Family Reunion

The forest floor grew hushed with each step of Pablo’s parents, their boots whispering over a carpet of fallen pine needles. He heard them before he saw them, his mother’s voice, raw with worry, calling his name, followed by his father’s deeper, more urgent tones. His heart leaped into his throat. They were close, perhaps 20 paces away, a wall of thick undergrowth separating them.

“Old Paint,” Pablo whispered, sliding from the horse’s broad back. His fingers, trembling, tightened around the familiar mane. “You have to hide. Please.”

Old Paint’s dark eyes met his, holding that uncanny intelligence Pablo had come to rely on. The magnificent horse seemed to grasp the desperation in his voice, the impossible situation unfolding. How could Pablo explain a talking horse, a mechanical companion, a hidden realm? His parents would think he’d lost his mind. They’d drag him home, lock him away, and erase everything he’d discovered.