by Rory Barnes
I used to hear about the goings on at the farm from Tanya, who used to get a detailed description of Staxa’s training schedule from Easter when he came round for tea. Frankly, I was glad I was out of it. I was glad I was getting all the news secondhand.
Apparently, just as Tanya had predicted, Luis had gone ape when the anaesthetic wore off and he realized he was a horse. He’d kicked and snorted and tried to speak his mind. But horses throats aren’t designed for speech. Their primitive voice boxes just aren’t up to it. After a while the poor chap had settled down. He still snarled and snorted at Alex and Easter, but he had begun to take his training routine seriously. Easter had high hopes for the Elmbank Cup.
One day, just for fun, I said to Rachel, ‘So how much are you going to bet on Staxa?’
‘I’d never bet on a rigged race,’ Rachel said. ‘That would be cheating.’
‘Oh yeah?’ I said.
‘All right,’ she said, ‘I’d never bet on a race that was rigged by the likes of Luis Greystone. That would be moronic.’
‘I think he’s getting a bit sick of being a horse,’ I said.
‘Surprise, surprise,’ Rachel said.
‘So what are the chances of getting him back into a proper body?’ I said.
‘Hundred percent, I would have thought,’ Rachel said, shrugging. ‘That is, if you take all that cryonics guff seriously.’
‘What’s cryonics got to do with it?’ I said.
‘Look,’ said Rachel. ‘To get Luis back into a human body, we need one. A spare human body. We haven’t got one. Bluey Doigs don’t grow on trees, you know. But the mangled remains of Luis’ old body are in that tank of nitrogen. When Luis gets sick of being a horse, he can take a flying leap into the nitrogen and just sit there until the March of Science has proceeded to the point where someone knows how to mend the old body. Then they can stick his brain back into it. Shouldn’t take long. A few hundred years. A few dozen years. Whatever.’
‘It would be a leap of faith,’ I said.
‘It would be fun to see,’ Rachel said. ‘A huge great horse hitting the nitrogen. It would beat the steeplechasing lark.’
Then one afternoon Tanya dropped into the shop with the usual hoons and delivered an invitation. Easter wanted us all to go out to the farm on the next Sunday for a picnic. Tanya reckoned the little chap basically wanted to show off his riding skills, wanted to impress her mum. I said I’d see what Rachel and Gazza thought.
When I asked them, Rachel shrugged and said, ‘Sure, why not. We could all do with a day in the country. Besides, I’d like to see my patient — give the old boy a post-operative check up.’
So on Sunday morning we all went out to see Luis, otherwise known as Staxa Fun. The farm was about an hour’s drive away, a small, pretty place in a rundown, hobby-farm sort of way. There was an old weatherboard farmhouse with banging screen doors, lots of trees, an overgrown orchard, piles of rusting machinery, a dam with ducks on it, a couple of dusty fields. In one of the fields Staxa Fun was mournfully munching grass. He had other animals for company: a goat, a few sheep, and some chooks scratching about under the trees. Easter and Alex came out to greet us. Alex had changed out of his undertaker gear. He was now wearing a tweed jacket with leather patches on the elbows. We all leaned on a fence and looked at Staxa Fun. Staxa looked up and snarled. A snarling human being is a grim sight. But a snarling horse is grimmer.
‘Easy on, Staxa,’ I said. ‘Easy, boy.’
‘He insists on coming inside at night,’ Alex said.
‘Well, you can’t blame him,’ Rachel said. ‘He is human, after all.’
‘Yeah, but the neighbours don’t know that,’ Alex said. ‘It’s a bit of an embarrassment. Some cow-cocky drops in of an evening for a bit of a chinwag, and there’s this great lump of a horse in the lounge room watching telly.’
‘At least he’s not playing video games,’ Rachel said.
‘He’s started to do that,’ Alex said. ‘Well, not quite games, exactly. He’s started to use my laptop to communicate.’
‘How?’
‘He gets an old wooden spoon and holds it between his teeth and taps the keys.’
‘What’s he say?’
‘Bit hard to read,’ Alex said. ‘He’s not very good at it. Keeps hitting the wrong keys.’
‘Hasn’t your laptop got a spell-check?’ Rachel said.
‘Well, yeah …’
‘Well, make him use that,’ Rachel said. ‘I can’t abide bad spelling. Standards these days are slipping something terrible.’
‘I think he’s a bit too angry to worry about spelling,’ Alex said.
‘What’s he got to be angry about? He’s in the lap of luxury here. Nice grass to eat. Plenty of clean straw. Other animals to go for a frolic with. His old mates from his humanoid days to watch telly with. His own personal vet and trainer. His own personal jockey. What’s he complaining about?’
‘He just doesn’t like being a horse.’
‘He was going to turn Scalp into a horse.’
‘Maybe he sees things in a different light now.’
‘Well, maybe he does,’ said Rachel. ‘Maybe he does.’
We spread a blanket on the ground and organized the picnic. Staxa joined us for lunch. You could tell he was in two minds about it. Half of him craved human company, the other half wanted to trample us all to death. He kept snarling at Rachel.
‘Listen, Staxa Fun,’ Rachel said. ‘If I hadn’t stuffed your brains into the horse, you’d be dead. Got it? You owe your life to me. So stop snarling.’
Staxa snarled.
‘I don’t think he likes being called Staxa Fun,’ Alex said. ‘I think he prefers Luis.’
‘Somebody get him the laptop,’ Rachel said. ‘Let’s see what the poor old beast really thinks.’
Tanya and I went in search of the laptop. We found it on the living room floor. There was a well-chewed wooden spoon next to it. The handle end was all right — it was the wide end that was all chomped up. Tanya picked up the spoon between two fingers and we carried it and the laptop out to the picnic.
‘Here you are, Staxa, or Luis. Tell us your thoughts.’
Staxa sulked. The laptop sat on the grass, its screen glowing dully in the bright sunlight.
‘Come on, Luis,’ Rachel said. ‘I know it’s been a bit of a shock to the system, being turned into a horse, but you can’t bottle it all up inside. You’ve got to let it all out. Talking is the best cure. You’ve got to unburden yourself to sharing, caring, compassionate friends. That’s us.’
Staxa continued to glower at us all.
‘What about apples?’ Tanya said. ‘That’s what they did with Clever Hans. Gave him apples.’ She picked up an apple from the picnic basket and offered it to Staxa. ‘Good horsey, nice horsey,’ she said.
Staxa did nothing. Tanya placed the apple on the grass in front of the horse and started to stroke his nose. ‘Come on, Staxy,’ she said. ‘Cheer up, old boy. Eat the nice apple and tell us about yourself. I’m sure Rachel and Gazza can turn you back into a human in the end.’
Staxa suddenly looked interested. He pricked up his ears and looked at Rachel. ‘Atta boy,’ said Tanya. ‘Ask Rachel a question, go on. It’s not that hard.’
The horse made a sudden lunge at the apple, picked it up in its mouth and chomped it with savage violence. Bits of apple and juice went spraying all over the place. Tanya jumped back a metre. ‘Cool it!’
‘Whoa there, boy, whoa there,’ Rachel said. ‘You’ll grind your teeth to nubbins. Remember you’re meant to be a dentist. You’ve got to set an example.’ Then she turned to Tanya and said: ‘Stick the spoon in his mouth — this poor beast needs the solace of understanding friends. Come on Luis, get it off your chest, fella.’
Holding the wooden spoon by the very tip of its handle, Tanya pushed the broad end towards Staxa’s slobbering mouth. The horse lunged at the spoon. Tanya jumped backwards and almost landed on the picnic. But Staxa had got his teeth clamped on t
he wood. He approached the laptop with the spoon sticking out of his mouth like a flamingo’s beak. He began tapping wildly on the keyboard.
‘Take it nice and steady, Luis,’ said Rachel.
‘Don’t give him any subliminal signals,’ said Tanya. ‘That was the trouble with Clever Hans: subliminal signals.’
‘Hush, darling,’ said Mrs Chandor from where she was lying in the sun with her head on the little fella’s lap. ‘Let the poor horse do it his own way.’
Mrs Chandor and Easter remained lying on the grass. The rest of us gathered round the horse and looked at the laptop’s screen.
GETT ME OUYT OFF HEERE
‘Spelling’s a bit ropey,’ said Rachel. ‘Take it slower.’
GET ME OUT OF HERE NOW the horse wrote.
‘Out of where?’ Rachel said. ‘You’re not “in” anywhere.’
OUT OF THE HORSE
‘You’re not in the horse, Luis. You are the horse.’
YOUR FAULT YOU BITCHJ
‘It’s all right, Luis. I can understand your anger,’ said Rachel. ‘I feel your pain.’
YOU BITCH BITCH DAMNED DOUB LE CROSSSING FIEND FROM HEELL LOATH YOU GUTS YOU SWIKNE
‘Swikne?’ said Tanya. ‘What’s swikne, for godsake?’
‘I think he means swine,’ said Gazza.
SWINE SWINE PIG SHOULD NEVVER BIN BORN##** CURSE THE DAYY
‘Go, Luis,’ said Rachel with encouragement. ‘Let it all hang out, boy. Say whatever you want. I can take it. I’m woman enough for the job.’
SHUTTUP YOU * SHUT UP NOW.
‘Sure, Luis,’ said Rachel quietly, ‘I won’t say another word.’
YOU KILLED BLUEEY NOW YOUF KILLLED ME
‘That’s not true,’ said Gazza.
‘Hush, Gazz,’ Rachel whispered. ‘Let him have his say.’
VILE PIG DOG FROG WOMAN YOU WITCH YOU THINK YOU GET A WAY WITH THIS *** I TELL YOU YOU GETT YOUR COMEUP PENCE@@@@ YOU TOOO GAZZA
The horse went on for about ten minutes, tapping at the laptop like a demented woodpecker. He pounded the keys. He cursed the lot of us. Mainly he cursed Rachel, but me and Gazza and Alex came in for our fair share. He was a horse from hell, juddering the wooden spoon up and down like a jackhammer. It was a toss-up which would break first: the spoon or the laptop.
The spoon broke first. Staxa spat out the remains and stood back from the laptop, breathing heavily. You’d have thought he’d just won a race.
‘Good work,’ said Rachel. ‘There’s nothing like a bit of honesty in human relationships. And ours is a human relationship, Luis, despite you being a horse. I respect your position. We all do. Even if we can’t share it.’
Staxa looked around, searching the picnic site.
‘It’s all right, Stax mate, we’ll get you another spoon in a minute,’ Rachel said. ‘But just listen to me, now, eh?’
The horse glowered, but there was nothing it could do.
Rachel said, ‘Now the first point is that we’ve done nothing to you that you weren’t planning to do to poor Spud. The second point is that if we hadn’t put you in the horse you’d have been dead as mutton. You got very badly mangled. The third point is that your old, smashed up, mangled body is waiting for you in one of the cryonics cylinders. At the moment it’s completely useless, kaput, but when they get all this nano-technology down pat, you can have your body back. Good as new. The fourth point is that your, er … rehabilitation is going to cost money. Heaps. So you’ve got to cooperate with Alex and Easter and clean up big with this Elmbank Cup caper. Got it?’
The horse didn’t make a move. Just looked balefully at Rachel.
‘Good,’ said Rachel. ‘Now let’s all have a really nice picnic. Luis, you can have any delicacy you like, as long as it’s vegetarian. Your tummy isn’t up to meat. And we’ll even pour a bottle or two of wine down your throat. That’ll be a thrill.’
Rachel sat down and started to shell a prawn.
Gazza sat beside her and she leant against him, closing her eyes to the sun and munching the prawn.
By late afternoon everyone had eaten and drunk and dozed in the sun and we were all feeling happy and content. Well, I certainly was. Staxa had been fed lettuce and cucumber sandwiches and had had a bottle of champagne and a bottle of reisling poured down his throat. The fizzy champagne might have been a mistake, because he began belching and burping. Alex walked over to him and gave his stomach a good thump with his fist — rather like a motorist might kick the tyres of a car.
‘Aw, leave him be, Alex,’ Rachel had murmured from where she was lying on her back with her eyes closed. ‘Horses do that, you know. They’re windy beasts at the best of times.’
Staxa Fun had wandered off and started eating grass.
Mrs Chandor said to Easter, ‘Okay, Buster, show us your stuff.’
‘What stuff?’
‘The stuff you can do on the horse. Put it through its paces.’
‘I think Luis might be shy,’ Alex said. ‘He’s a bit self-conscious about performing in front of people.’
‘He’ll have to perform in front of thousands when he hits the track.’
‘Yeah, that’s right,’ said Rachel. ‘We’ve got to desensitize him slowly. We’ll give him a small audience now, just so he can get used to the idea.’ She turned to me and Tanya: ‘You two, go and get the tack. Easter can take him for a canter.’
‘What’s the tack?’ Tanya said.
‘The saddle and the reins and the bit,’ said Alex. ‘It’s in that shed over there.’
Chapter Fourteen
The tack shed was a pleasant sort of place. It was only made of rusty old galvanized iron and bits of bush timber, but the sun shone in through a window covered in cobwebs and through the open door. There was a saddle resting on a wooden frame, some reins and other harness hanging from hooks on the wall. At the other end of the shed was a pile of hay and a few sacks of oats. You could hear bees droning on outside somewhere. Tanya sat on the saddle. Neither of us felt like returning to the picnic immediately.
‘Gee, that horse is off its rocker,’ Tanya said. ‘It’s a total fruitcake.’
‘It’s just angry,’ I said. ‘I hope it doesn’t make life too hard for Easter. It could easily throw the little twerp off and stomp him to death.’
‘Do you like Easter?’ Tanya said.
‘I don’t mind the guy,’ I said.
‘My mum thinks he’s cute.’
‘I think your mum thinks he’s a bit more than cute,’ I said. ‘I reckon she’s stuck on the dude.’
‘Trouble is, she’s got a real bad track record with men,’ Tanya said. ‘She’s had some turkeys. You should’ve met my dad.’
‘You might end up with Easter for a dad,’ I said.
Tanya giggled. ‘Gee, I can pat the little fella on the head. He’d be more like a baby brother.’
‘How would you feel about it?’ I said. ‘Say he moved in with you.’
‘Could be worse,’ Tanya said. ‘It’s nice just having Mum to myself. But she’s actually easier to live with when she’s got some guy hanging around. Even if the bloke isn’t in the house. You know, she’s less frustrated.’
‘Yeah, they’re like that,’ I said. ‘Adults.’
‘Well, you’d know,’ Tanya said. ‘You being one.’
‘I’m not an adult,’ I said. ‘I’m fifteen.’
‘That joke’s getting a bit stale, Scalp. You can’t get prematurely aged by falling off a bike. You’re just some old guy who’s hopelessly immature.’
‘No. Straight up,’ I said. ‘My brain is only fifteen. Rachel and Gazza stuffed my brain into this body. The same as they stuffed Luis into the horse.’
‘True fact?’
‘True fact,’ I said.
‘Well, if I hadn’t seen them do it with the horse, I’d never have believed it.’
‘But you have seen them do it with the horse,’ I said.
‘So I believe it,’ said Tanya and put her arms round me.
&
nbsp; We both collapsed on the hay. For a while we were real friendly. Really getting to know one another. We lay around in the straw and kissed and I told Tanya about the days when I’d just been a normal kid with a passion for BMX bikes. I told her a bit about my life after Rachel and Gazza had shanghaied me out of the hospital and into Snood’s Laboratories. Then we just kissed some more. Tanya stopped kissing me and giggled. ‘Gee, Scalp, I’m glad they didn’t stuff you into a horse,’ she said. ‘I reckon smooching with a horse would be a bit off. Really gross.’
‘Where’s the tack?’ said Alex from the door.
We both looked up. The defrocked vet was standing there looking annoyed. ‘You were meant to be fetching the tack, not rolling around in the hay.’
‘Young love,’ I said. ‘It knows no bounds.’
‘Just get the gear and bring it out to the horse,’ he said. ‘The animal’s getting restless.’
Tanya and I stood up and brushed ourselves down. As we were collecting the saddle and the other bits and pieces, she said, ‘It’s funny how we all talk about Luis as “the animal”. And half the time we call him it.’
‘It’s a bit hard not to,’ I said. ‘He looks like a horse. He is a horse.’
‘Maybe we should try and be a bit kinder to him,’ Tanya said. ‘Make sure he knows we still consider him a human being.’
‘Maybe we should,’ I said. ‘But the truth is we don’t really consider him a human being, do we? We consider him a horse.’
‘Let’s try and consider him a sort of human horse,’ Tanya said.
You could tell that Luis the human horse didn’t much like being saddled up. He snorted and curled his lip and wasn’t too cooperative.
‘Come on, Luis,’ said the little guy. ‘We can’t win races with me riding you bareback. Stand still.’
When Easter and Alex had finally got Staxa Fun saddled and up and running, he wasn’t half bad. As far as I could tell, he was bloody marvellous. When it comes to jumps, I’m more a BMX man myself, but I can recognize excellence in others. Staxa soared, he flew, he had air.
In the paddock next to the one we had been picnicking in, there was a rough course marked out. It had various obstacles for the horse to jump over: poles, walls, brush fences, puddles, a dam for it to wade through, a bit of gully erosion.