Noology by Alanna Markey Read Free Book Online

gate into the box stall, I
surreptitiously watch as the new mother grooms her twiggy colt. He sways on
splayed legs, desperately struggling to keep his balance as she unfurls her
snout to lick his body with her serpent tongue.
    “What are their names?” I question.
    “The mother is Lustre and the baby is
called Gloss. Not the most creative, but I do my best.”
    “I love them. How was her delivery?”
    “Really easy, actually. She just popped
the little devil out in under an hour. He was ready to see the world for
himself,” Bryn replies with a chuckle.
    Gloss begins stalking towards us, no
trace of trepidation in his wobbling steps. I reach out my hand when he is
close enough to touch, but Lustre growls from the depths of her core in
warning. I retreat behind the barricade and am content to watch the master at
work on her charge. The fragile young colt explores the straw bedding with
huffing snorts, and soon a tremendous sneeze explodes from his nose, shaking
his entire frame with its vibration.
    “Bless you, Gloss,” I offer. He whinnies
in reply, and collapses on his mother, suddenly exhausted by his investigations.
We watch as heavy lids seal his eyes and he drifts into a peaceful sleep.
    Bryn and I pivot and begin retracing our
steps back down the aisle way. I stop at the third door on the right, searching
my navy rucksack for a lone sacred sugar cube I stole from the kitchens this
morning. I intercepted the sparkling white block before anyone suspected its
disappearance, and it maintained its geometric shape despite being contained in
my sweating palm. The sairns relish sugar even though they otherwise only
consume radioactive chemicals and hazardous waste materials. I guess this
speaks to the semi-toxic of this substance, a fact ignored by generations of
past peoples that swore by the granulated dust.
    “Leo!” I call, clucking at the half-open
stall entrance lined with intricate silken spiderwebs and captive insect prey.
A slender nose inches over the paneling, sniffing anxiously at my closed fist.
“Come on, say hello.”
    A gigantic emerald head emerges and I
extend my fingers to offer up the sugar cube. Leo slurps up the gift, nosily
crushing the treat with small molars hidden deep in the recesses of his
multifunctional nose/mouth. I stroke his forehead, whispering praises against
his temple. I was entrusted with the duty of naming Leo since I was present
during his birth just under two years ago. I chose his name to pay homage to
the great Leonardo Da Vinci: a unique human specimen and true Renaissance man.
Personally, I think that if mankind is to persevere we must once again learn to
adopt multifaceted careers with roots in the humanities as well as the medical
field. Otherwise, the pressure may drive us to our destruction and untimely
demise.
    I grab a stained rag and cracked plastic
bucket of water from the silver rack beside the door and venture into the pen,
judiciously latching the gate behind me. I begin gingerly bathing Leo with the
wet cloth, careful not to rub his tender sides too vigorously. After
eliminating the film of sticky secretions from his body, I pat him robustly
with my free hand and leave the cramped stall. Just as I turn to disembark, I
blow three times into his extended nostril and look him square in the eye,
murmuring my goodbye. He nods one last appreciative farewell and returns to his
slumber.
    Hustling down the stone corridor, I
almost crash into Bryn as he methodically harnesses two of the petite sairns to
the university medical carriage that mimics an ancient ambulance. The sairns
cannot be ridden, but must instead be driven by coachmen since their sensitive
digestive filtration systems must never be obstructed by either saddles or
human bodies. A sairn will become deadly and volatile upon experiencing the
suffocating sensation triggered by a blocked filter.
    “Can you help me for a second?” Bryn
requests as he labors to fit the yoke to the dancing beasts.
      I summon