Thursday, January 26, 2012

These are the days of EL RANCHO TEXACO ..... Filly

She was real pretty. Dark and glossy like her mother, with a white mark right down the middle of her forehead. And even though the wings were still a little damp, you could tell they'd be long and graceful. David just sat there taking it all in. The mama, Sybil, was real nice. Some horses (and sky-ponies act like any other horse) get skittish. Some mares are different. But she was not like that. Just stood there, right next to her little one and quietly taking her feed.


David asked - When can I ride her?
Whitey, the stable boss, said - What you mean? Here, like on the ground, or up in the air?I know you know what yer cousins get away with, but they just a bunch a half wild, asshole, shitheads, if you ask me. And please don't tell yer pop-pop I said that. OK?
No, I won't - said David. I keep everybody's cursin' secrets 'round here. You know that. That's how come I got so much money in my piggy bank. So when, whitey? When can I ride her?


Don't you think it'd be better if you let her grow some first? - said the stable boss. Give her a while. You know how it goes. Gonna be nine months at least. And I am talkin' 'bout Mars months. Look,I know yer grandma still holds to that Earth calendar. Her and that crazy ree-ligion she got. But I was raised different.


Why you tellin' me all this? - said the grandson. I don't know nothin' 'bout no religion. One a the Tuva-Tuva girls got a little jade bowl she talks to. That a religion?


That's 'her' religion. - said Whitey. But he didn't seem to set much store by it. David reached out and softly stroked one of the black, iridescent wings. Sybil snorted a bit, but she wern't too scared. Horse life was good on the Polvarosa. 


Whitey picked hisself up and went over to look at some tack. He always doin' somethin'. David said - But I will ride her, someday................ Yeah, someday. - said Whitey. But you can't take her up till you growed, boy. Law don't let no kids go flyin'. You gotta be eight years old. And I don't have to tell you I  talkin' 'bout Mars years........... I know - sighed the little one............... After that, nobody said nothin'. Just kept on doin' whatever they was doin'. And the settin' sun, shining in through them big, old stable doors, washed everything in a deep, warm golden light.


Whitey felt bad 'bout tellin' all that crap to the book-writin' guy. But life on Mars costs money. And he sure as hell wern't no Texaco, even though he did like the kid a lot.


So they just stayed like that till the skinny Tuva-Tuva girl come out to fetch the little one back inside. I think they call her 'Tillie' or somethin'. Davey did want to go into town with his ma and pa, but they hardly ever take him. But maybe after supper the Old Man will drive him down to the Walgreen for like a toy, or somethin'. They got two chupi-proof 'tanks.' Won't be no big thing.


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