The Crystal Horse

They have no horse I want to ride. They have no crystal horse. Let me ride your horse, mister.

"No!"

I'll tell my father. He'll make you let me. Clutching the coin she disappears from view.

Relieved that she is gone, Carlus breathes another deep-felt sigh and swings shut the door. This time he hears it lock. Now, alone, he carefully inserts the luminescent fibers up into the channels inside the crystal horse. Working, he loses all sense of time until some while later he hears the childish voice again.

There is too. A bad old man. Bad and ugly. He stole the horse. He said he did.

A heavy step approaches. Holding his breath the old man caps the thread, shutting off the light. The workroom goes dark.

There, says the childish voice. That's the place.

A heavy hand thrusts against the lock.

A voice, Everett, the carousel manager, breaks in. Hey, what are you doing?

A deeper voice answers. You got an old man working here?

Yeah, do. Cleans up the place after we lock up at night. Why?

This girl here says he's stolen a crystal horse from the palace grounds.

Carlus? Not likely. He's just an old man, not brains enough, ya know what I mean. Who's the kid, she's sayin things like that?

God-daughter of Princess Sun. The deeper voice sounds apologetic. We figured

Well, taint so. Why Carlus, he's a harmless soul. Not friendly to the kids that hang around, but can't blame him for that. They tease him about his hands. Say, if you wanta come back later, when he's here

But he is here, he is! A childish fist beats at the door. See, he gave me this

Come on, now, child. Get back up your hill. And take your gold coins with you.

But

Besides, chuckles Everett, where would Carlus get a gold coin like that? Get along with ya now.

The voices move off, the child still protesting. Soon there is nothing left but silence. The old man shivers. His misshapened hands ache from clutching the fibers so tightly. Carefully he releases the caps and light again fills the room.

But now, when he goes back to work he is not singing.

The night is dark. Overhead a canopy of stars hides in heavy drifting clouds. The old man pushes his wide broom ahead of him around the silent carousel, around the horses that seem so lifeless, so frozen in their terrified flight. To the old man's right is the ticket house, with a light still burning in its window. He is waiting for Everett to put out that light. Now Everett comes toward him.

"Bout finished, old man? Everetts voice is kind.

Yes sir, I am.

Then mind don't work too late.

No sir, no I won't. He wishes Everett would hurry.

Everett puts a hand on his shoulder. You feel all right, Carlus? You don't look so good.

Carlus stands motionless, feeling Everett's puzzled concern. Then Everett shrugs and turns away. Good night.

As soon as Everett's footsteps fade, the old man drops his broom and quickly turns to the silent carousel.

The old man is very tired. He has removed the wooden horses, but now, when it's time to bring the crystal steed from his dark room his arms are heavy, his step is slow.

Mister, a voice behind him speaks. Can I ride now?

The old man is stunned to stillness. Where did she come from? How long has she been watching? Slowly he turns. The child is in the doorway, her eyes glowing as though from a light within, her hair is a sparkling halo around her hopeful face. Can I? Please?