The Black Footed Stallion

Like many young females, Megan only wanted to be admired, and not pitied. But sad looks of concern, and occasional horror, are all she ever sees anymore in the faces of others who greet her. Now that her hair has become her disfigurement, it is all anyone ever notices anymore.

It wasn’t always this way.

Megan became a celebrity just days after she hatched near Folwer Beach in Delaware in the summer of ’24. She was the fastest chick anyone had ever seen. She was first to the tideline to forage and then back up the beach to rest. She was the first to reach the thick vegetation when her parents called her away from danger, and she always found the warmest, most comfortable spot under her father’s wing. Not because she was a selfish bully, but simply because she always got there much faster than her siblings.

“Megan, thee Stallion,” they all called her.

It was during her maiden migration that she first noticed the pain in her foot. As she picked at it, thinking it was just some minor annoyance, she suddenly remembered a wise old medicine bird of some strange species she’d met on her way south. A storm had pushed her to roost higher up into the vegetation than usual that evening. When Megan learned he was skilled in the healing arts, she mentioned a minor infection she had.

“Where have you been recently?” the healer inquired.

“On the beach, of course!” Megan responded.

“Well, there is your problem right there. Don’t go to the beach. The beach is disgusting.”

As each day passes, the tiny hair choking her ankle grows tighter and tighter, and her foot swells more dramatically. As her toes turn black as the tissue begins to die, she thinks more and more often of his warning.

People are often surprised to learn that the beach is covered in human hair. They are also shocked to discover just how dangerous it is. A single, fine strand of hair can create a strong noose. Hair is coated in tiny, scale-like structures that can lock together under the agitation of heat and friction, creating a fabric not unlike a dreadnought or wool felt.

It’s been a long journey to reach Barnegat Light, hopping up the coast on one leg. Other young birds have gone from calling her “Megan, thee Stallion” to calling her “Megan thee Pirate” and “Ol’ Peg Leg Meg” with that particular type of cruelty that only the inexerience of youth can stomach.

But it’s not the sad faces, the horrified looks, or even the cruel jokes that trouble Megan as she arrives in Barnegat Light. Those mean nothing in comparison to the actual stakes here.

Megan has always wanted to be a mom. And she’s losing confidence that anyone would want her with her disability, and even if they did, she fears she could never bear the weight of the male who must stand on her back to copulate.

And so we too should hope Megan can achieve that universal dream of motherhood right here in Barnegat Light.

Because if she sticks around, and especially if she can nest, there might be a chance that someone can get Megan back on her feet and set her free.

A knife, Alec, comes in handy sometimes.

Walter Farley, The Black Stallion