The Thunder-Horse

The Thunder-Horse by Alyx Shaw Page A

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Authors: Alyx Shaw
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There had been other forms of abuse as well, and the pain and terror inflicted on little Nathan had not been forgotten when one day little Nathan became big Nathan -- big as in six-foot-nine, three hundred and twenty pounds, and toned and powerful from years of working his rage out in the boxing ring. Nathan's father, Phil, had shown up exactly once to try to mooch off his famous son. He'd spent three months in the hospital as a result.
    Nathan rarely smiled, and despite being rich and famous and talented as both a fighter and a singer; he didn't enjoy life so much as endure it. The only people he seemed to actually like were his bandmates, and even they were kept at a certain distance. But he liked the horse, and the horse liked him.
    It made Andrew genuinely happy, right down to his Gucci dress shoes, to see Nathan respond to something living, and to have that thing return his affection. From what Andrew was able to gather from speaking to the horse wranglers, the beautiful Friesian stallion had not had a happy childhood either, and had suffered being ill and neglected, first at a breeding farm more interested in profit than care, and then again at the hands of a rescuer who turned out to be little more than an emotionally disturbed animal hoarder. Eventually, the horse had ended up in the hands of the company that currently owned him, where he remained disgruntled and embittered with the human race. Small wonder Nathan and the horse were bonding. Still, it was obvious that the two brought out the best in each other, and it wasn't long before Nathan and the great beast were tearing around the Texas scrub like the Lone Ranger and Silver.
    "Gonna break his heart when we have to give that horse back," said Daryl, watching Nathan ride by.
    Andrew had been thinking the same thing, and while he was all in favor of anything that made Nathan happy, the animal simply did not belong to them. Nathan seemed to have overlooked that detail. So had the horse, apparently, because the day they came to take him away, the animal fought his handlers every inch of the way, bracing his hooves in the dirt and refusing to move. Andrew did not believe the animal was mistreated, but he doubted it got much in the way of attention that was not related to work. Still, it made him ill to watch the two men try to fight the mighty equine into his trailer. At one point, the horse reared, trying to pull free, but succeeded only in slipping and falling heavily. Nathan, unable to stand it anymore, walked over to the handlers to take the lead, growling at the smaller men as the horse slowly got to his feet, shaking and a little dazed.
    "Fuck off," said Nathan to the handler.
    "What do you mean, fuck off?" asked the handler.
    "I mean leave my horse alone."
    "I think you mean my horse!"
    "No, I mean I'll mail you a check for what he's worth, and you can cash it or shove up your ass or whatever the fuck makes you happy."
    The handler stared at Nathan as he turned to the black horse and took off the lead rope and halter, dropping them onto the ground. He reached up and took hold of the pointed ears, bending them gently, pressing his face to the animal's.
    "Stupid horse," he said. He then released it, gave it a slap on the shoulder and walked away, the great Friesian following amicably at his side.
    "I need a beer," muttered Nathan.
    The horse snorted in what sounded like agreement. The handlers simply packed up their gear and left, clearly in no mood to face off with Nathan Maynard.
    Nathan, it seemed, had just bought a horse.
    The creature's name was Lord Willoughby's Shades of Evening, but no one called him that. He was Horse. Andrew had, at first, worried Nathan would get bored, and the animal would be left to rot in a paddock somewhere, but that didn't happen. Even when Nathan had no time for him, someone was with Horse. He was never left to wallow in loneliness, neglected and forgotten. Daryl would go talk to him, and braid his shaggy mane, though he never

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