Runaways

sawdust… the roar of the crowd. There was no arguing the fact that some horses were performance freaks, egotistic critters who lived to be cheered at. Something to think about for later…

If there was even going to be a later. For, though their fourth teammate Joanne Fisher had done very well on Old Ugly herself, then it had come Wilma's turn to ride

Megan resisted the urge to cover her face and moan. Buddy had actually done pretty well, under the circumstances, but Wilma had sat him with all the grace and elan of a sack of potatoes. She was clearly somewhere else entirely while she rode. In the loser's circle, Megan thought, and then grimaced in annoyance at her own cruelty… Worrying about Burt.

But she had had reason. No one had heard from Burt for three days now. His parents, according to Wilma, had called the police, but the police had told them what they usually told the parents of runaways. There were too few officers to chase too many kids who had gone missing, some of them for just a few days. Unless there were suspicious circumstances, they couldn't really helpand there was nothing particularly suspicious about it. Burt had simply taken off, leaving a note behind him that said he just couldn't stand it anymore. Additionally, he would be turning eighteen in a few months. If he didn't want to go home again, all Burt had to do was lie low until then, and after that claim emancipated-minor status under state law, if he wanted to.

Not that I don't understand why he'd want to, either, Megan thought. But… She sighed and let the thought go, for she'd spent too much time belaboring it over the past few days, and whatever her intentions had been, her practice schedule had suffered. She found herself wondering now whether she could have done a whole lot better on the suddenly-not-misbehaving Buddy if she had spent more of those seventy-two hours in the saddle and less of them consoling a crying friend.

But, dammit, Megan thought, getting angry at herself again, what're you supposed to do? What are friends for anyway if they can't depend on you to be there when they need someone to cry on? She folded her arms and hugged herself a little in annoyance. It's all so damn unfair…

'Megan!'

Oh, what now, Megan thought, and then once more angrily stomped on the thought as unworthy, and turned. Wilma was running toward her, and the difference between the droopy, sad, furious Wilma of a hour or so ago and this present one was astonishing. She was glowing, she was grinning all over her face, she was transformed. It was amazing, and a little annoying as well.

'What?' Megan said as Wilma ran up to her. 'They change our marks or something?'

She immediately regretted having said it, but Wilma was bouncing up and down as if she hadn't even heard it. 'He called! He called/'

'Who, Burtr She blinked. 'Just now??'

'On my mobile. He said he didn't want to worry me while I was getting ready for the competition,' Wilma said. She was still actually grinning as she said it.

Megan could do little but stare at Wilma in astonishment, for the complete backwardness of Burt's reasoning simply filled her with awe. It's true, she thought. It's true what they say. Males and females really are members of different species. I always thought my brothers were alien beings… now I know it's true. And as for Burt…! She took a long deep breath, reached out and grabbed Wilma's arms to stop her jumping up and down, and said, 'So where is he?'

'He wouldn't say, but that's normal. He's at one of the Breathing Space facilities.'

Megan had heard of these once or twice. They were a kind of combined online-offline refuge for kids who were having troubles at home and needed a 'neutral' space to renegotiate the business of putting their family lives back together. Right now, though, all Megan felt able to do was sag against the side of the little prefab building and let out a long breath of complete relief that Burt wasn't dead in a ditch somewhere. Later, she thought, after I have a few words with him, he may wish he was… But that could wait.

She looked at Wilma, whose face also reflected that great relief. 'So,' she said, and shook Wilma a little. 'You feeling a little better now?'

'A little better!!'

'Yeah.' Megan sighed.

Wilma did, too. 'I wish I'd known about this two hours ago,' she said.

'Yeah, I wish you had, too… '

'Megan.' Wilma's face fell. 'Oh, Megan, I'm so sorry, I messed everything up so completely-'

Megan restrained herself from saying what she thought. 'Look,' she said. 'It's not the end of the world. They'll let us ride it again in three months. By then the season will've quieted down, there won't be any rush about it, and not so much competition… '

'And this time,' Wilma said, 'we can ride it with Burt.' The satisfaction, the relief on her face, were complete. Megan kept her face as completely still as she could, for her first thought was, Will he be in any position to ride it? His parents would be furious with Burt for doing what he had done… what he had been threatening to do, if quietly, for so long. If he did come home, would he find himself permanently grounded until he graduated? That would leave the team as badly off as it was already. Would they possibly even just throw him out to find his own place…? Dressage practice would be the least of his problems, if that happened-

She sighed and shook Wilma by the upper arms again, in a companionable way. 'Wil,' Megan said, 'get a grip. Let's go have a talk with him and see how he is first. Will they let us do that?'

'Yeah,' Wilma said, 'I think so. He left me a 'non- designated' Net address to check in with-it's both a message drop and a meeting space.'

'Great,' Megan said. 'So let's see to the animals, and then get ourselves out of here.'

Wilma nodded. 'We'll be back,' she said, turning, 'and this time we'll get it right.'

As long as you're still going out with Burt, Megan thought, I wish I could be sureBut she sighed, and said nothing, and went after her friend.

Much later Megan got home to find her mother sitting in the kitchen. The kitchen table was covered with printouts, a few books, a couple of research pads presently showing pages from what looked like legal documents, and what was almost certainly about her tenth cup of tea. Megan's mother and tea, the blacker the better, were in a love-hate relationship that turned into 'hate' about nine p. M., the time at which it was no longer safe for her mother to drink tea if she intended to sleep. Not that she stops drinking it then, Megan thought, with some amusement, as she glanced at the slender little blond woman hunched over the paperwork, dropped her dressage jacket over the back of one of the chairs, and dumped her helmet on the seat.

'Daddy's stuff all over the office again?' Megan said.

'Mmmh,' her mother said, making a note on one of the pads, and then looked up. 'Why can't people be tidy when they're working?'

Megan gave the surface of the table a meaningful look, which her mother caught and raised her eyebrows. 'There's method to my madness,' she said. 'Whereas in your father's case, I still have my doubts. How did you do?'

Megan pulled the scoring paper out of her jacket's inside pocket and handed it to her mother, then went to get herself some iced tea from the fridge. Her mom unfolded the scoring sheet and gazed at it thoughtfully for a moment.

'Daughter mine,' she said, 'this looks like Linear B to me. But I gather from the look on your face that things didn't go the way you planned.'

'We came in twelfth of thirty teams,' Megan said. 'And you're right, this wasn't what I had in mind. On the other hand, it turns out that Burt is okay.'

'Is he!' her mother said. 'Where is he?'

'Physically? I don't know,' Megan said. 'One of the Breathing Space facilities, though.'

Her mother sat back in the kitchen chair and twisted herself around a litile in an unsuccessful attempt to get comfortable. 'That could mean any one of twelve different cities,' she said. 'You going to look in on him?'

'As soon as I have a shower.'

'I smell a horse,' said a voice from down the hall. 'And guess what? It's my sister/'

'Let me kill him a little, Mom,' Megan said, glaring down the hall. 'Just a little. I promise I won't do anything permanent.'

'I've heard that one before,' her mother said. 'No, honey, it would start out with the best of intentions, but it wouldn't stop there. Let him live for the moment. We can only hope to collect on his life insurance at a later