All Bets Are Off

“Who you got?”

“Jay.”

“Twenty on Jay?”

“Yeah lock it in Fonzy.”

Fonzy and Tyler recline on a straw mound, stretched out doing what they do best; chewing hay and placing bets. Fonzy, short for Alfonzo, has been running his secret side hustle and making a tidy little return in the barn for some time. He’s well stocked for the winter and about as smug as a lion.

They’re in the same barn they've been in for what, coming on just over thirty years? She still holds but you can hear the wind howl when Mother Nature puts on a show. We usually huddle together til the whole thing passes. A couple times she’s even been struck down with some lightning. Fonzy and the others survived of course, but everyone was so shook, no one ate their hay or went outside in the morning til Jolene came in and told us it was all okay. She’s good like that, Jolene. Always making sure everyone’s warm, giving us a hug, coming in with fresh apples.

Fonzy is sort of, I dunno how to describe him. He’s a treat. One of those uncles you always want to be around. He’s seen some shit. He’s been in the barn for ages, even before Whispers, but he doesn’t like to talk about it. Says it haunts him. This is back before Jolene bought the farm. Used to be some kinda place where they grew pigs just to kill ‘em. Can you imagine? Growing pigs just to watch them die. Fonzy had a brother, but he didn’t make it. Jolene didn’t get there in time. So now Fonzy sort of runs the barn I guess. Everyone knows to give him the last word.

The barn is so cosy, even in winter, we never feel the chill. She’s big and wooden and creaks a lot, but it’s homely. We’re in the corner immediately as you walk in. Jolene’s prized possessions. We have hay for days and a beautiful puddle for playing, though it’s mostly me and Scratch that like to nuzzle into it. We have a few neighbours who we usually get along with. The chickens are my favourite.

“I got Jay too.” Scratch slides in from the gate. She’s already muddy and wet and has a little smirk on her face. Classic Scratch.

“Twenty on Jay.”

“Nah. Make it fifty.”

There’s a whistle from Fonzy. “You sure about that Scratch?”

Scratch leans back slowly on her hay and settles in. If she had sunglasses she’d put them on.

“Did you see how she was looking at Jay? No way it’s not him again tonight.”

The other two consider this. Scratch snorts and pulls at her tail.

“Okay, fifty. But how you gonna get that if it’s not Jay?”

“It’ll be Jay.”

“But what if it’s not?”

Scratch sighs and leans back further. “You just worry about your fifty, okay Fonz?”

There’s a braying from across the barn.

“Oh hell no Scratch, you aint gon’ come in here with your dank snout again, sniffing around for our apples, who you think you playin’ with?”

That’s Tilly. She’s the feistiest goat I’ve ever met. Well her and Mae, her sister.

“Naaawww, Scratch if I even catch you lookin’ over here girl...” Tilly eyeballs Scratch with her weird horizontal pupils that always put me off.

“Relax Tills, I got my sources.” Scratch looks back at us and winks.

We’ve been doing this every morning for the past few weeks. There’s not much to do in winter, and Jolene only lets us out for a bit cos it's so cold and there’s not much daylight. So the rest of the time it’s me and uncle Fonzy and my big brother Tyler just sort of cruising. Scratch goes on her own adventures and brings me sometimes, but she says I’m too young to really explore with her.

“You guys placed your bets already?” Whispers leans over from his side of the fence. He’s wearing his chequered green and red throw, looking like some kinda early Christmas present. His smooth, shiny brown coat glistens in the rays of light pouring in from the open barn door. His brown leather saddle hangs right beside him, along with a few other hooks and shoe looking things.

“Whispers! As I live and breathe! Thought betting was beneath the equine permeance?” Fonzy looks up with a smile.

“Oh it is, I just wanted to warn you. Looks like heavy rain later.”

“Whispers it’s full sun and not a cloud in the sky,” I say, peering through The Crack in our corner, “Jolene will definitely be out tonight.”

Whispers stares back at me, his long nostrils and ears catching me off guard.

“Trust me, little one. It will rain. And don’t let your uncle entice you with his games, or his apples. It’s not good for your soul.”

“Can it, Whispers. We’re live and we’re large and we live on the edge. If Rascal wants to place a bet on the man Jolene’s gonna have over tonight, then Rascal can have a go, can’t he?”

Scratch always chimes in for me. I like it. Even when I don't need her to, it’s nice to know there’s someone in my corner.

“I would but I don't have any apples.”

“Thats okay Rascal, I got plenty I can lend you,” Scratch winks at me, her eyes twinkling with mischief.

Whispers sighs. “Suit yourselves. Just remember to be inside before sunset.”

Whispers bows his long head and neck back to his side of the fence and disappears. I like him, even though Fonzy and the rest give him a hard time. When we lost Secrets, he was so... I don't even know how to describe it. Bleak. Empty. Like a little fire died inside him. Secrets was a white mare with a luscious mane and the most gentle, honest eyes I’d ever seen. She would tell me stories of pastures and grass way out, way past our cosy little farm, for she used to roam free. Til she found Whispers. She met him out in our paddock and they became soulmates. Secrets had a voice as soft as silk and she would hum the loveliest songs to me when I was scared and couldn’t fall asleep.

“Hey Rascal, wanna go find Becky and ask her about the shadows again?”

Becky is always busy. She’s always clucking away, trying to make sure Brit and Blanche and Betsy are around and got their heads on straight. Few months back, a fox broke into our barn and stole Barb, so the girls have been on high alert. They jump at every noise, every shadow. They like us though, cos we’re loud and scare away any lurking predators.

“Beckstar! What’s good mama, how’s the coup today?” Scratch drops into the chook pen, sniffing at their hay, digging for apples.

“Big day, babe, big day. Been back and forth, bit busy. Brit, Blanche begging for bread. Betsy’s back busted. Busted back. Been busy. Black seed. Big. But good babe. You be good?”

Becky is lovely. I enjoy my time with her because she doesn't have any lessons to teach and just takes it one day at a time. Sometimes I think Whispers should join us, might be good for him to take it easy too.

***

Whispers was right. The rain hits the roof and explodes in loud, rhythmic drumming.

The sun’s setting and Jolene is nowhere to be seen. That’s unlike her. Usually when there’s a storm like this, she comes in to count everyone, make sure we’re all here.

“Whispers! Hey, Whispers! What’s the forecast like for the rest of the night?” Scratch yells over the beating water, “We in til day break or what?”

The rain’s started to leak into the barn from the open door. The water thuds off the wooden walls.

“Whispers!” Scratch yells again, “What's the forecast?”

The rain falls harder. You can see sheets of it right outside our barn.

“Whispers?”

Scratch looks at me and I look at Scratch. Fonzy and Tyler are by the door watching the rain. Tills and Mae are huddled together in their corner, on a fresh pile of hay. I know Becky and her friends are safe because I can’t hear any protests.

Scratch and I waddle over to Whisper’s fence. We sniff at the bottom, trying to pick up his scent.

“Anything?”

“Nah, I got nothing, you?”

“Nothing."

We keep sniffing.

“Whispers!” I yell, over the fence, “You there?”

Where could he be? I look around our cosy barn and see all my friends, all my hay. No Whispers.

A wave of cold, wet fear suddenly hits me.

‘Whispers!”

I run over to The Crack. It’s a little blocked with hay from the rain. Scratch is behind me, calling for Whispers too.

The rain falls harder. Tilly or Mae bray from the other side and we hear a loud crack and a deep, rolling clap of thunder.

I clear the hay and bring my eye up to The Crack.

He’s there. Outside. Whispers is standing outside, right in the middle of the paddock. His coat slings to one side, heavy with the rain. His neck, head and ears all point straight up.

“Whispers!” I yell, “Whispers, get back inside!”

There’s no movement. He stands still.

I’m starting to breathe faster. The rain is heavier still, relentless drumming filling our ears.

I turn around “Guys, it’s Whispers. He’s not coming in.”

Fonzy and Tyler stir. Tilly and Mae don’t seem to move. Another loud crack explodes. So loud this time it takes a second for my ears to adjust back. The low rumbling cascades down, rain still beating.

I run back to The Crack. Scratch is there.

“He’s okay but still not moving.”

Scratch pulls herself away from The Crack. “You watch him, I’ll get everyone else.”

I peer through The Crack. Whispers still right there, same spot, completely still.

“Whispers, please come back,” I say softly, “Please.”

The rain keeps falling.

“Whispers,” I say louder, “Get inside! I will never place a bet, I swear! Just please, come back!”

The rain keeps falling.

“Whispers,” I now yell, “Whispers, get inside!”

The rain keeps falling.

I hear the others behind me, they’ve all started to call out to Whispers. A cacophony of every single one of us, pleading for him to come back.

Another loud crack. I inhale, hard. A blinding flash of lightning makes me double back. Blinking, I come up to The Crack. Please be Okay.

I look out.

Whispers is gone.

I scan the paddock, it’s hard to see in this rain.

My eye catches something. Movement. Coming closer.

The rain keeps falling.

My eyes widen. It’s Whispers. He’s galloping all around the paddock in some kind of frenzy.

“He’s there!” I yell to everyone, “He’s still there!”

The barn explodes in braying, clucking, snorting and the loudest symphony of cries you’ve ever heard.

The rain’s drowned out by our calls to Whispers. I watch him gallop and suddenly stop. It looks like he turned his head towards the barn. Towards us.

We yell louder.

Whispers still standing there, but alert like a trance has been broken.

We yell louder.

Whispers starts to move slowly towards the barn.

A loud crack explodes again. This time I don’t close my eyes. A nearby tree is struck, now smoking. The thunder roars and rumbles and we yell even louder.

Whispers starts to gallop towards us. His coat has almost fallen off. We yell louder.

I inhale as Whispers comes into full view. He’s drenched. He stops right before going into the barn. I watch from The Crack.

Whispers takes one more moment and glances back towards the paddock. He breathes in and trots inside.

I pull myself away from the wall and rush towards him. We all do. Whispers stands in the middle of the barn, dripping wet, but also magnetic.

“Fonzy” he says, “put me down for twenty."