Chapter 9

James then carried Beatrice into the stable, first lifting her high in his arms, and then going right through the open stable doors. He took her in the small room where Vicky was in one bed and already asleep, and he lay Beatrice down in the other one, and she was asleep before her head hit the pillow.

James watched them both for a few minutes longer, and then he went back outside. First he took a look at Jocko who seemed all done in. He had to laugh at that, and he patted Jocko on the flanks before he went outside. It was pitch black out and it was more than just chilly.

James felt a sudden chill and then he felt a slight degree of fear, although he wasn't exactly sure just what it was that he was supposed to be afraid of. Not being able to think of anything, he drove the thought, and even the fear from his mind. He had more important things to think about and worry about than some unknown fear.

He couldn't see very well, and he made his way very cautiously in what he thought was the direction of the parking lot where Vicky had parked the car (he had flown up on a private plane himself and that was why he had gotten there before they did). He stumbled and almost fell more than once.

Finally when he reached the car--and it seemed like it took him a full hour to get there--he opened the door and climbed in the back seat. He lay down full length in the back seat, and before he knew it he was asleep. And then, before he was halfway through his dream, a hand was shaking him awake.

It turned out to be Beatrice.

"What time is it?" he asked,

"I don't know," she responded. "My watch stopped, and I haven't bothered to ask anyone. We'll find out soon enough."

"How is Vicky?" he then asked, as if he was afraid to, and in a way he was.

"Your little wife is doing fine," Beatrice chimed, meaning every word because she wanted to more than anything else in the world. "In fact, she's out horseback riding and has been for a few hours now. I guess she got up at the crack of dawn, and she's been riding around that track ever since. She looks good on a horse."

"As good as she looks under a horse?" he asked.

"Probably," Beatrice replied, adding nothing further because she could sense his bad mood.

"That horse could have fallen on her and killed her," he said, not knowing if he was angry because it hadn't done that, or just mad at himself for wanting it to happen, and yet glad that it didn't.

"I hear some queen or something died like that," Beatrice said. "I read it in this history book that told about the sex lives of royalty. This queen, or whatever she was, loved horses, and she wouldn't let anything else fuck her. Nothing or no one at all. She just liked big, ugly work horses though and not racing horses. The bigger and uglier they were the better she liked it. She said that they had bigger cocks than all the other horses. Anyway, she was going at this one horse, and she had this contraption set up where the horse was almost standing up on his back legs. She was riding him good with everything she had when the cables broke and he just fell right on top of her and killed her. They don't tell things like that in the average history book. You have to look for those things, and I did. I'm glad I did too."