The Black Stallion

Yoder, who lived on the lower road.
    "Telephone!" Mrs. Yoder was calling. "Emma or Wilmer is wanted on the phone!"
    His Uncle was saying something about using the Queen to pull a cultivator when Tom turned to him. "Phone!" he shouted, pointing to Mrs. Yoder.
    But his uncle continued talking about what he'd do if he was working the farm again and the Queen belonged to him.
    Aunt Emma appeared in front of the wash hanging in the yard. She'd heard Mrs. Yoder, for she was coming through the back gate.
    Tom watched his aunt as she hurriedly made her way through the pasture's knee-deep grass. When she was parallel with Tom and Uncle Wilmer she turned a withering glance upon her husband. "Good for nothing!" she shouted. "I've got to do everything!"
    Uncle Wilmer moved sheepishly and it wasn't until his wife was some distance away that he regained his composure. "You oughtn't to have taken the shoes off the mare," he told Tom defiantly.
    Tom looked curiously at him. Jimmy Creech had removed the mare's shoes because running around on the soft ground without them was the best thing for her feet. Tom was certain that his uncle realized this, too. Then why did he say the Queen shouldn't be running around shoeless?
    Tom fastened his gaze on the tall, bustling woman who had now joined Mrs. Yoder at the far end of the pasture, and thought he knew the answer. Aunt Emma did a good job of bullying her husband, so Uncle Wilmer, in turn, enjoyed the opportunity of taking it out on someone else—and right now it was Tom Messenger. The boy smiled until he realized his uncle's eyes were upon him, then his lips closed tight.
    They stood there for a while, watching the Queen while she grazed. But Tom noticed that frequently his uncle's gaze would leave the mare for the lower meadow and the path over which Aunt Emma would return.
    "She won't have it fer a month's time," his uncle said. "You better listen to me. You leave that mare out nights. No use to bring her in, usin' good straw to bed her down."
    Not wanting to shout or to argue with his uncle, Tom simply shook his head.
    "She's your mare," Uncle Wilmer said after a few seconds of silence. "You do with her as you like. You oughtn't to be giving her grain now. Grass is good enough for her. Grain costs money. Grass don't. You oughtn't—"
    His uncle had stopped talking with the reappearance of Aunt Emma in the lower meadow. Tom watched her as she came toward them, her long legs moving effortlessly over the ground. She was still a good distance away when she shouted, "Tillie's sick again. She wants us for the night."
    The man turned to Tom. "What she say?" he asked.
    "Aunt Tillie is sick. She says you're going into town for the night."
    His uncle lowered his eyes. "Tillie's always sick when she wants company. That's the way Tillie is, all right."
    Tom nodded sympathetically. He had met Aunt Tillie once. It had been three years ago, the last time he had spent the summer here at the farm. Aunt Tillie had taken sick then, too, and they had gone in for the night. He had watched Aunt Tillie and Aunt Emma play rummy until he had fallen asleep on the couch. Aunt Tillie was old and unmarried, and every few months she wanted company. When she did, she got sick and called Aunt Emma.
    His aunt stood before them now. "We're going in right away," she said. "You two get ready."
    She was moving past them when Tom said, "I'd better stay here, Aunt Emma. I've got to watch the mare."
    "Your aunt Tillie's sick," Aunt Emma said with finality. "You come."
    "I can't do anything for Aunt Tillie," the boy returned quietly. "I might be able to do something for the Queen. Surely you understand, Aunt Emma."
    "Wilmer told you the mare won't foal for a long time yet," she said.
    "But I think she will," Tom returned slowly. He couldn't have said anything else. He swept a glance at his uncle, but the man's eyes were turned away.
    "We'll be back the first thing in the morning," his aunt was saying, "My land, Tom, you can be away from your mare that long when your aunt Tillie is sick."
    "I couldn't… I've got to stay here. Please, Aunt Emma, you just have to understand." But then he added diplomatically, "I'll feed the chickens and the pigs, too. You won't have anything to worry about back here then."
    Their eyes met and it was several seconds before the woman spoke again. "You get ready," she bellowed to Uncle Wilmer. "If some people think more of horses than they do of their own kin—" She moved away from them.
    The