OCR Text |
Show UNHEARD MELODIES 213 into some kind of euphoric horse-heaven - I swear, if he wanted to, he could talk a horse onto its back feet in the air so he could tickle its belly. So when we got her cornered he started giving Beauty the business, seductive as Valentino, and she was looking at him like a smug little virgin, regarding that hand he held out as suspiciously as if he were offering her the one drink which causes good girls to fall. But she looked intrigued too, and he was just about to touch her when she wheeled around and let him have it with both feet. He turned too, fast, getting vital parts out of range, and stood there letting her kick the dust out of the seat of his pants. Then she made a break for it past Henry, who was all for letting her go. But Dad lunged and flung his arms around her neck and they went galumphing off across the corral until he got his heels dug in, holding her by one ear and a hammer-lock around her nose, wrestling it out He was panting like a lover embracing her and she was blowing, nostrils flaring like die proud captive princess. When he slipped one rein around her neck and brought up the bridle, she rolled and reared, pawed and snorted and snapped; when he tried to force the bit into her mouth she shook her head and shimmied like a girl fighting off a kiss. By now he was cussing her, all those vulgar words again, sweating and roaring, and finally he reached down and pulled up her left front foot, pulled her head around over her left shoulder, leaned over her withers and forced her down to the ground, he on top like a wrestler with a pin-hold. Then, holding her chin up so she couldn't roll back to her feet, he slipped the bridle on. When he let her up, she shook die dust off and stood there as serenely indifferent as if nothing had happened, no vulgar words, no indignities, no rape. She just stood there working her mouth around the bit, rolling her tongue around it like she couldn't make up her mind was it sugar or spice. But when Henry and I walked up, she cocked an eye at us. "OK," said Dad, "get on her and ride her." "Sure," said Henry, not moving. Dad looked at me. "How about you, Billy ?" "Sure," I said, not moving. "Except the oldest is supposed to go first." So Dad offered the reins to Henry. "Go on. I don't think she can buck more than six inches high." "Sure," said Henry, looking at those reins like maybe they were live wires, all his swagger gone. Beauty certainly taught humility: even with Dad holding the bridle Henry practically asked her permission before he slid one leg over and sat on her. She didn't buck at all, just looked around once, curiously, raised her head and went trotting off like she had somewhere to go and was started. I rode her too, she so rounded that I couldn't feel the bone at all, a warm pillow. |