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Authors: Peter H. Riddle

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BOOK: The Painted Ponies of Partequineus and The Summer of the Kittens
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FIVE

 

Six girls stood side by side in the meadow, strangely dressed in identical sleeveless blue tunics that reached less than halfway to their knees. The cloth seemed almost not to touch their bodies, but floated around them in a shimmer of light. Their feet were bare, and Vanessa realized that the air was warm, just like mid summer, not cool and damp as it had been on her walk home from school. She suddenly felt too hot in her jeans and sweater.

The tallest girl stepped forward, smiling. “Hi. I'm Christina. I'm so glad you decided to come, Vanessa. I wasn't sure you would, because I think I scared you when I called to you in your room last week.”

“That was you?” Vanessa said in amazement.

“Uh, huh.”

Another girl stepped forward. “I'm Kathy,” she said. “We don't get visitors here very often.”

“This is a mistake,” a third girl said. “She shouldn't be here.”

Vanessa looked at her closely. She seemed oddly familiar, as if they had met at some time in the past, perhaps only once. “Who are you?” she asked.

“Send her back,” the girl said, ignoring the question. “She'll only get us all in trouble.”

“Oh, give it a rest, Grace,” Christina said. She turned back to Vanessa. “Don't pay any attention to her. She's just mad because you ignored her advice.”

“What advice?” Vanessa said.

“I told you not to choose the back bedroom,” Grace said impatiently, “and you took it anyway. If you're not careful, Guaryntis will capture you, and you'll have to stay here forever, just like the rest of us.”

“Your name is Grace?” Vanessa asked, and thought to herself,
Where have I heard that before?

“Don't be so stupid,” the girl said rudely.

Vanessa stared at her. She had seen those eyes somewhere, and something about the voice was also very familiar.
Who do I know who's named Grace?
she thought.

Suddenly she remembered. “Mrs. Baxter?” she cried out in alarm. “Oh, no! That isn't possible!”

“You just wouldn't listen to me, would you?” Grace said brusquely.

“You're
young!
Vanessa exclaimed.

“Of course I am,” Grace said.

“But less than a month ago, you were
old
. I
saw
you.”

“That wasn't a month ago. It was far, far in the future. And it was also yesterday, and tomorrow, too.”

“I don't understand,” Vanessa said.

“That's just the way things are here in Partequineus,” Christina said.

“And that's precisely why you should go back home,” Grace said, “and move out of that back room, and never go into it again. Change rooms with your mother. Stay out of the back one until you're at least eighteen. The purple mist never lets grownups come here.”

“But why should I?” Vanessa said.

“Yes, why should she?” another girl said. She was quite a bit younger than Christina.  “Pay no attention to her, Vanessa. The rest of us are really glad that you came. My name is Emma.”

“Pleased to meet you,” Vanessa said courteously. “Are you as old as Grace?”

“I'm not old!” Grace said loudly. “At least not when I'm here in Partequineus.”

“No one here is old,” Emma said. “I'm seven. And I've been seven for a hundred and sixty-nine years.”

“I'm five!” a small voice cried out. “My name is Janie, and I'm the first girl who ever came to Partequineus.”

“She likes to brag about that,” said another. “I'm Alyssa, and I'm eleven, like you. Or forty-six in your years.”

Vanessa felt dizzy and confused. By now she was sure that she was dreaming. “I can't stay,” she said. “My mother must be home from work by now, and I'll be in big trouble if I'm not there, too.”

Christina laughed. “Your mother isn't home yet. You can stay as long as you like.”

“No she can't!” Grace insisted. “She has to go back right now! If Guaryntis finds out she's here…”

“Guaryntis is asleep,” Kathy said. “He's always resting this time of day. Isn't that right, Christina?”

“Sure,” the tall girl said. “Unless you go into the desert, that is. If you do, he'll wake up and swoop down on you in no time at all, and then you'll have to stay here with us forever.”

“I don't know what you're talking about,” Vanessa said. “Please, I have to go home.”

“Will you promise to come back next week?” Christina said. “You haven't seen the ponies yet, and I bet you'd like to ride one of them. The mist goes into your room every Friday, right at four o'clock.”

“Ponies?” Vanessa said.

“We know all about you,” Alyssa said, “about how you take riding lessons, and who your friends and teachers are, and the names of all the books you like to read.”

“Where do
you
go to school?” Vanessa asked.

“There's no school here,” Alyssa said sadly.

 “Just let her go,” Grace said nervously. “She doesn't belong here. It's too dangerous for her. If we're lucky, she'll be too afraid to come again.”

“I hope not,” Christina said. “But you can go home any time you want, Vanessa. Just take three steps backward, and you'll be in your room again.”

“I'm dreaming,” Vanessa said.

“No you're not. And I'll prove it to you. Once you're back in your own room, I'll send you something to remind you.”

Vanessa was suddenly very frightened. Even though she was sure she was asleep, everything about Partequineus seemed very real, and she took one tentative step backward, then another. The purple fog crept in around the edges of the world, and Grace and Christina and the others began to look blurry and indistinct.

“Goodbye,” Christina called out to her. “Don't forget, you can come any Friday at four o'clock.”

Vanessa took one more step backward and collided with her bed. She fell back onto it as the purple vapour swirled around her head, then swooped up to the ceiling in a round fuzzy ball. It flipped over in a neat somersault and disappeared into the flue.

“Whoa!” she said aloud, shaking her head. She looked at the clock - it was exactly four. Almost no time had passed since she closed her eyes.

Some dream
, she thought,
and a pretty darn fast one, too.

She stood up and looked around. Once she was satisfied that everything was exactly the same as before, she decided to go downstairs to wait for her mother to come home. Then she noticed a strange blue light shining through the crack of the closet door. She opened it wide and found that all her clothes had been pushed back against the walls on either side.

 Right in the middle, all by itself and floating in midair without a hanger, a pale blue tunic shimmered and glistened with a luminous radiance all its own. It was just her size.

SIX

 

The next morning the shiny soft tunic had vanished from her closet, and Vanessa was glad, although just a bit disappointed, too. If her mother had happened to find it hanging (floating?) there, she wasn't sure how she could explain it. She couldn't decide if its disappearance was part of a real and exciting adventure, or if her visit to Partequineus had only been the result of something she ate that disagreed with her stomach and gave her nightmares.

Vanessa was confused, excited, and a little bit worried. Part of her wished that next Friday would never come, and part of her hoped the week would pass more quickly. She was very curious about the strange new world she had discovered, a world that seemed to be calling out to her, but it also frightened her. What would she do if the purple mist came again? What would she do if it
didn't?

On Saturday she went to Bethany's birthday party, and had a wonderful time riding through the woods with her friends for most of the afternoon. Later they returned to Bethany's house for cake and ice cream, and to watch her open her presents. Being with her friends almost made Vanessa forget about the strange girls who lived somewhere far away beneath a huge red sun.

The high point of Vanessa's week was her English class. Mr. Carson announced that everyone was to write their own ending to the three chapters they had read over the weekend. She had loved reading the story about the boy who thought he was a cat, and worked very hard on her assignment. She gave him a full six pages of new adventures, and when her teacher returned the papers on Friday, there was a big red
A+
at the top of hers. Near the bottom Mr. Carson had written, “You have a wonderful imagination.”

Imagination?
Vanessa thought.
Is that all Partequineus is? Only my imagination?

As soon as the last bell rang, Vanessa rushed home from school. She was fearful and anxious and worried and very, very excited, all at once. She was eager to see if the cloud would come back, but also nervous about going into it again. What would she find there?

At last gathering up her courage, she crept into her room. Her mouth dropped open in surprise. In the middle of the far wall, dazzling beams of light shot out of the cracks around the closet door. Step by careful step, she approached the door and twisted the knob. She flung it open and jumped back, and the beautiful blue tunic floated out into the room, all by itself, and hovered over her bed. Then it slowly drifted down, light as a feather, to land in the middle of her pillow.

“It wasn't a dream,” Vanessa whispered softly. She looked at the clock - five minutes before four. She didn't know what to do. Something, some
one
, wanted her to go to Partequineus. Christina? Alyssa? Certainly not Grace, who had told her never to come back. And would she have to wear this odd blue dress and go barefoot like everyone else she had met there? Did she have some special part to play in whatever was going on in that strange and brightly-coloured land?

Am I supposed to ride the ponies that Christina told me about?
she wondered.
And what if Mom comes home and I'm not here? But maybe she won't know I've been gone. Last week I came back at exactly the same time I left. At least I think I did.

Abruptly she made up her mind. This was an adventure, and she had no patience with people who were afraid to take a chance. She kicked off her Nikes and squirmed out of her school clothes, shivering in the cool air of her room. She reached out for the tunic, but before she could take hold of it, it soared weightlessly into the air above her head and settled down over her shoulders without touching her at all. Suddenly she was surrounded by the most amazing feeling of warmth, as if she stood in the light of her own private sun.

The purple vapour was coming. She could sense it gathering somewhere in the chimney, ready to carry her off to Partequineus. She spread her arms and whirled about in a circle, and the mist flowed out of the fireplace and enveloped her. With growing confidence she strode forward - one step, two, three - and burst forth bravely into the wondrous place she had been so frightened of the week before. A vast landscape stretched out in front of her.

SEVEN

 

But there was no one else in sight. “Christina!” she called out. “Kathy! Where are you?”

No one answered her.
Huh
, she thought.
They invited me to come back, and now nobody is even here to meet me.

And then she heard a clip-clop sound coming from somewhere behind her, a noise so familiar that it made her heart beat faster. She spun around quickly to find seven ponies trotting through the meadow, their hooves tapping a happy drumbeat in the bright, clear air. Their coats were glossy white, with black and brown and reddish auburn patches decorating their fine muscular bodies.

Painted ponies
, Vanessa thought.

They pranced like circus horses, dancing to music no one but they could hear. Vanessa ran forward to meet them, surprised to find them much smaller than the ranch horses she and her friends rode at home. They were all different sizes, but the largest was only a little taller than she was. His huge, soft eyes were almost on the same level as hers. The smallest one barely came up to her waist, and he frisked and kicked up his heels as if overjoyed to see her.

She reached out to the nearest pony and touched his mane, and he whinnied and stretched his head forward and nuzzled her arm. The others crowded around, and she patted them all in turn. And then the strangest thing happened. The ponies backed away, snorting and pawing the earth - all except one. He was the most beautiful of all, Vanessa thought, his coat dazzling white in the sunlight, his patches black and shiny as coal. A star blazed across his forehead.

The pony stood proudly before her, straight and strong, and she noticed for the first time that he alone wore a saddle, and had a bit in his mouth and a bridle and reins. He nickered softly to her, then turned and presented his left side. He tossed his head. The meaning was clear - an invitation to ride.

Vanessa thrust her foot expertly into the stirrup and swung aboard. The saddle was exactly the right size for her, made of the softest leather she had ever felt. She gathered up the reins and touched the pony's flanks lightly with her heels. He tossed his head again and leapt forward, and they were off.

BOOK: The Painted Ponies of Partequineus and The Summer of the Kittens
2.35Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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