Wondrous Strange by Lesley Livingston

There’s a horse in the bathtub!”
    Oh, right. A horse.
    Kelley squeezed her eyes shut. It hadn’t been a bad dream after all. “Uh…Tyff—”
    “In the bathtub!” Tyff pointed sharply with one manicured finger, her model’s features drawn tight with anxiety.
    “About that…” Kelley rubbed at the back of her neck. “I was going to tell you. I guess I fell asleep….” She stared warily at her roommate who, in turn, glared at the bathroom door.
    “Tyff—believe me—if I’d known he was going to follow me home from the park, I never would have rescued him. I mean—no, I probably would have, but I mean—”
    “Wait a minute.” Tyff’s head swung toward her. “You mean to tell me this is your fault?”
    “I guess so. I didn’t mean for it to happen, but…” Kelley stopped, confused. “Who else’s fault could it have possibly been?”
    “Never mind. Go on.” Tyff gestured Kelley to continue,her eyes still on the bathroom door.
    Kelley sank down onto the couch and told Tyff the whole story.
    By the time she finished, Tyff seemed to have calmed down—slightly. “Can you at least get it out of the bathtub?” she asked.
    “That’s the thing—he won’t move. I tried last night. Maybe…” Kelley hesitated at the suggestion, then said, “maybe we should call the police.”
    “No! What, are you crazy? If our landlord finds out about this, we are both out on the street!”
    “I know, I know…that’s what I thought.”
    Uncharacteristically, Tyff tore at the corner of one polished fingernail with her teeth. She was a “parts” model and got paid huge amounts of money to have her hands and feet and legs photographed for advertisements in glossy magazines. Chewing on a fingernail, therefore, was—for Tyff—a sign of major stress. “What the hell are we—no, wait. What the hell are you going to do with it?”
    “I don’t know!” Kelley groaned. She got up stiffly and limped to her bedroom to find something to wear. She had no idea what time it was, but judging from the light streaming through the window, it was a lot later than it should have been. Pulling on jeans and a hoodie, she continued, “Look, I called the city’s Animal Control, but they wouldn’t believe me.” Kelley went to the bathroom door and opened it. The horse stood there, fetlock-deep in scentedwater, chewing placidly on the corner of a bath towel. “I think the lady who took my call thought I might be smoking something.”
    “If you are ”—Tyff glowered—“considering the circumstances, you’d better share.” She moved to peer nervously over Kelley’s shoulder. “Why does it have beads in its hair?”
    “What?” Kelley hadn’t noticed that. “Where?”
    “There.” Tyff pointed. “And there. Shiny little black gems—they’re knotted all through its hair. Its mane.”
    Kelley edged farther into the tiny room to get a better look. The light of the bathroom bulbs reflected the glitter of dozens of onyx gems.
    “I have no idea.” Kelley was mystified. “They’re tied all through its tail, too. Hey—maybe it’s a circus horse! That might explain how it got up the fire escape.” Kelley reached out a tentative hand to pat the horse’s gleaming red flank, and he whickered with pleasure. “You know, if we both push, we might be able to move him into the living room at least.”
    Tyff raised an eyebrow in silent censure at that idea.
    The alarm on Kelley’s cell phone chirped, and she went into the kitchen and picked it up off the counter, glancing down at the time display. She wasn’t called for rehearsal until the afternoon that day, so she should be all right…except her phone said 12:35 p.m. “Oh no!” Kelly couldn’t believe how long she’d slept. “I’m gonna be late for rehearsal—I gotta run!”
    “Kelley…” Tyff’s voice took on a threatening tone asKelley edged toward the door.
    “Listen, Tyff. There’s a bag of rolled oats with your baking stuff in the back of the