Once upon a time, near a town called Westville, there lived a small herd of horses. They stayed in the field in good weather, and in a sheet-metal barn with rusty places in it on the rainy days. They lived on a farm inhabited by stupid cows, a bad-tempered dog, blackberry bushes, broken down tractors, a community of white and calico cats, and three nice people.
Sometimes a lady people would come visit, or other times another lady people would visit for a few days, and bring a little boy people with her. The boy people would ride the horses or fish, or read books and play something where he tried to put a ball in a round thing attached to a tree. As the people seemed to enjoy these visits, the horses did, too, and these times were pleasant ones. They enjoyed living where they did, on their farm.
After turning onto Morris Road off Highway 62, you drove by the auto body shop and past Jerry Carter’s chicken farm about half a mile, where you’d see the driveway on the right side of the road, bordered by persimmon trees. It was a slightly curved gravel driveway, but somehow gave the impression of being straight. On the right, you’d see a small white and pink house where the man and the older lady lived(their names were Floyd and Betty), Otie, who lived in the back yard, was his usual irritable self, there was also an empty fifth-wheel travel trailer he shared the yard with, and a porch swing. Just outside the gate, you’d find the burn barrel, a patch of wild onions, the little house where Betty kept the things she’d found over the years, and the shop, generally inhabited by two or three lounging felines.
On the left, you’d see a brown and yellow singlewide trailer, which is where the younger lady(her name was Linda) stayed when she wasn’t working at the library. Just behind that was the garden, where corn, onions, lettuce and cucumbers grew, shaded by the apple and peach trees along one side. Farther along, past the two working tractors and five parts tractors sitting around, and past the fishing car, a 1982 Chevy used to drive down to the pond, you came to the barn.
It was impressive, with its large width and height, coated in bluish-gray armor streaked with orange-red, it contained stalls, a floor coated with hay, there was the saddle room, and the loft, full of no telling what all interesting surprises. A corral of weather-beaten old boards enclosed the back end, which led you to the field gate, where the first thing of the 160 acres you’d notice(besides cows, cow pies and trees) would be a trail well worn by truck tires, which if followed would take you to the blackberry bushes and the pond.
The pond was full of catfish, and on the banks were good skipping rocks and sticker bushes. There were also snapping turtles and water moccasins in its muddy water, which Linda shot with her .22 at every available opportunity.
This was the world the horses knew; now to describe them. Penelope was a middle-aged palomino known for her gentle ways; Milky Way, who had a natural gift for storytelling, her sire was Moby, the most legendary(non-human) resident who ever lived on the farm. Rex was a crazy one, but he had his good points as well. He was loyal, and he’d try to help his friends out if any of them ever found themselves in a tough spot. Gunslinger was an ex-rodeo bronc, he was good pals with Rex. Tanner was odd. Her coloring was different, bay markings interspersed with egg nog. She was always a little skittish, and overall a hard personality to figure out. And, of course, we can’t forget Tussle and Misty. At that awkward stage where no longer fillies any more, yet not quite mares, either, they usually got on each other’s nerves and caused headaches, though they had some indefinable likeable qualities in them.
One story, which gives insight into the characters of both Misty and Tanner, should appear here.
It was a typical October day, of the beautiful type just before it gets cold. Tanner was grazing, looking for some especially tasty alfalfa blades. She looked up at the frantic sound of quick hoofbeats.
It was Misty, her eyes wide, mane thrown back in disarray, and her grammar even more mangled than usual. She had a habit of speaking in half sentences when excited or thoughtful, or in a long sentence that Dickens would have been proud of, only without the commas. “The barn’s on fire! She started it!”
“Who?” Tanner asked anxiously. “Tussle did. Blame her.”
Tanner shook her head. “Why can’t you two ever get along?”
Misty paused for breath. “I don’t know, we just don’t. Anyway, we were racing, Tussle and me, and her shoe hit a rock and made some sparks that caught on some old newspapers and hay and stuff on the floor, and it made a fire and now she’s stuck, and it’s all her fault!”
The words poured out in a rush. Cody, overhearing the last bit while coming over from a debate with a bull, decided to go get her. A wiser observer than Misty might have guessed the reason why he did so, as Tanner was extremely worried.
“Be careful.” She whispered.
“I will.”
With that, he and Misty dashed off to the rescue. It wasn’t really needed, Floyd, the hired man, Zeke, and the fire department got the flames extinguished and extricated Tussle, it was only a small grass fire.
In his hurry, Cody stepped into a snake hole and went down, and as humans call merciful in such causes, a blast signaled the end of his pain.
“I can’t believe it.” Tanner said hollowly as the horses gathered around a few hours later.
“It’s not your fault. He just tripped, that’s all.” Tussle said awkwardly, trying to comfort her. “Yeah, if it’s anybody’s fault it’s ours.” Misty chimed in. “That’s not helping.” Gunslinger hissed.
“It almost seems like a part of me is missing…” Tanner mumbled, tears in her eyes. “There is.” Penelope agreed in a calm tone. “It’ll take a while, but eventually, the wound will mostly heal.” The others nodded in agreement.
After a few moments of silence, Misty spoke up. “Mom? You know how humans go someplace really nice called heaven? Do us horses go there, too?” Penelope shook her head to keep a fly away. “I don’t know, I’ve never thought about it. We could, I suppose. What’d you guys think?” “Beats me.” “I never heard of the place.” “I heard I might have sent some people there…” Rex snorted at Slinger’s comment. “You sure that’s where you sent ‘em?” “Well, it was people talk, so I didn’t really understand all of it. And they sound so much alike. Anyway, I wasn’t really paying that much attention.”
Milky Way came out of one of her deep thoughts. “Well, I don’t really know if we do or not…My cousin belonged to a Sunday School teacher…he heard bits and pieces of what’s called “theology”, and passed them on to us. Not everyone goes there….there’s eagles and lions, I know. And I think there’s some horses…I’m not very sure, it’s all so confusing. It’ll mostly be people, I know that.”
“Be quiet, will you?!” Tanner pleaded, eyes streaming. “I just…I just can’t handle it right now.” With that, she galloped away, leaving a crowd of curious equines, some more mystified than others. “What’d we do wrong?” Rex wondered. “Nothing, really. It’s just a tough time for her right now. These things happen sometimes. Give her some time, she’ll get over it.” Penelope said.
She did mostly get over his death after time – at least, as much as you ever can.
The winter passed, it was in early spring. Penelope was enjoying a roll in the nice soft mud and trying to keep up a conversation about parenting with a dull-witted cow mother.
Her mind wandered, she spotted something in the next field over. “Oh my goodness!” she muttered. “I’m sorry, Bessie, I have to go.” The next instant, she was off to spread the good news, doing her best imitation of a racehorse. (This is a very hard accomplishment for middle-aged mares to perform, and it must be noted that if gossip weren’t involved, she probably couldn’t have pulled it off.)
“Misty! Misty! Where are you?” she whinnied. “Yeah, Mom?” “It’s here!” Penelope yelled as she tried to slow her momentum. She couldn’t, and skidded into the pond, taking an unintended bath.
From there, things just got even more chaotic than usual. A cow was being milked in the barn, Misty managed to get a hoof on the milk bucket in her haste, spilling it. The cats were grateful for this mistake, as far as that virtue goes in their species. Tussle lost her sense of direction even worse than normal, winding up trampling lettuces in the garden, and Rex knocked over the rabbit cage, which used to house Linda’s pet rabbit, Mr. Whiskers.
It would be hard to describe the joy experienced in the herd when Tanner approached with her new foal wobbling unsteadily on his spindly legs, saying “This is CJ.”, so we’ll just have to imagine it.
It was a hard day for Floyd and Betty.
A few weeks afterwards, there had been three new litters of kittens, and a healthy portion of the cows had given birth, when a dually pickup with a horse trailer crawled slowly up the driveway. Rex and Gunslinger, who were being saddled by Linda and her grown daughter Jo, watched carefully as Floyd and another man backed the occupants of the trailer into the side pasture. Two piebalds, male and female, stood there, glancing around uncertainly. Rex nudged Slinger.
“She’s not bad looking.”
Slinger looked at his friend. “I don’t know…I suppose she is.” he said doubtfully. "I try to stay away from that kind of thing.” he added.
They walked on a ways. “Yeah? Why come?”
“It’s easier.” He snorted in thought.
“Bay?” Rex asked after a pause.
“No, sorrel. Her name was Bonnie. Barrel racer. Things…. kind of went bad. Trying to forget about it.”
They weren’t the only ones spying. Tussle and Misty were also watching. “Look at them.” Misty whispered. “Kind of stuck up, looks like.” Tussle agreed. “And that two-tone tail!”
“Well, what’d you think?” Patriot asked.
“I don’t think I’ll like it here…”
“It can’t be that bad.”
“Yes, it can!” Cyclone’s answer to her twin came out harsher than she intended.
“See those horses out there?” He looked, and after a bit of searching, found two mostly gray horses staring at them, one dappled lightly, the other dotted with a rusty red color. They seemed to be whispering conspiratorially. “I bet they’re talking about us.” “By ‘us ‘ meaning ‘you’?”
“No….Ye-Oh, I don’t know!” she wailed. “I want Emily back, and things to go back to normal….” Patriot shook his head. “I’d like that, too. But we’re here now, and just have to make the best of it we can.”
Things were pretty tense around the farm for the next couple of weeks.
Misty and Tussle, feeling threatened by Cyclone’s presence, did everything they could to antagonize her, gradually forcing everyone else to take sides. Rex took the twins’ part, Gunslinger reluctantly allied himself with Tussle and Misty. Penelope looked disapprovingly at the newcomers, Tanner, understanding somewhat how they felt, tried to help them, Milky Way grew more concerned each day. Poor Patriot was stuck. He enjoyed talking to some of them, especially Gunslinger and Tussle, but he also had to protect his sister. It was a mess.
In the large scheme of things, nothing major, but when you consider these kinds of situations sometimes break friendships that have held together for years, you can start to see why it was important.
And unsettling.
Things finally came to a head when they challenged the newcomers to a race, Cyclone got into an insult-hurling screaming match with Misty, Tussle helping occasionally. Patriot stood by, wishing fervently he was anywhere else, and the others stood there awkwardly.
“I smell the second Civil War.” Milky Way remarked to no one in particular.
“What was that?” Tanner asked, hoping desperately to distract the combatants.
“Well, it was a war, of course. The Union, as they came to be called, was fighting a group called the Confederacy. It was pretty complicated, but the whole country was fighting against itself, basically.” “When was this?” Rex wondered.
Milky Way looked over her audience, a small gleam in her eye and smile on her lips. “It took place about 150 years ago-“ “That’s befwoe I was borned.” CJ said in his little voice, throwing everyone into laughter. “That’s right, Junior. None of us were born yet, not even me or Miss Penelope.” The colt’s jaw dropped. “Wow….you’re old, Miss Milky. I thought you’d seen everything.” “Not quite everything, but she’s seen a lot.” Penelope answered for her friend.
“So…why exactly were they fighting?” Gunslinger asked. “There was a lot of reasons, but the main difference was over slavery.”
She had all their attention now. “Now, slavery is where some people owned other people and forced them to work for them, and the slaves had to whatever their owners said.” “So…kind of like the people own us?” Tanner asked. “Something like that, yeah. Except they even treated us horses better than the slaves.”
This brought snorts of amazement from everyone, since it so clearly defied the known order of the world that humans were in charge of all animals. “That’s awful!” Misty commented, almost crying. “No way!” Patriot yelled.
“The people in the North, the Union, didn’t like that, so the South split off into their own country, they called it the Confederacy. Eventually they were at war.” Milky Way continued. “It lasted for nearly five years, a huge number of horses and people died on both sides. Each side made their share of mistakes, and they both had their heroes. The North won, so the Confederacy had to disband and rejoin the country. Also, the President – the man in charge of the country, kind of like the top horse in the pecking order – his name was Abraham Lincoln, and he gave something called the Emancipation Proclimation, which set all the slaves free. True story.” As Milky Way had hoped, this made them think(as all great stories should do), and they resolved to try to be more civil to their enemies, although pride kept them from calling the race off entirely.
It was race day – finally, after being postponed three times due to bad weather, and although the contestants felt somewhat sheepish about the whole thing now.
Penelope was going to be judge. “Okay, you’re going from the trees to the gate and back.” she instructed.
Patriot and Tussle made their way over to the starting line, where Cyclone and Misty were glaring at each other. “On your mark, get se-“A loud, colorful explosion interrupted the starting command. “What is it?” Tussle wondered aloud.
Nobody knew what they were, exactly, what they did, or why they were there. Even Milky Way didn’t know, and she was too distracted to invent an explanation. Whatever the reason, they were pretty. The herd stared as the night sky filled with new stars that vanished immediately in a rainbow of hues. The people were watching them, too.
“See those fireworks?” Floyd asked the boy. “Yeah. They’re cool.” he said. “I’m so glad your mom let you come visit!” Linda commented happily. The boy nodded. “Me too, Grandma.” “Would you like to go ride the horses tomorrow?” Floyd asked, because he wanted to, and needed an excuse. The boy’s face lit up. “Oh, boy! That’d be fun! Could I drive the truck, too? Or can we go fishing? Do you need to go to the store? Oh, maybe we could go to the library…”
A small knot of equines gathered in the rain, giving last-minute advice to CJ. Most of the others had already said their goodbyes, and the rest were staying until the trailer came. “Hey, don’t get into trouble, all right?” Gunslinger told the little colt. “I’ll try not to.” he grinned. “And don’t over-eat.” Penelope added.
Why is it that the advice we give others is so often the advice we never follow ourselves?
“Bye.” Tanner said, smiling through her tears. “Bye, Mom.” CJ answered, his resolve weakening a little. “Good luck.” she said softly. The sound of a motor came through the raindrops, and the horses scattered out of the way as CJ was loaded into the trailer that Cyclone and Patriot had arrived in.
“It’s tough, isn’t it?” Gunslinger reflected that night. “Yep. It is. But it’s part of this life we live in. He’ll be fine.” Milky Way finished the thought on most everyone’s mind.
Tussle was looking for somebody to talk to. She found Slinger in the corral behind the barn.
“Hey, Sling, what’s up?” “Nothin’, really, what’s up with you?” he returned the greeting. “Something’s on your mind, what is it?” Tussle frowned. “How do you do that?” He shrugged. “You got a certain look.” Oh. What’d you think about Cyclone?” Tussle hurriedly launched into her lead-in question. “Huh?” He knew what she was driving at, but wanted to make sure.
“Well, it seems like she likes messing with me and Misty. Like, humiliate us or something. And that deal with Rex, what’d you think of that, kind of weird, right?” “Well,” he started, “I’m not sure. Seems to me like she’s just trying to find her place. It’s hard when you get inserted into a new herd, and have to readjust your position and everything. And she hasn’t exactly had help in breaking in, you know.” Patriot stood in the doorway, facing Sling.
“With Rex…no, I don’t think that’s weird. I think it’s a bad idea, but it’s perfectly normal. I also think you might be jealous.”
“You’re talking about my sister.” Tussle spun around, surprised. “Uh, well….yeah.” she admitted, her nerves too jangled to think up an alibi. “Cy’s just trying to fit in. She’s lonely.”
“Yeah?” This was a new idea. Patriot looked at Gunslinger, questioning. He nodded. “Yeah. Well, you see, we’re part paint, and part quarter horses, broke to herd cattle. We were both pretty good at it. But Cy, well, she loved something else. We can’t all be workaholics, I guess. She fell head over hooves for racing. I kind of did, too, but not as much. She was pretty good, best racer of all our girl’s friend’s horses, even won some real races. And she was likeable, and pretty, I suppose. She was popular, and had lots of friends. But then….one day she was on her way into the barn, and somehow the door shut, trapping her tail. The vet had to amputate it. She got a fake tail, but…it’s like, the happiest people seem to be the ones who hurt the most. She’s always been kind of sensitive, kind of….fell into a depression. Didn’t really help that some of the fillies she knew laughed at her prosthetic, or that Emily had to constantly be doing something called studying. She felt like someone had placed .her inside the body of someone named Cyclone; she’d known the horses, cows and stuff, but now it was like a different world. And nobody knew because they just saw the same Cyclone. She felt like an outsider, watching her life instead of living it. Emily went somewhere called college, if we got ridden at all, it was to work. It wasn’t challenging any more, all the fun seemed drained out of it. We were finally sold to a horse trader, and after about three weeks, we came here. You’re Tussle, right?” he broke off abruptly. She nodded.
“Okay. You and Misty’ve been acting almost like we had a disease or something.” “We have? Well, um…yeah.” She ended lamely. “Yeah, we have.” “She’s been through a lot, hope you feel proud of yourself.”
“Well, nice talking to ya, Tussle.” Gunslinger excused himself to go with Patriot to scare turtles. They walked off. Racing…thought Tussle. Racing. Yes! It might work. “Guys, wait up!” I have an idea!” They strolled over. “A good one?” Gunslinger jabbed dryly, impatient to get going. “Shut up. Okay, here’s what I was thinking…”
“You want to do WHAT??!!!” Misty exploded. Tussle quickly sketched out Cyclone’s story. “Hmm…I don’t like it…”she grumbled. “Please?” Tussle begged. It was that tone she used, that just has to be agreed with. Quiet, urgent, serious. Misty sighed. “I guess we could try it…”
Meanwhile, Patriot was having an equally hard time convincing Cyclone to race, although from a different angle. “It’s called the Rusty Barn Derby, it’s held every – three months, I think.” he improvised rapidly. “”It’d be fun, why don’t you enter?”
His sister’s eyes had an empty look to them, where you’ve let all the tears out that you have. If horses wore makeup, they’d need some dark eyeshadow. “I don’t feel like it any more.” “Cause of your tail?” Patriot asked hesitantly. She whirled around, ears laid back. “Yes, because of my stupid tail! And, and – Well, I don’t know anybody, and they despise me, and I’m just – Scared!” she sobbed. Patriot looked at her. “Think about it, all right?” Cyclone rolled her eyes and gave a non-committal snort. “I’m trying to help you here.”
He walked over under a tree to take a nap. “Move, Ferdinand, won’t you? Thanks.” As an afterthought, he added, “Rex is hoping you’ll enter.” Her ears pricked up. “Really?” “…But I don’t know why he’d want that or anything. Probably just invited us to be polite. I mean, it’s not like we’ll win or anything. We aren’t fast enough.” A dirt clod lifted itself free of the ground, helped by Cyclone’s hoof.
“Did you just use that word about me?”
“Which word?” he asked unconcernedly, knowing her mood changes. “The S-word.” “Not that I know of.” He replied innocently. “Are you calling me “slow”?” she asked, right up in his face. “It got your attention, didn’t it?” She shook her head. “You know me too well, bro. What’s the track?” “I think it’s starting at the blackberry bushes, turn at the pond, and ends at the south field gate.” She smiled. “All right, I’m in.”
Luckily for Patriot, there had been a Rusty Barn Derby before. Unfortunately, nobody could remember exactly which edition this race would be, although Rex and Tussle estimated between nine and seventeen.
All nine horses lined up by the blackberry bushes. Puppy Cat sat off to the side, waiting for them to get set. “Ready…set…go!” she meowed. Penelope and Milky Way ambled off, knowing they couldn’t win, so why bother? And it was a nice day for a walk. Cyclone, Gunslinger, Misty, Patriot and Tussle all burst off the starting line, bunched up together in a tight pack. Tanner cantered along, content to finish the race, Rex had gotten sidetracked watching Cyclone, and didn’t hear Puppy Cat’s command. He hurriedly barreled past Milky Way and Penelope, hoping to at least reach Tanner. “ ‘Lord, what fools these mortals be!’ ” Penelope quoted, watching him go by. “It makes a good show for us old girls to watch.” Milky Way reminded. “It does, yes.”
The lead pack had just passed the pond, trampling flat the hay stalks that were trying to grow. Cyclone led by a head, Tussle was in second, Gunslinger in third at Cyclone’s left flank, Patriot a half-length back in fourth, Misty about a quarter-length behind him. “Ow…” Gunslinger groaned as he slowed to a trot. “Side stitch.” Patriot grinned when he heard this.
Stay with Patriot, you’ll have a chance. Misty told herself as they gained on the two leaders, who were scowling at each other from time to time. This is insane! How much longer can she keep this up?Tussle wondered as they tore towards the finish line fence. They’re weakening…Cyclone’s competitive sense told her. All systems go. To Tussle’s dismay and Misty’s amazement, Cyclone actually increasedher speed, her mane flapping and black and white tail streaming behind in her self-made breeze as she rocketed towards the target. “My turn, sis.” Patriot closed the gap to nine lengths by the end, seven lengths ahead of the gasping Tussle and Misty.
“How’d they do that?” Tussle panted. “Practice!” Patriot laughed, only breathing a little harder than normal.
“Can you teach us how to race like that?” Misty asked shyly.
“Sure, I can do that. When you want to start?”
“When would be a good time for you?”
“Why not now? Come on, Tussle.” Cyclone smiled. The three of them trotted off to practice. “Yes.” Tanner nodded, watching them. “Congrats.” Slinger said. “It worked.” Patriot sighed, with relieved grin of someone who wasn’t sure if a risky idea would work out or not.
Cyclone was entered in the race at the fair, winning it after overcoming a bad start and then pulling away. Not only that, but the suspicious glances and tension disappeared as the old enemies became friends.
One spring day, later in the future, Cy gave birth to twins, named Pistol and Pete, another Cowboy entered the world with Tussle’s help, and Misty’s new foal blinked up at the big new world.
“Kinda wobbly, aren’t they?” Patriot said, eyes dancing. “Dirty, too.” replied Misty, licking Aggie all over. “The Filly Gang rides again!” Penelope exclaimed, sending the assembled crowd in the waiting room of the barn into sheets of laughter.
“I wonder if they’ll set the barn on fire.” Milky Way teased.
“That wasn’t my fault!” Tussle complained from her stall.
“They might let the cows out.” Tanner grinned. Cyclone glared at her.
“Or maybe they’ll pour water on somebody who’s taking a nap, eh, Penelope?” Rex put in.
“Sorry, Mom.” Misty muttered.
“They’re kind of like twin twins…” mused Gunslinger. “Quadruplets, you mean?” He nodded. “Not really…just born on the same day.” Milky Way pointed out. “Yeah, that’s what I meant.” “Look out world, here comes the Quad Squad!” Tanner hollered, throwing the place into hysterics again. “That. Is. Awesome.” Patriot choked out when he regained some of his breath. “We’re gonna have to use that.”
The Quad Squad grew, and they, being rambunctious, fun-loving adolescents, caused quite a few frustrations and headaches with their mischief, much like their mothers’ antics before them. It made for a lot of interesting Critter Stories that Linda wrote down to show the boy. Like the time they messed with the truck, for example.
Linda was busy shooting water moccasins down by the pond, the pickup was sitting there on the bank, waiting patiently, when they spotted it. “I’ve got A GREAT idea!” Cowboy said gleefully.
He told the others. “Awesome.” Aggie grinned.
“Sounds cool to me.” Pistol added.
“I don’t know…” Pete hesitated. Being smaller than the others, he was actually cautious, acting as the group’s conscience, which they usually ignored.
“It’d be fun.” Aggie protested. “Well, okay…”
The four of them meandered to get a drink of water, then, they shoved against the tailgate, rolling the truck into the mud, where it stuck. “I think we’re in trouble.” Pistol said, catching sight of Linda marching towards them.
They were.
“…So, since you’ve shown you can’t be trusted to act responsibly, “ Cyclone wrapped up their lecture, trying hard not to crack up, as she saw Misty and Tussle doing. “She used that word.” Pete whispered. Cowboy rolled his eyes. “Told you.” “Shut up.” “You’ll have to stay by us for a few days.” Cyclone finished. “Aww!” Pistol muttered. “I knew that wasn’t a good idea…” Pete said. “I’ll say.” Aggie agreed gloomily.
The mares went off to discuss grown-up topics, like punishment, or something equally boring. “Wouldn’t that have been FUN?” Tussle whispered, eyes gleaming. “I wish we didn’t have to grow up.” Cyclone said wistfully.
Eight years went by.
Linda and Floyd both passed away, Betty came rarely, after she moved to town, and just to feed the cats.
There were only four or five left.
No dog ran through the fields, the pastures were steadily being overgrown by thistles. The truck just sat there in the driveway, no one drove it any more.
Cows no longer drank from the pond; there weren’t any cows left.
Somebody painted the barn white. It looked awful.
The garden was bare of any vegetables or fruit growing, waist-high in weeds.
And Misty was the only horse left. The others had died, or were given away or sold. Everything was in disrepair, threatening to fall apart any second. A state of gloom and sadness hung over the entire property. Brush piles were arranged in crazy piles from where the ice storms had left them, the fences were in indescribably bad shape.
But memories were still in good condition, and Misty and the boy each recalled the good times they’d had there.
And that made it okay.
Sad, but okay.
