Son of the Black Stallion

by Walter Farley

  Alec looked at Henry, studying his wrinkled face with keen eyes. “But your contract, Henry,” he said, “… it’s not up for two months.”

  “I can talk Boldt into lettin’ me go,” Henry replied. “I’ve got ways.” Then, grinning, he explained, “Just let me mention that I saw Volence’s youngsters when I was east and they looked mighty good to me … say, even better than his gray colt … that’s all I have to do. He’ll sack me for that, Alec. I know him and his kind. Boldt can act like a jealous kid when it comes to his horses.”

  Alec said thoughtfully, “You’ll lose money on the deal, Henry. Two months’ salary, maybe.”

  “Mebbe an’ mebbe not,” Henry replied. “If I do, it’s worth it.”

  “You’re a good friend, Henry.”

  “Naw,” Henry scoffed. “There isn’t a trainer in the country who wouldn’t give his right arm to get a crack at the son of the Black. An’ don’t you forget it, Alec.”

  It wasn’t until they neared Flushing that Henry spoke again. “Besides,” he said, “another reason for my bein’ around is that you’re due to go back to that upstate college mighty soon, ain’tcha? Tomorrow is the first of September … that means I oughta be back just before you leave,” he concluded. When Alec didn’t reply, he turned and noticed the way Alec avoided his eyes. “What were you thinkin’ of doin’, Alec, if I couldn’t have gotten back here for another two months? Were you thinkin’ of lettin’ Tony keep an eye on the colt, or somethin’ like that?”

  Alec said quietly, “I was thinking of quitting school, Henry.”

  It was several minutes before Henry said anything. “Have you mentioned this to your father?”

  “No …”

  “But now that I’m goin’ to be around, you won’t have to quit,” Henry said.

  “I still want to be around, too, Henry.”

  “But you’ll be back during Christmas vacation an’ then there’ll be all of next summer.” Henry’s gaze found Alec’s. “Besides,” he added lightly, “there’s not going to be much to do. Just keepin’ watch on him, that’s all. And Alec”—he paused—“I know how your folks feel about your goin’ to school.”

  “I know, Henry,” Alec replied, almost curtly. “I know, but this is important.”

  “School’s important, too,” Henry said slowly. “You once’t told me you wanted to know all there was to know about horses … what went on inside ’em as well as outside. An’ in your letters to me while you were at school y’said the subjects you were takin’ were just what you wanted, like animal anatomy and those other things you mentioned.”

  “You never had them,” Alec said quietly.

  “Sure, and mebbe I’d be a better trainer if I’d had,” Henry insisted. Shrugging his shoulders, he added, “It’s your life, Alec. Play it the way you want to. I’m jest sayin’ that it’s goin’ to take months and months for the colt to grow up an’ our real trainin’ won’t begin until then.”

  Alec was silent as the van reached Flushing. There was a lot to what Henry said, he knew. But he had waited a long time for the arrival of his colt, and now that Satan was here he wanted to be with him every day. He wanted to feed him, take care of him, watch him playing in the field, just as he’d done with the Black. And then when the time came, he’d ride him around the field until Henry said the colt was ready to be taken to the track for workouts. It would probably be Belmont, since that track was the nearest to Flushing. And they’d have night workouts, too, so no one would get an inkling of Satan’s speed.

  Henry said, “You’ll get the registration blanks from the Jockey Club?”

  Nodding, Alec answered, “Tomorrow, Henry.”

  “Y’know where it is?”

  “Two-fifty Park Avenue.”

  “Yeah, that’s it.” Then, thoughtfully, “All you’ll need will be the certificate of identification for the veterinary to fill out after he’s examined the colt. Then y’send that back together with the colt’s pedigree which Abu sent you in his letter. There’s a five-dollar fee, too.”

  “Yes, I know, Henry. I’ve already checked up on it.”

  “How about the vet?”

  “There’s Hancock in Flushing,” Alec replied. “He’s a friend of ours and won’t charge me much.”

  “It’s going to cost money, Alec, training and racing Satan.”

  “I’ve saved for it. I’ll get more,” Alec said.

  “And I’ve got some.”

  Alec turned to Henry. “You needn’t …”

  “I know I needn’t,” Henry grinned, “but we’re partners, ain’t we?”

  Smiling, Alec said, “Yes, partners.” He sat back in his seat, relaxed and content. There were problems ahead, of course, but they weren’t insurmountable, and somehow he and Henry would work them out together. “I’ll get an application for an owner’s license, too, Henry,” he said. “Just think … my horse, my colors, and me up there on his back, Henry!” Excitedly, Alec half-turned in his seat; then, as he saw Henry’s face, he stopped short.

  “Your horse,” the old man was muttering in a voice so low Alec could barely make out his words, “… and you riding him.” Turning to Alec, he said, “I’m a fool. A blasted old fool. You can’t do it, Alec … it’s no go.”

  “Can’t do what, Henry? What can’t I do?”

  The old man said sorrowfully, “I should have thought of it. Shoulda thought of it before this.” He paused, then said slowly, “Y’can’t own and ride Satan both. It’s in the rules … a jockey can’t own a race horse.”

  “You mean … You’re sure, Henry? It’s in the rules of racing?” Alec’s voice was emotionless, dead.

  “Yes, Alec, I’m certain.” And then as the moments swept by without Alec’s saying a word, Henry asked, “You want to ride, don’tcha?” Henry knew what Alec’s answer would be even before the boy nodded. “Okay, then, it ain’t so bad, Alec, really. There’s your dad … have him register the horse in his name. There’s nothin’ in the rules which says a jock can’t ride his father’s horse. Then it’ll still be your name on the owner’s sheet, and your colors, too. I’m sure your father will understand.”

  Alec smiled grimly. “My dad … a race horse owner? Do you think he’d have any part of the colt after today? Are you serious, Henry?”

  “Sure, I’m serious. Your father oughta know that what happened today was partly Sebastian’s fault. He oughta know that.”

  “But, Henry, Dad doesn’t even like horses. He wouldn’t have any part of it, I know.”

  “I’m not tellin’ you you don’t know your own father,” Henry said, “but I’ve seen his eyes light up at times when he used to watch the Black. An’ I saw it again today with the colt. Just once’t and only for a second,” he admitted, “but that’s all that was necessary. He’s not against horses, Alec. Don’t you think that.”

  “But if he won’t do it, Henry,” Alec’s words came slowly, “will you? Can a trainer own a race horse?”

  “Yes,” Henry replied quietly, “a trainer can own a race horse, Alec. And I’ll do it, if your dad won’t. I guess there isn’t anything I’d like more in the world than to see the son of the Black runnin’ in my name. But that’s not the way it should be. He’s your horse, Alec, and your name belongs on him … with you up on his back, riding in your silks. The two of you are goin’ places. I’ve had my day, Alec, and now I just wanta sit back an’ watch. Another reason I shouldn’t own the colt,” he added, his brow furrowing, “is that the names of all new horses and owners registered with the Jockey Club are published in the Racing Calendar … that’s the official racing magazine. Boldt reads it religiously. He’d see my name and might get to thinkin’ I had something up my sleeve. But I don’t think the name William Ramsay would register with him. It’s better that you speak to your father, Alec.”

  “Okay, Henry.…”

  It was almost dark when the van turned down their block, and behind him Alec heard the colt’s hoofs impatiently strike the wooden floor. There was no altern
ative now, he thought, but to tell his father of the plans to race Satan. He couldn’t put it off for months as he’d intended to do. And now his father’s reaction would be all the more important, because he was to play a part in the racing of the colt. Alec felt the tight, hard ball in his stomach again. Would his father understand how much this meant to him? Would he agree to race Satan in his name … their name? Was Henry right? … Did his father really have a feeling for horses? A feeling that might make him understand? Then Alec remembered his dad’s words as they were driving to the pier: “You’ve had enough excitement to last a lifetime … take it easy … go for nice slow rides through the park … just make a pal of him.” Alec wondered, and swallowed hard. Then there was school. He had to tell his father that he didn’t want to go back. And there was Sebastian, too. If the dog was critically hurt, he’d never forgive himself for letting the colt get away, even if it had been partly Sebastian’s fault. “It’s the beginning, all right,” he muttered to himself. “In fact, it’s begun.…”

  “What’s that, Alec?” Henry asked.

  “Nothing, Henry.”

  They passed the brown house, and Alec saw a light in the living room. Maybe his father was already there, or maybe it was just his mother, awaiting their return.

  The van pulled up in front of the iron gate and stopped while Henry and Alec got out to open it. Then the truck rolled through slowly, and they walked behind it, up the graveled driveway toward the barn. “Napoleon still here?” Henry asked. And after Alec nodded, the old man said, “Good. He’ll help quiet down the colt, just like he did the Black.” Henry’s gaze shifted to the large house on the corner, a few hundred yards from the barn. “You think the missis will be glad to see me, Alec?” he asked, and there was a skeptical look on his wrinkled face.

  Alec smiled. “Sure, Henry. You’re her husband, aren’t you?”

  “Makes no difference after you’ve been married as long as we have, m’boy,” Henry replied seriously. “Besides, she never wanted me to get mixed up in big-time trainin’ again … and I went and done it, over her head.”

  “Then tell her you’re through with it, Henry,” Alec suggested. “Tell her you’re quitting Boldt and coming back.”

  “Good idea, Alec,” Henry said, nodding his head. “I’ll tell her first thing.”

  The van backed up to the barn, and the driver sat behind the wheel, waiting for Alec and Henry to rid him of his cargo. They opened the back, put the ramp down and walked inside.

  The black colt stood there in the darkness of the van, his nostrils tingling with a scent that set his blood on fire. And the fire swept through him until his black body was quivering with eagerness and his eyes glowed with hate. His ears lay back, flat against his small head, which moved from side to side defiantly. He pulled at the rope which held him tight, and as the scent grew stronger in his nostrils and the sound of footsteps reached him, he snorted and kicked out his hind legs.

  “Careful, Alec,” Henry cautioned as the boy moved ahead of him. “He could do some damage if he caught you in the head.”

  The colt couldn’t turn, couldn’t see behind him. Alec moved quietly to one side of the van; then, with quickness and agility, he ran forward, closing in upon the fierce head. “No you don’t, Satan,” he said, as the colt bared his teeth and attempted to bite him. Snorting, the colt tried to pull away from this person who held his head. He heaved upward, frantic for his freedom. But the pressure on his head was still there when he came down.

  “Got him, Alec?” It was Henry.

  “He’s quieting down. Coming out in a minute.” Alec untied the lead rope and slowly turned the colt around in the van until he faced the door. Then, still holding him close, Alec led the colt forward, down the ramp, and stopped in front of the barn door. Henry closed the van, signaled to the driver, and the truck left, rolling slowly down the driveway and through the gate.

  “I’ll see if everything is okay inside,” Henry said.

  “I got the stall ready this morning,” Alec told him. “We’ll put Satan in the same one the Black used, right next to Napoleon.” As Henry disappeared inside the barn, Alec pressed his head close to the colt’s. “Your pop used it,” he said softly, “… and now it’s yours.”

  Henry reappeared at the door. “Okay,” he said. “Bring him in.”

  Napoleon pitched his gray head over the stall door as Alec led Satan into the barn. Pricking his long ears forward, Napoleon neighed and watched the black colt eagerly.

  Satan stopped in his tracks, refusing to go forward. Tossing his head, he whistled and bared his teeth. As he stood there, tense and rigid, his blazing eyes were fixed upon old Napoleon.

  “Guess you might be wrong, Henry,” Alec said. “He doesn’t seem to be taking to Nap.”

  “He doesn’t seem to be takin’ to anybody,” Henry growled; then he muttered half to himself, “Those strange, creepy eyes …”

  Alec tried talking to the colt, but Satan moved restlessly, his eyes still on Napoleon. Suddenly the colt wheeled, staggered as Alec’s weight threw his light body off balance, and, recovering, screamed again.

  Napoleon’s eyes were upon him all the time, soft and wondering.

  At last the colt was still. Alec tried to move him forward, but Satan kept his legs rigid. Stroking him, Alec turned to Henry and started to say something. Then, quickly, the colt leapt forward, screaming, carrying Alec with him.

  Henry moved fast as Satan, his teeth bared, rushed toward Napoleon. Coming between them, the old man’s hand descended heavily upon Satan’s muzzle. The blow stunned the colt, and as he drew back upon his haunches, Henry closed in upon his head.

  When it was over, and Alec and Henry both had hold of the quivering colt, the old man said angrily, “It’s goin’ to be like raisin’ the devil himself. Let’s get him down to the end stall, Alec, away from Napoleon.”

  “Maybe he’ll get used to Nap,” Alec said hopefully. “Then it’ll be like it was.”

  “Mebbe,” Henry muttered. “Mebbe.”

  They didn’t have any trouble moving the colt down the barn, and Alec held him while Henry went into the end stall. Finally he came out and said, “Ready now, Alec. Gave him some hay, too. Mebbe that’ll help some.”

  Alec led Satan into the stall and then stood beside him, his cheek pressed hard against the colt’s head. “It’s all strange to you, boy.… I know it is. You can’t help acting the way you do, leaving all you’ve ever known so far behind you. But it’ll be different in a short while, honestly it will. You’ll like it here, Satan.… Your father did, you know. And you’ll get to like Napoleon, too, and he’ll understand why you were excited tonight. We all love you, Satan … you’re ours … you’re what we’ve been waiting for.”

  “Comin’, Alec?” Henry asked.

  Alec’s hand trailed along the colt’s side as he left the stall.

  And as they left the barn, they could hear Satan moving restlessly within, his hoofs occasionally striking the sides of his stall.

  They walked in silence until they reached the gate, then Alec said, “I won’t see you tomorrow, then.”

  “It’s a five o’clock flight. You’ll be sleepin’.” Henry paused, then added, “I’ll try to get back inside of ten days, Alec. Don’t suspect I’ll have any trouble with Boldt … not if I handle him right.”

  “Hope not, Henry.”

  “You’ll speak to your father?”

  “Tonight or tomorrow. Maybe tomorrow would be better.”

  Henry placed his hand on Alec’s arm. “Use your own judgment, Alec. It’s good, an’ you’re carrying the ball now.”

  “Yes,” Alec said thoughtfully, his gaze on the house across the street, “it’s my ball, all right.”

  Henry’s fingers pressed into Alec’s shoulder, and he mumbled something about seeing the missis; then he shuffled up the street toward the big house on the corner. Alec watched him for a moment, and then started across the street.

  BILL OF SALE

  5
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  Alec watched as his mother rose from her chair and began cleaning off the kitchen table. She had reached the head of the table and her hand was on his dad’s empty plate when, hesitating, she turned to Alec. “I believe I’ll leave his setting, and keep the food warm,” she said. “He may not have eaten.”

  Alec smiled, trying to relieve the deep concern he saw in his mother’s eyes. “He’ll be along any minute now, Mom,” he said, getting to his feet. And as he helped her carry the dishes to the sink, he added, “He might have had trouble finding a veterinary in New York.”

  His mother washed the dishes in silence while Alec stood beside her drying them. “Do you think Sebastian might have been seriously hurt?” she finally asked.

  “I don’t think so, Mom. Henry said the colt’s hoof just nicked him.”

  “You should have kept the colt away from him,” his mother said a little sternly as she dried her hands.

  “Sebastian …” Then Alec stopped. His mother was worried enough now without his going into all the details of the accident. “Yes, Mom,” he said quietly. “I know I should have.”

  The spring lock on the screen door on the porch clicked and then clicked again as the door shut. In another moment Mr. Ramsay was striding into the kitchen, his face white and tired. “Sorry I’m late, Belle,” he said, turning to his wife, “but it couldn’t be helped.” Then his gaze was upon Alec, and the boy felt uneasy until the sternness left his father’s eyes. “Seb will be all right in a couple of days, Alec,” he said slowly. “Doctor Hancock thinks he was just stunned by the blow, but he’s going to keep him around awhile to make sure.”

  “Sit down, William, while the food is still warm,” Alec heard his mother say. “You must be hungry.”

  Everything was all right now, Alec thought. Sebastian wasn’t hurt; his father was eating hungrily; and his mother was moving busily about the kitchen once more. She poured the coffee into her husband’s cup and said, “We thought you might have tried to find a veterinary in New York.” The tenseness was gone from her voice.