"Luke, you once said that my horse ‘Red’ was my best
friend and only companion in my early years. You were right, thank you for all
that you have done for me." ~Chet Duke
"My Best Friend"
By: Chet Duke. Dedicated to Luke Duke & Sarah Stodola.
"Alllll right Chet Duke! Pull it on over! I mean....
khee... ooo....git. Stop! Just stop!" Sheriff Rosco P. Coltrane hollered
into the cone shaped megaphone.
The young Duke astride the galloping Thoroughbred horse
didn’t slow down though, he glanced over his shoulder at the police car and
veered off into a big field. Frustrated Rosco followed, bottoming out his
patrol car and tearing through the waist high hay. The tall reddish colored
horse galloped mightily through the field, ears laid back in a all business
sort of way. The big animal could understand his masters need to escape and
found great pleasure in pleasing the young renegade Duke.
Grass flew over the hood of the
Rosco angrily got out of his car and stood in the open door
watching as the outlaw horse and rider disappeared. There was no way of
catching them now, it would be impossible to drive his car into the woods and
it was impossible to catch the lightening quick horse on foot. The stolen goods
were lost forever to a no good low down Duke. It was not a good day to be Boss
or Sheriff of
"I’m sorry little fat buddy, I tried the best I can, it
just ain’t no use. Git... Chet Duke’s a career criminal. But I’ll git him...
I’ll git him." The Sheriff placed his hat back on and got into his car and
drove back to town.
Chet and his horse galloped until they felt a safe distance
away, deep in the heart of the thick forest. Grinning widely in pride and
pleasure of a job well done Chet lowered the reins and rubbed his horse
rewardingly on the neck.
"Wahoo, we did it boy! That was a nice piece of running
Hoss!" The red horse perked his ears and bobbed his head in reply to his
master, nickering as he picked his way through the forest. "Back to the
hide out Red, we gotta see what kinda goods we got this go round." The horse
paused and turned its head to sniff at the burlap sack hanging from the side of
the saddle, packed tightly with stolen goods.
*****
It was nearing dark when Chet rode into the dusty streets of
the abandoned ghost town, known to all the locals as the "
Chet dismounted his horse at the half broken down hitching
rail in front of the Hotel and removed the saddle from Red’s back. The horse
poked his muzzle at the sack of goods as Chet laid his saddle down on the board
walk. He chuckled watching the horse nip at the bag eagerly.
"You ol’ slick, your smarter then a red tail. You know
theres something in there for you, there always is." Chet spoke aloud to
his horse and stroked the animals thick and strong neck.
Red nickered and nudged Chet against his chest with his
broad head and nipped at the bag again hurrying his master on.
"Ok, ok don’t get your tail in a not." Red nipped
his sleeve then flicking his ears in a playful manner. Chet laughed and ruffled
up the geldings long mane.
He pressed his saddle back and untethered the sake from it
and opened the bag. His horse continued to nudge him knowing darn well there
was a treat somewhere in that bag. Chet dug into the bag and produced a large
and thick, rich orange carrot. Quickly and gently he removed the bridle from
his companions head, relieving the horse from the bit. Before he could even get
the bridle out of the way the eager horse gobbled up the big carrot, munching
it down and chewing it.
Chet chuckled and scratched his horse between the ears and
continued rummaging through the bag, taking a look at all the other items he
managed to steal from market. Mostly objects that would serve as dinner or pay
for his and his horses meal the next day.
Once he was pleased with everything he evaluated in the sack
he pressed it aside and made his way to the old livery stable down the street.
Red followed knowing he’d get a scoop of sweet feed for dinner then be free to
graze on lush meadow grass for the rest of the evening. A good days work was
always rewarded by Chet with a healthy feeding, a rub down, possibly a few
treats and all the freedom he could get.
****
Morning came with the birds chirping and the sun shining
brightly into the room of the ancient Hotel in the
Chet yawned and stretched, rubbing his mismatched eyes he
glanced around the room a moment. Allowing himself time to arise from his sleep
he eventually made his way down stairs to the small kitchen to make some coffee
as he did every morning. Then it was on to the old livery to feed his horse
some breakfast and maybe ride into town to see if Cooter
He grabbed a few dollars from the stack of stolen goods and
made his way down to the old stables with his coffee still in hand. Usually the
gelding waited for him behind the barn in the shade, Chet’s brow creased in
concern as he didn’t see his companion at the back of the barn. His cup of
coffee was quickly discarded and he began calling the horse.
It wasn’t like Red to wander off, he always stayed near to
the little abandoned town and had for the last two years. Chet whistled and
called for his horse.
"RED! Come boy! Red where are ya! REEEED!!!" He
whistled again, but there was still no sign of the gelding.
Chet looked around be coming more frantic now, something had
to be wrong. He began looking around the old town, doing his best to look
around and peek into every building. Anywhere the big horse could have wiggled
its way into. But there was no trace of him, no trampled grass or hoof prints
in the red Georgian dirt. Nothing...
Feeling lost, alone and with his heart racing in his chest
Chet set out on foot with only his lariat in hand. Walking back through the
woods on the same deer run trail that he and his horse had ridden in on the
night before. But all of the hoof prints faced the same direction and were cold
and wind torn from the evening.
"RED! RED!" He whistled more, his dark eyes
searching thoroughly.
The sun was getting higher in the sky by the time he walked
back to the empty town, not owning a car that ran yet he had relied on his
horse for his means of transportation almost always. Quickly he grabbed some
more cash from the loot sack and set out for town to ask around and see if
anyone had seen his companion.
First he knocked on the doors of all the surrounding farm
houses. Each farmer or there family leerily replied with a quick no and closed
the door on him. Most of the locals knew him as a cold hearted outlaw and many
feared him. He was the tainted son of Bo Duke ruined by a cruel child hood,
none of them wanted anything to do with him and most would cross the street to
avoid having to meet those near black mismatched eyes.
But even the scared faces of the Hazzard farmers and
neighbors couldn’t slow Chet’s search for his companion. He just had to find
that horse. Soon he found himself wandering into down town Hazzard and stepping
onto the concrete side walk as he neared the square. His first stop of course
would be at Cooters garage, one of the few people he often confided in.
Chet entered the open bay where of course Cooter was ducked
under the hood of a car, grease covering nearly every square inch of the
mechanic. His arms elbow deep in the half torn apart guts of the cars engine.
"Cooter?" Chet asked as he approached the car.
"Yeah?" Cooter looked up, then smiled.
"G’morning Chet."
"Cooter! Have you seen Red? My horse, have you seen my
horse?" Chet couldn’t help but let his voice betray him, laced with fear
for his steeds well fair.
Cooter
"No Chet I haven’t seen him. How longs he been
missing?"
"I don’t know, I got up this morning and went out to
feed him and he wasn’t there. He wasn’t anywhere he usually is."
Cooter could hear the fear in the young Duke’s voice, it
wasn’t something the hardened cowboy usually let on. He placed his greasy hand
on Chet’s shoulder and squeezed it firmly.
"Relax, I’ll give a holler on my CB for everyone I know
to keep a look out for him and have them call me should they spot him
anywhere."
Chet nodded and swallowed. "Thank Cooter." He left
the garage and ventured across the square to the café.
At the café’ he asked everyone he could, even the waitress to see if she had
heard anything about a loose horse. They all gave the same negative reply and
Chet found himself back out on the side walk asking every soul in sight.
As he passed the small bakery on the corner of the avenue he
spotted his cousin Daisy Duke coming out of small dress shop. Quickly Chet
jogged to catch up with her and then slowed as he came to her side.
"Daisy?.... Daisy I gotta ask ya something!" Chet
said gently grabbing her arm.
She whirled around to face him and her face lit up in fear.
Daisy Duke backed away from Chet clutching her shopping bag.
"Chet! Please... don’t hurt me... let go.
Please..." She pleaded him, fear heavily striking her aged but still
gorgeous face.
Chet quickly let go and raised his hands chest high in a
surrendering manner. He backed up a few steps and removed his hat running his
fingers through his messy short black hair.
"Daisy... I wont hurt you. I just need to ask you
something." His face creased and he pleaded with her. "Just listen to
me..." Chet frowned. " Please."
Daisy Dukes lovely face mildly lightened as the younger
outlaw Duke pleaded to her, she’d never known him to say please. And the look
on his face made her relax a little, he looked... he looked scared she thought
silently to herself.
"Okay... what is it Chet?" She asked nervously
watching him.
He lowered his hands and sighed. "Have you seen my
horse Daisy? You know the reddish.... chestnut colored one, the Thoroughbred I
always ride all over."
She half rolled her eyes and shook her head. "No I
haven’t seen your horse or any horses except farmer Brawns." Daisy raised
her brow alittle. "Is that it? Thats all you wanted to ask me?" She
looked astonished that Chet, a hardened criminal was seemingly frantic over a
horse.
Chet nodded and sighed hanging his head. He placed his hat
back on and turned to walk away. "Yes... I’m....sorry." Frowning he
walked away leaving her alone as he knew she wished he would.
He made his way back to the garage and sat down on the stool
near the bench. Chet rested his elbows on his knees and put his face in his
hands. Cooter glanced over his shoulder having seen Chet walk behind him as he
came in.
"Sorry cowboy... no one on the net has seen ol’ Red
either. But don’t give up, he’ll turn up." Cooter said confidently.
Chet only nodded, feeling so alone and empty with out Red.
He looked up at Cooter and sighed heavily. "Can I barrow a car or your toe
truck Cooter?"
The mechanic nodded. "Sure, I still have the Buick out
back. It might crank for you, keys are in it."
Chet nodded and took a deep breath as he started back out
into the world. As instructed he went around back of the garage and found the
old Buick sitting there. It was the car he’d arrived in town driving, the old
vehicle was right down wore out and badly rusted. But with a little luck it
would take him around town and back again, and hopefully help him find Red.
He got in and as luck would have it the car started up on
its fourth crank and Chet slammed the old rusted door and pulled out from
behind the garage. He paused at the curb wondering where to go first, possibly
Red had gone to seek other horses. So maybe if he asked people who had horses
he might find his own.
With his mind made up and a few small horse farms in mind he
drove out of town and made his way down the back roads of Hazzard. His first
stop was a farm that bred and raised draft horses for farm work, the ornery old
farmer nearly shot Chet’s hat off with a shot gun. His next stop was alittle
safer but just as uneventful, the farmer hadn’t seen hide nor’ hair of the
Thoroughbred.
Getting even more worried and desperate Chet found himself
driving out to his parents farm, he didn’t know what he’d do when he got there.
Nervously Chet lit a cigarette and smoked as he drove to his parents newer farm
house. As he pulled down into the drive way he slowed with hesitance and looked
around the farm yard. Glancing into the Dukes pastures to see if that familiar
fiery red horse stood out there, but he did not see any horse that resembled
his own.
He parked next to the General Lee and got out of his car
just as his father, Bo Duke stepped out onto the porch. The elder man had heard
the sound of tires on dirt through the open kitchen window paused for a moment,
the screen door in hand, before he let it click shut and his shoulders set with
a quiet sigh. He took a step forward... then another, and rested his hands on
the porch railing, his dark blue eyes narrowed with distrust and perhaps a few
degrees cooler as they rested on Chet. Angry. He was silent.
Chet watched as his father stood at the railing, his own dark eyes
glanced over the features of the elder blond haired Duke man. Cautiously he
stood by the open drivers door of the beat up old Buick and gazed a moment. He
took a deep breath summoning the natural grit furrowing his brow at the older
man as he moved forward and stood by the fender.
"Knock off the nasty look old man..." Chet sneered, it
would be too harsh to say he hated his father, but he strongly disliked him.
"Im here on business only."
Bo's left eyebrow twitched up at the use of the words "Old
man" but he let it pass for the moment. "And what business is
that?" he asked, settling his side against one of the posts that held the
porch roof, his arms folding over his chest.
"My horse is missing, the chestnut Thoroughbred I ride all
the time. I awoke this morning and he was gone. I'd hoped maybe he’d gone off
to seek other horses, but none of the surrounding farmers have seen him. Have
you?" Chet asked, his _expression staying cool and his voice strong and insensitive.
He leaned against the front of the car having no intention of
moving forward near the porch that his father stood on. His mismatched eyes
portrayed his alertness and his own distrust between the two men.
Chet had an uncanny way of bringing trouble on his heels, whether
or not he caused it intentionally - though Bo often wondered if it was all
intentional... part of some scheme to lash back at him for things that had held
both men grieving for years. What had been his guilt had festered into anger in
the younger man. And what sooner place to look for his horse but to think that
his father stole it from him. He understood now. Bo's lips tightened, the
severity of that _expression hiding the flicker of pain that passed behind his
dark blue eyes. "I ain't got him if that's what you're askin'. He'd have
to reason to come over here."
The young cowboy watched as the older Dukes eyes iced over in
assumption. Chet could read the words in Bo's eyes, after all he was his father
by blood and even through there disdain for each other they were strongly
connected. Chet grumbled and rolled his eyes in annoyance.
"I didn't say he was! Damnit! Listen to me you stubborn old
man! " Chet's anger rose and his eyes flashed in a lethal warning at Bo.
"I asked if he was here! I didn't say anything about you taken him or
steelin’ him. You couldn't if you tried!"
Bo's jaw tightened, his cheek twitching with the effort to quell
the indignation and anger flickering in the dark blue gaze, and the flicker of
inward pain. He closed his fists... flexed his fingers, released the tension in
his hand, and then, finally, let out a sigh. "Fine. I ain't seen your
horse. If I had I'dve called you," he said simply.
"Now it wasn’t hard to give me simple strait answer was
it!" Chet snapped quickly. The lethal look in his eyes and _expression on
his face slowly dwindled down to a simmer once again.
Slowly the ever hard appearance on his face melted into that of
worry, Red was the only thing that meant anything in his life. And he was lost,
out of sight and there seemed to be no trace of the horse at all. Chet’s face
creased into worry and he lowered his eyes, not wanting his father to see the
concern and worry written plainly there.
"Then don't act like I did somethin' wrong! For all your
fightin' ya coulda learned at least to say 'please!'." Bo's shoulders
slumped with the last words, and lips tightened together into a pained line as
he made a slight turn away, still not quite willing to take his eyes off the
young man. Still... He was silent for a long moment, then his chin lifted...
then he glanced back, noting the shift in Chet's manner.
Chet raised his eyes again and glared back at his father, but the
usual fierce fight in his dark eyes was barely a raising of his hackles. The
coldness was defeated strongly by his worry, any other day he would have stood
and shouted back at his father. But with his worry for Red on his mind he only
pressed his lips and slowly turned away towards the drivers door of his car.
For the first time, he’d let it go, there was no room for a fight with his
steed missing.
The blond elder Duke closed his eyes and breathed out another sigh
of frustration, burying his face briefly in his hand. Then he looked out, and
shook his head, taking the last steps off the porch and away from the house
toward the car, knowing full well that a switch of gears and twitch of the foot
and the car could crush him under its wheels... but he took the chance, leaning
into the driver's side window. "Listen.. Chet..."
Bo glanced down and back. "I'll keep the word out on the CB.
Maybe somebody will've seen him."
The young Duke looked up from sitting in the drivers seat,
startled to see his father looming over him suddenly. His chest heaved a deep
breath and he relaxed, though his eyes reflected caution as always and his back
sat strait in the seat in alertness. He blinked his mismatched eyes and the
pressure on his pressed lips lightened. Chet couldn’t help but be surprised
that his father would also keep the word out on the CB.
With a nod he replied in a softer, appreciative voice.
"Thanks....Cooter’s doing the same." He gazed at his father a long
moment then put the key into the ignition and the car rumbled to life. Chet
sighed deeply, somewhere deep inside he fought back the longing to be with his
kin. But his stubborn outlaw pride wouldn’t let go of his past or his present
for that matter.
Bo Duke shook his head as he watched the dust fly, and
breathed a prayer. He wanted so desperately to reach out a hand, even if the
gap between them seemed so far but... it was so dang hard to keep reaching when
his every olive branch was tread upon. "God, help him.."
Chet drove away from the Duke farm and headed to Luke’s
place. Luke Duke lived in the old farm house where he, Daisy and Bo had been
raised under the tender eye of there uncle Jesse Duke. Chet snorted, some good
the old man had done them, Bo had still not saved him from his terrible
childhood. It was his fault that he was and outlaw.
Chet drove out to the rickety old farm house where Luke
lived, but there was no car in the drive. Which probably indicated that the
older Duke man was not there. He parked his car near the barn and got out, he
thoroughly looked around as he had done at his parents place.
Cautiously he mingled towards the corral of horses that
belonged to Luke Duke, his mismatched half blind eyes looked over each horse in
the pasture. But again Red was not among the fine animals that Luke owned. Chet
glanced around and made his way timidly into the barn to see if Red had by
chance been caught and put in one of Luke's stall.
From the entrance the barn appeared empty, just inside was a
few staked hay bales for that days feeding and a few buckets. Chet looked into
the first stall and then the next, his trained ears keeping full alert and his
senses on high caution. But as he had expected, each stall was empty, all the
horses were out to graze and his was not one of them.
With a heavy sigh he started out of the barn and just as he
came to the first stall the hair on the back of his neck prickled and a pulse
of warning went down his spine. Suddenly a bale of hay dropped right in front
of him and he was lightly showered with dust and strands of loose hay. Chet
stepped back and looked up.
From above appeared the displeased, dark blue eyes of Luke
Duke glaring at him. Luke pushed another bale of hay over the side and it
landed beside the one before it. This time Chet saw the bale coming and stepped
back further out of the way . He glared back, his own dark eyes set in anger as
he looked up at his uncle.
"HEY!" Chet snapped at Luke and the older Duke
furrowed his strong brow in suspicion.
"What in the hell are you doing here?!" Luke fired
back.
Luke Duke mounted the latter up into the hay loft and
climbed down swiftly with haste until his aged boots touched the dirt floor and
he turned to face Chet. Chet stepped back placing his right hand behind his
back and resting his palm against the .45 caliber pistol that bulged at the
back of his belt, tucked in under his sky blue wrangler shirt.
He knew what Luke was capable of, he’d heard the stories of
him being a veteran of the war in Vietnam and many a bar room brawls had proved
he was more then capable of holding his own. His unforgiving blue eyes bore at
the young renegade Duke. He watched Chet like a hawk and his hearty jaw line
tightened and creased with age as the cowboys hand went behind his back. Luke
bared his teeth in a grudging manner, daring the young Duke to draw the gun on
him if he had the guts.
Chet took a breath and pressed back the urge to fight the
challenge behind his uncles eyes. He'd read it many times before, like looking
at letters in black and white on the yellowed pages of a book. Luke was one
person among his father who showed no fear but strength against him, and they
met him at every turn to try and kick him back where they thought he belonged.
"Dun start with me Luke.... I know what this looks like
but your wrong." Chet said looking into the older Dukes eyes, trying his damndest
to make him see the truth. "My horse is missing, I thought maybe he'd come
up this way to be with your horses. Hoped maybe you'd stalled him somehow in
your barn."
Luke listened and watched Chet's _expression and the look in
his own eyes, somehow he could see and understand that the young Duke cowboy
was telling the truth. He shook his head in reply, he'd not seen any loose
horses.
"Your Thoroughbred ..." Luke shook his head again.
"I haven’t seen him and I didn't see him on my way into town this morning.
Sorry."
Chet couldn't help but let his shoulders sag, his hands
relaxing to his sides and his face creasing into defeat. Luke's place had been
his last hope, he'd all but searched every farm and barn in Hazzard County,
every field and pasture with no luck. Wordlessly he nodded is head and let his
head hang, lowering his worried eyes from the older Dukes.
The only thing that meant anything to him in his life was
missing, and seemed to be no where in sight. He'd searched everywhere with out
a trace of his friend, his companion...what now. What now... Chet thought to
himself as he slowly and seemingly dragging his feet walked out of Luke's barn.
With his shoulders slumped he took his hat off and fanned himself with it
against the heat of the mid afternoon.
Luke watched him, his eyes widening slightly in surprise.
Was he seeing things, were his aged eyes playing tricks on him. Or had he just
witnessed the looked of defeat, the look of fear and the _expression of a
broken heart in the hardened young outlaw. Luke blinked his eyes and swallowed
moistening his lips as his eyes still watched Chet walking away. The usually
strait and determined tenseness in the cowboys now slumped back was gone, if
he'd been a canteen of water he felt he could have heard the echo of emptiness
in Chet.
Luke started forward now, feeling somewhat guilty for
swinging the broom handle at Chet, the boy was just looking for his horse. But
still he'd been trespassing, Luke sighed and called out to Chet before he could
get into his car.
"Chet?"
Chet looked up just as he was about to get into the drivers
seat and replied in a low, drawn out voice. "Yeah?"
Luke moistened his lips again not exactly sure what to say.
"Where can I get a hold of you, if I see your horse?"
"Leave a message with Cooter and I'll contact ya, I'm
check in with him every hour or so." He sat paused before sitting down in
the drivers seat.
"Alright." The older Duke nodded and leaned his
back against the siding door at the front of th old barn.
"Thanks..." Chet replied and swallowed as he got
in the Buick and drove away.
"Sure..." Luke nodded and watched him go.
The dark blue eyes watched until the rear of the once navy
blue Buick disappeared. Luke shook his head, he could hardly believe what he
had seen in the younger Dukes eyes, never before had he. Chet was so hardened,
things usually didn’t seem to phase him, his respect and value of life was so
much less then most people. But only moments ago Luke had witnessed the
expressiveness on Chet’s face that spelt so clearly feelings that he had never
displayed before. The young man had genuinely looked scared and frantic over
the disappearance of his horse. Not a human being, but a horse.
Chet drove away getting back on the main road until he felt
he was far enough away from the Duke farm to feel he was free of those dark
blue eyes. He pulled over and just sat there in the car, his heart bled and his
eyes burned as if he were going to cry. It had been many years since he’d
allowed himself to cry. No matter the pain or misery he suffered he’d faced it
head on and taken the blows like a man, even if he hadn’t been.
But now as he sat there in that empty old car, he couldn’t
hold back the swell of tears in his eyes. A couple heavy droplets escaped and
ran down his cheeks. The one thing in the world that meant the most to him, his
only friend, the only being he ever trusted was gone. Red was not only a horse,
he had proved to be a loyal and faithful friend, he’d saved Chet many times in
life and death situations. Never once did he stop and think as a human would,
never did he let Chet down or stab him in the back the moment he turned around.
That horse had given himself to Chet and Chet had done the same in return.
The young man wiped his eyes and started the car again, a
determined _expression returning to his face with a renewed strength. He’d find
Red if it was the last thing he ever did. As he pulled away from the grass he
found himself pondering where to search next, he’d looked in all the obvious places.
"Hmmm..." Chet thought.
He drove to the Boars Nest and parked among other cars in
the parking lot, it appeared to be a busy evening. Chet narrowed his eyes at
the prospect of it being a busy night, inside the Boars Nest people mingled
thickly around the room. There was no better way in Hazzard to catch up on some
gossip then to have a beer at the Boars Nest. Not only Hazzard folk managed to
find there way to watering hole, but so did many people from other counties.
Chet pushed his way in between the men at the bar and a
blond haired waitress brought him a beer immediately. She had never ID’d him,
he looked as old as the other men standing at the bar and she just slid a beer
to him and took his money without a second thought. Chet sipped his drink and
leaned against the bar casually.
He listened closely to all the voices around him, slowly
separating each conversation and picking up on them. Most of the chatter panned
out to be about local farming, what the rains had brought and how the crops
were doing. One group of men appeared to be chicken farmers and were trying to
bargain there way into each others pockets, trading roosters, hens and chicks.
Chet sighed and gulped down his drink, nothing seemed to be
leading him anywhere at the moment, but it was early yet. The sun had just
settled behind the mountains and the sky was beginning to twinkle with bright
stars scattering everywhere. Before he knew it, two hours had rolled by and the
men sitting and standing at the bar had entirely changed shifts. It seemed as
though a new group was moving in as the later evening hours rolled by.
More beer was served to Chet and the new comers on either
side of him, he recognized a pair of farm boys on his right. But two his left
were a trio of strangers who seemed heavily interested in the beer. In a matter
of minutes six or more empty mugs were being replaced by fresh mugs of golden
beer. Chet’s demeanor didn’t change however, he still casually sipped his beer
and turned his ear to listen in on there conversation.
Finally his patience paid off, one of the three heavy
drinkers in the trio snickered to his friend beside him. The beer making him
come out quite louder then hushed, but he didn’t seem to care. Like many men
among him the loud mouth was much bolder with the amount of alcohol in his
system.
"I got me $500.00 to bet on a horse my pals got running
in a race this weekend! And I’ll bet my money against anyones that this horse
can whip the hide off anyone else!" The drunk blurted out and slammed his
fist down on the bar for emphasis.
His friends broke into laughter and another hollered back
with excitement. "Thats a lot of money on a tenderfoot you ain’t never
seen run before Fred! Ya sure that nag’s got everything Jude says he
does?"
"Sure and more! You doubtin me you little weasel?"
The other mans eyes widened and he shook his head.
"Never... just askin. That chestnut seemed awfully skittish and high
strung to even set foot on a track, thats all I meant by it. Sheesh."
The other man grunted and smirked feeling bigger as any
bully would. Chet’s brow flicked, his dark eyebrows raising for a split second
at what he heard. He sipped his drink and continued to listen. Unfortunately
the conversation turned to the money that each of the three men were going to
bet on the wild chestnut race horse that they continued to rave about. The more
he listened the more Chet became sure that the horse was his very own Red.
After nearly forty-five minutes of listening to them rant
and argue about how much they were going to bet on the horse Chet turned to
face them. He cleared his throat and tapped the loud mouth on the shoulder in a
friendly manner.
"Excuse me friend, I couldn’t help but over hear ya’ll
talking about a race. Where’d ya say it was gonna be held? I’d like to lay me
down some bets on this fine animal you speak of." Chet smirked, his dark
eyes laced in a crude vileness.
The drunk man shifted to look at Chet and heavily snorted.
"Go to hell kid, I ain’t tellin you a damned." He bellowed and his
friends broke into mocking laughter.
Chet chuckled along, his _expression turning more cold by
the second. "Thats so nice of you, really I’m lookin to up my losses.
Which track?"
"Have you got cotton in your ears plow boy I said get
lost kid!" The drunk snapped again and shoved Chet back with his hand.
Chet quickly snagged his hand and twisted it around his
back, he brought his knee up hammering the bigger man in the center of his gut.
The big drunk doubled over with a heavy cough and Chet grabbed the back of his
head by the hair and drove his face into the edge of the bar. Chet’s teeth
bared and his eyes blazed with fierce anger as the mans face exploded in a sea
of red.
Unmercifully Chet continued to hold onto the drunks hair as
his knees folded and he dropped to them on the plank floor. The music in the
room came to a squealing stop and the room hushed with the sudden occurrence at
the bar. People standing near or around Chet and the drunk scattered taking
shelter near tables and walls. The blond haired waitress stood behind the bar,
her eyes widened in terror as she stood frozen in her tracks watching the
drunken mans face drip blood onto the floor.
Through his own enraged panting breath hissing between his
teeth Chet tightened his fist around the mans hair causing the him to yelp. His
friends stood a few feet away, looking shocked and dumb struck.
"I’ll ask you again... and your answer may determined
weather you walk out of here... by your own power tonight... or by mine."
Chet’s voice was a lethal snarl as he spoke directly into the bleeding mans
face. "I’ll ask you again... what gawddamned track is this horse running
on?!!"
"CHALKTAW!!! CHALKTAW!! ARGH LET GO!!" The drunk
yelp and whimpered.
"Your sure?" Chet snapped yanking the wounded mans
head back.
"YES! YES!"
With a heavy intake of breath Chet released the bloodied man
and he collapsed to the floor in a heap. The young Dukes eyes glared at the
drunks friends daring them to come forward and try there luck against him. But
not a soul dared, all the locals knew him and wouldn’t chance there luck even
in the name of justice and those who weren’t locals had seen enough to be
intimidated.
Chet left the Boars Nest, the room nearly silent as he
walked out except for a few hushed voices. He got into his car and drove back
to the Sleepy City to pack a travel bag and get the rest of the money he’d
stolen, among supplies he’d need.
******
The next morning found Chet asleep in the back seat of the
Buick parked just off the main road of Chickasaw County. As the sun came up and
birds began chirping loudly Chet stirred from his slumber and began stretching
and yawning. At the intersection of the main road was a list of road signs
indicating what was in each direction.
Chet followed the road signs to the horse track, but it was
still very early in the morning and only a few trainers and horse owners
mingled around. The horse track was smogged over with a heavy misty fog that
seemed to stand over the dirt track like a foreboding shadow. Young horses took
there early morning work outs on the track, there trainers and owners standing
near the railing watching.
Although it was very early Chet got out of his car, leaving
it parked in the lot and approached the railing casually. He leaned against the
railing as if he were only another spectator interested in watching a
particular horses morning work out. His mismatched eyes squinted as he scanned
the track looking for his horse, but not a single animal was big enough, long
enough or fast enough to be his own. He turned to a older grey haired man on
his left also standing at the railing and watching the horses.
"Excuse me, what time is the first race of the
day?"
The older man didn’t even glance at Chet, he looked down at
his wrist watch and replied flatly. "11:30 am is the first race."
Chet nodded and walked away, he had plenty of time. For the
next hour and a half Chet drove into town and got some coffee and breakfast to
hold him over until lunch. Then he mingled back to the track and quickly
acquired a listings booklet of all the horses that were to be entered in that
days races. He took a seat as close to the tracks starting gates as possible
and carefully looked over the book.
His eyes skimmed every horses name in every race. There was
no telling what kind of ridiculous name Red might be racing under, and it would
have to be a lower class race in order for his forged registration papers to
get by. Chewing on the end of his bale point pen Chet circled two names, the
first was the name of a horse in the second race of the day. The name was
obscene and seemed very suspicious, the horses number was 16.
"Q-tip.." Chet mumbled the obscene name to
himself.
Then he turned the page to the fourth race of the day and
read the names. Immediately the name of the horse who would be running in the 8th
shoot caught his eye.
"Big Red..." Chet double circled the name and
underlined it. He was ready to bet his money on the horse being his own.
The day wore on, the first race came and went, it was a
cheap claims race meant to sell off uneventful horses. The second race was also
a lost cause in the search for Red, the poor horse running in number 16 was a
young high strung colt who appeared to simply be poorly named. Chet had sat
watching the horse who appeared to not have been of poor breeding by all means.
Sporting long legs and a long sleek body, barely two years
old and badly frightened by all the noise and other horses. The bay colt loaded
in the shoot and immediately dropped down and back out under the bar, leaving
his rider on the ground in the shoot. The colt was quickly scratched from the
race and led off the track. The race was ran and over with in minutes, as was
the third race.
Chets back straitened with interest after a short
intermission, the fourth race was about to get under way the post parade had
begun. He leaned forward watching the horses as they were led out of the alley
by lead ponies. His breath caught in his throat and his heart hammered against
his chest as his own chestnut gelding was lead from the alley. Chets eyes
widened and he rouse from his seat and strut down the length of the railing to
get closer to the shoots.
He stood by the waist high fencing and watched as the horses
were led around and warmed up. As they came closer a cruel grin curled Chets
lips and his dark eyes narrowed. Red had been his companion since the once
abused Thoroughbred had been stolen by him from a race track much like this one
at the young age of 2 years. It was surprising the jockey was even able to sit
aboard the fiery colored gelding.
At the horses came near the fence Chet let out a two keyed
whistle and called out his horses name. "RED!" Immediately the
gelding flattened his ears back against his neck taking his master voice as a
warning. He reared strait for the sky, yanking the lead from the rider of the
lead ponies grasp while his jockey held on tightly. As Red’s hooves touched
back down on the soft dirt track he lowered his head and arched his withers
springing into a enraged and reckless bucking spree.
The other horses from the track squealed, startled by the
geldings sudden out burst. On Red’s third lunging buck the jockey was knocked
over his shoulder and thrown to the ground. Chet watched waiting for his horse
to be free of hands, then he called to him again with a whistle and familiar voice.
"Come Red!" Chet ran for the railing gate and
quickly unlatched it and swung it open. Obediently and glade to be free of the
jockey Red dashed for the open gate. As he came galloping towards the young
Duke boy, Chet ran from the gate and his horse galloped up beside him for a
split second in time and Chet vaulted onto his back. He grabbed up the racing
reins and turned his horse towards the wide opening field at the back of the
track.
"GET HIM! GET HIM! HE’S STEALING MY HORSE!!" A man
form the track shouted, a few of the lead pony riders passed there reins over
to guards standing on the track and galloped after Chet. The shouting man
grabbed one of the extra lead ponies at the fence and climbed onto the horses
back, followed by other men who worked for him. They all lit out after Chet and
Red who were nearly to the tree line.
Knowing that they were well ahead of the other riders Chet
drew Red to a quick stop just into the cover of the forest. Quickly he
unfastened the small racing saddle from Red’s back and let it drop to the
ground, sliding more comfortably on the geldings bare back. He turned his horse
and rode deeper into the woods until he came into the thick pines, the riders
were gaining on him and Red was showing signs of fatigue from lack of proper
care.
Quickly Chet dismounted and let Red’s reins drop to the
ground, he climbed a tall thickly branched pine tree near his horse and stood
out on a branch protected by the cover of the pine needles. There he patiently
waited, watching as the first of the men on the lead pony rode into the forest
and came into view. Another came right behind and they slowed as they
approached Red who perked his ears and slyly backed away. Each time one of the
men would reach for his reins the gelding would step just out of there reach.
Suddenly Chet dropped down from the branch of the tree
knocking both men from the backs of there horse. He was on his feet in seconds
sending his fists flying, the first man never had the chance to even rise to
his feet before being knocked unconscious by a brutal kick to the head by Chet.
The second man was more fortunate and managed to pound Chet a healthy punch to
the ribs before the Duke boy could throw him down and bloody his face,
pummeling the man into unconsciousness.
As Chet rose, his fists bloody and stepped away from the
unconscious body a brute force from behind him slammed him to the ground. The
man that had stolen Red rammed Chet from behind with the lead pony throwing the
Duke boy down on the ground and stunning him. The frightened lead pony was then
forced forward by its rider, shaking and scared the horse tried to step around
Chet as he withered in attempt to regain his senses. The terror stricken pony
stepped over him then was brutally spurred in its flank and yanked by the mouth
into turning and stepping a hoof down on Chets left leg.
Chet cried out as the horse stepped on him, hearing his
master yelp in pain Red came forward, ears laid back and teeth bared. He struck
out bitting the rider on the leg and nipping the scared pony on the shoulder.
The pony squealed and shied away from the angry Thoroughbred, its rider taken
off guard by the sudden move slide from the saddle and fell to the ground.
Although in terrible pain with his leg Chet pressed himself
to his feet and called his horse back to him. Red came and Chet vaulted onto
his back quickly and cantered the horse away from the man. The angry man that
had stolen Red drew himself to his knees and yanked a gun from his pocket and
recklessly fired at Chet and the escaping gelding.
BANG BANG BANG BANG!!!
The bullets sprayed all around Chet and Red, the well
trained horse lowered its head and continued running. A hot piece of lead
suddenly tore into the back of Chet’s shoulder and he yelled in pain. His hands
released the reins and he wrapped his arms around his horses neck leaning low
over Red’s wither as they galloped over the hill and disappeared.
Red continued to run until he was lathered and huffing in
need of air, his mouth frothed around the bit. Chet sat up on his back, they
were now many miles away from the track and well out of harms way. He slowed
the gelding down to a slow trot, slowly cooling the horse down from its long
run as they passed through a sparse field lined with round bales of hay.
On the edge of the field was a slow running creek, Chet
reined up there and let Red drink thirstily. He slide from his horses back to
tend the bleeding wound in his shoulder with the cool water, tearing his shirt
and using it for bandages. His leg did not seem to be broken but very badly
bruised.
A small rickety abandoned barn in the corner of the field
would serve as there housing for the evening. There they would be safe and well
hidden, the ride back to Hazzard would be long the next day, but it didn’t
matter, Chet had his faithful friend back.
***TWO DAYS LATER***
The sun was setting over the meadow behind the hundred year
old abandoned ghost town known as the Sleep City. The yellow sphere was
settling behind the far away mountains and its last orange rays were decorating
the sky.
A lone cowboy in a black Stetson stood in the tall grass of
the beautiful meadow, accompanied by his horse. Chet stood beside Red stroking
the grazing horses neck fondly as he watched him munch on the lush green grass.
Two days had gone by and the gelding seemed to have recovered from his escape
from the race track, Chet also had begun healing.
He laid his arm over the tall horses back and leaned his
cheek against the animals warm furry back. Chet couldn’t help but feel happy,
his only real friend, his trusted companion and comrade was now back safely at
his side. Through all the pains and hard feelings between him and his family,
all the terror he’d been through returning to Hazzard and learning to live
again. Red was there, like a brother, like kin.
"You’re my only real friend Red..." Chet spoke to
the horse in a soft voice, sliding his arm up Red’s back and slinging it around
his thick neck in a hug. "Were in it for life..." He smiled and
patted his horse on the next.
Chet turned his eyes back up to look back at the setting sun
as he stood beside his horse, his best friend. Standing together as the sun
crept down and settled for the even, bringing on the fresh ness of the evening
air. The waif of a new day to come and new adventures that the cowboy and his
horse would share together, as companions, comrades and most important of all
best friends for life.
Thee End
"Ah. <looking up with a reassuring smile> He just
needs his horse looked after is all. His only real friend I think."....
Luke Duke 4/13/1005
***Note*** Special thanks to Maryanne Stodola and her muse
Bo Robert Duke for helping me along with this story. Thank you.