//------------------------------// // La Curandera // Story: Journey // by Penalt //------------------------------// Alessandro Flores wiped the sweat off his brow as he lifted another heavy section of pipe into place.  Summer was still a full month away, but the heat was already rising day by day and with it the need for water to irrigate the Halstad farm.  A wide irrigation ditch, almost a river itself, flowed past him. His was the job of replacing all the worn out or otherwise corroded sections of pipe for the irrigation pumps along the canal. Water pipe was thick and solid by design, so that it could hold up under the loads placed on it and the piece he was lifting made a solid “thud” as Alessandro dropped it into place.  He paused for a moment, breathing heavily and listening to the pounding of his heart. The pounding was loud and getting louder. Puzzled, Alessandro put his hand on his chest, feeling his heartbeat.  His heart felt normal, so why was the pounding sound getting even louder? Chiara and Luna thundered along at full gallop, and the young woman gloried in their flight across the ground.  She had never ridden a horse this fast, she had never known a horse could be this fast. Then she saw the obstacle in their path, the irrigation canal.  It was twenty to thirty feet wide with a good ten feet deep of water in it. Chiara could see a man on the far bank working on an intake pipe for an irrigation pump, and in that moment Chiara decided to make the leap. “C’mon Luna,” Chiara shouted.  “Let’s fly!” Unlike Chiara, who was blinded by the exhilaration of their run, Luna was fully aware of how hard the jump was going to be.  Even with her abilities augmented by her Earth Pony nature it was going to push her abilities to the limit. Actual flight was far beyond the amount of magic she had at hoof, but then again flight wasn’t needed, distance was.  Acting quickly, Luna cannibalized the magic that had let her commune with her rider, and aimed it toward another part of her alicorn nature. Chiara waited until the very last moment, then urged Luna up into a tremendous leap.  As they soared across the gap everything seemed to slow and she felt like they were floating along.  From her height she glanced down at the poor workman, who stared up at her and Luna as they passed overhead with open-mouthed astonishment. Alessandro, on the other hand, had a far different perspective on things.  Luna’s thunderous approach had warned him something was coming, but nothing could have prepared him for the sight of the black mare flying through the air towards him.  Her lean black-clad rider speared him with her gaze, and stars flashed at him from her body. Darkness spread over him, like night covering the land as the horse and rider passed just over his head. A moment later both horse and rider were gone, and Alessandro scrambled to the top of the embankment to check if what he had seen had been real.  Cresting the top of the bank in seconds, he could just make out the departing dark horse through the dust cloud of her wake, hooves sparking fire. “Dios,” he said, still not truly believing that what he had seen had been real.  He stood there for a moment trying to make sense of what the beautiful and terrifying vision he had seen was.  A bit of motion caught his eye and he put his hand out in an instinctive reaction. Something soft landed on his hand and he closed his fingers on a dark blue feather that was as long as his forearm. Chiara didn’t see any of that though as she and Luna raced onward.  They’d found the old dirt and gravel road the workman had used to get to the canal, seconds after touching down from their leap, and used it to hurtle forward even faster.  Chiara knew where they were now. Roughly five miles ahead, off a bend in the old road, was the old pump house where the stricken boy was. “Not much farther to go now, Luna,” Chiara yelled to her mount.  “We just follow the road now, give it all you’ve got.” Chiara flicked the reins, asking for more speed and Luna responded by accelerating to a rate of travel so fast that the wind began to tear at Chiara’s eyes and she was forced to blink rapidly to keep them clear. At the far end of the farm Robert Halstad was on top of a tall water tower along with a work crew.  They needed to get water moving into the tank today, before water levels in the canal dropped to the point where they wouldn’t be allowed to pump anymore.  He was caulking yet another leak closed, when a streak of dust caught his eye. Setting down the caulking gun, he picked up a pair of binoculars he had near him. With its height, the water tower made a great vantage point to look down on his farm.  Bob never told anyone, but on some days he would come up here with a lawn chair, sit on the roof of the tank and just look out over his farm.  Everything he could see had come to into being because of him and his family, and he was damn proud of it. He focused the lenses on the head of the dust trail and was easily able to pick out the shape of a dark horse rocketing along at incredible speed along one of his gravel service roads.  He found himself counting the seconds as the horse ran past the regularly spaced power poles and the number he came up with made him whistle in appreciation. He counted off a second set of poles, then a third.  Each time the numbers added up to the same incredible rate of travel. That’s the horse Norris’ witch found.  What the hell is it doing on my land? Halstad asked himself, then frowned as another thought occurred to him as he recognized the blond rider on the horse’s back. Where the hell are they going in that kind of hurry?  Reaching into his pocket he pulled out his phone, which he habitually kept turned off to save battery life. Powering up the device he saw that there were twenty missed calls, all from his farm office. “Terry, what’s going on?” he asked his foreman without preamble, as the line connected. “Mr. Halstad, thank God,” his foreman said, relief plain in his voice.  “We’ve been trying to get ahold of you for the past fifteen, twenty minutes.” “Ya, I saw all the missed calls,” Halstad said, letting a little anger come into his voice.  “What’s going on and why is Norris’s witch redoing the Kentucky Derby across my land?” “She’s already here?” the foreman said, voice taking on a surprised tone.  “Damn, that horse of hers must be fast.” “Damn fast.  I’ve never seen a horse move like that over a dis—” Halstad broke off, realizing he was getting distracted yet again from his original question.  “Dammit, Terry. Forget the horse. What the hell is going on on my farm?” “Some of the workers kids were playing up by the old secondary pumphouse,” Terry explained, at long last.  “There’s some bees there and one of them got stung pretty bad. The doc was over at the Norris place but his truck broke, so her girl offered to ride in with some medicine.  The kid’s not doing so good. There’s even supposed to be a medevac chopper on the way in.” “God, I’ve told those people a hundred times to keep their kids away from working areas,” Haldstad growled at the phone.  “Somebody's getting fired over this. Anyway, I’m headed over there. I want to see this wonder horse I’ve been hearing about for the past couple of weeks anyway.” Unaware of scrutiny or phone call, Chiara and Luna made the turn onto the smaller gravel road that led to the pump station and Chiara could see a cluster of people in the distance. “There they are, Luna!” Chiara shouted, exhilaration and exhaustion warring in her body.  Her knees ached and her thighs burned with the effort of making herself move with her Goddess instead of against her, but it had been worth it.  She didn’t know how fast her and Luna were travelling, but she felt in her bones that no horse and rider could have done what she and Luna were doing. Sergio sat on the edge of the road and held his friend, listening to him wheeze.  It seemed like every breath Alonso took was louder than the one before, and that there was a bigger gap between each one.  He’d used the old phone he had to call Momma for help, and she had called all the others. There were many people here now, clustered around him and Alonso. “Momma,” Sergio said, fear evident in his eight year old voice.  “How long until someone gets here with the medicine to help Alonso?  You said they would be here soon.” Vero looked down at her young son with the most comforting smile she could manage. “They should be here any time now,” she said, to her boy, “and if they aren’t, the doctor said he sent a helicopter too.  Just… look, here comes someone now.” The small crowd looked up and they could see a dark horse and rider closing in on them fast.  Some of the people began to back up to get out of the way of the onrushing duo, and less than a minute later they were there, slamming to a halt as the rider kicked free of the saddle into a running dismount. “Move!” the black clad rider shouted, coat flaring behind her like a pair of wings, legs pinwheeling to eat up the momentum given her by the ebon steed that thundered past, slowing themselves at a slower pace than their rider.  The crowd gasped as the woman drew something from her clothing even as she skidded to a halt beside the stricken boy, and stabbed him with it. Sergio looked into the eyes of the blond woman beside him, her green eyes and the strange shining symbol at her throat marking her as the bruja, the witch from the other farm that his friends had told him about.  Bruja were scary, but they also had great power, and Sergio felt a burst of hope as he heard her cast a spell on his friend. “Artemis, goddess of the hunt.  You, who care for beasts and little children.  The first aspect of the Three. Help this young one in his time of need.  Grant him healing, and the strength of the earth,” Chiara said, barely breathing the prayer and then looking up to see a pair of young eyes locked on her own. She was about to tell the boy that his friend was going to be okay, or at least say something reassuring, when the child she had injected took a sudden deep breath.  There was a pause that seemed to go on forever, and then the boy took another breath, sucking air into his lungs, and then a third. Colour and life seemed to flow back into the child as his breathing stabilized.  An older woman snatched the boy up, hugging him to her, and sobbing with happiness. “Curandera,” the boy who had been holding his friend said to her, before leaning over to hug Chiara with every ounce of strength in his small frame. “It’s okay,” Chiara said, hugging the boy back.  He was babbling something in spanish to her and the people around them, but Chiara’s near total lack of knowledge of the language kept her from understanding what was being said.  The word “curandera” kept being repeated though. A sound of hooves echoed behind her, and Chiara looked up to see Luna looking down on her. Luna was covered with a fine sheen of sweat and road dust, but otherwise looked good. Luna could feel the power coming off the group.  The collective belief that those gathered around her worshipper had in both herself and her rider was feeding itself into Luna.  It wasn’t as good as her rider’s direct worship, but it was enough that Luna could feel the expended power of their run beginning to be replenished.  She also knew that something was wrong with her rider, even as she used a bit of the magic flowing into her to wash the fatigue poisons out of her body. “Hi Luna,” Chiara said, then gasped as she tried to stand up, pain stabbing in her ankle.  “Dang it. I knew I didn’t get that landing right.” Luna’s head swiveled around, nuzzling her in sympathy as her rider leaned heavily against her. “I can help you up, Curandera,” a girl in her early teens said, her eyes shining.  Chiara nodded her thanks and let the girl help her get up and over Luna, biting her lip to keep from crying out in pain as her hurt ankle hit the stirrup on the other side.  She looked down at the half-dozen or so people there, and for the first time there was neither fear or anger in their eyes, but respect and something she couldn’t put a finger on. “We need to keep an eye on his breathing,” Chiara said, cautioning the group gathered around her and Luna.  “The medicine I gave him is temporary, something to keep him going until the helicopter gets here. Keep him lying down.” “Yes, Curandera,” said the woman who had hugged the boy joyfully when his breathing had cleared.  Chiara made a mental note to find out what the word meant. It was obviously a title of some sort, and one that seemed to carry a lot more respect than “Bruja.”  A few minutes later, the helicopter hadn’t arrived, but a pickup truck had. As the driver stepped out Chiara was surprised to recognize the figure of Mr. Halstad, the farm’s owner. “You should be walking that horse.  Make sure she cools down okay,” the older man said, getting right to the point. “She seems okay, Sir,” Chiara said, respectful of the older man.  “I think she walked around a bit on her own before coming back to me.  But if you want to check Luna over I’d appreciate it.” “Well, I was going to anyway,” Halstad said, stepping close but where Luna could see him approach.  “No offense, but I understand you’re still a little new to a saddle and it’d be a shame to see a horse like yours go down like—” Everyone stopped talking as the sound of the medevac helicopter arriving from the hospital at the big city made its presence known.  Digging into her small backpack, Chiara handed Mr. Halstad the smoke flare, which the older man took a short distance away and activated to guide the helicopter in. Less than fifteen minutes later, the helicopter was lifting up and away from the gravel road and Chiara turned Luna away from the water bucket she’d been drinking out of, protecting both their faces from the downwash that scattered dust and small stones in equal quantities.  The paramedics on the flight had told Chiara she had probably saved the boy’s life, and their praise filled her with a warm glow. The respectful nods and words of thanks from the migrant workers made even the pain of her hurt ankle a minor annoyance. “Well, your horse is probably cooled down by now, but you mind if I give her a look over anyway?” Mr. Halstad asked Chiara.  There was something that worried Chiara in the way he looked at Luna. She was about to tell him “No,” but instead her years of submitting to her father’s authority had her nodding permission to the older man instead. “Thank you,” Halstad said, and he began his examination of the mare in front of him.  He wasn’t sure of her breed, but she wasn’t one of the larger ones. Nor was she an Arabian, he was sure of that.  He ran his hand over the smooth muscle of the horse’s chest, feeling the mare’s breathing. Smooth and even, and he noticed something else.  There was barely a trace of the incredible run he had seen this horse pull off. If anything, she looked as if she could do it again if her rider asked. “Where did you get her?” Halstad asked, trying to think as he ran his hand over the animal’s flank.  He marvelled at the deep, rich blackness of that hide. It was like looking into a night sky, with the few remaining beads of sweat catching the light like stars. “It’s more of a case of Luna getting me,” Chiara said, laughing a bit before she noticed the older man’s frown.  “Seriously sir, she found me at the pond near my cabin and basically adopted me.” “So technically she could belong to anyone,” Halstad said, lifting a rear hoof to check leg, hoof and shoe.  Again, the horse seemed in near perfect condition and no worse for wear. “Well, Mrs. Norris did a search for missing or lost horses, and the vet ran a search as well,” Chiara said, and again, something was sounding warning bells in her spine.  “She filed registration papers for Luna last month.” “‘Luna’ eh?” Halstad asked, setting down the hoof.  “Is that because of the crescent moon mark she has on her hips?” “What?” Chiara asked, swiveling around in surprise.  Sure enough, on either side of her horse’s hips, a white crescent marked the otherwise dark perfection of Luna’s coat.  A mark that hadn’t been there at the start of their day. “Oh, yes. That was part of it anyway.” Halstad looked up at the girl.  He knew she was lying, just as he knew that neither she nor Norris had any idea of the incredible piece of horseflesh that had fallen into their laps.  Secretariat, the famous horse who won the Triple Crown, had run the Kentucky Derby at a speed of just under fifty miles an hour. This “Luna” had been doing fifty-five, and had held that speed over the length of three or four miles, at least.  This horse was wasted on the dressage Norris and this girl had her doing. In his hands, the horse she could make him a literal fortune, and Robert Halstad decided in that moment that he had to have her. “Look, you work on a dairy farm,” Halstad began, making his voice as pleasant as possible.  “I’m a hay and silage fellow, but I’ve got a string of horses. Let me buy this mare off of you.  How does five thousand dollars sound?” “Sir…” Chiara began, in protest.  Sell the avatar of her Goddess? The man had to be nuts! “Fine, I can see that you have a real bond with her, and I can respect that,” Halstad continued, pressing the issue.  “Ten thousand, and you can come ride her whenever you like.” “Mr. Halstad,” Chiara said, trying to work her way through the shock and find a polite way to tell the man, “No.” “Fifteen thousand,” Halstad said, pulling out a checkbook.  “My final offer. You won’t ever get a better offer for her and I’ll make sure she has the best of everything.” “Sir,” Chiara said, finding her voice at last.  “Luna isn’t for sale. Not for any price, not now, not ever.  Now, if you will excuse me, my horse and I have a long walk home.” “At least let me give you a ride back,” Halstad said, seeing dollar signs on four legs walk away from him.  “I can have a horse trailer here in fifteen minutes and we can talk on the way.” “Thank you, Sir.  But, no thank you,” Chiara said, trying to remain polite but failing a bit.  “Mrs. Norris said Luna and I should do everything together. I’ll be off your property right away.  Good day, Sir.” Chiara wheeled Luna and they started off at a walk, before shifting to a distance eating trot. “He offered you how much?” Edith Norris said, handing Chiara a cup of tea.  Dr. Jamison had stayed at the Norris farm while a tow truck came out from town to collect his truck and bring him his motorcycle, which had given him time to finish Edith’s cast and be there for Chiara’s return.  He’d wound up carrying Chiara into the kitchen when she’d collapsed after dismounting from Luna. “Fifteen thousand,” Chiara said, accepting the cup and wincing as the doctor cut off her boot with a set of shears.  “Oh, I really liked those boots.” “If you had taken them off right after you had gotten hurt, you could have saved them,” Jamison said, hearing the familiar complaint.  “As it is, the swelling is at the point where the boots are actually becoming dangerous. What did you do?” “I tried doing a fast dismount off of Luna to save time,” Chiara said, wincing again as the boot fell away to reveal a blue and purple joint.  “I almost managed it, but I caught a rock at the last se—Ahh!” “Sprained pretty badly, near as I can tell,” Jamison said, taking his hands off the ankle.  “You’re damned lucky you didn’t break it. As it is you need to be off it for a few days.” “Yes sir,” Chiara said, bowing her head in obedience to the doctor.  “Sorry Sir.” “I wish I got that level of respect from more of my patients,” Jamison said, chuckling.  “I’ll wrap it for you, and leave you a pair of crutches. Ice it, keep off it, take ibuprofen for the pain if you need to.”  The mention of respect twigged Chiara’s memory of the deference the migrant workers had shown her. “Do either of you know what the word ‘Curandera’ means?” Chiara asked.  Norris looked puzzled, but Doctor Jamison started to laugh immediately. “They started calling you that?” he asked, to which Chiara nodded.  “It means ‘healer’ and specifically refers to a shaman… or a witch with healing powers.” “But I didn’t do anything,” Chiara protested, as both Norris and Jamison tried to keep from laughing.  “All I did was what you told me to do, sir.” “Is that all you did?” Jamison asked, smiling.  “Everyone for miles around knows how important your beliefs are to you.  You sure you didn’t… “ His voice trailed off as he made random quasi-mystical gestures with his hands. “Well, I said a little prayer right after I used the injector on the boy,” Chiara said, now well distracted from the doctor wrapping her ankle tightly.  “It’s not like I actually performed a ritual or did anything magical.” “Oh, I bet it looked pretty magical,” Norris said, not trying to hide her laughter now.  “I can see it now. You swooping in on Luna, leaping off her at the last second and using your magic wand and mystic words over the boy, who makes a sudden and spectacular recovery—” “But I didn’t do any of that!” Chiara protested.  “I just did—” “What you were told to do.  I know,” Norris said, putting her hand on the younger woman’s shoulder.  “But for good or ill, you’ve made quite the impression on those folks.” “Oh,” Chiara said, blinking.  “What do I do now?” “For now, heal,” Jamison said, finishing the wrapping.  “Down the road, we’ll see. In the meantime how about we get you moving?” “Yes sir,” Chiara said, as the doctor helped her up and handed her a pair of crutches. “Ask one of the hands to help you out with getting Luna washed down and taken care of,” Norris told Chiara, as she was hobbling out the door.  “You’re off for the next week. I want that ankle fully healed. Understood?” “Yes, Ma’am,” Chiara said, but as she reached the ground she turned back to look at her employer and benefactor.  “But what about you? Your foot is broken. I just have a sprain, I can—” “Understood?” Norris asked, putting an edge of command in her voice that brooked no dissent. “Yes Ma’am,” Chiara said, looking at the ground.  “I’ll do as you say.” “Good girl,” Norris said.  “Now, off you go. Doctor, can I have a word with you before you head off?” “Certainly,” Jamison said, watching the byplay with interest.  “Ms. Walsh, come by the clinic if things don’t get better in five days.” “Yes sir,” Chiara said, before hobbling off toward the barn. “That girl makes for quite the doormat, doesn’t she?” Jamison asked Norris, once they were back in the kitchen. “She has a problem standing up to authority unless it’s about something really important to her,” Norris said, easing back into her chair.  “I don’t like ordering her like that, but you see how she is. She’d work herself into the ground just to make me happy.” “Just like any good daughter would do for her mother,” Jamison said, snorting at Norris’ shocked expression.  “Don’t give me that look. You two might not be blood related, but sure as hell is hot, she looks to you like a mother and she’s the daughter you never had.  I’ll go easy on you though, what did you want to talk about?” “Just… Oh, fine,” Norris said, recovering her composure.  “I saw how you looked at Chiara just now. You’ve got something in mind for her, don’t you?”  Jamison had to bite his lip to stop from snorting out loud as Norris’ question again showed the relationship between the two women. “I want to train her as a field medic, or at least as a first-aid attendant,” Jamison said, knowing that Norris was not in the mood for any sort of teasing.  “I’ve been having trouble all along getting medical care into the immigrant worker community. They listen to me, but they don’t trust me. If Chiara’s already gotten their respect I can use her to get some real preventive medicine going with them.  Maybe even an immunization program.” “She’s got enough on her dance card right now,” Norris said, frowning slightly.  “Down the road, after the competition, we’ll see. But only if it’s something she wants to do.  I won’t have you pressuring that girl, even if it is for a good reason.” “Fair enough,” Jamison said, then he frowned as well.  “Speaking of pressuring. I’m assuming you would like to talk about fifteen thousand dollars.” “Yes,” Norris said, her face going stormy.  “You and I both know Bob Halstad’s reputation.  If he offered Chiara that much money on the spot for Luna… “ “Then he saw something in Luna that makes him think she’s worth that kind of money,” Jamison said, mind racing.  “More, most likely. A lot more, and when Bob Halstad sees something that can either make him money or save him money—” “Then he’s likely to do pretty much anything to get it,” Norris finished for the doctor.  “His ethics are pretty loose when it comes to getting something he’s focused on. It’s how he ran the four other hay and silage outfits out of the area.  Do me a favour. Ask around and see if you can figure out what he might have seen that’s got him focused on Luna?” “Will do,” Jamison replied, picking up his large case.  “Well, if there’s nothing else I’ve got to head back in.  I’ll let you know if I run across anything.” “Safe travels, Doc,” Edith Norris said, waving goodbye with a worried look.