We Remember || ONC2022

Chapter Three

I woke that morning with a dream still racing through my mind. A black horse, shining and powerful, galloping on our beach. Feathered legs splashing through the swash of the waves, long hair a streaming banner behind. I sat up in bed, breathing hard and my cheeks wind-bitten, as if I too had been flying over the sand. I threw off my sheet and hurried to the window, pulling aside the curtain.

I wasn't sure if I really expected to see a black horse running the length of our beach, but I was disappointed when I didn't. I couldn't help cast my eyes to the sea, half hoping to see Alder swimming there. All looked calm today, just the shorebirds foraging the damp ground of a sunrise low tide. A part of me wanted to go check the beach for hoof prints, but that was silly, wasn't it? Still, my body was vibrating with the memory of the horse's flight along the shore.

A feeling of strength, of power-of wild abandon-carried me throughout the first hours of my day. Walking my weekly round on the beach near Saltash Harbor, singing a charm for a good catch and a safe return of the fishers, I felt as if my legs could keep moving forever, or at least travel the length of our cape.

When my work was done, I drove my bike to Celeste and Mary's home to join them and Pim for lunch. Over grilled fish, vegetable spring rolls, and a mango and tomato salad, I told them about my dream.

"I don't think it's the first time I've dreamed about this horse."

"Do you usually remember your dreams, Wyn?" said Mary, adjusting her eyeglasses as she studied me. She tucked her short, dark hair behind her ears. "I hardly ever do."

"Sometimes," I said. "But this didn't feel like a normal dream, where things that seem totally possible while you're asleep, are obviously improbable when you wake. It felt real. More like a memory, but I know it hasn't happened."

Una, never one to be left out of a conversation, jumped onto my lap, butting her head against my chest as if to say, I'm real, too or possibly, Can I have some of that fish? As if Mary hadn't given Una her own portion.

"Dreams are so fascinating to me," said Celeste. She leaned forward, an eager glint in her eye. She had a wild, bohemian energy to Mary's quiet librarian vibe. Of course, it was actually Celeste who was the librarian. Mary had a Filipino restaurant in town. "I have a little dream journal next to the bed, and I use it to record every detail that I can remember. First thing in the morning. Maybe you could try that, Wyn."

"Maybe," I said. I glanced at Pim, eager for her thoughts.

"Well, you already know what the books say-"

"Oh, what do the books say?" said Celeste, interrupting Pim, who gave her a sharp look. Pim didn't love being interrupted but indulged her curiosity nonetheless. When it came to books, Celeste was always interested.

"Usually horses symbolize some kind of unexpected but positive change, and if you're an overly cautious person, they might be a push to take a leap into the unknown," she said. "The presence of water only amplifies the possibilities..."

"How exciting!" said Celeste. "Something big is coming your way, Wyn!" She waggled her eyebrows at me, and I could only wonder what salacious yet mysterious event she imagined on my horizon.

Pim cleared her throat. "Some people see black horses in dreams as a presage to a dark, mysterious event, but I wouldn't fear supposedly dark omens. Who and what gets labeled the monstrous dark, is usually based on prejudice." She gestured to her own brown skin as an example.

"Isn't dream interpretation entirely subjective, anyway? And certainly not an exact science?" said Mary. Celeste harrumphed.

"Well, a lot of magick wouldn't be considered an exact science, but it's still real," said Pim. "Like science, there are written and tested spells and herbal recipes to follow, but our Gifts come from within, not from a book. We create just as powerful spellwork on the fly or tailor a charm to a witch's strengths."