Kirby's Wright's Weblog

Horses (Excerpt)

My grandmother's mares roamed the big pasture bordering Moloka'i's public road. But she kept Fizz, her oldest mare, in the lot next to her house. Fizz was a gray horse with a nervous disposition. Because my father felt Fizz was too tempermental to ride, he wanted to breed her. He liked it when people and animals were productive. The day the stallion arrived, I stood behind the fence and watched a blue trailer back up. It was hot and humid and the blood flies were swarming.

My father swung open the gate to the lot. He wore a white undershirt, khaki shorts, and a cowboy hat too big for his head. He wanted to supervise while my mother was back home in Honolulu. She rarely accompanied him to Moloka'i because she said he spent more time working the ranch than taking her to hotels and restaurants. She was a city girl from Boston who hated wide open spaces. The trailer entered the lot and I could see the stallion's black nostrils flaring against the breathing hole.

"Let 'im go, Mendoza!" my father said.

Mendoza, a stocky Portuguese man, pulled down a ramp and unhitched the trailer door. A gold stallion charged out. It was a giant of a horse, with a huge head and muscular flanks. The stallion kicked at the ground with one of his front hooves.

My father looked at his watch. "Give 'em 'til dusk."

Mendoza stuck his hands in his pockets and spat. "Ten dolla mo'."

"Paid you plenny already."

Mendoza climbed back in his truck. "Back in a coupla hours."

The trailer moved out.

My father secured the gate and joined me behind the fence. He had thin lips, brown eyes, and dark hair. His cheeks were covered with stubble because he never shaved on Moloka'i. He wore horn-rimmed glasses like battle gear and had trouble smiling. He had joined the Army the day after the Japanese bombed Pearl Harbor and got stabbed in combat on Tarawa Atoll. He'd said the only good thing to come out of the war was going to Harvard on the GI Bill.

Posted by Ryan at December 30, 2002 10:28 AM