The Teasing Horizon Chapter 1: Holding a Secret Breath

The Teasing Horizon

CHAPTER ONE: Holding a Secret Breath

Eight months. I've been staring at that horizon for eight months. The last time I saw Cane Gabriels' teasing emerald eyes it was early August, and now the spring breeze is back to mock me. As if to say "he still isn't here."

Maybe it's for the best, maybe it's past time to forget him. But everytime I close my eyes I can still see that arrogant smirk promising me "I'll see you soon, Flicka." I'd known that was a lie, even at the time. So did he; it was a game we played. We'd pretend for each others sake that it wasn't the last time we'd see each other, that it was easy to say goodbye. A simple "see you soon" was a lot easier to say than "goodbye for maybe-forever."

My brother Isaac keeps saying that he'll be back any day now, they all will. He meant it at first, after all, they'd promised. But the more he said it the less he meant it. Isaac wasn't stupid, most of the time he wasn't even optimistic. He's a tell-it-how-it-is kinda guy, he has been for all of his nineteen years. So saying something he doesn't truly believe anymore everyday is really just for my sake. I guess he and I play that game too.

I should have known it couldn't last forever. We were bound to end up right back where we started: in Broadland. Nothing ever happens in Broadland, and that statement is true now more than ever. Don't get me wrong, I will always love my home, but I don't think I will ever like my home. It's safe, I'll give it that. And it's big, there's lots of room for farming and livestock. My Dad has managed to raise my brother and I on this farm alone ever since mom died when I was an infant. I don't remember much about her, just what my Dad and Isaac have told me, but Isaac remembers her. Papa doesn't talk about her much, but I know he misses her too. I wish I knew her well enough to miss her.

It was always just the three of us on the farm, until recently. We've sort of extended the family, which makes things a bit more bearable for me; at least our bickering at each other keeps us busy. The funny thing is this life may not even bore me if I hadn't tasted real living. It's a good life, but here's what I've learned: A taste of the life holding Cane Gabriels' hand spoils the life after. Isaac often jokes that "once you go Gabe you never go back." No matter how many times I hear that I always blush.

I guess I should start from the beginning: My name is Felicity West, but my Papa has always called me "Flicka". It just sort of stuck. It was just a few days after my seventeenth birthday when Isaac (His birth given name was Isaiah, but that didn't stick either) had "had it" for the final time. As soon as he reached the house he was rampaging through his room, throwing things and cursing.

"What is it this time?" I called from my bed across the hall, closing the book I hadn't actually been reading for twenty minutes.

"I'm done, Flick, I'm leaving! It was a pleasure being your brother but I just cant take it anymore. I'll send you a postcard from Newland when I get there!"

I rolled my eyes, "Oh, is it Newland this time? Last time you were running away you were headed for Amberland."

He let out an exasperated groan as a response. "What happened?" I pressed on.

"It's not any one thing, it's nothing! That's the problem!" He opened the window and yelled out at the hilly landscape. "There's nothing here!" He slammed the window shut and continued his tantrum, doing more throwing than actual packing.

After a moment of silent anger I heard the bed springs creak as he threw himself on it. "One day I will really do it, you know."

"One day I'll come with you."

There was a pause, I could almost hear his gears turning. "Then lets go. Today, right now!" I could hear him leap back into action and run across the hall to my room.

"I said one day."

"One day isn't a day of the week, remember?"

I scoffed. "Are you actually quoting Papa? While considering going deliberately against his wishes?"

"He wants what's best for us, and I think leaving is in our best interest. It's obvious you and I haven't been exactly happy here for a while now, and Papa can see that. He's not stupid, Flick; he saw this coming."

I could only blink at him. He was right, or rather I desperately wanted him to be. Papa wanted what was best for us, right? That included our happiness. I thought about tomorrow; about waking up at sunrise and living the mundane day I've been living for the past seventeen years. First I'd brush my teeth and put on several layers of clothes that I could adjust depending on the days weather. Next I'd trek out into the chilly morning air to feed the buffalo. After that I'd go inside and make breakfast( rice and pinto beans or mushy peas, depending on the day). Papa would drag Isaac out of bed and grab a bite to eat, but he was always late to leave for the market. He would work as a merchant selling his crops and sheep wool while Isaac and I would do the afternoon chores, that included mucking out the barn and shucking corn for market. Then, to pass the time, I'd read a book I've read seven times. Papa would get home late afternoon with the money and food he earned for the day. He and I would cook supper and we'd all sit down for a meal and talk about the same details of same said day that we continue to live over and over again. After that, Isaac would finish the barn chores. Lastly, I would excuse myself to my bedroom where I would bathe and prepare for bed, all the while dreaming of being someone else, living some other life.

I practically shuddered thinking of bearing that another day. I suddenly felt Isaac's suffocation. "You're right."

Isaac looked at me as if I had said I was changing my name to Camel Toe. "What did you just say?" Apparently he hasn't heard those words directed at him before.

"I said you're right. Papa will understand." I almost didn't recognize the words as my own.

"So...we're actually doing this?"

I shrug to seem nonchalant but I'm fighting the wide grin that is surfacing. Could I be one of those people in the books? The one who goes where they please, confronting danger and avoiding responsibility? A sudden surge of excitement in my core makes me laugh out loud.

"Well...I know I said Papa will understand, but he may not understand right now. We should probably be gone before he gets back."

That's the first time the guilt struck. I'd felt guilt before, once when I was little I had stolen some candy from the market. On the way back to the farm I had started crying and told Papa we had to go back to return it. I didn't think this really compared to that but I didn't really have much else to compare it to. However, my fear of growing old and miserable in Broadland outweighed my guilt of leaving Papa. I bit my lip. "We'll need money."

"Way ahead of you." He beamed, and motioned for me to follow him. He scurried to his room and ushered me in. He closed the door behind me despite the fact that we were the only ones home, which made me think this unnecessary precaution meant he really wanted this to be a confidential. He lifted up his mattress to retrieve an envelope and handed it to me with the grin now covering most of his face.

The envelope was tattered and old, but the money inside was not. I gawked and took it out to allow myself better access to count it. As I counted, the money ran through my fingers as if I had counted sums this large before. I quit adding after I reached six hundred reeds.

When I found my voice I asked how he managed to get this much money.

"Delivering veggies for six years adds up" he said simply. "Besides, there's not much to spend it on anyway."

"Unfortunately it won't last us long in the city, we'll have to find jobs right away."

"Goes without saying, but yeah" he turned to resume packing with new gusto. "Go pack, we only have a few hours before Papa gets back. "

I wanted to ask what I should bring, or better yet what to leave behind. How do you pack for a new life? Lightly, I answered myself. Everything I brought would just be a tie to life here. I went back to my room and pulled open my dresser drawer, choosing a few frocks and leggings to keep me warm. A pair of gloves, lots of socks and underwear, warm boots, and a thick coat with fur in the collar that used to belong to my mother. I decided the best way to carry most of it was to wear it in layers. I pulled on all I could and put the rest in a small leather bag Papa had given me for my birthday. It was almost brand new. I took a deep breath and looked around the room one last time. Surely we would visit, right? We'd miss Papa.

My eyes landed on a stack of paper on my cluttered desk. As an afterthought, I sat down and wrote a quick explanation for him to find when he got home:

Papa,

We have left in search of ourselves.

Don't worry, we'll find them.

I promise we will write, both of us.

We love you.

Really.

Love, your Flicka.

I think that being so caught up in the excitement had distracted me from the guilt of abandoning my father, but that's exactly what I was doing and I knew it. As soon as I read over my words, set in to the paper with permanent ink, a sob escaped me that surprised even me. I stopped the tears just in time before Isaac came in, but he knew instantly anyway. Call it brothers intuition.

"I know" was what he said, but what he meant was this: Yeah, I feel that guilt too. I knew I didn't have to go. No one was forcing me, Isaac would understand. He would leave without me, or maybe he wouldn't. Maybe we would both just stay here and become just like everyone else in Broadland; old before their time.

The words nothing ever happens in Broadland kept echoing in my mind, and that alone was enough to empower me. I found strength in the promise of a new life, and I was pretty sure I would risk anything to get one. I would face all the guilt that I deserved to have. "Come on, if we don't leave now I doubt we ever will."

Isaac didn't say anything, but his look asked are you sure? That made me realize that he wasn't sure either. He needed me to be sure. I nodded as confidently as I could manage.

Grabbing my leather bag and placed the note for Papa face up on the kitchen table on my way, I Iet the screen door slam behind me as I left the house for good. I followed Isaac out to the pasture and watched him whistle for Sprout and Reno; our buffalo. They'd always been pets more than anything, they were twins that were born five years ago by a buffalo Papa had bought, but he didn't know that she was pregnant at the time of purchase. Sprout was significantly smaller than his sister, hence the name, but he was healthy. I had bonded with him at an early age. It had been on Sprout that I had learned to ride, after which I had taught Isaac. Papa even made us saddles for them out of leather for my birthday one year.

Isaac and I had saddled up in what seemed like no time, filling the saddle bags with grain and securing our bags to the saddle. During this time Isaac said very little, only speaking to sooth Reno or ask me to pass a bundle. As he swung his leg over and mounted he looked me in the eye, "Look out world! The Wests' are heading north!" He winked and his famously large grin made a reappearance. I laughed, releasing the tension that had been building.

All it took was a leg up and a step to the north to get us started on our journey. As we walked away I didn't allow myself to look back at the farm house, for fear I'd lose my nerve. When we crossed the border of Broadland and finally stepped onto the Outer-stretch territory I let out a breath I suspected I had been holding my entire life.