Chapter 3

Sylvie stared at the empty room with the thick clouds of dust everywhere. She tried to think of what to do, but the shock and stress of the situation had turned her mind to mush. It was like trying to swim through molasses, and she was not liking any of it.

"Get a hold of yourself, girl." She muttered sternly. "You've got to figure this out."

"Figure what out." Said Taryn fearfully. "We're stuck as centaurs for crying out loud. This is not possible."

Sylvie grabbed at that last statement. "Hang on a minute. You're right. None of this is possible. We must be having a dream or something."

"What, both of us?" Taryn asked skeptically.

Sylvie shrugged, causing her tail to lash back and forth as if it was swatting flies. "I don't know." She said. "You're the smart one. You tell me."

Taryn shook her head in denial. "None of this makes any sense. There's nothing here that would suggest that we've been turned into a catatonic state, or suddenly got ESP or anything."

"ESP?" asked Sylvie, confused.

"Extra Sensory Perception." Taryn explained. "It's a cracked theory that explains the unexplainable. Things like telekinesis, telepathy, and stuff. Supposedly, people with the ability or sensitivity are able to manipulate objects with their minds. None of which," she added, "explain how we got turned into centaurs."

Sylvie looked slightly disappointed for a minute. "Well," she said, rallying. "Something happened to us. And I intend to find out not only who, but what did this. And then I am going to kick their ass." She said determinedly. "We aren't going to be centaurs for very long girl." She said encouragingly to Taryn. "All we have to do is find out who this Roland really is and how he was able to do this."

"How do we do that?" Taryn asked.

"Glad you asked." Sylvie said, with the air of a magician about to pull a rabbit out of a hat. "We are going to detect." She said proudly.

Taryn groaned. "You've been watching too many detective shows." She grumbled.

Sylvie ignored her friend and bent down to look a little closer at the dust. She could easily see their sneaker prints walking around. Moving carefully so she didn't disturb the dust too much, she retraced their steps from the stall. She followed the weaving pattern they had made on their walk through the costumes, but oddly she couldn't see a single mark on the floor that would indicate where the racks had once stood. That was really strange, she thought. Soon she came to the dusty counter. There was nothing ontop of the counter at all except an ancient till that looked like it hadn't been used since the forties. There were no footprints behind the counter, she walked around to check on that.

After ten minutes of further searching she threw up her hands in disgust. Taryn hadn't moved from the stall since Sylvie had started her antics, watching as her friend had gone over every inch of the floor and walls. Sylvie stormed back over to her friend, kicking up dust that billowed out behind her.

"That man," she growled. "is a magician. There is nothing on the floor that indicates that he was ever here. You'd think there'd be something that would show he was here, a footprint or something, but there's nothing." She punched the wall in anger.

"Maybe he was able to throw down a layer of dust?" Taryn suggested. It didn't sound like she really believed that idea, but was throwing it out anyway. Sylvie shook her head in the negative.

"Our footprints are plain as day throughout the area. And we didn't take all that long in the dressing room. I'm stumped." She admitted angrily.

"Well, what are we going to do? I can't pick up my mother's medicine looking like this." She gestured to her entire body. Her tail twitched in annoyance.

Sylive looked around, trying to think of a way out. Her eyes fell on the wheels that had fallen off the costume. An idea popped into her head. "Hey," she said. "Maybe we could pretend we are trying our new costumes out. We could say we were on our way to a party or something. All we have to do is find a way to attach the wheels back onto our rear legs. Then we take little steps with them, or rough steps, like cheap robotics. That should allow us to go around unnoticed, with the exception of the usual compliments." She said.

Taryn looked at her for a moment in shock. "Sylvie, that is actually brilliant!" she breathed.

Sylvie scudded the ground with a forehoof. "Well, I get that occasionally." She blushed.

Quickly the girls went back into the dressing rooms. They were startled to find their shirts and stuff lying on the seat where they had left them. They hadn't even noticed that they were clad only in their bras. Sylvie and Taryn giggled embarrassedly as they quickly slid back into their shirts. They were surprised at the tightness of the fabric.

"I guess our bodies grew slightly in response to being part horse." Taryn theorized.

Sylvie grabbed the wheels from where they lay on the floor. "I've got a bigger question." She said holding them up. "How are we going to attach these to our legs?"

Taryn looked thoughtful for a moment. "Let's take a look around. Maybe we can find something that can help us." She said.

The girls split up and began looking for anything that could help them. There weren't any wires or tape that they could use. Out of desperation, Sylvie checked the bathroom. Swinging open the door, she tried to walk inside, only to discover another truth. A horse body does not fit very well through a doorway meant for humans. She was stuck at the widest portion of her body, which happened to be her belly. She strained forward, grunting in effort. Suddenly she came free with a jerk and she stumbled. Her right foreleg crashed into the floor, sending a jolting pain up her leg, while the rest of her body skidded forward. Unused to this motion, Sylvie was unable to recover and tipped over, landing on her elbow, flank, shoulders. Her entire left side stung.

"Ow, Ow, OW!" she said. Cursing under her breath she painfully regained her footing. She was in a fairly spacious closet. There was a stall for a toilet on her left, a sink right in front of her, and she suspected that around the corner would be an old-fashioned urinal. Peeking around, she saw that she was right. She looked for anything that could help, but couldn't find anything. Not even toilet paper.

Defeated, she tried turning around, only to bump into the toilet stall. "Oh, no." she muttered. She tried turning around again, only to be stopped by the toilet stall again. "NO way I'm gonna be stuck in a toilet." She muttered. She would rather die than admit that. So she tried to move her upper body around, and found she was highly flexible. She could almost lay flat on her horse half. "Cool." She said, impressed. Now for the hard part. She took a step back. Then another. As she walked backwards to the door, she idly wondered how it was she could actually move at all. It wasn't as if she had ever tried walking with four legs and two arms before!

She set it aside for now as her butt reached the door. Her rear moved slowly out the door. Her belly got caught again, but a minute of leaning allowed her to slip through. She moved her upper body forward, looking as if she was bowing, and finished backing out of the stall.

"I'm never going to do that again." She muttered. She went to see if Taryn was having better luck.

Taryn was indeed having much better luck. She had found what had appeared to be a storage closet set beside the stall that Sylvie and Taryn had changed in. She wondered how Sylvie had missed it in her search. Trying the door, she was delighted to find that it opened rather easily. A thick layer of dust coated the shelves and she almost shrieked when a thick hairy spider scuttled away.

"Ewww." She shuddered.

Controlling her revulsion-she hated spiders-she began looking at the dusty objects on the shelf. There was what appeared to be a pair of rusted scissors, a hammer, what turned out to be a can of nails, paint that, on closer inspection of the label, had been bought in 1953, a paintbrush and a roll of electrical wire. Taryn felt a thrill of excitement. She had found what she needed. Grabbing the wire, she closed the door before the closet's occupant came back.

She saw Sylvie trotting towards her and triumphantly held up the roll of wire. Sylvie perked up and trotted forward.
"Congrats girl." She said when she had crossed the room. "This is exactly what we need." Accepting the wire from Taryn, she walked back to the room and grabbed the wheels.  Coming back out, she turned towards Taryn. Her reddish-brown tail swished in excitement.

"Turn around." She said.

"What?" Taryn asked. She was confused for a moment.

"Turn around and lift your leg." Sylvie said impatiently.

"Oh." Said Taryn brightening. Turning around, she lifted her right rear leg.

Sylvie bent over and grabbed Taryn's leg. Grabbing the wheel, she set it on the hoof and began sliding it up the hoof. Taryn's leg jerked right out of her hands.
"Hey." Sylvie protested.

"Sorry." Taryn said. She stuck her leg back out and Sylvie grasped it a little tighter this time. Resituating the wheel until it would sit on the hoof but not touch the floor, she then wound a small length of wire around the leg and through the wheel until she was sure it wouldn't come off. Setting the leg down, she tapped on Taryn's other leg, which she obediently raised. Sylvie quickly finished tying the other wheel on and let go. Taryn's hoof fell with a thud. Sylvie handed Taryn the wire and last two wheels and turned around herself. It was a weird experience, she thought, feeling Taryn tap her rear leg. It was her turn to raise them, one at a time. It was the oddest sensation, when the wire wrapped around her leg. It felt like it was being wrapped around her ankle or something, but instead there were four of them!

When Taryn finished, the girls grabbed their stuff from the stall. Together they crossed the empty room to the stairs. When they got to them, Taryn gasped. Sylvie turned around and stared dumbstruck. The stall was gone, the door to the closet was clearly gone, and there was, if possible, a thicker layer of dust on the floor. She could clearly see no footprints in the dust at all, sneaker, horse, or otherwise.

"What the hell is going on here." She said.

The girls wanted to get out of that store, and they wanted out now. Taryn led the way, all but running up the stairs. Sylvia was close on her heels. When they reached the surface of the street, they spotted their bikes where they had parked them. Sylvie grabbed hers and began walking home, pushing it beside her. Taryn did the same. The girls were extremely quiet, trying to absorb what had happened to them. The streets around them began to change, slowly getting cleaner and brighter.

Sylvie bunched up next to Taryn and whispered, "Remember, don't move your rear legs much, scoot them across the ground." That turned out to be harder done than said. The horse bodies did not want to walk in that manner. The girls barely managed to override their instincts, so they looked like two epileptic horses walking down the lane. Then came the big test.

Johnson's Market was a small drugstore on the corner of 38th and Maple Street. The plaque next to the door said: Proudly serving you since 1920. The market had changed hands several times, until it ended up in the hands of Samuel Johnson, the great-great grandson of the original owner. Mr. Johnson was a very nice young man in his late twenties, with sandy brown hair, green eyes and a slim build. He had never married, preferring the company of his cat, O'Connell. The girls had known him all their lives, and were good friends with him.

The little bell above the door rang as they stepped inside. The heavy clop of their hooves announced their presence to the entire store. Sylvie felt sweat spring out onto her brow as an elderly couple stared at them, they were the only other people in the store. Judging from the strain on Taryn's face and the sweat beading on her brow, she was feeling the pressure too.

"Hello girls." Came the pleasant tenor of Mr. Johnson from behind them. Sylvie jumped in fright and nearly bolted, but was just able to hold herself in check. Taryn too appeared to be struggling with herself. Sylvie willed her to keep calm, and slowly she could see the muscles under Taryn's coat relax.

"Hello Mr. Johnson." Sylvie broke the awkward silence, covering for Taryn who seemed to still be tongue-tied. "How are you today?"

"Quite well, thank you Sylvie." He said, a big smile on his face. Of course, Sylvie couldn't remember a time when he didn't have a smile on his face. "I take it you're here for you mother's medicine Taryn?" he asked. His face suddenly furrowed. "Why Taryn, what's the matter. You look sick." He sounded concerned as his eyes looked on her face. Sylvie breathed a sigh of relief that their shirts and coats covered their bellies, so he couldn't see the seamless transition to horse on them!

"I'm fine." Taryn gasped out. "Just a little warm from this costume is all." She offered a weak smile. "I'll be better when I get it off."

You and me both. Sylvie added silently.

"Well, if you're sure, I'll just go and get your mother's prescription filled then." He said. "And maybe I'll through in a lemon drop for you."

He bustled to the back for the stuff while Sylvie and Taryn waited nervously. The old couple finished their shopping and stepped up next to them. The elderly woman leaned in and said nicely, "Your costume is really remarkable, dear." Her husband nodded his agreement. Sylvie and Taryn blushed slightly. "Thanks." They said nearly in unison.

A moment later, Mr. Johnson was back with a small paper bag held in one hand. "Here you go girls." He said. "There's her medicine, and I put a couple of lemon drops in for you, okay?"

"Thanks Mr. Johnson." Taryn said, taking the bag. Sylvie nodded and began following her out the door. As the door closed behind them they heard him say, "Those are the most realistic horse costumes I've ever seen. They get better every year. Now, will this be all for you Mr. and Mrs. Addycuddy?"

"Whew. That was certainly close." Sylvie whispered.

"Yeah, but now we need to make it all the way home." Taryn whispered back. Sylvie gulped. This wasn't going to be easy.

It was slow going all the way back to the house. They had to keep up the appearance of parading around in costume, but they had to fight their bodies' natural instinct. People stopped and waved to them, or came out to congratulate them on their costumes. They were sure to win the prize this year, folks said. Taryn and Sylvie kept their smiles firmly fixed onto their faces. If their greetings seemed a little stiff, and their good-byes rather hurried, nobody commented. Sylvie gave a sigh of relief when the peak of Taryn's house appeared.

"Let's just go inside your house." She said wearily. "I don't want to try to explain to my mother how I'm suddenly half the girl I was."

"You! What about me?" Taryn said, outraged. "I have to take this medicine in to my mom. How am I going to explain this?"

"Don't." said Sylvie. "Just give her her medicine, tell her you had your costume on today, and that you're tired from your trip today. She'll believe that. We've been gone most of the afternoon. Look, the sun's going down."

Sure enough, the sun had swelled to twice its size and was burning a dusky orange on the horizon.

"Well, I suppose that could work. I'll still have to explain in the morning though." Taryn bit her lip.

"Yeah, but we can deal with that in the morning. With luck, our nutty bodies will change back into costumes and we can get out of them." Sylvie said hopefully.

Putting their bikes in the garage, the girls carefully entered the house through the wider back-door. Taryn and Sylvie walked through the sparsely furnished living room and towards the suddenly narrow and steep stairs. They paused and looked at the staircase in dismay.

"How am I going to get upstairs?" Taryn groaned.

"Carefully." Sylvie said grimly.

Taryn took the lead, putting both feet on the first step. Her tail swished, betraying her agitation. She slowly ascended the stairs, putting both feet on one step at a time. Sylvie watched her friend nervously. She was afraid that she might fall and hurt herself, but Taryn's approach seemed to be working.

"Hold on," Sylvie whispered. "I'm coming too." And she began following Taryn's example to mounting these stairs.

When they came to the U in the stair case, Taryn adroitly maneuvered her body around the bannister, almost prancing in place. Then it was Sylvie's turn. She followed Taryn's example with surprising ease. Soon they were at the top.

Taryn pointed for Sylvie to head to her room and wait for her, but Sylvie stubbornly shook her head. No way she was going to let her friend handle this on her own! Taryn gave her hand a grateful squeeze before turning to face the white door that led to her mother's room. Squaring her shoulders, she clomped over to the door and knocked.

"Come in." came the voice within.

Taryn opened the door and stepped inside. Sylvie peered over her shoulder. Inside, she could see a small lamp that was blazing on the small nightstand next to the bed. The bed was a simple frame bed, with a bronze front and back. Taryn's mother was lying in the center, propped up on some pillows and reading a book. She looked pale and thin, almost corpse-like in the dark. The walls were painted in soft blue, with pictures on the wall. Sylvie remembered Taryn saying that her mother liked blue, and had wanted pictures of her family on the wall. Taryn's mother looked up from her book and smiled.

"Hey sweetie. Hello Sylvie." She gave a racking cough. "Did you get my medicine?" she asked.

"Yes mom." Taryn said. Forgetting about her form for a moment, she sprang forward with the brown bag. Her body landed with a thud that shook the house and rattled pictures on the wall. Her mother gave a start and stared.

"Oh, heh, heh." Taryn stammered, running her hand through her hair. Her face flushed a dark red. Sylvie realized that she was about to spill the beans, and jumped in.

"How do you like our new costumes?" she said hurriedly. "We just got them, aren't they soo real-looking?" she asked, shooting a look at Taryn to be quiet.

"Oh." Mrs. Grogan said. "They sure are." She smiled at her daughter. "It looks really good on you sweet heart. I'd swear you had turned into a real centaur if I didn't know any better."

"Thanks mom." Taryn said.

Setting the bag down on the bed, she carefully pulled out a dark glass bottle from the bag. Sylvie could barely see the contents splashing about inside. Taryn took a set of measuring spoons that lay on the nightstand for just this purpose. Measuring the right amount of liquid, she offered it to her mother who sipped it gently. With a soft sigh, she lay back down on the pillows. Within moments, it seemed, she had fallen asleep.

Taryn and Sylvie walked as quietly as possible into Taryn's room. Sylvie opened the door and crept into her room. It was very different from the rest of the house. There were several bookshelves crammed with books on every subject imaginable that lined the walls. The room was painted a deep red, nearly the color of Sylvie's hair. In one spot, there was a small writing desk set up, and next to it a closet. The bed was in the center of the room, and had running horses on the sheets. Realizing that there was no way they could sleep on the bed, the girls came up with a plan. Together they lifted the bed and moved it to the wall, leaving a large space free in the center. Taking the blankets off the bed, they laid the on each other's backs. Taryn got the heavy blanket, as she usually got cold while Sylvie took the other, lighter blanket. They folded their legs and laid down. They were worried that they would be uncomfortable, and were pleasantly surprised when no discomfort came. Taking the pillows, they laid their upper halves flat on the floor and folded their arms onto the pillow.

"Good-night Taryn." Sylvie said sleepily.

"Good-night Sylv." Taryn muttered back.

Within moments, both girls had fallen into a deep sleep.