Rip watches a thin feathery cloud morph and change shape in the sky above him. He can’t recall exactly how he used to feel, but he knows it was nothing like this. An ant runs over his right hand that is spread on the grass. It’s a feeling of complete and utter peace, like the birthrights of purity and innocence have returned to him. He rolls over. Zephyr’s lying a few metres away in the sun.
Not too bad here is it, hey? Rip pulls a handful of grass and throws it to the horse; it scatters in the wind. I’m glad you’re with me, he says, propping up onto his elbow.
And so you’re ready then, Yiska says, casting a shadow.
I knew it was too good to be true, Rip says.
Don’t think you know everything, it limits you, Yiska says.
I bet you think you know everything, though. A butterfly hovers and lands on Rip’s outstretched arm. Its wings are black and cream, they open and shut, open and shut and then stay open and parted. Like two eyes, Rip says, pointing at the almond-shaped patterns on the wings.
Eyes opening, Yiska says.
So what do you have in store for me today then?
It’s you and the horse today, Yiska says.
The tipi is colder than usual as they enter. Yiska lights a candle and places it in the middle of the room. Rip takes a breath and holds it in.
No need for that,
Yiska says.
Please don’t put on those horns and I’ll be okay.
Yiska picks up the ceremonial antlers and places them on his head, then he dips his gaze towards the flame. This is the ceremony of your totem animal. I wear these horns because they come from my totem animal. Understand?
Yes, I guess.
The horse is here with you because he represents that which you most need in life. Horses represent freedom and power.
Rip cracks his knuckles. Okay, so everyone comes here with an animal then?
Forget everyone, I keep telling you. You here not for everyone, just for you. For now, you are going to merge deeply with your heart’s desire for freedom,
Rip lies back in the dirt. He hears kookaburras calling beyond the tipi walls and shuts his eyes. Yiska sounds his drum. Thunder cracks outside, then a bolt of lightning hits the wooden tipi poles. Rip’s eyes spring open, he looks up and the feathers on the top of the tipi are alight.
Let it go, you are safe, Yiska says, over the sounds of the rain.
Rip feels himself melting into the floor. His body is light and rocking backwards and forwards into the dark.
Thunder screams through the sky and his legs are gripping something. Rip looks down and he’s straddling a horse—Zephyr. There’s no saddle, just the shining wet skin of the horse underneath him.
Holy shit! He leans forward and takes hold of the horse’s mane as the ground flashes beneath them. The pounding hooves vibrate up through his body. Another thunderclap overhead and Zephyr picks up the pace.
No time to think or feel or struggle, Rip clings desperately to the horse’s mane, every muscle in his body trying to hold onto the animal’s rocking stride. He looks past Zephyr’s ears and sees a headland in the distance. They’re on the beach, racing just near the waves. Zephyr shifts direction and his feet meet the water, it splashes up over Rip’s legs. The horse gallops, speeding as light rain falls down on them. Rip’s knuckles are white, his lips blue and his eyes half-open. He looks down at the sand and his body lifts to the left. In a blur, he manages to throw his weight the other way and stay upright. His grip loosens and he finds his hips are moving in sync with the horse, the jarring sensations have passed and he feels smooth and weightless, like it’s his own feet touching the ground.
Another wave smacks them, bigger this time, and Rip gets a mouthful of salt water. The horse begins to slow; his steps get heavier until they come to a complete stop. Zephyr pants and flicks his mane in Rip’s face. Rip slides backwards and stretches out on his back, catching his breath. Zephyr, you maniac, he says.
Zephyr bends his neck and licks Rip’s leg. Rip lets his body fall, and he lands in the warm water. He runs a hand over Zephyr’s smooth coat, muscles rippling underneath. The sky around them is different, the storm has receded. Rip hugs the horse’s neck. His whole body is shaking, he’s never felt so alive. Or so free.
Rip feels grass under his feet, prickling. Zephyr’s coat is wet under his cheek.
His work with you is done, Yiska says. Say goodbye.
No, he can’t leave. Rip strokes the horse’s flank and frowns at Yiska. I want him to stay.
He can’t, it’s his time.
Rip’s eyes well up with tears. Where is he going? I never thought about it until now. He can stay with me, I’ll look after him.
Yiska holds his palms on the horse’s face. Animals are part of humanity’s evolution, they are friends playing their role with more compassion than we are capable of. Just look into a cow’s eyes and you see they know more than you of love.
Is he going back into his body or is he dead? Rip pushes Yiska’s hands away. No, please, please let him stay. I’ll do anything.
It’s not up to us, he’s happy to go. Aren’t you? Yiska looks into the horse’s eyes.
What is he saying? Rip asks.
Yiska puts his hand to his lips. We must let him go, he says.
Zephyr nuzzles his head on Rip’s shoulder. Rip feels his breath on his skin, then the horse walks slowly away from them.
Rip cries uncontrollably as he watches the horse go. Zephyr stops before the edge of the field and turns back. Rip feels the horse’s gaze go straight through him. He doesn’t want to leave!
No, he’s helping you. He’s telling you to watch, Yiska says.
A flock of black cockatoos bursts out of the forest as if roused for the occasion. They fly high, circling the area above Zephyr. Their distinctive haunting screeches echo across the field as they drift on the breeze that catches under their wings, the red ends of their tails dipping. Zephyr’s body begins to glow brightly in the long grass. His face contorts for a second and a thick black unicorn horn grows up through the skin above his eyes on his forehead. He blinks once, twice, then turns towards the bush. He starts to run and giant black wings burst out of his shoulders. The wings stretch and flap as he reaches the forest then lift him up into the air. Zephyr’s majestic wings glisten and glide on the air currents, then he vanishes into the clouds with the flock of cockatoos trailing behind him.
So you’re okay about the horse? Dream flexes her feet in Rip’s hands.
I guess, he says. What choice do I have?
I feel you’ll see Zephyr again. That’s just what I’m getting, take it or leave it.
I’ll leave it, thanks. I’m having no expectations for anything. It’s the only way to avoid disappointment. Rip applies pressure to the sole of her right foot. So you’re stuck here too, right, same as me?
Nope. I’m more of a free agent. I can come or go as I please.
Rip drops her foot. What? So why are you here then?
Because people are wonderful and I go wherever I feel called. I can help up here and down there so I flit between both. I’m a butterfly of sorts. Dream settles back into the couch.
People are not wonderful. Look at how we stuffed up the earth, and all the bad stuff we do to each other. All the wars. People are definitely not wonderful, you’re dreaming, Dream.
No wonder your life stank with that attitude. If you look back over history, it’s getting better. We are waking up to better ways of treating each other—ourselves and animals and the earth. It’s all a process and it happens at exactly the right time and pace. We are moving towards something new. It’s a majorly exciting time. I’d go down again just to see that! Other one, she puts her left foot into his lap. To be human is a truly courageous act, Rip. Think about it—everything we have to grapple with, being on earth with no real idea why or how or anything. We’re kicking around in the dark, trying to make the best of things, with no real confirmation that there’s even a point. And we feel so separate from each other and from the source of creation. To persevere is gutsy, don’t ever forget it.
So are you saying I’m weak for trying to find a way out? Rip’s face reveals his confusion.
Not at all, Dream says. What I’m saying is if you think about it, part of the angst of being human is that there is no way out. We’re on this planet and we can travel and move, but we can’t actually get off——unless we’re astronauts and go up in a rocket. We’re trapped in this cosmic experiment, or whatever it is, and it takes true bravery to be okay with that knowledge. It’s buried very deeply in most of us but, fundamentally, there is no way out. Even what you did … it didn’t exactly free you, did it?
Rip frowns and sticks his thumbs into her heel. So what then?
Ah, Dream says. So you work that out for yourself. We all have to. I love people, we are a sparkling, radiant bunch of beings and I’m here to help as much as I can and be a part of it. I didn’t go through all the shit I went through just to pull out at the final moment. No, this is humanity’s golden hour. I’m sticking around for the fireworks.