Midnight by Anna Dove (books for new readers .TXT) 📕

on the door, from which a summer wreath of grasses and wildflowers hung. For a moment, she could hear nothing but the chirping of the birds and the wind in the trees; then, she heard pattering footsteps, and the door swung open form the inside.

         “Haley! What a nice surprise!”

         Junetta stood, in her dress and her boots, beaming at her granddaughter. Elizabeth thought the two very much alike at first glance; the same eyes, the same smile, the same facial shape.

         Haley wrapped her arms around the little woman, and then pulled away and looked her grandmother in the face.

         “We’ve been riding for so long, just trying to get here. The roads are impossible, and everything is just so awful, we didn’t even know if we would make it. Oh, I’m so relieved to see you. I’m so glad you’re alright.”

         Junetta looked at the other two travelers.

         “Haley,” she said firmly, “what is going on? What do you mean?”

         Haley looked up at the old farmhouse, and noticed the absence of electrical lines. She glanced around her and saw the rolling pastures, the occasional livestock, the far line of the wooded area.

“You see,” she said slowly, “there’s been a horrible attack. All the electric is out. It’s been every city we have seen—it may be multiple states, or regions, or even the entire country.”

         Junetta narrowed her eyes and looked from Elizabeth to Carlos to Haley, and then up to the sky, and then out to the fields. She paused, leaning against the doorframe.

         “Hm,” she murmured, her face solemn. She took a deep breath and exhaled.

         “We’ve been riding to get away from the cities--they’re just awful, the cities…”

         “Let’s not talk of that, dear,” said Junetta, straightening up abruptly. She scanned the farm behind them all, running her gaze over the horizon preemptively over the rolling green hills bathed in evening light. Her voice was terse and tense.  “Come inside, all of you. You must be tired, and we all have to figure out what to do. Leave the horses to graze--take off their halters and let them go. We can bring them down to the fields in a few minutes. Come inside.”

         Haley felt immensely comforted in the presence of her grandmother. Junetta exuded competence, stability, security. Her presence of mind and calm demeanor assuaged the fears that threatened to creep up into the travelers’ hearts. Setting the horses free, they followed the woman into the farmhouse, down a long corridor and into a small, comfortable room with plush couches and tall wicker chairs, an oriental rug, greenery, lit by long candles and glass oil lamps. The light flickered pleasantly and for the first time in a week Haley found that she felt somewhat secure. Junetta locked the door behind them.

Once they had all gathered, Junetta told them to sit down, and they obliged. She pattered into the adjoining kitchen and returned after a few minutes with cups of hot tea. She handed one to each person. The cups were little porcelain pieces, with green ivy and little pink rosebuds painted on the sides. Haley took a sip; it was hot and it burnt her tongue.

“Tell me,” said Junetta calmly, “what is happening.”

Between the three of them, they recounted the events of the past week; the gala, the attack, the journey to Arlington, the escape on horseback. The words filled the room, a jumble of interjections and explanations and recountings.

After they had finished, they all sat in silence for a moment, and Junetta sipped her own tea and appeared deep in thought. Then, she deliberately set down her tea and stood up.

“Come with me. First things first. It is very important to take care of the details of your life when you are in a crisis. You must eat and drink and sleep and force yourself to adopt normal behavior patterns to the extent that you are able. So let’s go put the horses in the fields and brush them down and make sure they have water and grain. They’ve carried you for miles and you must take care of them now.”

Obediently they all set down their steaming cups and followed her as she led them outside, taking the halters again from where they had set them by the door. The dusk had approached further, and the land sloped away from them idyllically in the faded light. Still grazing, their horses stood still as they approached. Slipping the leather straps over her horse’s head, Haley gently pulled its mouth up from the grass, and tenderly stroked its withers. The animal turned its head towards her, touching its nose to her hand.

They trod down the hill in a line towards the fenced field below, the horses’ heads swaying softly with every step. The horses’ hooves clopped heavily in the young grass. Reaching the fence gate, Junetta opened the lock and swung it inwards, and the others followed close behind with their horses.

Hanging from a fence post was a plastic bin of grooming tools; Junetta handed each of them a stiff brush and dutifully they began to brush the backs, ribs and flanks of the animals. Long sweeping strokes from the withers to the flank, always with the direction of the hair, and little puffs of dust and hair and parts of fragmented leaves or plant pieces rose up with the movements of the brushes. Haley found the consistent movement soothing. She pushed from her mind everything but the control of the brush, going up to the withers, down the back, up to the withers, down the flank.

The last rays of light fell away as the first stars dawned into the sky. Carlos and Junetta filled the first water trough while Elizabeth and Haley filled the other, and then poured grain from the grain bin inside the stables into three food buckets. Junetta was not normally generous with grain for her animals, believing that they were