Chapter 9: Holly (Part III)

Let my life begin!

     “Well I guess you could say that.” he smiles as I mount sergeant. I looked over to him, he is upon Lacy’s back and I almost cry the sheer beauty of the two. Like a fairytale companionship he strokes her neck and plays with her mane. She breathes heavy against him, they are one. I hug Sergeant’s huge neck and wonder if we have the same connection. I hear his heart beat and I know everything will be alright. I ride on down the street at a steady pace and the stranger follows instinctively. There is no use fighting, he is stronger than me but the war is not yet won. I shall not talk to him or even got close to him; he must know that I am not so easily persuaded as he might think.
     We stop in Switzerland, south of the Alaskan border. It is quite cold and I fear for the horse’s warmth more than my own. Under the dancing flames of the camp fire the stranger tries to make conversation. I refuse, barely looking at him. It makes me feel guilty to ignore another human’s existence. I have never been so rude in my life. What would Nan think of my childish behaviour? She wouldn’t approve, she’d look at this whole situation as a stage in my life; one of the challenges I face as I become a woman. It seems like a test to me, like Jesus is putting a bolder in my path to see if I can surpass it, to see if I deserve the right to adulthood "if I would survive it at all. I look upon the stranger, his crisp shirt dirty and crumpled. The sleeves are rolled up to the elbows and I can vaguely make out a tattoo that laces up his biceps and disappears over his shoulder. I look to the stars, they are so beautiful. I lay in the dirt as I gaze upon them. I don’t quite care much for the state of my hair and clothes at this point. I wonder what I should do. It doesn’t feel right to abandon the idea of getting to know this man, I judge him harshly without anyway valid point of the matter. But getting to know him would be abandoning my fight my freedom. I would be accepting this change in my life and shaking off all the horrors left untold within those smouldering eyes of his.
     He wakes me at dawn. Tired eyes, we ride west in an effort to bet the sunrise over China. The rice fields, saturated in water are harvested by woman in straw hats. It is quiet here and my heart starts to pound quite a bit inside my chest. I have never been outside my border, Switzerland was a fairytale but I felt at home there. I don’t know this world. I’ve read about it in books and Nan has told me stories of its magical wonders. The air is crisp and frosts my breath, chilling my lungs and making my shiver. We enter the city centre; wheels on wooden carts creak and groan as men the size of ants compared to the height of Sergeant, push them in every direction. Markets of red fabrics, silk and vibrant colours of passion and myth lace China. I am in awe at the beauty and mystery of such a place. The stranger looks tense in this town; I watch his face with worry. His face is calm but I see his jaw is locked, lips white with the force implied upon hem, his eyes say it all; guilt, fear, anxiety. It worries me further. Why would a man like him be scared? It must be gruesome if even this stranger is worried for it. I want so badly to know what dangers are left untold, but I contain my questions. Maybe its better I don’t know. I see his eyes dart from shop to shop analysing the faces of every man. Does he have enemies here? It’s not hard to imagine a man like him having enemies. I just concentrate on the road ahead not wanting to think of such horrendous things.