Free Diamond Spirit by Karen Wood Page B

paddock playing with Wally. Sometimes, while the others were out trail-riding or schooling young horses, Jess would sit under the trees just watching Walkabout. When the little filly fell asleep, spread out in the sun, Jess would lie back and look at the sky through the canopy of the trees, thinking about spirits and listening to the earth.
    At other times, Wally would badger her mother to play. And occasionally there were magical moments when curiosity got the better of her, and she would cautiously approach Jess with her nose outstretched and ears twitching. If Jess made eye contact with her, she would skitter away. But if Jess kept her eyes on the ground, the filly would come closer, sniffing the top of her head and nibbling at her ears.
    Over the days and weeks, the two of them developed a friendship. Jess watched how the foals played with each other and tried to imitate them. She would walk past the filly, inviting her to follow. Initially Walkabout kept her distance, but gradually she came closer. Jess would change direction every now and then to make sure she had her attention.
    This became a game, and eventually Jess could run around the paddock, ducking left and right with Wally trotting merrily behind her. As she grew bolder, the filly would initiate play, giving Jess a playful nip and looking at her with mischief in her eyes. She would shake her head up and down as though laughing, and gallop away.
    Hours melted into days, and time in the mares’ paddock took on a dreamlike quality. There was never any sense of an afternoon passing but for the gnawing in Jess’s stomach when it was time to eat.
    A few days before Christmas, Jess heard the ute bumping its way down the laneway. It was late in the afternoon, well after the usual feed time. She could see Lawson in the driver’s seat, but the passenger she did not know. She made herself busy, scrubbing at a water trough.
    ‘This lot are the best Biyanga has ever put on the ground,’ she heard Lawson say as he got out of the ute. The passenger side door opened and another man got out. They walked out into the paddock to inspect the foals.
    ‘I wasn’t expecting that mare to throw a coloured foal,’ the stranger said, as they approached Walkabout.
    Wally’s owner?
    The two men began to circle Walkabout and her mother, pushing them towards the corner of the paddock. As Walkabout skittered past, the man tossed a lasso around her neck. She reared against the rope, shook her head and fell heavily on her side. Lawson pounced on her and held her down, while the other man tightened the rope around her throat until her panicky squeals faded. The mare whinnied and paced nervously.
    Jess wanted to run and scream at them, ‘She can’t breathe, you idiots.’ She stood helplessly at the trough, watching the filly’s eyes roll wildly in terror. Lawson knelt on Walkabout’s neck and the stranger ran his hands over her legs, laughing as she kicked out in protest.
    ‘She’s a feisty one, I’ll give her that,’ she heard Lawson say. He pulled something from his pocket and passed it to the other man.
    Jess felt sick. What were they doing to her? She moved her head about, but all she could see was Walkabout’s legs kicking.
    ‘A bit of the right schooling will soon knock that out of her,’ the stranger replied. Then he removed the rope and let the filly struggle to her feet and race back to her frantic mother. The men stood there, hands on hips, talking and watching Walkabout as she whinnied and nuzzled at the mare.
    Jess thought they would never leave. She could see a strip of raw skin swelling painfully around Wally’s neck where the rope had burned through her fur. There was skin off her shoulder too, where she had crashed so heavily to the ground. Jess longed to touch her, to soothe her and run some cool water over her burn, to let her know not all people were like that.
    When the men finally got back in the ute and left the paddock, she quietly approached Walkabout.