All Nonfiction
- Bullying
- Books
- Academic
- Author Interviews
- Celebrity interviews
- College Articles
- College Essays
- Educator of the Year
- Heroes
- Interviews
- Memoir
- Personal Experience
- Sports
- Travel & Culture
All Opinions
- Bullying
- Current Events / Politics
- Discrimination
- Drugs / Alcohol / Smoking
- Entertainment / Celebrities
- Environment
- Love / Relationships
- Movies / Music / TV
- Pop Culture / Trends
- School / College
- Social Issues / Civics
- Spirituality / Religion
- Sports / Hobbies
All Hot Topics
- Bullying
- Community Service
- Environment
- Health
- Letters to the Editor
- Pride & Prejudice
- What Matters
- Back
Summer Guide
- Program Links
- Program Reviews
- Back
College Guide
- College Links
- College Reviews
- College Essays
- College Articles
- Back
Among the Eagles
There’s a story my mama told me when I was younger. She doesn’t tell it anymore, because my grandfather decided it was a lie, but I don’t think so. It talked about horses before I was alive. There was one story in particular that I can still remember, even after all these years.
Thunder was a majestic horse, tall and sturdy. He had a midnight black coat, and a long thick mane that whipped in the wind when he ran. And he ran. He ran fast and long, and he was beautiful. Humans would stare at him as he ran, wanting to catch him, tame him, break him, take away his freedom and his running. Thunder was fast and smart, so the humans never caught him. One day as he ran, he heard the cry of a child. A human child. Oddly, that sound struck him. He went to the child, picked him up and took him away. As the child grew up, Thunder cared for him. Together they learned to love. Thunder taught the child to ride, and together they learned to fly. They flew for hours each day, swooping, soaring, running on the wind. Higher and higher with every breath, speed that I can only dream about. Coolness and thrill. And freedom. I don’t know why grandpa thinks the story is a lie. Maybe he said that to keep us away from the human villages. I think the story is beautiful and I will never forget it.
Mama says I look just like Thunder did in the story. Tall, majestic, with a thick black mane and a midnight coat. Papa says that nobody could know what Thunder looked like, if there even was a Thunder at all, and the real Thunder certainly didn’t fly. Mama says not to mind what papa thinks about stories. They are meant only for those who want to believe in them. I think papa is too much like grandpa, and I think stories are beautiful.
My name is Alaea. It is hard to describe what it means in the human language. It means speed and freedom, but more. More real and more full. I was born one summer ago, right at the end of the burning hot weeks. I am almost big enough to be a scout for our herd. I will get to run ahead to find grazing ground for our herd, and places to rest. I told grandpa that I wanted to do it to help the herd, but really all I want to do is run. I love feeling the wind on my chest, and hearing the rhythm my hoofs make on the ground as I run.
THUD thud thud THUD thud thud.
It soothes me and comforts me and makes me feel alive.
-----------------------------------
I am running in a field next to where my herd is resting for the night. Papa says I need to be faster if I want to be a scout, so I practice. Except this time when I am running I hear the sounds of my herd running away, leaving me. I run after them, but my fear overtakes me and I run the wrong way.
When I find the field where my herd was resting, nobody is there. I see spots of blood and notice the tracks all over the field. Coyotes. I hope it wasn’t mama or grandma who they got.
I blunder slowly out of the field, angry and lost in thought. Mama has taught me about this. I’m supposed to go find water and good grazing grass, and stay there until they find me. Mama says she will always find me. Papa didn’t say anything. In my fear and tiredness I must have forgotten what mama taught me, because I walk for hours and hours away from the field.
---------------------------------
I think it has been maybe two days since I started walking. I’m exhausted. I have traveled through wide open fields, and forests so dense I can hardly squeeze between trees. I have spots of blood on my shining black coat from scratches and thorns. My hoofs can hardly hold me up anymore.
I finally hear the sounds of a waterfall, and I go towards it. Once I see the shimmering blue pool, I run. It is the first time in days, and it feels so good to move my muscles and to feel the speed.
At the pool I drink. The water is clear and cool, and refreshing. I drink until I can’t drink anymore and then I lay down and sleep. In the morning I run. I run for hours and hours, always staying close enough to hear the waterfall. I find a good patch of grazing ground and I eat.
I run some more. When the sun turns deep orange, with pink streaks in the sky I let the sounds of the waterfall guide me back to its shore. I swim in the water. It feels nice, to be clean again. The blood and sweat and grime comes off easy, and I fall asleep quickly. I have decided that my herd will be here soon, and all I have to do is live for them.
---------------------------------
On the morning of the third day, I wake up to noises around the waterfall. It is humans, two of them. Big men, tall and scary. I do not understand what they say, but one has a gun. I walk away as quietly as I can. And then I run.
I run for hours, and this time as far away from the waterfall as I can. I find a field and I lay down on its edge, where it begins to merge with the woods.
I sleep.
In the morning I am woken to sounds again. Human. Except these sounds are different. Softer, less intimidating. A cry, a wail. I go to the human noises. At first I do not see anyone, but then I notice the blankets against a tree. The human noises are coming from them. I go over and push away the blankets with my snout. A human sticks its head out. A girl. She is small, about as tall as my knee. She has red hair and an adventurous smile. I look around but I do not see anyone. I pick her up gently and carry her until I find a shallow stream in the woods, and a grazing field close by. I set the human down and we fall asleep.
When I wake up, the human is on top of me, asleep. I nudge her off, and take a long drink from the stream. I walk to the grazing field and begin to eat. I hear a noise behind me. It is the human! She has followed me. She makes a motion with her hands and points to her mouth. I can understand what she needs! I show her some blackberries I found while she was sleeping.
---------------------------------
I decide to call the human Anyie. That is the name of a human girl in a story mama told me. I thought it was beautiful. The human girl has learned my name. I don’t know how, I cannot speak to her. It seems we can understand each other, and know what the other is thinking.
Anyie is growing. She is halfway to my chest. I am growing too. I have become stronger. I can run for hours without getting tired, and I can run fast. I run everyday while Anyie looks for her food.
---------------------------------
It has been two years. I have decided that my herd will never come. Somehow though, I don’t really care. I have Anyie, and she has me. We are learning from each other. We have stayed by this stream the whole time.
---------------------------------
It is a chilly afternoon. The leaves are orange and yellow, and the trees are becoming naked as the leaves fall from their homes on the branches. The air is crisp and clear, and the days are getting shorter. Anyie tells me she is ready to ride.
I let her climb up on my back. She holds my mane and straddles my body. I begin with a walk. As we move faster and faster, I can tell she is understanding how to move with the bounces. I let her control me with my mane for a while.
We run.
We come back home by the stream exhausted and triumphant. She rode, and we ran. Anyie is a quick learner, and we will practice every day from now on. As I go to sleep I tell her the story of Thunder and his human. We can be like that. We will get so fast that the wind carries us up and we soar and swoop with the birds, circling the clouds and touching the stars.
We practice until the days get so cold that Anyie must keep a thick bear skin wrapped around her. At nights we snuggle close and we stay warm. We run whenever we can.
---------------------------------
As the days get longer and the blanket of drowsiness begins to lift from the world around us, we begin to run more. Anyie is tall now, her head is even with my shoulder, her long red hair flowing, engulfing her shoulders, and she is strong. Together we live and we love each other. I did not think I would love a human the way I love Anyie, after papa and grandpa telling me they are evil. I know why grandpa said that stories were lies. He wanted me to believe that there was no good in humans to protect me from the occasional evil they bring,
---------------------------------
It is warm, but still crisp. The trees are beginning to bud, green tears shine from every branch and twinkle like diamonds in the morning light. I love our home by the stream.
We wake early, and traces of amber and gold still linger as the world lights up. Anyie climbs on my back. I feel her strength, she adds to me and guides me with her feelings.
Today feels different, as we start to run. Good, exciting. The branches shake off their dew as we run by, splashing us with cool droplets and making Anyie laugh. The squirrels chirp happily in the warmth as we thunder by. I smile. Today is a good day.
We come to a field we have run around many times. We speed up, and the trees begin to blur. The wind almost stings my eyes, but it holds back. Almost cheering us on, almost wanting us to run so hard we could circle the world and come back around to where we started.
We run faster, passing ponds, circling valleys, jumping logs and streams. Once I splash with my hind leg, and Anyie yelps, then laughs.
I run and she rides. Anyie the beautiful red haired rider and Alaea the majestic midnight steed. We chase butterflies and eagles, catching deer in the jaws of our speed, and leaving them behind us and we embrace the wind and the future with ferocity and excitement.
We are as fast as we have ever been, and I feel as if I could run forever. I push harder, straining against the wind, the world, the ground, shoving myself to a destination always just in front of me, teasing me to reach it.
I feel the wind catching me, wrapping around my body, whipping my tail and mane. It engulfs me and rushes in my ears and through my veins, as if telling me that all I have to do is just let go, and it will do the rest. Anyie is pressed up tight against my back, her head on my neck. She whispers to me, “Fly Alaea! Fly!”
I give into the wind, running harder, pushing my limits. The wind carries me, circling me. I run up it as if it were the earth, supporting me with every step, helping me.
We go higher and higher, pushing to the sky, the clouds, the stars. We run and run and fly, the world shrinking below us as we rise. We see mountains and valleys and rivers and lakes, in a view so beautiful I can’t begin to describe it. Anyie gives a shout of joy and I agree. The wind is ours, the sky has been conquered. We belong here, among the birds, the wind at our backs guiding us, throwing us higher and higher, touching us to the stars. We swoop and soar, graceful and satisfied, above the clouds, among the eagles.
Anyie and I. Together. One body, one mind, one desire.
We need to fly.
Similar Articles
JOIN THE DISCUSSION
This article has 0 comments.