Chapter 12 – Suddenly
He had barely reached the next depression, barely caught his breath when another voice called out.
“Stewart!”
For an instant Stewart panicked, fear gripping his entire body. Now the voices knew who he was. Then, from somewhere deep in his mind he realized…he knew that voice. He opened his eyes and forced himself to look in the direction his name had been called. There, beneath a long ledge, behind shining silver sticks and branches, was the child.
The boy shoved some of the shining sticks aside. “Stewart!” he said again, his eyes wide and compelling.
Before he knew what he was doing Stewart turned and ran at the child. He no longer cared about the long whiteness, or the disembodied voice, or the people running around carrying things. Here was his child. Here was the one he wanted to find. Here were warm hands and kind eyes. Here was home.
The child reached down, spread his fingers on the floor and Stewart found speed in his legs that hadn’t been there before. His front feet touched the child’s palm, carried him up the boy’s wrist, and pulled him under the long white cloth that covered the rest of the child’s arm. He ran upwards until he found the child’s neck, to the warm, soft place where the boy's shoulder made the perfect spot to sit, and there Stewart stopped. He pressed himself tightly against the child’s throat, wrapped his body, his tail, everything, around the boy’s neck and clung to him.
He could feel the child’s heartbeat, could feel every breath the boy took, and the warmth, the safe warmth of him through his skin. The child reached up and laid his hand on Stewart’s back.
“Stewart, you’re so cold,” he said softly, his voice sending vibrations into Stewart’s body. The boy took the sheet he was wearing and pulled it up against Stewart and hid him from the cold air. “You’re too dry,” he said next. “You need water.”
He felt the boy look around, his chin brushing over Stewart’s head as he looked to the left and then to the right.
“There’s no water in here,” the child told him. “We’re gonna have to leave.”
At first Stewart didn’t say anything. He would stay or he would leave with the child. Where the child went he would go. As long as he was with the child the rest didn’t matter. Then he remembered the empty shadow and the man who had worn it. And he remembered the word the woman had used only moments before.
From deep in his throat he pulled the word out. “Ddddaannnggrrruuussssss.”
The child’s whole body went rigid. Stewart could feel the tendons on the boy’s neck stand out. He took another breath and tried again. “Ggggeetttttt ooooouuuutttttt.”
The child bolted out from under the ledge, shoving shining sticks in all directions. Several fell over and made a tremendous crash that rang painfully in Stewart’s head. The child stumbled forward, caught himself on his front legs and then got up and ran for the door, one hand held against Stewart, the other waving wildly in front of himself as he ran. A dozen steps and they were out in the bright white of the hall and Stewart closed his eyes in response to the painful light. He could feel the child look right and left and then run again. Running was good. Running meant leaving. Leaving meant grass, and fresh warm air, and water. Running meant life.
“Rrrruuunnnnnn,” he hissed and held on.
~ Peace and motivation
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