JOAQUIN STEPPED BACK with both hands atop the board he was leaning on and lowered his head as if he'd seen something in the corral too awful to watch. But he was only stepping back to spit and he did so in his slow and contemplative way and then stepped forward and looked through the boards again. Caballo, he said. The shadow of the trotting horse passed across the boards and across his face and passed on. He shook his head.
They walked on down to where some two by twelves were nailed and braced along the top of the corral and climbed up and sat with their bootheels wedged in the board below and smoked and watched John Grady work the colt.
What does he want with that owlheaded son of a bitch anyway?
Billy shook his head. Maybe it's like Mac says. Ever man winds up with the horse that suits him.
What is that thing he's got on its head?
It's called a cavesson halter.
What's wrong with a plain hackamore?
You'd have to ask the cowboy.
Troy leaned and spat. He looked at Joaquin. Que piensas? he said.
Joaquin shrugged. He watched the horse circle the corral at the end of the longeline.
That horse has been broke with a bit, Troy said.
Yeah.
I guess he aims to break it and start over.
Well, Billy said, I got a suspicion that whatever it is he aims to do he'll most likely get it done.
They watched the horse circle.
He aint trainin it for the circus is he?
No. We had the circus yesterday evenin when he forked up on it.
How many times did he get thowed?
Four.
How many times did he get back up on it?
You know how many times.
Is he supposed to be some sort of specialist in spoiled horses?
Let's go, Billy said. He's liable to walk that son of a bitch all afternoon.
They went on toward the house.
Ask Joaquin yonder, Billy said.
Ask me what?
If the cowboy knows horses.
The cowboy says he dont know nothin.
I know it.
He claims he just likes it and works hard at it.
What do you think? said Billy.
Joaquin shook his head.
Joaquin thinks his methods is unorthodox.
So does Mac.
Joaquin didnt answer till they reached the gate. Then he stopped and looked back at the corral. Finally he said that it didnt make much difference if you liked horses or not if they didnt like you. He said the best trainers he ever knew, horses couldnt stay away from them. He said horses would follow Billy Sanchez to the outhouse and stand there and wait for him.
WHEN HE GOT BACK from town John Grady was not in the barn and when he walked up to the house to get his supper he was not there either. Troy was sitting at the table picking his teeth. He sat down with his plate and reached for the salt and pepper. Where's everbody at? he said.
Oren just left. JC's gone out with his girl. John Grady I reckon is laid up in the bed.
No he aint.
Well maybe he's gone off somewheres to think things over.
What happened?
That horse fell backwards on him. Like to broke his foot.
Is he all right?
I reckon. They carried him in to the doctor, him cussin and carryin on. Doctor wrapped it up and give him a pair of crutches and told him to stay off of it.
He's on crutches?
Yep. Supposed to be.
All this happened this afternoon?
Yep. It was lively as you could ever wish for here for a while. Joaquin come and got Oren and he went down there and told him to come on and he wouldnt do it. Oren said he thought he was goin to have to whip him. Hobblin around after the damned horse wantin to get up on it again. Finally got him to take his boot off. Oren said another two minutes and they'd of had to cut it off of him.
Billy nodded his head and bit thoughtfully into a biscuit.
He was ready to fight Oren?
Yep.
Billy chewed. He shook his head.
How bad is his foot?
He's sprained his ankle.
What did Mac say?
Nothin. He's the one carried him in to the doctor's.
I guess he cant do no wrong where Mac's concerned.
You got that right.
Billy shook his head again. He reached for the salsa. I miss ever show that comes to town, he said. I guess this might whittle down his reputation as a pure D peeler some though, mightnt it?
I dont know if it will or not. Joaquin says he stood in one stirrup and rode the son of a bitch down like a tree.
What for?
I dont know. I reckon he just dont like to quit a horse.
HE'D BEEN ASLEEP maybe an hour when the commotion in the dark of the barn bay woke him. He lay listening a minute and then he rose and reached for the cord and pulled on the overhead light and put on his hat and stepped to the door and pushed back the curtain and looked out. The horse hove past a foot from his face and went hammering down the bay and turned and stood breathing and stamping in the dark.
Damn, he said. Bud?
John Grady went limping past.
What the hell are you doin?
He hobbled on out of the lightfall. Billy stepped into the bay.
You are a goddamned idjit, aint you? What in the hell is wrong with you?
The horse began to run again. He heard it coming and knew it was coming but he'd no more than just got back inside the doorframe before it exploded into the space of light from the single bulb in his cubicle, running with its mouth open and its eyes like eggs in its head.
Goddamn it, he said. He got his pants off of the iron footrail of his cot and pulled them on and squared his hat and stepped out again.
The horse had started down the bay again. He flattened himself against the stall door next to his bunkroom. The horse went by as if the barn were afire and slammed up against the door at the end of the bay and turned and stood shrieking.
Goddamn it will you leave that squirrelheaded son of a bitch alone? What the hell's got into you?
John Grady came limping past into the dusty light again trailing a loop of rope and limped on out the other side.
You cant even see to rope the son of a bitch, Billy called.
The horse came pounding down the far side of the bay. It was saddled and the stirrups were kicking out. One of them must have caught on a board toward the far end where it turned in the thin slats of light from the yardlamp because there was a crack of breaking wood and a clattering in the dark and then the horse stood on its forefeet and jackslammed the boards at the end of the barn. A minute later the lights came on at the house. The dust in the barn drifted like smoke.
There you go, called Billy. The whole damn house is up.
The dark shape of the horse shifted in the barred light. It leaned its long neck and screamed. The door opened at the end of the barn.
John Grady limped past again with the rope.
Someone threw the lightswitch. Oren was standing there flapping his hand about. Goddamn it, he said. Why dont somebody fix that thing.
The crazed horse stood blinking at him ten feet away. He looked at the horse and he looked at John Grady standing in the middle of the barn bay with the catchrope.
What in hell's thunder is goin on out here? he said.
Go on, said Billy. Tell him somethin. I sure as hell dont have no answer for him.
The horse turned and trotted partway down the bay and stopped and stood.
Put the damn horse up, said Oren.
Let me have the rope, said Billy.
John Grady looked back at him. You think I cant even catch him?
Go on then. Catch him. I hope the son of a bitch runs over you.
One of you all catch him, said Oren, and lets quit this damn nonsense.
The door opened behind Oren and Mr Johnson stood there in his hat and boots and nightshirt. Shut the door, Mr Joh
nson, said Oren. Come in if you want.
John Grady dropped the loop over the horse's neck and walked the horse down along the rope and reached up through the loop and took hold of the trailing bridlereins and threw the rope off.
Dont get on that horse, said Oren.
It's my horse.
Well you can tell that to Mac then. He'll be out here in a minute.
Go on bud, said Billy. Put the damn horse up like the man asked you.
John Grady looked at him and he looked at Oren and then he turned and led the horse back down the barn bay and put it up in the stall.
Bunch of damned ignorance, said Oren. Come on, Mr Johnson. Damn.
The old man turned and went out and Oren followed and pulled the door shut behind him. When John Grady came limping out of the stall he was carrying the saddle by the horn, the stirrups dragging in the dirt. He crossed the bay toward the tackroom. Billy leaned against the jamb watching him. When he came out of the tackroom he passed Billy without looking at him.
You're really somethin, said Billy. You know that?
John Grady turned at the door of his bunkroom and he looked at Billy and he looked down the hall of the lit barn and spat quietly in the dirt and looked at Billy again. It wasnt any of your business, he said. Was it.
Billy shook his head. I will be damned, he said.
IN THE MOUNTAINS they saw deer in the headlights and in the headlights the deer were pale as ghosts and as soundless. They turned their red eyes toward this unreckoned sun and sidled and grouped and leapt the bar ditch by ones and twos. A small doe lost her footing on the macadam and scrabbled wildly and sank onto her hindquarters and rose again and vanished with the others into the chaparral beyond the roadside. Troy held the whiskey up to the dashlights to check the level in the bottle and unscrewed the cap and drank and screwed the cap back on and passed the bottle to Billy. Be no lack of deer to hunt down here it looks like.
Billy unscrewed the cap from the bottle and drank and sat watching the white line down the dark road. I dont doubt but what it's good country.
You dont want to leave Mac.
I dont know. Not without some cause to.
Loyal to the outfit.
It aint just that. You need to find you a hole at some point. Hell, I'm twenty-eight years old.
You dont look it.
Yeah?
You look forty-eight. Pass the whiskey.
Billy peered out at the high desert. The bellied lightwires raced against the night.
They wont care for us drinkin?
She dont particularly like it. But there aint much she can do about it. Anyway it aint like we was goin to show up down there kneewalkin drunk.
Will your brother take a drink?
Troy nodded solemnly. Quicker than a minnow can swim a dipper.
Billy drank and handed over the bottle.
What was the kid goin to do? said Troy.
I dont know.
Did you and him have a fallin out?
No. He's all right. He just said he had somethin he needed to do.
He can flat ride a horse. I'll say that.
Yes he can.
He's a salty little booger.
He's all right. He's just got his own notions about things.
That horse he thinks so much of is just a damned outlaw if you want my opinion.
Billy nodded. Yep.
So what's he want with it?
I guess that's what he wants with it.
You still think he's going to have it follerin him around like a dog?
Yeah. I think it.
I'll believe it when I see it.
You want to lay some money?
Troy shook a cigarette from the pack on the dash and put it in his mouth and pushed in the lighter. I dont want to take your money.
Hell, dont be backwards about takin my money.
I think I'll pass. He aint goin to like them crutches.
Not even a little bit.
How long is he supposed to be on em?
I dont know. A couple of weeks. Doctor told him a sprain could be worse than a break.
I'll bet he aint on em a week.
I'll bet he aint either.
A jackrabbit froze in the road. Its red eye shone.
Go on dumb-ass, Billy said.
The rabbit made a soft thud under the truck. Troy took the lighter from the dashboard and lit his cigarette with it and put the lighter back in the receptacle.
When I got out of the army I went up to Amarillo with Gene Edmonds for the rodeo and stock show. He'd fixed us up with dates and all. We was supposed to be at their house to pick em up at ten oclock in the mornin and it was after midnight fore we left out of El Paso. Gene had a brand new Olds Eighty-eight and he pitched me the keys and told me to drive. Quick as we hit highway eighty he looked over at me, told me to shower down on it. That thing would strictly motivate. I pushed it up to about eighty, eighty-five. Still had about a yard of pedal left. He looked over again. I said: How fast do you want to go? He said just whatever you feel comfortable with. Hell. I didnt do nothin but roll her on up to about a hundred and ten and here we went. Old long flat road. Had about six hundred miles of it in front of us.
Well there was all these jackrabbits in the road. They'd set there and freeze in the lights. Blap. Blap. I looked over at Gene and I said: What do you want to do about these rabbits? He looked at me and he said: Rabbits? I mean if you were lookin for somebody to give a shit I can tell you right now it sure as hell wasnt Gene. He didnt care if syrup went to thirty cents a sop.
We pulled into a filling station at Dimmitt Texas just about daybreak. Pulled up to the pumps and shut her down and set there and there was a car on the other side of the pumps and the old boy that worked there was fillin the tank and cleanin the windshield. Woman settin there in the car. The old boy drivin had gone in to take a leak or whatever. Anyway we pulled in facin this other car and I'm kindly layin there with my head back waitin on the old boy and I wasnt even thinkin about this woman but I could see her. Just settin there, sort of lookin around. Well directly she sat straight up and commenced to holler like she was bein murdered. I mean just a hollerin. I raised up, I didnt know what had happened. She was lookin over at us and I thought Gene had done somethin. Exposed hisself or somethin. You never knew what he was goin to do. I looked at Gene but he didnt know what the hell was goin on any more than I did. Well here come the old boy out of the men's room and I mean he was a big son of a bitch too. I got out and walked around the car. I thought I was goin crazy. The Oldsmobile had this big ovalshaped grille in the front of it was like a big scoop and when I got around to the front of the car it was just packed completely full of jackrabbit heads. I mean there was a hundred of em jammed in there and the front of the car the bumper and all just covered with blood and rabbit guts and them rabbits I reckon they'd sort of turned their heads away just at impact cause they was all lookin out, eyes all crazy lookin. Teeth sideways. Grinnin. I cant tell you what it looked like. I come damn near hollerin myself. I'd noticed the car was overheatin but I just put that down to the speed we was makin. This old boy wanted to fight us over it. I said: Damn, Sam. Rabbits. You know? Hell. Gene got out and started mouthin at him and I told him to get his ass back in the car and shut up. Old boy went over and told the woman to hush up and quit slobberin and all but I like to never got him pacified. I started to just go on and hit the big son of a bitch and be done with it.
Billy sat watching the night spool past. The roadside chaparral, the flat black scrim of the mountains cut into the star-blown desert sky above them. Troy smoked. He reached for the whiskey and unscrewed the cap and sat holding the bottle.
I got discharged in San Diego. Took the first bus out. Me and another old boy got drunk on the bus and like to got throwed off. I got off in Tucson and went in a store and bought a new pair of Judson boots and a suit. I dont know what the hell I bought the suit for. I thought you was supposed to have one. I got on another bus and come on to El Paso and we
nt up that evenin to Alamogordo and got my horses. I wandered all over this country. Worked in Colorado. Worked up in the panhandle. Got throwed in jail in this little old chickenshit town I wont even name it to you. State of Texas though. State of Texas. I hadnt done nothin. Just in the wrong place at the wrong time. I like to never got out of there. I'd got in a fight with a Mexican and like to killed him. I was in jail up there for nine months to the day. I wouldnt of wrote home for nothin. Time I got out and went to see about my horses they'd been sold for the feedbill. I didnt care about the one but I did the other cause I'd had him a long time. Nobody seemed to know nothin about it. I knew if I grabbed the old boy I'd be right back in the damn jail again. Asked all around. Finally somebody told me they'd sold my horse out of the state. They thought the buyer was from Alabama or some damn place. I'd had that horse since I was thirteen years old.
I lost a horse in Mexico I was awful partial to, Billy said. I'd had him since I was nine.
It's easy to do.
What, lose a horse?
Troy had tipped the bottle up and he drank and lowered it and screwed the cap back on and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand and laid the bottle on the seat. No, he said. Get partial to one.
Half an hour later they pulled off the highway and rumbled over the pipes of a cattleguard and drove up the mile-long dirt road to the ranch house. The porchlight was on and three heeler dogs came out and ran beside the truck barking. Elton came out and stood on the porch with his hands in his back pockets and his hat on.
They ate at a long table in the kitchen, passing bowls of hominy and okra and a great platter of fried steaks and biscuits.
This is awful good, mam, Billy said.
Elton's wife looked at him. You wouldnt mind not callin me mam would you?
No mam.
It makes me feel like a old woman.
Yes mam.
He cant help hisself, Troy said.
That's all right, the woman said.
You never let me off that easy.
Bein let off easy was never somethin you needed more of, the woman said.
I'll try not to say it, Billy said.
There was a seven year old girl at the table and she watched them with wide eyes. They ate. After a while she said: What's wrong with it?
What's wrong with what?
Sayin mam.
Elton looked up. There aint nothin wrong with it, honey. Your mama's just one of them modern kinds of women.