A tale of two Horses.

Part 2.

By Drafty the Suffolk Punch and Jackson Taylor (Wolfie Steel)

How soon is now?

The alarm goes off, but I'm awake anyway, I'm usually up with the birdsong these days, I can hear it now drifting in through the open window, along with a welcome breeze, cool across my bare fur. my sheets are in a ruck again half hanging off the bed and I'm itchy, damp and clammy, it's been another hot night in an equally hot month, the hottest June on record Yesterday was a scorching 38c and today's shaping up to me much the same.

I roll over to my back enjoying the freedom sleeping alone gives me, I squint, better shake a leg and get up, work calls.

I look at the card over on the dresser, I know what's written inside "Thanks lads and I will, I promise" I say out loud, thoughts of home flooding my mind, push them aside that's right. How am I feeling today, I'm feeling good actually, despite the lack of sleep, my arms hurt but erecting stock fencing in concrete like ground does that to you and it was never going to be nice job when all you have left to do it with is a post rammer. But it's work nonetheless and I need to look after this one, its important, kind of a last chance saloon for me.

Breakfast is a large bowl of oats, warm and wet, washed down with a mug full of coffee, courtesy of my employer's wife, a large bovine with a generous heart and a wandering eye and even more wandering hands, always lingering too long, turning a friendly gesture into something else completely. Got to keep her at arm's length though, I really need to not mess this one up.

I load up the old land rover and trailer with as many round posts and galvanised wire as it can take along with the tools I need for the job, and a couple of big bottles of water for me.

Right then back to the field, this morning I want to get 20 posts in before the day really warms up. I start by taking an armful of round wooden fence posts dropping them at regular intervals along the fields' perimeter roughly in the places I want to hammer them into along the perimeter of an old stone cottage.

Returning to the trailer I pick up my nemesis, a large red steel cylinder with two handles running its length and weighing about 15 kilos, it's a bastard and just waiting to take some of my teeth if I let it. I take my first stake holding it with one hand I slip the red metal rammer over it, lining it up with the church tower in the distance closing an eye to get the line I lift the cylinder and begin hammering on the post, a dull tone ringing out from the tube with every smack.

I pause, straightening the post off the nearest straight landmark again, then brace myself again, knees bent, hooves parted, back straight trying to share the work over as much of my body as possible, it's the only way I can make this bearable all day while retaining the ability to do it all over again tomorrow.

"Thunk, thunk, thunk,"

After post ten I begin to feel a familiar prickly itch in my fur, after fifteen I'm huffing, nostrils flaring beads of sweat running down my body soaking it, gravity pulling the wetness downward and by twenty, (the target I've set for myself) I'm worn out, all the old aches from yesterday begin reasserting themselves with a vengeance.

I look around me scanning the horiz o n for watching eyes whilst taking a large bottle of water from the open trailer and drink from it deeply, I slide to the ground, resting my back against my last post running a hand through my wet matted forelock flicking the flaxen hair back over my mane sighing deeply what a lovely day, not a single cloud in sight and the smell of hot damp grass hanging heavily in the air teasing my nostrils I wish I had my radio though, but I suppose I can live without it for a day, I've always got a tune in my head, life is so much better when it's set to music!

I sit still for a few minutes listening to the sounds of the countryside, birds tweeting overhead, mark flailing a hedge in the next field, a plane overhead, crossing a perfectly blue sky taking furs to lands far away.

lands far away... and I'm stuck here in this prison, a beautiful prison I grant you but a prison nevertheless. Mark and Sally are not just my hosts and employers they're my jailers too, told to keep an eye on me, you see I'm not from around here, oh no despite my countryside appearance I'm a city horse, hard to believe I know but I really am a London horse, or as near as good as I suppose, It's vastly overrated by the way, in case you were wondering but its home I suppose, or this is, I don't really know anymore.

I mean I want this to be my home, my future, my life and if I work hard enough at it then maybe I'll be able to make that happen, and start to make everything right for those important to me, you know leave the bad behind and bring the good with me, save up money for a house, get what's left of my family out of that terrible place and give them security somewhere, if not here than anywhere away from that place!

I'm my own horse, and it's down to me, I can do this!

Today's a good day, I'm positive, I try to make every day a good one even if I have to force it out of my big boxy muzzle. Problems? Hah! I have none of those!

But I do.

I get to my hooves I set out another row of posts and proceed to knock those in as well, only stopping when I've done enough to attach a full roll of stock wire. It's vile stuff, thirty metres of galvanised mesh squares that needs tensioning and stapling to the uprights to make a paddock, Mark's buying another 60 head of cattle, gorgeous red polls like the others here, happily grazing on the other side of the hill and this is yet another field to be turned into pasture for them, the big drooling terrors!

Christ it's getting hot, time to take the t-shirt off? Nah not yet, it feels so much better if you wait till it's really hot, and it's wringing wet with heavy horse perspiration, looking down at myself I only a little around my neck, I'll leave it till later. It's a pity there's no mares to tease, there's a small cottage behind the corner where I'm going next but I've never seen anyone come or go from there.

I arrive at a corner, now this means three posts instead of one. One to turn the corner with and two to support it, this takes a little longer but it's worth doing right, stock fencing tends to fail on the corners even with a straining post in place and I don't need escaped cattle running up and down the country lanes used against me, I've had enough of that in my life already.

I start setting the master post, it has to be dug in because it's too big to ram in by hand, next come channels for the posts in at right angles to the master post, then take the supporting posts chamfering the ends down to a point with a chainsaw, boring out two grooves in the larger post to receive the supports, before driving a discrete nail through the posts to join them to the main one, just to hold it still while I backfill.

This was a massive learning curb when I first started but we did it together mark and I, the bull's a good teacher and he reckons I'm not a bad student, so we did the other field for a week, mark making me do something extra each time, building up my skill until I could do it all and now I'm happy to do it by myself, it shows that he trusts me which is a good sign.

Christ it's warm, now it's definitely time to lose the top!

Taking the hem of the t-shirt with white fingers, I lift it over my head, turning it inside out, shaking my head as the neck of the garment sends my flaxen mane flying, I smile to myself, it shouldn't make me smile I'm not at all vein, but all things told I'm pretty happy with my body, hard graft helping to define a decent amount of muscle that had never been properly used until coming here.

I throw it into the trailer along with my other stuff ensuring it always comes with me, nothing worse than going back to a field to pick up your clothes, is there?

I take another long drink. That feels nice going down my neck, it'll feel nicer over my body, I tilt my head up taking another glug before letting go with my lips, letting a small torrent of cool water flow over my muzzle, down my neck and over my chest.

I don't know if I feel eyes on me or I catch a glint of a reflection off of something but I look around focusing on the cottage in the corner, looking as unused as always, it's strange, I think to myself, someone must live there because it's neat and tidy with hedges cut and a nicely kept lawn but I've never seen a soul come or go.

There it is again, a movement, reflected from within the room, a black shape. "I'll keep an eye on that, I'm not sure I like being watched" I think to myself, turning back to admire my handiwork.

Some folks like to put all the posts in and wire afterwards, I'm wiring as I go, as soon as I do enough to use a roll of wire I stop and attach the square mesh, it helps break this job up a little bit.

I feel eyes on me again, I spin round, and see it an equine head in the top window of the cottage, black and staring.

"Gotcha" I smile inwardly

The head looks like it belongs to a mare, something in the look telling me, something else told me she'd been staring for some time especially, with the speed the head removed itself from the window.

"Definitely gotcha now" but what do I do, "keep an eye on the window of course silly, this could be fun"

I finish the corner off, attach the wire up to my completed posts leaving the roll standing by the last one allowing me to continue. Keeping an occasional eye on the dark little house, I keep an eye on it all day, but I don't see the black head again, in fact I see nothing, but at least I get up to the next corner.

Oh what I wouldn't give for a tractor mounted post rammer!

I'm about to leave off for the day but before it do I allow myself one last look across my handicraft, while I'm busy mentally patting myself on the neck for a good days graft I suddenly get that feeling again, that uneasy feeling I'm being watched I look over my shoulder sure enough a black head at the window again I know it's a horse now, I can see ears moving, I turn, I was about to hop into the battered old 4x4 and head back to the house but there's suddenly one thing I need to do now, put my top back on, I walk purposefully over to the trailer making sure the mare's still at the window without looking directly and pick up the grey garment, giving it a deliberate sniff before pulling it over my head, stretching the fabric over my ribcage, and stomach, I give my head a shake, sending my flaxen mane flying before waking purposefully back to the battered old 4x4 getting in and driving away.

So it's Friday night, I'm fed and watered and so far unmolested by either of my big bovine hosts, I think I'll keep it that way, ok sure I could sit and let them fill me up with wine and stories about the farm and of life out here like the last two weekends but I fancy a change.

So what am I going to do?

I'm going to do what any other working horse does on a Friday night, go and spend my wages in the local pub.

The evenings just as warm as the day was, sultry and humid, I feel a breeze drift up the lane to meet me as I clop down the moss covered tarmac, the orange haze of the setting sun just peeking through the branches above the grassy banks either side of me. I know I'm getting close when the old stone cottage comes into view, I chance a look as I round the corner, spying a light on in the top room I guess it must be a bedroom, I look to see if I can catch a glimpse of the black horse I clocked watching me earlier but I see nothing, just the yellow of the ceiling light.

I move on, quickening my step, who knows it could have been a geeza, I shudder, and that would never do!

I nicker in excitement as I round the next corner to see cars in the car park outside the pub, that means people, people in this loneliest of all lonely old place, people to talk to, to listen to, to share a joke and an anecdote with, I'll even listen to someone's life story if I have to, just people that aren't Mark and Sally, bless them.

I quicken my step, haunch my shoulders foreword and slip my hands into my jeans pockets, I look ok, I smell ok, I've had a shower, did I remember to untie my tail from work, a quick swish and an extra look over my shoulder told me that I had and I before I know it I've arrived at the door, no going back now, so with head high and ears pointing foreword I stride into the little pub and instantly *Thud* pain explodes in front of my eyes and I lose my footing, falling ungracefully to the floor my hand the only thing keeping me from completely collapsing.

"And another horse bites the dust!" a rorcauss voice bellows out mirthily, I look in the direction of the laughter but my vision's still blurry, I shake my head to clear it only to feel the pain double.

"You want to watch that beam there mate" the preceding seven words of that sentence insuring the owner of the voice and I would always be anything but!

I jump, feeling a hand on my shoulder, trying to shake it off preparing for a fight, feeling like I was about to get seriously fucked up.

"All right Stallion, calm down, I come in peace" I hear a female voice at my side, I can smell her now, another Kind of equine but at the same time not, "And don't mind those two, Eddie and John are being arses as usual and that old beam seems to claim a horse every other week, and they laugh every other week, let's get you to the bar where I can start filling you with liquid painkiller hey?, come on"

Her sweet smile going a long way to melt the pain so with pride more than a little dented I follow the pretty smelling mare to the bar taking the offered seat drinking without question the pint placed under my muzzle, it's a pretty generic larger but it's cold and wet and goes down quickly enough.

I survey my surroundings, a nice old English pub, with low oak beams stained black, uneven walls adorned with various pictures of horses working the land, and to complete the feel old pieces of tack and working harness adorned every wall and fixture, the Oak of the mantelpiece the fireplace barely visible behind a shiny wall of horse brasses. "Hands up for 19thcentury equine bling" I think to myself, but on the plus side it's a world away from the trendy agro-bars in London, with umpteen TV's blaring out various shit, and the ever-present threat of a pool cue in your face. I'll take this thanks

As it happens there doesn't seem to be a TV in here at all, just music gently pumping out from speaker's unseen, I love it!

I take the time now to look at the other furs here, I'm the only one seated at the bar but there's a smattering of drinkers dotted around the cosy old pub. There's a bulky mule in john deer overalls keeping a fox in fendt Coveralls Company, a rabbit and Jack Russell chatting away animatedly at a table toward the middle of the room and tucked away in the corner is a rather timed looking tabby cat nursing a glass of something very strong looking, poor guy. If no one interesting comes in maybe I'll go over and keep him company, he looks like he needs bringing out of himself, I mean what's the worst that could happen, he could tell me to fuck off I suppose but I've had an interesting upbringing so I can shrug that off easily enough.

The Mare serving seems happy enough to talk though, at length about anything and everything which is very disarming. She picks a subject talks about it for a while before asking me what I think about it, great for a horse like me who never likes to talk about himself very much. At the same time I feel her subtly pump me for information, call me wary but I know she's doing it, I have an ear for it but I play along letting it go, I'm here now not there I tell myself besides she's good company and I like her smell, She just might be coming into season as it happens she seems plenty flirty, I play along with that too, but I have the sense to know that a friendly barkeep is not leading you into bed, she's more likely to be leading the contents of your wallet into the cash register.

"I can't wait to go back to Durham, it's so different up there, busy more than anything else, it's too quiet out here for me, too far into the sticks" She giggles. I think about that for a moment weighing up the benefits of the city compared to countryside in my mind, quickly deciding that the countryside wins hands down, for the moment at least.

Just then I notice a dark horse through the window, I perk thinking it might be the mare from earlier, but the clothes and sway of the black horses hips quickly tell me otherwise, I immediately loose interest turning back to the more stimulating equine before me.

"So are you a student?" I ask the mare, she silences me with a hand pointing to the door, "just watch"

He's a horse so what? I think to myself but not wanting to be rude I turn myself on the stool, humouring the mare, noticing that the two farming furs have seen him too and are also looking on at the door with silent anticipation, I can only imagine that the guy must be something special if everyone's looking. I lose sight of him through the window which must mean he's going to come through the doorway any moment now, there he is, down the step he comes, paying attention to his footing and...

"Thump"

The stallion walks straight through the door and into the oak beam that I had barely an hour previously. He falls to the floor too putting out a hand to catch himself.

"Dun, dun, dun, another one bites the dust!"

"And another one down, and another one down, another one bites the dust"

They both guffaw like it's going out of fashion.

It's the gobby mule in the john deer overalls again, fair play to the bloke though he does have the bulk to back it up, well the gut anyway maybe not the muscle I snicker to myself.

But immediately stop when I catch the look the stallion gives the brown mule.

Not just an if looks could kill glance. No this is something altogether different I know that look, the flash of his eyes, the direction of his ears that's a fighting look it's a look I'm very familiar with and it's a look that tells me that this bloke has something else about him.

My fingers dig into the seat, like they always do when I see this stare go serious, Never ever eyeball another fur unless you REALY can take it further!

The horse doesn't look like a fighter but as I well know looks can be deceiving, and this is becoming seriously tense now, I can feel the bolts on the underside of the stool I'm squeezing so hard, it's ingrained for me, I know fight or flight is ingrained into all of us horses especially but with me it's deeper, a product of... history if you like, fight or loose, stand or fall, swing or run, and if you run then don't bother coming back. I ran or more accurately "was pushed" and I will never go back, never ever ever, this is my home now, which is why pleasing Sally and Mark has become so very important to me.

I hear the grinding of a chair and watch as the mule tenses up preparing to get up, his fluted ear tips facing forward locked intently on the newcomers own black ones.

"John, John stop it!"

The mare behind me barks out a warning "sit back down and apologise to our friend here"

An indignant snort.

"John stop, you're in the wrong, taking the mick yet again, now tell him you're sorry"

He gets up, and proceeds to the toilet at the far end of the room eyeballing the newcomer all the way.

"Hey" the mare behind the bar waves to the stallion, getting his attention and beckoning him over, distracting his attention from the toilet door.

The Dark horse makes his way over to the bar and to me, I take the time to look at him properly giving him a casual smile, warm enough to be sympathetic and welcoming, but not enough to give him the wrong impression. Heh. He's tall, solid black in colour, fairly usual getup for a drink on a Friday night I suppose, he must be meeting up with someone, I give him a very noncommittal nod when his gaze meets mine and I get a nervous smile in return, I recognise that face from somewhere, now where would that be.

"I'm so sorry about that what can I get you?"

"Do you have Magners cider?" the stallion asks

"Yes we do but only in the next bar, give me a minute and I'll be back with your drink"

I watched the cute mare disappear through a dividing door, that left me and the stallion, oh well I can do this.

He's looking at the drinks along the back wall of the bar, I follow his gaze. "Bloody hot weather" I say trying to break the ice

"Tell me about it bud, thought I was going to melt today it was that warm"

"Come here often?" I follow up dumbly

"Apparently not, I have been here before but I totally forgot about the beam"

I grin broadly at him then pointing at my head

"The ceiling bit you too huh?"

"Not an hour before you"

He points a white thumb behind him

"Did they?"

"Yes they did" I cut him off

"Doesn't matter though they're a pair of short arses, wouldn't know what an oak beam was even if it"

"Hits them in the head" he finishes

"Spot on"

Ok it's a piss poor joke but we laugh nevertheless.

The mare returns with an appealing looking glass full of amber liquid, handing it to the stallion as he reaches in his jacket.

"NO no, don't worry about it love, on the house"

"Well thank you very much dear"

"Just watch for the beam next time, you don't get one free every time you hit your head"

With that the black horse makes his way over to a table near the door, I thought for a moment he'd keep the lonely looking tabby company but instead he produces a phone and begins flicking through it, he must be meeting someone here, a horse like that doesn't just sit alone in a pub. But having said that just look at billy no-mates over here. Well one new mate at least, and she'll continue to be my friend as long as I keep buying drinks.

"So farm boy, are you only here for the summer or planning to stick around for a little while longer?" the dapple mare rests her elbows on the bar looking at me expectantly.

My answer to that one takes some time and thought, I tell her as much as I feel comfortable pausing every now and then to break the story, each time I almost catch the stallion looking at me. The last time he turned it around, catching me looking at him, damn this is difficult now, maybe I should go over and continue our conversation but at the same time it'll be awkward when his mare or partner does eventually arrive besides that I can't get away from this mare.

The evening passes and the mysterious stallion comes and gets another Magners, we don't speak this time, the stallion eyeing the back shelf silently waiting for his drink before sitting back down in silence. I try to place that face in my mind again I know I've seen it somewhere before but I know I've never heard that voice before.

Just go over and talk to him you silly sod, I tell myself.

My ears perk just then, that's a familiar sound, a deep broken tremolo then the screech of a slide on guitar strings, producing a sound like a train screaming down a track toward you. I'm counting the beat in now, I haven't heard this song in ages, what an oldie! It's the sort of song you forget to remember, a strange melody but oddly appropriate for here.

_ I am the Son and the Heir _

_ of a shyness that is criminally vulgar _

_ I am Son and Heir _

_ of nothing in particular _

Thinking about it it's exactly the sort of music I'd expect to find in a pub like this! Quirky and different, I bet we'll find some jam and possibly a little bit of clash in the mix too.

_ You shut your mouth _

_ how can you say I go about things the wrong way _

_ I am human and I need to be loved _

_ just like anybody else does _

I watch the mare mouth the words to herself nodding in time while stacking glasses in front of me "what's this one called?" I ask her.

"How soon is now, it's by the smiths, do you like it?"

"Yeah I do, I'm not really a smiths fan but everybody knows this one"

"Oh I'm not either, but I do like Morrissey" she grins "he's hot" she mouths turning around, swishing her tail, at me.

I shake my head frowning, there are so many things wrong with that thought that I won't even begin to explain, I turn instead to look around the room again, sneaking another look at the stallion in the corner, he looks away again. Which means he's been looking again and once again I shrug it off, I'm another horse and on a base level we're interesting to one another, nothing more than that!

_ You shut your mouth _

_ how can you say I go about things the wrong way _

_ I am human and I need to be loved _

_ just like anybody else does _

I do want to go over and talk to him, he's starting to look decidedly lonely now, perhaps a game of pool, everyone knows how to play pool and at least here there'll be a reasonable chance that the cue's shaft doesn't abruptly end in splinters.

"So is it just you out here? or is there someone else..." The black mare asks in a sultry tone looking at me with one eye wearing a small smile on her muzzle, bringing my attention away from the stranger and firmly back to her.

"Um"

I hear a clop behind me, it's the horse, he stands, quickly making his way to the door just as he is about to pass through he looks back at me, a long reproachful look, a black eyelid closes hiding his eye for a moment, when it opens again I see a glint, another blink and the glint becomes a tear rolling down the side of his muzzle, he wrinkles his muzzle, breath catching in a small tremor, then he's through the door and disappears into the night.

_ There's a club if you'd like to go _

_ you could meet somebody who really loves you _

_ so you go and you stand on your own _

_ and you leave on your own _

_ and you go home and you cry and you want to die _