She was standing on the road that led from her house into town, which was the road she walked every day to school. Trees lined the dusty lane and the sun hung low in the sky like a half-inflated balloon.
Naomi held her father’s horse-flavored T-shirt in one hand. She did not know what she was doing there or why she carried the T-shirt, but since it was a dream, this did not bother her. She did not know what to do, so she started walking down the road like she had done a hundred times before.
She did not get far before she noticed a man standing in the road. He wore a gray vest and a white shirt. He had a hat so worn it looked like a rusted can with a dirty brim. As Naomi approached him she saw he was not mean or scary looking. Rather, he wore a welcoming look on his face, like he expected her and her arrival made him happy.
Naomi thought the man looked familiar. She had seen his features before but could not quite figure out where.
Getting closer still, she noticed his vest was embroidered with animals. The animals, stitched in white, appeared to be running free in a gray field, their manes wild and long tails flowing behind them. Right away she knew these animals were horses.
The man spoke. “Naomi, I have been waiting for you.” His voice croaked like a screen door, which made her think he had not spoken in a long, long time.
“Why have you been waiting for me?” she asked.
His voice sputtered as he said, “You . . . you have the horse-flavored T-T-T-shirt. With it you can return th-the horses to En-Endless Ranches.”
“Who are you?” Naomi asked.
“I am a gypsy,” he said. “My people protect horses everywhere, moving from place to place, taking care of them.”
“But there aren’t horses here anymore,” she said.
“I think you know differently or you wouldn’t be here.” A smile opened on his face. It seemed he understood something and was waiting for Naomi to understand, too.
“Then where did they go?” Naomi asked, unsure of what the gypsy wanted from her.
“I think you already know that too, don’t you?” he said. Naomi thought of the factory and the thought made her shudder.
“Why don’t you find the horses yourself? Why do I have to do it?” she asked.
“You are the keeper of the horse-flavored T-shirt and therefore you are a horse speaker. Only you can return the horses to Endless Ranches. My people and I have been waiting for you.”
“How?” she asked.
“My people will help. Look,” the man said. He bent over and drew something in the dirt: three straight lines and a fourth line curved like a half moon.
He said, “The curved line represents the horse’s footprint. The other lines are strings of the lute, the musical instrument of my people.”
“I don’t know if I can find the horses.” Naomi said. She twisted the T-shirt in her hands. “I’m just a girl.”
“Today was your fourteenth birthday. You are not so much a girl anymore,” he said. “When you feel you’re lost, just look for this symbol and you’ll know what to do.”
“How will I know?” she asked.
But she didn’t get an answer. She wasn’t on the road anymore; she was awake in her bed, blinking up at the ceiling.
Though it was still early, she got up and dressed in the dark bedroom. She put on her favorite jeans and a button-down shirt. Pushing the buttons through the holes, the man’s face floated in her mind. She had definitely seen that face somewhere before. Or if not that face, one like it.
She skipped her breakpaste that morning, leaving the house before her mom woke. She quietly shut the front door as she left. The light of the sun was merely an idea on the horizon. She slipped the T-shirt into her belt so it hung at her side. She knew she needed to investigate the paste factory. If people in town suspected this is where the horses disappeared to, then she planned on checking it out. So, Naomi took the first step on the road to town and the billowing paste factory beyond.