The Horse Lor

By K.B. Ross

THE HORSE LOT

K.B. ROSS

 

Bobby Adams experienced something mysterious in the horse lot. Was it real, or  only his imagination?

• Language: English
• Publisher: Bev Haynes
• Release date: Dec 27, 2021
• ISBN: 9798201211141

Book preview

CHAPTER 1

It happens occasionally . Perhaps once in a lifetime, but it happened to Bobby Adams.

Bobby didn’t think about events that happen only once in a lifetime as he sighed and leaned against the smooth peeled pole fence and watched his Uncle Bill’s horses grazing contentedly in the California sun. Something tickled his ear and Bobby brushed at his curly dark hair. Bugs, he grumbled as he brushed a monarch butterfly from its perch on his head. Wyoming didn’t have so many bugs.

Bobby lifted his gaze from the animals to an old rattle trap pickup coming down the road. The sight was really nothing new. Farm laborers came and went, helping Uncle Bill in the gardens and orchards. This one looked different. The old faded red pickup bumped and bounced up the road that ran beside the pole fence. The sight of the bouncing, rumbling pickup made Bobby smile. Something he seldom did.

The pickup stopped beside Bobby and a short, wiry man with a ruddy face climbed out. He was dressed in faded blue jeans and matching jacket with no shirt underneath. A shock of thick red hair fell over his forehead and his blue eyes twinkled when he smiled at Bobby.

Could this be the Adam’s place I’m come to? The Irish accent was thick and sharp and that made Bobby smile, too.

Bobby looked at the man not much taller than he and nodded. He pointed to the white frame house further up the road.

The man nodded then gazed over the pole fence at the horses grazing there. Nice animals, he said, still smiling. He looked closer and climbed onto the fence. Well, I’ll be. He grinned broadly. I wouldn’t believe it unless I saw it with my own eyes.

Bobby gazed at the man, then at the horses. What? What is it? he asked, climbing on the fence beside the man.

The man sobered. Well, maybe not. I’d have to take a closer look to be sure, you see, but maybe. He climbed down from the fence and started back to the pickup.

Bobby limped after him. What What did you see?"

The man shook his head and ran his short fingers through his red hair. There for a minute I thought I saw-. Well, it’s hard to understand unless you’re Irish. He rubbed his chin and looked back at the horses. Still, the man continued. It looks like it.

Bobby’s eyes grew wide with wonder as he followed the man’s gaze to the horse lot. He squinted in the sunlight but saw only the horses grazing peacefully. His heart skipped a beat and he turned to the man. What? Looks like what?

The man smiled, climbed into his pickup, and slammed the door. I’d need a closer look to be sure. He gazed into the lot once more then gave Bobby his whole attention. Would you be wanting a ride back to the house now?

Nothing could keep Bobby from climbing into that old pickup. Nothing. For the first time in months his interest piqued to the very top of his curiousness. He jumped into the pickup beside the man, his mind full of wonder.

I’m Berry Donavon, the man said then talked about vegetables and picking fruit and things Bobby cared nothing about.

What about what you saw in the horse lot, Mr. Donavon? What did you see?

Wyoming’s nice, but a bit cold for me. What are you doing in California? Just visiting? The man seemed to purposely ignore Bobby’s questions.

Bobby had a funny feeling that Berry Donavon knew more about him than he admitted. I think so, he said. But I’m not sure.

California’s a grand place. Berry nodded with enthusiastically. A place where you can start over. Get your mind on new things.

I liked the old things. Bobby frowned and folded his arms..

You’re sort of tall and wiry, Berry said, changing the subject. You must be one of those basketball players."

Bobby’s eyes lit up. Yes, I was really good back in my hometown.

Well, when school starts here, you’ll be good again.

Bobby shook his head. I’ll never be able to play like that again. You see, I was in a car accident with my father. He patted his leg. This thing isn’t strong anymore.

Berry laughed. And we both know why that is.

The exercises hurt, Bobby whined.

Yes, of course, Berry nodded. And your father being gone hurts, too.

Yes, he died, and Mother and I came here when Uncle Bill said we should.

It was a good idea, Berry smiled. You don’t know what good things can happen with a move.

Bobby shook his head. I don’t know about that, but what about the horse lot? What did you see in the horse lot, Mr. Donavon?

Berry Donavon smiled and his blue eyes danced. Oh, now. Don’t be mistering me. I’m just plain Berry. And what I saw in the lot, there? Well, I can’t say until I’m absolutely sure. Don’t want to break the magic, you see. He winked at Bobby.

Bobby started a moment then began to laugh. Magic? There’s no magic in the horse lot.

Berry stopped the pickup in front of Uncle Bill’s house. There is to those who believe, he said and slipped from the pickup, leaving Bobby still laughing.

Crazy little man, Bobby thought, climbing from the pickup. He’s crazy as a loon. Yet, Bobby turned toward the lot, his gaze on the horses in the distance.

Bobby finally shook his head and stepped into the house. He saw the door to Uncle Bill’s office closed and wondered if Berry Donavon was being hired. Bobby waited by the door for the odd little man to exit, but when the door opened Uncle Bill stepped out with a tall blond man. They talked about the harvest and what the tall man would be doing.

What happened to Berry Donavon? Bobby wondered. A chill swept through him, and he shivered. I know he came in here, he said aloud. Cautiously he slipped into Uncle Bill’s office. No one was in the room. He puzzled at the happening then rushed out the front door and stopped short seeing the faded red pickup was gone. Where could he have gone? Bobby shook his head wondering about Berry Donavon. If Uncle Bill had not hired him, surely Bobby would have seen him leave the house. When he saw Uncle Bill coming back from the worker’s quarters, Bobby hurried to him.

Berry Donavon, he asked. Did you hire Berry Donavon?

Uncle Bill gave Bobby a puzzled look. No Berry Donavon came in, Bobby. Just that tall, lanky man from Texas.

Bobby could not believe his ears. But Berry Donavon drove up in an old pickup. I saw him. I even rode with him from the horse lot.

Uncle Bill shook his head. No, just a man from Texas. He motioned to where he had taken the tall farm worker to the worker’s quarters.

No Bobby said. He was short with red hair, and he was Irish.

Uncle Bill slowly walked to the house. No, no, Bobby. There is no red-haired man here.

As Bobby watched Uncle Bill, an odd feeling filled him. He turned his attention to the horse lot and raced to the pole fence. He saw nothing, but the horses gazing on the tender grass. Could he have dreamed it? Had Berry Donavon creped, somehow, from his imagination? Bobby’s gaze roamed the horse lot. The sun still hung high in the sky. Evening would not come for hours. Plenty of time for an old rattle trap pickup to stop by the fence. Plenty of time for a red-haired man to tell him about the magic he saw in the horse lot. But although he waited, no pickup stopped by the fence as Bobby leaned against the poles and watched the horses grazing.

The warm sun moved closer to the horizon and a bee or two buzzed by, breaking the silence. In the stillness, Bobby’s mind traveled back to his early childhood when he and his father attended a carnival that came to town. Bobby was six at the