Running Wild

some ground rules.”
Ri nodded, almost eagerly, though he continued to back away. “I promise you, we’ll talk.”
“ Ri .”
He was jogging off towards the line of trees in the distance, as if he had important things to do.
Gawd, Seamus didn’t know what to make of this man, and what attraction lay between them was ebbing away under this erratic behavior. It was a shame.
Once Ri disappeared from sight, Seamus looked up into the big sky, particularly blue this hot prairie afternoon. “Zachariah? I’d like to know exactly how I am supposed to help your grandson. Because I don’t have a fucking clue. You haven’t given me any tips from beyond the grave. I won’t leave him in the lurch, I promise, but I can barely make contact with him. And he freaks out at any visitors.”
He stopped talking out loud, feeling silly. Then he went inside to clean up, trying to come up with explanations for Ri’s actions. Seamus had thought he was on the run, but that felt off. Perhaps Ri had some kind of personality disorder, but how the hell was he taking such good care of himself? Seamus needed to find out where Ri lived. He owed it to Zachariah, if nothing else.
As he washed up the dishes, he decided to get his focus off people and back on the farm chores. He needed the well water tested, since buying all his drinking water was more expensive than he liked and might not be necessary.
Before he could look up phone numbers in the out-of-date yellow pages, a whinny came from the backyard. Of all things, the horse had returned. After its spectacular departure earlier, Seamus hadn’t expected it back any time soon.
The black beauty used to visit every few weeks or so, in Zachariah’s time, and now it arrived twice in one day? Seamus walked out to greet the creature. This was the visitor he was most comfortable with. He supposed he should be cautious though, given its sudden aggression in Pete’s presence.
“Hello there, Black.” Seamus observed it for signs of it suddenly rearing back, but it seemed its usual calm self.
It whickered in greeting, its coat carrying a light sheen in the heat of the afternoon sun. It trotted closer to nuzzle Seamus, and he relaxed. Then it turned, as if it wanted Seamus to mount it a second time in one day.
“Hey, I already had a ride. I think that’s more than enough.” He patted it, but when he stepped away, the horse moved once more into position.
“Horse, I need to come up with a name for you beyond Black Beauty. Who was a poor cab horse in the city, by the way, nothing like your fate, wild one. Thing is, I shouldn’t ride you now. I have chores to do, errands to run, if I want to make a go of this farm.” But Seamus wondered if he needed to try to tame it, if it needed a home. Zachariah had always been against such a plan, had sworn Seamus to silence about the horse’s very existence… With that Seamus felt a pang of guilt for having let Pete see the horse, though that visit had not been expected or welcomed.
Black whickered encouragingly and shifted when Seamus shifted, all of which Seamus found rather endearing. The horse wanted his attention. Horses were social creatures. In the wild they ran together. Though maybe not stallions. Didn’t they fight each other off quite aggressively or something like that?
He leaned his forehead against Black’s shoulder. “What the hell. Let me try to tame you. Though I’m not sure who’s training who here. Anyway a short ride, okay? Or I’m going to end up being the most irresponsible farmer ever, always procrastinating, and I’ll have to sell this place for sure. Then who will you visit?”
Black blew out, still waiting.
Feeling like an old pro this time, Seamus hefted himself up onto that strong back and settled. As soon as he got himself into position, the horse moved forward and broke into a canter.
“Whoa.” Seamus grabbed the mane, readjusted himself so he wasn’t leaning backwards and held on as the horse picked up speed and ran, really ran. Galloped. It was a smooth ride, Seamus had to grant it that.
He enjoyed the first while, despite the surprising speed. But as he lost track of where he was, he began to worry. It reminded him of that night, when he’d first ridden Black. But this was day. Different situation. No thugs on the road either, just Pete and Ri at the farm, and chores awaiting him.
“All right,” he shouted into the wind, trying to communicate. The horse picked up more speed.
He tugged on the mane, and it went