Birgitta the Nun

Part 40 - The Puddle

The wizard gave directions and Birgitta urged the nag on.

The horse was at first somewhat reluctant to obey someone not being the merchant, but soon settled into the new situation. It needed not strain itself. Neither the nun nor the wizard were exceedingly heavy and the journey started out with ease.

After some time Birgitta and Charlie got out of the darkness of the forest. A landscape full of fields and flatness greeted them. The wizard squinted as they rolled out into the bright open. It had been some time since she left her forest-quarters. The horse shook the last leaves and twigs out of her mane and stomped on with confidence. It had been a fight in the forest - indeed, getting the cart through the thicket, surrounded by darkness - but this was a piece of cake.

Soon they rolled onto a small road crossing the fields. Or so it seemed. The road whirled and swirled, traversing the cultivated landscape in a busy spiral, in the end leading into the horizon. But the wizard was sure of the direction and she urged the nag on.

The one field released the other and so they multiplied. They kept on multiplying, on and on, till it all was nothing but one big open farmland.

The flatness was terrible. There was nothing to focus on, nothing to make a point or set a distinction. No unevenness to settle the eye. The earthy shades of the crop would shift once in a while, but apart from that everything seemed monotonous.

There was no telling their speed. No bush swished by, no road-sign appeared to reveal a new district—not even a large stone, to disrupt the humdrum rolling of the cart, wanted to present itself in the road.

"Is this cart moving forward at all," the wizard said, not being very grateful for the horse's effort, "or is it actually moving backwards? I can't tell. I think we could turn the cart back to front and arrive faster."

The nag seemed not to hear this remark but continued in a comfortable pace. She was not used to rude passengers and so she wouldn't expect any sour comments. Today was an excellent day for her. The road was smooth and clear, the weather was light with occasional sun, and she had had a good night's sleep, leaning against a wide tree-trunk soft with moss. If her passengers were sour - she wouldn't acknowledge it for a clover. As long as they were none too heavy or riotous, she would get along with just about anyone.

The horse, just like the merchant, lived to travel. They were a perfect match and would not have wanted to settle down anywhere. Variated landscapes and new situations, also some that gave a struggle, were to be preferred to inactivity and stagnation even in Paradise.

A puddle appeared on the right side of the road, looking not very appealing. It had the appearance of olive oil. Some bubbles were clinging to the surface, not wanting to burst. Charlie took a hold on the reins and pulled the cart up next to it.

"Excellent," she exclaimed. "Horse—now drink. Horse, don't be shy. Take a gulp and replenish your supplies. You've earned it."

Perhaps the wizard felt a bit regretful for being such a sour-puss earlier on. Or maybe she just wanted to give the hardworking nag a treat? Either way, she urged the horse on with enthusiasm.

Birgitta and the horse looked with skepticism at the stagnant water. But the wizard insisted and the horse finally obeyed.

Birgitta felt like holding her nose when the animal dipped its muzzle in the puddle. It took a big gulp, as if to show appreciation, but then a violent cough took over. That was it. To try and make it take another gulp would have been useless. Even the wizard realized this.

"Well, at least we tried," she said with a clap of her hands. "Now let's get on with it."

The journey continued at a comfortable pace and the travelers thought no more about it. The monotonous landscape persisted and a sort of a slumber took over the cart. The wizard rested her head against the frame of the cart. Birgitta nodded off behind the reins. However, soon the horse's stomach let out the strangest noise. At first the two passengers noticed nothing. They were too absorbed by their own thoughts to observe anything lying outside of themselves. But when the poor nag started staggering, making the cart sway all over the road, the passengers caught on and noticed something in the making. Finally the disturbing noise coming from the horse's abdomen took over. It became apparent an eruption was on its way. Birgitta barely had time to stop the cart before the horse started gagging. She aimed for the ditch and the horse went for it. It was violent and it was heartbreaking. The poor creature didn't know what hit it. Or actually—it was quite certain it was the vile water hitting it, but the cramps in its stomach made it confused. The nag's eyes teared up and its beautiful mane dampened with perspiration.

Birgitta hastened to the situation and lifted the mane from the horse's sorry face.

"I feel you sister," she said in her sorriest voice. "I also get seasick."

The horse snorted. She made an attempt as if to lift her head, but failed and remained hanging over the edge of the road. Then, digging her hooves into the muddy ground, she shook with revulsion. It was a sorry sight and the wizard became terribly anxious.

"You won't tell on us, now will you?" she said, pleading to the horse. She walked up and down the ditch and wrung her hands. "Your master would be awfully displeased with us, you know, and that would be a shame. We respect your master, we really do—we're just not very good with horses. You wouldn't want to upset your master, now would you?" She shot nervous glances at the disgorging horse. "She's a good merchant and a fine topdog. Let's leave her in peace—spare her the details, and let her remain in oblivion, eh?"

Birgitta stroked the neck of the exhausted animal and removed the halter. A green hue had replaced the otherwise gray tone of the horse's face.

"You look like a cat, staring down that ditch," the wizard continued with a nervous laugh. Her hysterical words came of themselves, "Have you ever noticed how cats like to sit and stare down ditches? They do that a lot—yes—you see Birgitta, I do know a little about cats." She thew her head back and tried not to giggle, "I'll tell you what: if you're a cat, then the ditch is the place to be. That's where all the action is."

The horse didn't know a thing about cats. Its gloomy appearance betrayed no recognition as the wizard chattered on, only agony and dread. It looked as though it wanted to vomit. And so it did.

"Let's set up camp," Birgitta resolved. "The horse needs rest. It's getting late anyway, and we deserve some supper."