The Island Stallion Races Page 5

  Steve laughed and closed his eyes. He had a teacher back home who wasn’t unlike Flick in that the older he got the shorter he had his hair cut and the louder became his clothes.

  It was good to be able to laugh, to have confidence that he would get everything straightened out the next day and that there was nothing at all to fear. He settled down in the brisk coolness of the night, as did the mares and Flame in the valley below.

  Early the next morning the red stallion stretched out his long legs to the greatest of strides. His hoofs hardly touched the cropped grass before he lifted them again, taking Steve down the valley with a speed that made the walled amphitheater much too small and confining.

  As always when his horse was in full run, Steve had no alternative but to move forward over Flame’s withers, his knees pulled high to keep from falling off, his hands and head on the stallion’s neck. A silhouette would have revealed only the outlines of the horse, for Steve’s position never changed, even when Flame swept into sharp turns that took him across the valley and into the borders of the cane before he straightened out again.

  After a long while Flame’s strides shortened. He slowed to a gallop and then finally to a walk, his body white with lather. When Steve slipped from the stallion’s back he was as sweaty as his horse. He pulled Flame’s head down toward him, breathing heavily. Suddenly a voice from behind said, “You should keep a hot horse moving, Steve!”

  Steve whirled around to face Jay, then looked beyond.

  Jay smiled and said, “I got away alone this time.”

  Steve shifted his gaze back to this man, who came and went without his seeing him. Eagerly he scrutinized Jay’s face. Why hadn’t he been able to remember it last night or this morning? It seemed so easy now. Soft and kind, a most common face. But somehow Steve knew he’d never remember it once Jay had left him again. For it was real and yet not real. The eyes had color and yet were crystal clear without color. The skin was white and yet not white, without blemish—not even a stubble of beard—and ageless.

  Finally Jay broke the long silence. “Nothing accounts for more hind end lameness than standing a hot horse. You’d better walk him, Steve.”

  It was strange that only then did Steve think of Jay’s nearness to Flame. Quickly he turned to his horse. No fire burned in Flame’s eyes. The tall stallion looked past Jay, seemingly unconcerned over the stranger’s presence.

  Steve didn’t move. He couldn’t take his eyes off Flame, so astonished was he at the stallion’s easy acceptance of Jay. He heard the man say, “Really, Steve, I’ve seen more good horses ruined by trainers doing just what you’re doing now! Flame should be sponged off with warm water, swiped, blanketed and walked for at least an hour.”

  Steve answered, “Flame’s used to this. He’ll cool himself out. He won’t stand still.”

  “Really, that’s too much to expect of any horse, Steve,” Jay said with concern. “Please walk him.”

  Steve touched Flame, and the stallion moved toward the pool.

  Jay began to follow Flame, but then returned to Steve. “I dislike interfering like this, Steve. I really do. I know you’re well able to take care of your horse. But believe me, Flame shouldn’t be allowed to drink any water now. Why, that’s even worse than his standing still! He’ll founder himself. He’ll get cramp colic. He’ll die!”

  Steve laughed at Jay’s outburst and said, “Watch him.”

  Flame wet his long nose and left the pool, walking down the valley.

  Steve added, “He knows how to take care of himself. They all do. That’s all they’ve ever known … they and their forebears.”

  Jay said nothing, but he didn’t take his eyes off the constantly moving stallion. Finally he sat down on the grass, pulling up his pantlegs to keep the fine crease in his blue suit. “I suppose you’re right, Steve, but I wouldn’t take any chances.” He looked up at the boy, and then back at Flame. “Especially after such a hard ride as you gave him,” he added gravely.

  “You watched us?”

  “Of course, Steve. There’s nothing I enjoy more than getting up early, before dawn sometimes, and getting to a convenient track to watch horses in training. It really does something for me!”

  Steve looked down at this well-dressed man who might have been at a popular metropolitan club, telling friends of his visits to Belmont Park or Churchill Downs. Yet here he was, where so few had ever been, very much at ease and urging him to sponge Flame, to blanket him, to walk him.… Flame, a wild stallion!

  “I just wouldn’t want anything to happen to him,” Jay said. “He’s too fine a horse. I’ve never seen a better one. You must do everything possible to keep him sound.”

  In the distance Flame lowered himself carefully to the grass and began rolling, his long limbs cutting the air.

  “You sit him beautifully, Steve,” Jay said without taking his eyes off the rolling horse. “No one could have a better seat. It wouldn’t get by in a show ring, of course, but on the race track it’s the only way to ride.”

  “I’ve never raced,” Steve said.

  “I know,” Jay replied quietly.

  Steve continued standing. He couldn’t sit down beside Jay and chew thoughtfully on a succulent blade of grass as the man was doing. He was not sufficiently at ease for that. He wondered how it was that Jay knew he had done no racing. Perhaps he would be able to find out. He was aware from having listened to him yesterday that Jay loved to talk and that it wouldn’t be long before he knew a lot more about this man and where he was from.

  “Do you know why you have the ideal racing seat?” Jay asked.

  “No. I just try to keep from falling off.”

  Jay laughed loudly, and his hair fell low on his forehead when he shook his head. He turned quickly to the boy, only his eyes smiling now. “I wasn’t laughing at you,” he said when he saw Steve’s flushed face. “Your saying that reminded me of what happened a short while ago. I was down South on a visit when …”

  “South America?” Steve asked quickly.

  “No. Southern United States,” Jay replied. “Kentucky, I think it was, but it’s not important. Anyway, I was watching the horse races at a small country fair and most of them were being won by kids riding bareback. There were a couple of big Eastern trainers there, and I got talking to them. It seems they went to the small fairs looking for horses they might be able to use on the big city tracks. They were disturbed because while they’d been buying a lot of the winning horses at the fairs it turned out that they didn’t run very well when they reached the Eastern tracks. The trainers couldn’t understand what happened to the horses’ speed.”

  Jay stopped, and his eyes glowed with an unusual brightness.

  “Maybe it was the faster competition,” Steve suggested.

  “No, it wasn’t that at all,” Jay answered. “The reason was that the trainers took the horses but left the kids who had ridden them behind.”

  “Were they such good riders?”

  “In a way,” Jay replied thoughtfully. “You see, those kids at the fairs didn’t have enough money to buy saddles, so in riding bareback their first objective was to keep from falling off.” He smiled and then went on, “A simple matter of self preservation, Steve, as you pointed out a moment ago. They hung on to whatever was best to keep their balance. They moved forward over their mounts’ withers. They pulled up their knees and leaned close to their horses’ necks, holding mane as well as rein. In doing all these things their weight was forward, where it should be for extreme speed, and in addition they cut down wind resistance to a minimum; their bodies didn’t act as a brake.”

  Jay paused to glance at Flame, who was walking slowly around the band.

  It gave Steve a chance to say, “But certainly that’s the way jockeys ride even with saddles.”

  Jay turned quickly to the boy. “Oh, no, Steve. You’re mistaken. I’ve watched them. They ride with very long stirrups and sit straight up in the saddle with their weight in the middle of a horse’s back. Rea
lly I can’t understand why they do it! They just don’t seem to use their heads at all. It makes me a little angry, especially when I think of what happened in England not long after my visit to that country fair.”

  Steve said nothing. He knew that the crouched forward seat of riding had been first introduced to horse racing well over a half-century ago!

  Jay continued, “I was spending only a few days in England, but naturally I visited the track every morning. And, Steve, listen to this. One morning I saw the trainer I’d spoken to at the country fair, and working for his stable was one of the boys who had ridden bareback! I realized immediately that this man had finally come to his senses. I told him as much and he agreed fully. His boy was using a saddle then, of course, but his seat was exactly the same as it had been while riding bareback at the fairs.

  “Now what disappointed me so greatly was this,” Jay went on sadly. “Even though the boy was winning more than his share of races over the long-stirrup, middle-of-the-back type rider that’s currently so popular, his crouch style was being ridiculed in England. His trainer confided to me that he felt the reason for the public’s non-acceptance of the boy and his excellent style of riding was because he wasn’t ‘fashionable’!”

  Jay paused, waiting for Steve to say something. But Steve was too bewildered to move his lips, much less able to get any words out. Anyone who had read the history of horse racing knew that the great American jockey Tod Sloan had successfully introduced the popular crouch style of riding in England as long ago as 1897!

  “Aren’t you surprised, Steve?” Jay asked. “Doesn’t it make you furious too?”

  Steve finally got his words to come. “I don’t know what you mean by ‘fashionable,’ ” he said.

  “I believe the trainer meant that it was because of the color of the boy’s skin. He was black. His name was Billy Sims. Yes, I believe that’s what he was called. So many things happened during that hurried trip, and all were so very new to me. Although as I said it was only a short while ago, it’s difficult for me to remember some of the terms and language usage.”

  Steve could not take his eyes off the man who sat on the grass in front of him. And when he spoke, he did not recognize his own voice. “Y-you s-said all this happened a short while ago. Do you remember the year?”

  “Your year? No, I’m afraid not, Steve. I’m not very good at that kind of thing. But wait. Let’s see now.” The blue-black head suddenly turned, the clear eyes alive and dancing. “Why of course! I went to the Doncaster Sales and saw that beautiful gray colt sold. I’ve carried his picture in my wallet ever since. I clipped it from a magazine. It may give the date.”

  A long wallet was drawn from the inner pocket of the striking blue suit, and then Jay read the clipping silently. Finally he said happily, “Eighteen ninety-five, Steve.”

  A short while ago to Jay. But to anyone else, well over a half-century!

  When Jay saw the expression on Steve’s face a somber curtain fell over his bright eyes and he spoke with concern. “Something I’ve said has startled you, Steve. Tell me what it is. I don’t want you to be frightened of me.”

  “I—I’m not frightened,” Steve heard himself say. “It’s just that it h-happened so long ago.”

  “Really? In your time, you mean?”

  Steve could only nod, and Jay said, “I suppose I should have thought of it. Details like that always escape me.” The shadowy darkness left his eyes and the brightness returned, greater than before. “Then the crouch style of riding is now being used in racing horses?”

  Steve nodded in still greater bewilderment.

  “Oh, how I wish I could see them go! To think that I have to stay near the ship. The pity of it!” And then the man’s eyes were no longer bright but blood-red in sudden anger. “It was Flick who insisted that we visit Mao rather than Earth. He said so little had changed here since my last visit. The blackguard!” he shouted bitterly. “The scoundrel! No doubt he knew of this all along! So what did he do, Steve? What did he do?…”

  Steve’s face had whitened; his head seemed too heavy to move.

  “I’ll tell you what he did,” Jay went on. “He excited my interest in Mao by telling me of some horses that inhabited that planet. And what did I find? Scraggly, flea-bitten animals that were no more horse than I … or you are, Steve,” he added hastily. “Oh, the imbecile he is, not to know a horse when he sees one! And then he takes me on a great tour of the oceans of Mao, the most boring trip of my life. Nothing but colored water! And when I think what was awaiting me here, why, Steve, I could just …”

  He stopped and the anger left his eyes while he studied the boy’s face. Finally he said, “Why, you’re surprised, aren’t you, Steve? After yesterday I just took it for granted that you had figured out who we were.”

  Steve’s tongue felt too thick for speech.

  “Not that Flick or the others would approve of my telling you this in so many words,” Jay went on. “They’re always worried that people will be frightened if they know about us, and then we won’t be able to come back again. I think that’s all rather silly, don’t you?”

  When Steve did not answer, Jay continued. “Oh, I’ll admit that if you saw us as we really are you’d probably be frightened. Of course there wouldn’t be any good reason for your fear, but that’s the way you are. Sometimes I find it difficult to understand, and I try.… I really do, Steve. It seems you’re always jumping to conclusions without thinking things out. Oh, I don’t mean you personally, Steve,” he added quickly. “You’re doing fine, just fine. It’s your people I’m talking about … your adults.”

  Jay glanced toward the valley where he could see Flame. “And I don’t mean to infer that this is true only so far as we are concerned. Take your own kind. Take Billy Sims. His was only a difference of skin color, as I understand it.” Jay’s gaze returned to Steve. “But, as you’ve reminded me, that was all many years ago. I’m sure the people of your world must be more understanding of each other in every way now. Aren’t they, Steve?”

  Steve looked at the face before him, but no words came. Then it wasn’t real. And yet the eyes that weren’t eyes at all found his own, holding him forever. Would they make him accept all of this that he was being told in the most casual way, as one friend talking to another? He stared back into the glowing, bottomless pits and an eternity seemed to pass.

  Meanwhile he was asking himself, “Is what I’ve heard more fearful than what I dreaded last night, the secret weapons of war and foreign enemies? Isn’t what I know to be real more dangerous, more deadly and vicious than this, which I consider unreal?”

  Jay said, “Don’t think about it any more, Steve. I have your answer, and I’m sorry to hear it.”

  It was the overpowering disappointment in Jay’s voice that startled Steve even more than his remembering that nothing could be kept from this man, not even one’s thoughts. But Jay wasn’t a man.

  “Oh, but I am, Steve,” the sad voice came again. “Perhaps I’m not exactly what you think of as a man, but I am one, all right. You want to know what I really look like? Well …” He paused to study Steve, and at the same time ran a hand through his hair. “I guess we’d better not go into that, Steve. Not that you don’t have a very open mind, but really there’s no reason for my showing you. One form is as good as another, we’ve found. It’s what a person is that counts. We learned so long ago to change from one shape to another that it comes almost automatically now. It’s simply a matter of taste and convenience at the time.”

  He stopped abruptly. “You’re not really frightened by what I’m telling you, are you, Steve?” he asked with grave concern. “Just surprised, perhaps a little startled?”

  Steve got his head to nod. The truth was that he wasn’t frightened. No matter what he was being told, he couldn’t look at this man with the troubled eyes and be scared.

  Jay laughed in a pleased way. “I knew you wouldn’t be frightened, Steve! I knew it the moment I first saw you riding Flame. You were
so carefree, so happy with your horse, wanting only to share the morning with him! I told Flick as much. I really did. But he and the others are such old ‘fuddy-duddies,’ Steve. They didn’t believe me at all. They’re so afraid to divulge anything to anyone.”

  Jay shrugged his thin shoulders. “But then I suppose it’s because they never really got together with a boy before. I told them that it’s entirely different than dealing with an adult. And I’m right, I know I am. Just the short time I’ve been with you makes me very, very certain of it. Oh, you’re skeptical of everything I’ve told you about us, and wary too. But the point I’m trying to make, Steve, is that inside where it counts you’ve accepted us even though it’s contrary to everything you’ve ever known or been told. Thank heavens for your youth, Steve!”

  The man bounded to his feet in quickening enthusiasm. “At your age, Steve, I believe I could help you in many ways if you’d only let me. I’ve always said that it could be done if we found the right open-minded person.” Jay paused and a bold and eager light blurred his features. “We can try it now, Steve, but it won’t be easy. You’ll have to listen to me very carefully. No closed mind now, not one bit of it!”

  Desperately Steve tried to raise his head above the heat that was fast enveloping him. He sought Jay’s face, but nothing was there except an indistinct shimmer of light … that and the blue-black hair, a black string tie, a white shirt, a blue suit. His hands shot up to his eyes, covering them so he could not see the dancing light. “Do what? What do you want me to do?” he heard himself ask in a voice that did not seem to be his own.

  Still eager and with overwhelming curiosity Jay asked, “Would you like to fly, Steve? It’s the easiest thing and the most fun of all. Listen to what I have to say now. You must relax a bit more and help me. Make your mind a blank. Forget everything you’ve ever known in this world you call Earth. Forget all you’ve ever seen and been told. Now, Steve …”