A little later Steve heard footsteps outside the shed. He turned as the door opened, and he said, “Jay, you mustn’t forget …” Then he stopped abruptly, for it wasn’t Jay whom he saw.
A thin, sallow face peered around the door, small eyes bright and searching. Steve’s muscles tensed. He was certain the man had not expected to find any person inside the shed. But apparently the stranger knew about Flame, for he cast a quick interested glance at the stallion. Then his beady eyes fixed themselves on Steve.
“What do you want?” Steve asked.
The door opened wider and the man stepped inside, closing the door behind him. He wore a torn cotton shirt and his thick black hair grew far down on the sides of his head. Moving noiselessly on bare feet, he took several steps forward, both hands outstretched and shoulders hunched.
Steve moved toward him, very tense but unafraid. No one was going to get at Flame, and this man was no bigger than himself … and apparently unarmed. “What do you want?” he repeated.
Only when the stranger was less than a foot away did he speak, and then it was in Spanish, which Steve did not understand. But the man’s actions made it plain that he was determined to reach Flame. His eyes were on the stallion, and he took another step closer to the stall door.
As Flame snorted, Steve attempted to stop the man. He saw the stranger’s hand go quickly to his back pocket. He was certain the man was reaching either for a knife or a gun. He jumped on him, his fingers digging into the man’s wrist and around it, imprisoning the hand within the pocket. His free arm swept around the thin chest, while his legs struck the stranger’s stiff knees, bringing him down hard on the floor. He brought the man’s other arm back, doubling it behind him and twisting it.
The stranger struggled but Steve did not release his grip; instead he tightened it even more, conscious only of a frenzy to protect his horse.
Suddenly the door opened and Jay entered, carrying a tray of fried eggs, toast, bacon and a pot of coffee. When he saw the two struggling figures he almost dropped the tray. “What is it, Steve?” he shouted. “What’s happening here?”
“Don’t stand there!” Steve shouted back, for the man had managed to get one hand free.
Jay moved toward them, but he didn’t put down the tray. Instead he bent over awkwardly to look at the stranger’s lowered face. Then he asked in surprise, “Qué es, Juan?”
A torrent of angry Spanish words burst forth from the stranger while Steve sought to regain his hold of him. “Don’t stand there, Jay!” he called again. “Put down that tray and help.”
But Jay was laughing so he could hardly stop. Meanwhile Flame was screaming and the stranger was still shouting. Only Steve was quiet, furiously quiet.
Finally Jay managed to stop laughing. He spilled some coffee on his bathrobe and proceeded to wipe it off while he said to Steve, “Let him go. He’s our neighbor!”
Steve kept tight hold of the man. “I don’t care,” he said savagely. “He tried to get to Flame!”
“What’s wrong with feeding Flame a carrot?” Jay asked, starting to laugh again. He pried Steve’s hand loose from the man’s wrist, and withdrew a large carrot from the stranger’s back pocket. Holding it directly in front of Steve’s face, he said patiently, “Now let him go, Steve. He says you’re hurting him very much and he’s furious.”
Steve’s arms dropped quickly to his sides, and he said, “I’m sorry. If only he’d told me.”
The stranger leaned forward till their noses were almost touching, and Steve understood only the anger in the renewed outburst. Turning helplessly to Jay, he pleaded, “Tell him I didn’t know, that I’m sorry.”
Jay chuckled. “I guess Juan realizes by now that you don’t understand Spanish.” He took the man by the arm and led him to the door. Even after they were outside Steve heard and felt the visitor’s wrath.
Later Jay returned to the shed and they ate breakfast in silence. Only when their plates were wiped clean did Jay say, “You’re a very suspicious young fellow, Steve.”
“I think I had a right to be,” Steve answered.
“I suppose so since you don’t understand Spanish,” Jay agreed. “Juan lives just down the road, sort of a farmer-caretaker more than a fisherman. I met him yesterday. It was he who had the key to this place and showed me around, even did our marketing for us. I told him we’d have a horse here today. He loves them but can’t afford one of his own.”
Steve looked up from his plate, his eyes angry. “Don’t make it any harder for me, Jay. I said I’m sorry, and I meant it.”
“I apologize,” Jay said kindly. “However, I just feel that you’re going to get yourself into a lot of trouble by being so suspicious of these people. Or you’ll make them suspicious of us by your very actions, and that’s worse. Take it easy, Steve. You don’t see me getting upset, and I’ve a lot more to conceal than you have.”
Steve rose from the bale of straw and went to Flame. “You’re right,” he conceded. “I’m not very good at pretending to be what I’m not.”
Jay laughed. “That’s understandable, Steve. You’ve never had occasion to do it before. Now take me, I’m an old hand at this sort of thing. And the first rule, Steve, is never to be put on the defensive. Take the offensive right away. Make it plain that you’re a man of action, a man …”
Steve interrupted, smiling for the first time. “Didn’t I do that?” he asked.
“Of course, Steve. But you didn’t even know what Juan wanted here.” Jay shook his head sadly. “I’m really afraid you’re going to get yourself into a terrible jam in Havana today by not understanding Spanish. Perhaps …” He turned and faced Steve without completing his sentence.
Steve said, “You really want to go in my place, don’t you? That’s why you talked about my being so suspicious of the people here.”
“Oh, no, Steve,” Jay replied. “I’ll gladly stay with Flame. Unless, of course, you’d prefer my going. And I’ll tell you one thing, if I go no one will put anything over on me. I’ll see that you race, all right.” He stopped, waiting hopefully, his eyes never leaving the boy.
Steve went over to Flame, and as he stood close to him he remembered his earlier concern at leaving him alone with Jay. “Okay, Jay,” he said. “I guess you are better equipped to go.”
The little man jumped nimbly in the air, bringing the heels of his leather slippers together with a soft little click. “I’ll get dressed and leave right away, Steve!” He rushed to the door, then stopped and turned around. “I do hope you won’t be bored being left alone. I’ll get back just as soon as I can.”
Steve waited until the door closed behind Jay, then he turned to his horse. Bored? He had Flame for company, and there was a lot to think about. Tomorrow they might be going to Havana themselves.
THE WEALTHY GENTLEMAN
13
Jay was in no hurry to reach Havana once he had left Steve and Flame behind. He was enjoying his close contact with people from Earth and their acceptance of him as one of their own. He was happy, too, over the way he had handled Steve. Of course, everything he had said was quite true. With his background he could handle the racetrack officials far better than an inexperienced boy. However, there was no need to think of that little job just yet. All that mattered now was that he was on his own and could enjoy himself as much as he liked.
He had been standing in the aisle of the crowded Havana-bound bus for a long while, and his fine black homburg hat had been knocked off his head several times. But he had taken the jostling from the other passengers very well. In fact, he had joked about it to those standing close by. At first they hadn’t laughed with him, feeling perhaps that he was not one of them. Oh, not that they knew he was from Alula. Indeed not, nothing like that. Rather it was his clothes—his fine dark hat, suit and tie and his white shirt with the stiff collar—these and the silver-handled cane he carried must have given them the impression that he was a very wealthy man, and they had been afraid to joke with him.
All this had changed, however, when a sudden stop had thrown him down hard to the floor, and a very fat woman had landed on top of him. Of course she had hurt him dreadfully, and he must have looked ridiculous while two grinning men had pulled the lady to her feet. Everyone had laughed at his frightful predicament. After that it had been easy to get along with them.
Halfway to Havana he found that most passengers were changing buses, and he decided to go along with these very nice people.
“But you were going to the city,” the man next to him said in very bad Spanish. “This is not the way. We go to work in the factories.”
“I’ll go along,” Jay said quietly, slurring his Spanish, just as the man had done. “I’m in no hurry, and I enjoy your company very much.”
The man shook his head sadly but smiled at the same time. The other passengers too, Jay noted, were pleased that he was accompanying them, for they called out and made very pleasant remarks to him.
The other bus was waiting for them and he was very flattered when his new friends insisted upon his having a seat this time.
He never remembered a more wonderful trip than the one that followed. Oh, it was true they all made much fun of him and his apparent wealth. They told him that he would never get a job in the factory wearing such beautiful clothes. They passed his black homburg around, each one trying it on while he in turn wore their straw hats. They even took his cane and he thought for a while that he would never see it again. But eventually it came back to him, just as his hat did.
It was all a great deal of fun, and he was sorry when it came to an end. By separate large groups the passengers left the bus at factories along the way, and finally he was alone and the driver asked if he were going to spend the day with him. Only then did Jay think of Havana and the business at hand.
Glancing at his gold watch he said impatiently, “I must get to Havana immediately.”
The driver smiled tolerantly. “Then you must ride back with me to where you got on. Once there you must wait for still another bus.”
“How long will all that take?” Jay asked anxiously, getting to his feet.
“It will not be soon,” the driver said. “I do not leave here for another thirty minutes.”
“Is there no other way to reach Havana?” Jay looked out the windows. “Are there no taxis?” On the gate of a nearby factory he saw a huge poster announcing the great International Race to be run the next day at El Dorado Park, and his impatience to reach the city broke out afresh. “There must be cars to hire out here,” he said.
The bus driver smiled, and his eyes surveyed Jay’s fine clothes again. “If there are any around they will find you,” he said.
“But what do you suggest I do?” Jay asked.
“Get out and walk,” the driver said. “Something should happen very quickly.”
“Thank you. Thank you very much,” Jay answered in his finest Spanish.
He walked past the factory and down the asphalt-topped road, looking for a taxi. But the only signs of activity came from the belching smokestacks. He felt very much alone with everyone working but himself. He hurried along, climbing a steep hill. At the top he could see nothing before him but great fields of sugar cane on either side of the road. He knew then that it would do no good to walk aimlessly along, waiting for something to happen, as the bus driver had suggested.
As he stood there, his eyes on the long empty stretch of road, his ears listening for the sound of a car, he became more nervous than ever. It was most frustrating! He looked up at the sky. There was a large black buzzard circling just above him. Oh, he could get to Havana all right. But his flying was very much against the rules on such a trip as this. They’d leave him here if they ever found out. He’d never see home again.
Pearly beads of perspiration appeared on his forehead and he swept them angrily away. His Earth body functioned in a very strange manner indeed.…
He waited longer, but not patiently. Well, if there was no alternative he had to take a chance of getting to Havana the only way left, although he certainly wished … He looked at the buzzard again. It was such a big bird.… Suddenly he heard the noise of a car’s engine, and with great relief turned toward it.
The car came up the hill, hissing and rattling under the strain of making the steep ascent. Jay stepped out in the middle of the road and raised his hand high in the air.
The car stopped, but the driver, barely glancing at Jay, got out and went forward to remove the cap from the steaming radiator.
Jay jumped back at sight of the geyser of steam that emerged, and the man laughed at him. He was still laughing when he went to the back of the car and returned with a large can of water which he poured into the hot radiator. Then he put back the cap and turned to Jay, studying him closely for the first time.
His eyes brightened as he scrutinized Jay’s fine clothes and the silver-handled cane. “Sir,” he said anxiously, “you are in trouble, and in need of help?”
“I must reach Havana at once,” Jay said, using his finest, richest Spanish. He had met this type of man before, and had not forgotten how best to impress him. “If I may hire your car and services …”
“But of course,” the man interrupted, opening the car door with a great flourish. “We will waste no time in further words while not in transit. I understand your emergency and quickly respond to your bidding.” He hurried Jay into the car, happy that no fare for the trip had been set and he could demand his own figure upon their arrival in Havana.
Jay made no attempt to carry on a conversation with this man as he had done with his good friends on the bus. He was a sullen person who would not have helped him, or anyone else for that matter, without expecting and obtaining a very high price for his services.
While the man talked on and on, Jay looked out at the countryside, trying hard to concentrate on the fields of cane, the citrus fruit orchards and finally the long avenues that were shaded by laurel trees, ceibas and stately royal palms. Eventually, the road descended to the sea and a light wind brought the smell of dead sea grass lying in the hot sun. He glanced at his watch again, and seeing that it was almost noon he fidgeted more than before.
“It won’t be long now,” the man said, letting the car roll recklessly down the hill. “See, there is the dome of the Capitol!”
Jay only nodded, not sharing the man’s jubilation at sight of the city. The important thing was that other cars were now on the road, most of them passing quickly by. If anything happened to the sputtering engine he would not be without further conveyance.
From having studied the ship’s screen the day before, he knew where they were in Havana. The towering National Hotel was near the white dome of the Capitol, and then he could see the Morro Castle, and many other buildings, all looking clean and beautiful in the bright noonday sun.
For a moment he thought of the fun it would be just to sit quietly in some restaurant, watching the people that passed … or, better still, walking leisurely through the streets, talking to passers-by. He turned his gaze away from the buildings to watch a ship leaving the harbor. Still farther beyond were some fishing smacks. His eyes remained on the dark line made by the Gulf Stream, and he thought of the lonely island from which Steve and Flame had come.… Then he remembered all he had promised the boy.
“I’ll be getting out soon,” he told the driver.
“But, sir, this is only the suburbs.”
“I know,” Jay answered, “but there is no need of my going downtown. I must go directly to El Dorado Park.”
“The racetrack? Then I will take you there. It is a much longer ride, of course.”
“No, I will get a taxi, thank you. There’s one now.”
“But there is no need,” the man said insolently. “I can take you there as well. And the fare …”
“No,” Jay insisted, “a taxi suits me better.”
“Better?” the man asked irritably.
Jay’s face flushed. “I mean that it will get me there faster. Please st
op now, and I will pay you.”
The driver jammed the foot brake. “I will have to charge you for the whole trip,” he said, smiling. “All the way to El Dorado Park, since it is there that you intended to go.”
“That’s perfectly all right,” Jay said, glad that the car had stopped and he was able to get out. Opening the door, he hailed a taxi, and then turned to the man in the car. “You’ve been most kind,” he said, taking a bill from his wallet and handing it to him.
The driver looked at the bill, and said nothing. It was more than he would have asked for, and he had intended to charge a great deal. When he took his eyes off the bill, he saw his wealthy passenger climbing into the taxi. “Sir,” he called, “one moment, please.”
Jay waited, wondering what the man wanted. Surely he had paid him well.
The man’s eyes were bright, almost frantic, Jay thought.
“Yes?” Jay said.
“Sir, perhaps you know the winner of the great race tomorrow? No doubt you are a famous horseman. And it would help me greatly to know the name of the winning horse.”
Jay closed the taxi door. “It would help me too,” he said through the open window.
“But, sir …”
The taxi moved, and Jay told the driver, “El Dorado Park, please. And skirt the traffic. I’m in a great hurry.”
Jay sat back, content that he had done right in transferring to the taxi. Not only because he would reach the Park much faster, but also because he would make a much better impression arriving there in a taxi rather than in the unfashionable vehicle he had just left. The latter was important because he well knew how much emphasis was placed upon such things by Earth-men. And, of course, he must do his best to impress the racetrack officials with his importance from the very beginning. Yes, he must take the offensive immediately, just as he had told Steve.
He relaxed, unaware of the mounting speed of the taxi, the blaring horn and the many near accidents that were avoided as he was taken from one residential section to another. Instead he was thinking that what he should do at once was to telephone the track and advise the officials of his coming. This, too, would be most impressive, especially if he allowed them to think that it was his secretary who was calling.
The Island Stallion Races Page 12