The Tack Trader

The barn was cold for an April morning here. The smell of bran mash and alfalfa was the stuff dreams were made of. In the third stall down, on the left, Travis sat with a sorrel mare named Kite. He carefully picked the excess of her chestnuts off of her right front leg. The crunch of hay, and the picking of the boney growth, was all that could be heard.

This mare would go to auction today, like so many others. It had been that way the past few months. Travis's father was sinking quickly and if anything were a sign of that it would be the dilapidated Barn. You see, he had gone into business with Henry. A hunched, scouring, greedy little man. When the racing contract fell through dad was in debt to Henry for $20,000. Now Henry was looking to collect. Not only was he taking their beloved horses he was taking other things from Travis that's best not meant for your ears.

At 16 years old, many times Travis sat in the barn contemplating all of the ways that Henry could disappear. And all of the ways that they could save their barn, and his father's dream. He didn't know about the atrocious things that have been happening to Travis at the hands of Henry. It was best to keep it that way. Mother had been ill for some time and the goal right now was to save what they could, how they could. But the problem was, the promises made to Travis for the extracurricular horrors that were taking place were not truly going towards their debt. And he had reached the point he had had enough. But what can a boy his age do? And what would happen if he were jailed for the rest of his life? Who would do the hard labor and who would help take care of Mother?

Kite was a beautiful Mare of 14 years. Still in her prime and his mother's favorite. Regardless of Sire, she consistently dropped winners every single foal season. and today she would go to sell under the name of Henry. Travis was angered by this. Henry had promised he would never take their horses, if Travis only did as he asked. Today will have to be the day, he thought to himself. I have to do something about that fat bastard. Henry would be driving up the way in about 2 hours, horse trailer in tow, to pick her up and take her away. He sat there quietly fussing over the beautiful beast and thinking of all the ways that he could make this stop once and for all. Knowing full well it was only fleeting, inaccessible day dreaming.

The bouncing, squeaking, screeching sound of a truck and trailer coming down the dirt pathway made Travis jump to his feet. "He can not be here this early!" Travis said to himself in anger. He dropped the mares foot he had been picking and walk down the aisle way out to the stable yard to see what in the hell was going on. But, when he stepped outside and looked towards the drive, it was not Henry's truck and trailer slowly creeping toward him. It wasn't a horse trailer at all. It was an old GMC pickup truck hauling behind a closed box trailer. Was it a new horseshoer? Certainly not, They've been doing their own farrier work on the horses for four months. They couldn't afford a real one. As the truck inched closer, Travis made out some words faded on the side of the box.

"Tuffy's Tack Trading Company". He had never heard of them before and when the truck pulled up a few yards away, he had certainly never seen this man before. Out stepped a gentleman, tall and thin. His wispy, grey beard grew into his nose and seemingly up around behind his ears. He wore blue jeans and an old undershirt. "Can I help you, Sir?", Travis asked as he approached. The man looked up and smiled a near toothless grin. "Why yes, my dear boy! I hear you have a mare here by the name of "Katrine's Kite", He replied. Travis, confused, brushed some dirt off his jeans. He could feel his expression turn downward. "Did Henry send you, Sir?" The man laughed, "That old bag didn't send anything! I have come to make you a trade for one breeding to my stallion!" As he walked toward the barn, Travis hurried after him. "I am sorry. She's leaving at noon to go to the sale. You could try to talk to Mister Henry there." The man spun toward Travis on his heels, "Nonsense! I came here to speak to you."

The situation was becoming frustrating. The man walked into the barn and directly to Kite. It was as if he had been here before. "Sir. Please, let me go get my father." The man, admiring the mare who was gently nuzzling his hand with her upper lip, replied frankly, "Travis, your father is busy up there with your poor mom. This will be our deal, ok?" How does he know who I am?, he thought. Suddenly, a sinking feeling hit Travis. Was this guy some weirdo friend that Henry had sent? He started to back up to run away, but the man put a firm hand on his shoulder. "Do not fear me, son. Come. I will show you what I have to trade." Reluctantly, Travis followed him back to the box trailer.

They walked around to the backside of the trailer and the man opened the double doors. The dark box was filled with old and new tack. Harnesses, saddles, bridles, and even buggy parts. "Sir-" He started, but the man was inside the trailer rummaging around. "Ah!", he exclaimed "Here she is!". With his giant, strangely endearing smile, he jumped out with his findings in hand. A beautiful light racing saddle with a full lead pad underneath. He forcefully placed the tack in Travis's hands. "This is the finest, most surprising, saddle you will ever see! I will trade you this, and the full lead pad, for one breeding to my horse. But, only with your Kite!" At this point, Travis almost felt bad to disappoint the man. "Sir, I really wish I could do this for you. And the saddle is really great. But, Henry is taking my mothers' mare soon to the sale. Maybe you can just buy her there?" The man slammed the trailer doors closed, and started toward the driver side of the truck. "My young friend, you are quite the argumentative type. I will be back tomorrow at noon to drop my fine young stud off for a week of covering your mare." He got into the truck and turned the engine over. Travis started to speak again, but the man waved with a gleeful expression and took off back toward the driveway.

Confused, Travis looked toward his house in the distance. He was a bit shocked his father hadn't come out during this strange encounter. Perhaps Mother wasn't doing well this morning. He decided he would put the saddle in the tack room, and have his father return it to the man when he showed up tomorrow. He hadn't even left a name or number. After placing the saddle on a wall rack, he went back to Kite to finish up her groom before her departure. Bringing her out to the cross ties, she nudged him quietly. "You'll be ok, gal. Someone will be lucky to have you. ", he whispered. He pulled out a rasp and began filing her hooves to tidy them up a bit. Without him realizing it, hours passed as he fussed over the mare.

"It's 2:00!" He squealed to himself as he finally looked up at the dusty, round clock between the feed room and the tack room door. Henry was late? He put the sleepy horse back in her box stall and started toward his house when, yet again, he heard the sound of an approaching vehicle. Wait, it was more than one vehicle and the sound was much smoother and lighter than a truck and trailer. He peered around the barn. Two police vehicles were bouncing down the overgrown driveway. The slam of the porch door up at the house alerted him that his father was also approaching. "What is going on?", Travis whispered to himself. The two Sherriffs turned off their cars just as Travis's father approached them. He didn't know what to do, so he stood quietly at the barn entrance and listened.

"Mister Hansworth?", one officer acknowledged as his father appeared. "Yes Sir. What's this about?" At this point, Travis was overcome with curiosity and walked over to stand by an officer who nodded a friendly gesture at him. The other officer replied, "Do you know a Henry Baquette?" Travis and his father looked at one another, shocked. "I do. We expected him here two hours ago to pick up a horse for the sale tomorrow. Is he ok?" The officer handed him a piece of paper while Travis struggled not to look suspicious, even though he hadn't done anything wrong. "Mister Hansworth, we are sorry to inform you that we found Henry Baquette expired up on route 27. It appears he had a single-vehicle accident. We are still investigating." Travis felt his eyes widen in disbelief. The officer continued, "There was no next of kin contact information. We found this horse registration transfer in the vehicle, so we made contact here in hopes you could direct us to friends or family." Mr. Hansworth wiped his brow and squinted at the paper. He seemed confused and bewildered. He looked over at Travis, "Yes. Yes come with me inside I will get my address book. Travis, go tend to the horses quickly and then head up to help with Mom." He nodded in obedience. Having already gotten his chores done, he headed up to his mother.

A few hours later, Travis headed back down to the barn. He was still in a dream state of trying to determine whether or not any of this was really happening. His father had made no mention of the strange man who had arrived only hours before. Yet, he heard the police as soon as they started down the driveway. As he made his way to the feed room, the saddle and lead pad caught his eye. He looked around to make sure nobody else was in the barn and stepped into the tack room. The saddle was supple and looked new. It was probably expensive. He ran his fingers over its billets, then across the lead pad. The fabric had the familiar rectangular lumps of the saddle weights. All uniform, in perfect rows. Except, one of the lead weight spaces seemed different. It was thicker than the others. Travis reached in to pull it out of the smooth fabric pad. It wasn't a saddle weight at all. It was a small, black book. Looking around again to check that he was alone, he opened it. Inside was a bank check. Travis put the paper close to his face as if what he was seeing wasn't really there. But, it was. Clearly printed on the check were his Fathers name, today's date, and an amount of 20,000 dollars. The check was signed "Tuffy's Tack Trading Company."