"John."
I was just starting to get sleepy. It was past nine o'clock, Ma and Pa were both snoring--but Ma was loudest, because she had a cold--and I was dead tired from harvesting corn all day. So I rolled onto my side and put my pillow over my head.
"John, I can't sleep."
"Shut up, Thomas."
"Is Running Horse gonna die because of me?"
I sighed and rolled over to face him. I hadn't shared the trundle bed with anyone since my brother Jeremy moved out, and I'd grown a good deal since then. I hated it.
"Quit thinking it's your fault," I said.
There was a little quiver in Thomas's voice, like he wanted to cry. "But if I hadn't--"
"It was her own stupid decision to help you. Now go to sleep. You're helping us harvest tomorrow."
Thomas's voice got real quiet. "You think it was stupid that she helped me?" he asked.
I groaned. "No! Just let me sleep. You'll wake up Ma and Pa."
Thomas went quiet again, but just before I fell asleep, he whispered, "Can you tell her I'm sorry, if you see her before she dies?"
"She's too tough to die." I hoped I wasn't lying, but it seemed to work. Thomas stopped talking, and soon he was asleep. But I was just lying there, staring at a crack in the wall where the chinking had fallen out. I waited a bit, then threw on some clothes, grabbed my rifle and a lantern, and left.
The woods were dangerous at night. But most everything I was afraid of could be turned away once they saw the flame in my lantern. I heard a few panthers scream, and what I thought was a bear's growl, but I never saw nothing. I just kept walking.
Finally, I got to Running Horse's clearing. I called her name, but she didn't answer. She wasn't in her hollow tree.
"Dadgummit," I muttered. I hoped she hadn't tried to go too far. I glanced around, saw a faint shimmer, and headed towards it. That was her little pond.
There was something lying next to her pond. At first, I thought it was a dead animal. It was curled up, and I could see the bones through its fur. But I got closer, and it was Running Horse.
I knelt next to her and shook her shoulder. I thought there was a stick caught in her dress before I realized I was just feeling her collarbone. She was breathing, but her face was white and cold when I touched it. At least she wasn't running a temperature.
Her big brown eyes opened, and she smiled.
"I wanted you to be here," she said. Her voice was awful quiet and scratchy, like she was losing her voice, but I knew she was just tired. She smiled. I smiled back.
"I'm helping Pa harvest our corn fields. I won't be able to come visit you for a while," I said. Real careful-like, I set her head in my lap. Those big brown eyes never closed. They were still shining. "When's the last time you ate something?"
"I eat this," she said, picking a blade of grass. "Wanting food only hurts for two nights. Then it stop. I go sleep many times in every day."
I handed her a piece of cornbread and some salted fish, and everything was gone before I could tell her that it wouldn't taste good together. But then again, she probably didn't care what it tasted like. She probably hadn't even noticed. She ate nine bites in five and licked all the crumbs, like a half-starved dog given a picked-over bone.
"Thank you," she said.
"How's your leg doing?"
"It...not has made me sick. But I want to walk, and run...my name is Running Horse, because I run fast, and for much time. I run with my brother and do not lose. But now...I cannot walk."
She smiled. "Good White Man's Speak, yes?"
"That was great, kid."
A gust of wind blew past us, and she shivered. But she kept smiling. I wrapped her up in a big hug until she stopped shivering, and then for a while longer, because she didn't seem to want to move. I couldn't blame her. She must have gotten pretty lonely out here, especially since she hadn't been able to walk.
"Thank you for coming," she said.
Now it was my turn to smile. "How'd you say that word...meeget goggygreen?"
"Miigwetch gayegiin." She looks all excited, almost honored, that I remembered a word from her language. I wondered how many other White people bothered learning it.
"It was actually Thomas's idea for me to visit you," I said. "He thinks it's his fault that everything's happened this way--and I told him otherwise--kid, you okay?"
Running Horse sat up, still shaking, and puked up her cornbread and salted fish. I closed my eyes and wished I hadn't eaten so much for supper.
"You say to Thomas that not is his fault, and I am happy because I helped him." Her voice was raw, but she meant what she said. "You go and sleep now."
"You're sure you're okay? Are you sick?"
"Is because I eated too fast." Running Horse splashed water on her dress and scrubbed. "You not worry, yes?"
"You need anything before I leave?"
Running Horse paused. I'd hurt her pride, I could tell, but her skinny shoulders heaved as she sighed with reluctance. "I need help, please--to go to my house--"
"Sure thing." She didn't weigh nothing as I scooped her up, careful of her leg, and carried her to her hollow tree. I set her inside and covered her with the shawl I'd given her so many months ago. I was glad to see her use it. "You good, kid?"
"Yes. Thank you--much thank you."
I was tired. Dead tired. I was probably so tired my head wasn't screwed on just right, and that must have been why I leaned down and kissed her bony little forehead. I realized what I did, and then we both turned awkward shades of red, and Running Horse wrapped her scrawny arms around my neck and kissed my cheek.
Then, I went back home and slept so soundly that not even Ma's snoring bothered me.