Firefly

 by Arabella Waugh

Auckland, New Zealand, November 1873

”Rose Miller, you are expected in Mother Bernard’s office in exactly five minutes!'”

I jumped when I heard my name. ”Oh, no.” I thought. ”What have I done now?” I stood up from my school desk and ran my hands over my coarse grey calico skirt, but I shouldn’t of bothered. I don’t think even ironing could of taken out the stubborn wrinkles. ”Yes, ma’am,” I replied to Hilda, the only servant here at the Sisters Of Mercy children’s home.

As I walked past, she said in a low voice, ”She wants you to wear your best dress”.  That was odd. Why should I wear my best dress if she wanted to scold me about something? Maybe she needed me for something else? I walked as quickly as I could to the cramped room where all 27 of us girls slept. I struggled into what was supposed to be my best dress. It wasn’t much better than my other one. At least the ugly green castoff didn’t have so many tears.

Fumbling with the unmatched buttons, I hurried to the office. I knocked twice, and a muffled voice from inside called, ”Come in.”  I turned the handle to the big Kauri door, and what I saw inside made my heart stand still.  A woman dressed in an elaborate pale peach- coloured traveling suit was seated beside her husband in equally expensive-looking clothes.

I tried to remember my manners and say How do you do?, but only one thought raced through my mind, ”Nobody is asked to see rich people like this unless they’re being considered for-” I could hardly dare to think the wonderful word – Adoption.  My tongue seemed glued to the roof of my mouth.

”Ah, Rose. There you are.” Mother Bernard smiled, but her smile didn’t reach the cold blue eyes in her pinched old face. ”I would like to introduce you to Captain Taylor and his wife, who are from New Plymouth.” Mother Bernard said icily.

Yikes! They must of travelled for days to get here, New Plymouth was ages away. I turned my attention to Mrs Taylor. Her emerald green eyes were about as warm and friendly as Mother Bernard’s were cold and mean.

”Hello, Rose.” She said with a smile, a real smile. She had the most beautiful dark blonde hair, held loosely in a bun.  Captain Taylor’s hair was dark brown, almost the same colour as mine. He was just as kind as his wife, and I immediately   liked both of them. I spoke with the Taylors for about ten minutes, until Mother Bernard told me to return to my studies. Saying goodbye as politely as I could manage, I left the dark gloomy room. 

*********

Three hours later I found myself in a luxurious four- horse stagecoach seated between the two people I would spend the rest of my life with! I didn’t know if I was nervous or excited. I didn’t say much either -I have always been a bit shy- but the Taylors were kind and understanding.

It took eight long, exhausting days to travel to the coastal city of New Plymouth. Not that I’m complaining, though. All I did was sit there in the grand coach’s cushions like a pampered queen, but I think that’s what was so tiring about it.

While they were alive, my parents were not rich people. I always had my fair share in helping Mother and Father, so I was not used to sitting still for so long. We never had free time at the Home, (Mother Bernard was obsessed with cleanliness,) and she hated anything ”frivolous.”  

On that drive I learnt a lot about the Taylors. Mrs. Taylor was unable to have children, and so that is why they came so far for me. Captain Taylor used to be a sea captain, but he only sailed occasionally now. The Taylors have renamed me Rosetta Anne Taylor, because they didn’t want to confuse things by changing it completely. I like it, even though it’s a bit too sophisticated   for an orphan like me!

Once, while we were travelling, Mrs Taylor caught me stroking one of the horses’ sleek brown necks. Instantly she exclaimed, ”Oh, Rosetta, you’ll get horse hairs on your new dress, leave the horses for the driver to care for!”, for they had bought me three new dresses before leaving Auckland. Captain Taylor noticed my disappointment  at leaving them, and asked me why I was fond of horses. And so the whole story came out.      

*********

 Before Father died, he was the top stable man for a wealthy man in Auckland, but his death meant no home for Mother and I. We tried to stay together for a month, but Mother just couldn’t take care of me any longer, and I was sent to the Home. Mother sadly died of an accident at the place where she worked six months later. 

When the day finally came that we reached my new home, my first glimpse of the house took my breath away. It had beautiful white exterior walls, a deep red roof, and there were all these pale green fancy trim things, like lace on a dress. There was even some sort of turret emerging from the sloping roof! The Taylors started to leave the coach, but I just sat there staring.

A Kereru swooped past, and Captain Taylor said, ”Do you like it?”

That snapped me out of dreamland. ”Oh, s-sorry. I was daydreaming. Y-yes, it’s the most beautiful house I’ve ever seen.” I stammered.  

Inside the house was even better. There were gorgeous flowered lampshades, unlike the plain glass lamps I knew so well. Instead of  plain cotton curtains, there were deep blue blinds in elaborate bunches. And they had such beautiful floral carpets! By the way she excitedly showed me around the house, you could tell that Mrs Taylor was awfully proud of her beautiful home.

That night, when I went to bed in my new room with blue flowered wallpaper, the Captain asked, ”Rose, I know you’ve only just arrived, but I know how much you like horses. Would like to have your own pony someday?”

I bounced up in my schoolhouse-patterned quilt and said, ”Yes! Oh, I would love a pony ever so much! Thank you, thank you!”

”Oh, calm down, Rosetta!” Captain Taylor laughed.

******************

Every now and then for the next few weeks I met lots of possible ponies. We saw chestnuts, bays, greys, and even a few spotted ones. Each time we decided that the pony wasn’t right. Actually, I would of loved to take all of them home, but I was only allowed one pony. I wanted to make the right choice. One day, we heard that Mr Clarke, who lived near us, had a nice little pony. He lived very close so we walked there. I rode the brown gelding around the Clarke orchard, but I found him quite uncomfortable to ride.

My new parents stayed to talk for a while, so I wandered off to look around. After I had walked for quite a while I heard a shrill whinny.  I ran around a barn and the sight that met my eyes took my breath away.

The most stunning chestnut pony with a perfect white blaze and three white stockings was galloping hard, trying to find some way to escape from her paddock, framed with arching Pohutukawa trees in full bloom.

She was an Arabian, you could tell from her slender frame and pretty dished face. I also noticed that she was small for an Arab, only about 14 hands high.

I stood there and gazed at her as she galloped under the bright red flowers for a minute, but loud harsh voices brought me back to reality. Two men were lashing ropes out at her, trying to catch her. I then realized just how scared the mare was, her eyes showed white all around, her teeth were bared, her ears were pinned flat to her skull. I screamed at the men to stop. ”You’re hurting her! Leave her alone!”

They either couldn’t hear me above the thumping hooves, or they chose to completely ignore me. The exhausted , beautiful pony paused for a minute to catch her breath, but the heartless men were waiting with their cruel ropes.

Seizing their only chance, they lashed out from either side, lassos grasping her sweating chestnut neck. I winced as if I was the one being roped, envisioning the burns she would be feeling. She tried backing up, but the fence was in the way, and the ropes made her incapable of leaping forward. My voice was hoarse now,  but yelling at them didn’t make a difference anyway. Then suddenly, the horse was still. She was still scared, but the look of absolute terror had left her face as she stared intently at something we couldn’t see.

I know that I will never forget the look on her beautiful face when I realized that she was staring at me. The picture is branded into my mind as clearly as a photograph, only in full colour. It was as if she knew I was safe, that I wanted to help her, as if she was begging me with her eyes to rescue her.

Then one of the men yanked on his rope for absolutely no reason, sending her into another panicked frenzy. I watched dumbly as they hauled her out of the paddock. She gave up and followed dispiritedly, dragging her hooves on the dusty ground. At that point Mr Clarke, Captain Taylor and Mrs Taylor showed up. ”Oh, Rosetta! We didn’t know where you were! Are you alright? We heard shouting.” Mrs Taylor said worriedly. I assured her that I was completely fine. Then I asked Mr Clarke, ”Excuse me sir, does that chestnut Arabian belong to you?” gesturing in the horse’s direction.

He frowned. ”Yes, she does, unfortunately. She’s more trouble than she’s worth, and that horse is worth a lot of money, she is. I got her shipped all the way from England, by your own adoptive father, so the Captain can tell you all about her himself. Her name’s Firefly, by the way.”  Firefly! what a perfect name!

On the walk home, I asked a million questions about Firefly. ”That horse is a born trouble maker.” Captain Taylor told me. ”It’s probably best to forget about her. Most people on that ship were terrified of her, and those who weren’t afraid nearly hated her.”        

I was silent for a moment. Then I asked cautiously, ”You did promise to buy me whatever horse I wanted, didn’t you?”

The Captain frowned. ”If you are about to ask for Firefly, don’t bother. The answer is no.” he said sternly.

 ”I don’t want you to get hurt.” Mrs Taylor added.

”But I’ve lived with horses all my life! I cried. ”Father used to gentle even the most difficult horses, and he often let me help. Can’t I at least try?”

My new father squeezed my shoulder apologetically. ”I’m sorry Rosetta. It’s just not safe.”

Defeated, I stopped talking for the rest of the walk home. But I hadn’t given up yet.

*****************

 After I had lived with the Taylors for a whole month,  I was sent to school. I walked there by myself every day, and on my third day I had an idea. The road to my new school came right past the Clarke farm. On my way home, I slipped through a gap in the thick row of Harakeke flax and there, right before my eyes was Firefly, chestnut mane rippling in the soft breeze.

”Firefly!” I called, softly.

She snorted, pawed the ground, and went back to grazing. I climbed up slowly, and sat atop the rough-sawn fence.

”Hey, girl. Do you remember me?” She put her beautiful head up and stared at me. I kept up the one-sided conversation for ten minutes, then reluctantly turned back toward home. Mrs Taylor would wonder where I was if I stayed any longer.      

For the next eight weeks I met Firefly every weekday. I felt guilty for disobeying my new parents, but I already loved Firefly too much to let her go. ”Anyway,” I reassured myself,’ ‘It’s only until I can prove to them that she isn’t dangerous.”  

At first she wouldn’t go near me. So, I just went on talking to her each day, like my father used to do. Horses love it when you speak to them, they find it as soothing as a lullaby. Each day she grazed closer and closer to me, her big chromatic eyes never leaving mine.

After five days, I decided to try to stroke her. Trying to remember everything that Father had taught me, I inched towards her as quietly as possible. She stayed there trembling, and I slowly reached up my hand, expecting her to shy away.  I placed my hand on her silky chestnut neck, and she tensed, but didn’t leap away! She didn’t even turn her head! I stroked her beautiful fur three times, and quietly walked away.

I climbed the fence and started to leave, but then I heard a nicker.”I wonder if there’s another horse close by?” I thought, puzzled. ”Firefly is much too scared of me to nicker.’‘ I turned around and there was Firefly, trotting after me! She was actually sad to see me go! ”Oh, you wonderful horse!” I cried joyfully, and with a smile wider than the ocean, I ran back home.

A few days later, I brought an old halter with me that used to belong to Captain Taylor’s bay mare, Flash. I’m sure Firefly once trusted humans, because she was learning much faster than a truly wild horse. When I was satisfied that she was relaxed enough, I very gently lifted the halter to her head. Firefly whinnied in protest, trotting away and shaking her head. I tried a few more times, but she obviously wasn’t ready yet. Over the next few days, she let me stroke more and more of her body, and three days later she was haltered

While Firefly was improving, I was beginning to feel at home here. Two months after coming to New Plymouth, I started calling them Mother and Father. I found it kind of awkward at first, but they always seemed so happy when I did, so it soon felt as natural as if they were my real parents.  

One day, when three months had passed since I had come here, I led Firefly out of her paddock. I couldn’t handle hiding it from my parents any longer! If they saw how changed she was, surely they would buy her for me? Firefly was behaving herself impeccably. When we reached the door, I quickly tied Firefly to the Karo tree that grew outside the front door, and called my parents outside. I led them to the tree, and when we got there Firefly was dozing on her feet, completely relaxed.

”Where did you get that lovely pony?” Mother asked. ”She looks very relaxed.” Father added. I walked over to Firefly and placed my hand on her neck, and said carefully,

”This horse is Firefly.”

Mother gasped, and a choking sound came from my shocked Father. ”How did she- what did you- where did she come from?” he asked, stumbling over the words.

‘Did Mr Clarke tame her?” Mother added, bewildered.  

”No, I did.”

”You did!” they cried at the same time.

”I’ve been taming her or a few minutes each day, on my way back from school. ” Seeing the looks on their faces, I added, ”I’m really sorry! I know it was wrong. But I thought maybe you would let me have her, now that she’s safe to handle?”

”Go to your room, Rosetta. I’m taking this horse back where she belongs” Father said sternly, but I could hear sadness in his voice. I ran to my room, tears streaming down my cheeks

************

For weeks, I tried not to be miserable, for my parents sake. They had both explained to me that the only reason they couldn’t purchase Firefly was because it was wrong of me to disobey them, and I could of been hurt. It didn’t make me miss her any less, though.

A month after losing Firefly, on the 15th of march, it was my 13th birthday. Mother ordered a wonderful big white cake covered in flowers, and they gave me a beautiful sky-blue dress, with lace in more places than I thought possible. I was very grateful to Mother and Father, but I couldn’t help thinking that it could of been even better if Firefly was here too.

 Near the end of the day, Father said to me; ” Could you come outside for a minute? We have a surprise for you.”

I followed him outside, and with a sinking feeling I realized that they must of bought me a pony. I didn’t want to replace Firefly so soon. As I walked through the door, I searched my mind desperately for a way to pretend I was pleased , but nothing could of prepared me for what I saw. There, standing before me, was….

Firefly.

I gasped. My knees nearly gave way. Choking back a sob I ran to her, and threw my arms around her neck. I didn’t even stop to wonder why my parents had changed their minds, I’d find out later.  Tears of joy were streaming down my face as I cried, ”Firefly, oh Firefly! I’ll never leave you again. We’ll have so many adventures together, won’t we beautiful girl?

And my dear, sweet Firefly nickered, the most wonderful sound in the world.