there’s nothing to be afraid of. Don’t worry.” He tucked a book under his arm and drifted toward the door. Willa squeaked out one last question before he disappeared.
“Horace ... you will tell me when there is something to be afraid of, won’t you?”
He paused, a dark shape in the doorway. Without a word, he nodded and was gone.
For the next few days Willa tried not to worry, but everyone grew more and more sullen. Nobody spoke, not even to argue, complain, or tease. They paced or sat in the parlour staring as their tea grew cold. Willa tiptoed about and spoke only when absolutely necessary, in a hushed whisper.
One day Miss Trang’s office door was ajar and Willa saw her leaning back in her chair with a cold compress over her eyes, muttering to herself.
“It’s coming ... It’s coming all right ... Who will it be this time?... Who?”
One night at home, a week after her conversation with Horace, Willa had an intensely vivid dream. A tornado dropped suddenly from a blue sky and roared around the boarding house, ripping off the roof and sucking all its contents up into the sky amid shrieks and wails.
Willa awoke damp with sweat. Everything was still. The room was stuffy and hot. She got up to open her window.
Orange street lamps lit the empty street. Willa pushed the window open. There was no breeze. She was wishing she had a fan in her room when the streetlamps suddenly went dark. Willa jumped. There was no moon, the street was black, and the air heavy. It was hard to breathe. She gripped the window ledge and stared at the street lamps, wishing with all her might that they’d come on again. Then she heard it. Horse hooves. Distant but growing louder every moment.
Willa listened. She wanted to step back from the window but she couldn’t move, she couldn’t unclench her fingers, she couldn’t even breathe. The only thing still functioning was her brain, which screamed at her to move away from the window.
The hooves grew louder and louder. Willa stared up the street, petrified at what might appear. Suddenly, in the blackness, an even darker form appeared in the distance, approaching swiftly. It was a horse, an inky black horse running upright on its two hind legs, like a human. The sound of its hooves grew so loud she thought the whole neighbourhood would wake. If only it would! She didn’t want to be the only person to see this.
The horse moved closer, running on two legs with such speed that its mane and tail streamed out behind. As it passed her Willa felt the hot breeze of its wake. Just past her house the horse stopped dead, not even slowing first, but instantly freezing in its tracks. Willa’s heart almost jumped out of her chest. The street was silent once more as the horse turned its head from one side to the other, then, with a measured clop ... clop ... it turned and looked straight at Willa with burning red eyes.
After a long, silent moment the horse turned away ... clop ... clop ... and began to run again, disappearing quickly up the street. Willa’s knees buckled and she fell to the floor.
Willa woke at dawn, still crumpled beneath the window. She felt groggy, but when the memory of the black horse shot through her brain she was suddenly wide awake. Her body ached and she longed to climb back into bed, but Willa was certain that this was what Miss Trang had been waiting for. This was what they were all waiting for. She had to go to them.
Tiptoeing out of the house, she was again gripped by fear, but the day was reassuringly normal, the rising sun warm and friendly. The paperboy was working his way up the block; she could hear the monotonous thud as each newspaper hit its front door. Everything looked so ... ordinary.
She ran all the way. The air was fresh and cool for the first time in weeks. Birds sang. The town seemed so bright and cheery, she almost doubted what she’d seen.
The house was alive with loud voices and movement. Everyone but Miss Trang was in the parlour. They were wearing their pajamas and robes, and all talking at once.
“— absolute crap!” Belle was shouting as Willa ran in.
Horace began patiently. “The signs all point to a disturbance ...”
Belle interrupted him. “A disturbance! Well, thank you, Nostradamus! We all woke up, we all know there was a disturbance. Do ‘the signs’ tell you anything we don’t know already?” Horace sighed as he removed his glasses and rubbed his eyes.
Mab was in a frenzy, flying around in rapid circles, occasionally bouncing off a wall like an addled moth. Willa could barely make out her sharp little voice.
“We’ve ... got ... to DO something!”
Robert sat sullenly in the corner, punctuating the hubbub with the occasional crashing stomp of a hoof. Fadiyah flapped at the bars of her cage; feathers floated in the air. Even Baz, usually unflappable, was chewing nervously on her bottom lip and moaning.
“The most horrible dreams ... I know something’s happening. Something terrible, something absolutely horrid.”
Belle countered her, waving her hands in frustration. “Psh. Dreams! Nobody saw anything!”
Willa nervously cleared her throat. “I saw something.” No one paid her any attention, so she tried again. “I woke up and looked outside....”
“Stop that infernal stomping!” Belle hissed at Robert.
“Shut your trap, you old sea-cow!” he growled back.
Willa took a deep breath and shouted. “I SAW SOMETHING!”
Everyone froze, looking at her. Willa felt suddenly nervous. Her voice faltered. “I — I saw something. I think it’s important.”
Horace leaned past Willa and shouted up the staircase. “Miss Trang! Come at once!” He led Willa to an armchair. Miss Trang appeared in the doorway in a flash, looking strangely worn and tired. Willa could hardly believe she’d ever been afraid of the woman.
Miss Trang knelt before her and looked her in the eyes. “What did you see, Willa?”
“A black horse with red eyes, running down my street. Running up on two legs!”
Miss Trang blinked in surprise. The others murmured anxiously. She stood suddenly and turned to leave the room, barking, “Come with me, Willa.”
Willa followed, wondering if she’d done something wrong. Miss Trang led her into her office and shut the door. She sat at her desk and began writing, speaking to Willa without turning to look at her.
“I have to go away for a few days. I’m leaving right away. You will be in charge. You’ll find money for groceries in here.” She gestured briefly to a desk drawer. “It would be best if you slept here as well.”
Willa stared in astonishment. “In charge? Me? But I ... I don’t ...”
Miss Trang spun around in her chair and looked her in the eyes again. She didn’t look tired anymore; she looked steely and determined. “You are in charge. Keep the others in line. Don’t let the place fall apart. I don’t have time to give you the full story, but this is very, very important. All right? Will you help us?”
Willa swallowed. She didn’t know what was going on. She felt uneasy and fearful, but this was the first time she’d ever been needed for something important.
She nodded. “Yes, I will.”
Chapter Seven
Willa in charge
Miss Trang’s departure lifted the dark clouds of worry from the household. As she strode purposefully away up the street with only a small black bag in hand, the old folks relaxed into smiles. The house