you wanted to, you could ride Coco and Toby any time you like. We could even work out a roster. You could have Coco on Mondays and Tuesdays and ride Toby on Wednesdays…” She paused as Issie began to cry.
“Oh, Issie, I know it’s not the same as having your own horse but…”
Issie shook her head. “It’s not that. Don’t you see? I don’t want another horse. Not after what happened to Mystic. I couldn’t…I’m never going to ride again.”
That night, home from the hospital, Issie found it hard to sleep. When she did finally close her eyes, the vision of the grey ghost horse returned. There was the pounding of hooves, and then once again the horse appeared and reared to a halt just out of Issie’s reach.
This time she could see his face more clearly. The smouldering charcoal eyes, the velvety nostrils flared with tension. It was Mystic. She was sure of that now. She held out her hand and the horse whinnied gently, lowering his head so that the tip of his nose traced just above the ground as he stepped towards her. Issie knew that the lowered head was part of “horse language”. It was Mystic’s way of saying, “I know you. I trust you. You’re part of my herd.”
She spoke softly to him now, “Easy, Mystic, easy, boy. It’s me, boy…” Her hand reached out and Issie felt a shock of wonder as her fingers touched the silver tussock of his mane. The sensation of the coarse, ropey hair against her skin was totally real. This horse was no ghost! It was as alive as she was. Why, if she only reached out her other hand and grabbed on to his mane, she was sure she could swing herself up on to Mystic’s back and ride him. Ride him just as she had done before the accident had ruined everything. She reached out a hand, but Mystic stepped backwards and pawed fitfully at the ground with his left front hoof .Then he turned again and galloped off, the silver stream of his tail disappearing into the blackness.
“I know it sounds stupid,” Issie told her mum at breakfast the next day, “but it was as if he was real. I mean, I know it must have been a dream, but it didn’t feel like a dream. It was like Mystic was really there, right in front of me. I even touched him!”
“Oh, sweetheart,” Mrs Brown took her daughter’s small, tanned hand in her own, “you had a bad fall and you’ve been through a terrible experience. It’s only natural that you’ll be pretty shaken up for a while. But you have to face up to what has happened. I know it hurts and you miss Mystic. But you’re lucky to be alive.”
Mrs Brown smiled gently as she reached over and poured out a cup of hot chocolate for Issie and a fresh cup of tea for herself. “Your father and I have discussed the best thing to do about this…” Mrs Brown looked down at her cup of tea. She paused, unable to get the words out. “Isadora, I know how much you love horses. And I know what happened wasn’t your fault. You were very brave to do what you did. But, well, your father agreed with me on this…” Mrs Brown finally looked her daughter in the face.
“Issie, I can’t let you have another horse. It was so terrifying when you were in that hospital bed and I didn’t know whether you would even wake up. I couldn’t go through that again. I am your mother and…oh, Issie, you have to understand I can’t risk something else happening to you. I know that you want to get another horse and—”
“No, Mum, you don’t understand!” Issie felt hot tears well in her eyes. How could her mum even think she would want a new horse? All she wanted was Mystic. She wanted her horse to come back to her. How could she explain to her mother that Mystic was more than just some pony to her? That he had been her closest friend, the one soul that she could confide all her secrets to, because he would never betray her. A kindred spirit who she could trust totally and love absolutely. The most important thing in her life. The truth was, she couldn’t explain it to her mother, or to anyone.
Issie took a deep breath and kept her eyes on the bowl of cereal in front of her. “I don’t care anyway.” Issie could feel the tears running down her cheeks; she wanted to stop crying but she couldn’t. She wiped her cheeks roughly with her sleeve and faced her mother. “I said that I was never going to ride again, and I meant it.”
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