said.
âThatâs
your
story,â George replied. He motionedwith his head in the direction of the shed. âGo in and tell Tom. Heâll be anxious to hear it.â
Jimmy moved away. âYes, Iâd better,â he said, âbecause heâll be taking care of the Queen this summerââ
âAnd the foal,â George interrupted, laughing. âDonât forget to tell him what to do when the foal comes.â
George watched Jimmy until he had disappeared inside the shed; then he turned to the sun, shining brightly now in a cloudless sky. âSummer,â he said. âGood old summer. What it can do to a man! The sun and the kid. What a combination! Maybe itâs not the end of Jimmy Creech, professional reinsman, after all. Maybe not by a long shot.â And humming, George continued walking Symbol.
T HE F OAL TO C OME
2
Ten days later Tom Messenger stood anxiously at a fork in the road, awaiting the Queen. He had been there for many hours, watching the heavy traffic come over the hill, most of it speeding by to his left on its way to Philadelphia. To his right was the blacktop road which led through rolling fields beyond to the sanctuary of his uncleâs farm, where the Queen would have quiet and peace to bring her foal into the world.
Very often Tom would glance at the clock on the gas station behind him. It was well after three oâclock. If Jimmy had shipped the Queen at dawn, as he had planned to do, the truck should have arrived an hour ago. It would be an open truck, a two-and-a-half ton truck, Jimmy had said. He couldnât miss it, for the Queen would be standing right there for him to see. She would have been on the road nine hours by now. Would it have hurt her any? In her condition, he meant. The Queen was due to foal sometime next week. Jimmy had said the trip wouldnât hurt her. Heâdsaid he had shipped many mares only a few days before they foaled, and it had never bothered them. Tom hoped Jimmy was right. He hoped desperately that Jimmy was right. He didnât want anything to happen to the Queenâor the Queenâs foal to come.
The boyâs eyes remained on the traffic coming over the hill. He wouldnât look at the clock again, he decided. It didnât make any difference how late the Queen got here, just so long as she got here. That it was late was so much the better. It meant that Jimmy had hired a good driver, one who was going slowly, taking it easy for the Queenâs sake.
So thereâs no rush
, Tom thought.
Iâve got all the time in the world. Just take it easy with the Queen, Mr. Driver, and Iâll be here whenever you come
.
While Tom waited patiently, he let himself think of what it would mean to care for the Queen all by himself. There would be just the Queen and himself this week, but maybe next week there would be three. Heâd always dreamed of something like this happening to him. And Jimmy Creech had made it possible.
âI know the Queen will be in good hands, Tom,â Jimmy had said. âI know how much you love her, and thatâs more important than anything else at this point. Just take good care of her, as I know you will, and nature will do the rest.â
Jimmy had made it sound so easy. But then Jimmy had seen a countless number of foals born, while this would be Tomâs first experience. As he thought about it, Tom felt a little queasy. What if something went wrong? Jimmy had said it wouldnât be necessary to get a veterinary unless complications set in. Nine chancesout of ten everything would be all right, Jimmy had said. But then, Tom figured, there was one chance in ten something
would
go wrong, and it was this lone possibility that caused the palms of his hands to sweat while he waited for the Queen.
He saw the open truck as it came over the hill. He made out the Queenâs blanketed body as the truck drew closer. Her haunches faced the front of the truck. Jimmy