The Georges and the Jewels Read Free Page A

spoke the name of the Lord in an idle fashion, but sometimes he came close.
    I turned and ran up the hill.
    He said, “Is that a foal?”
    “It is, Daddy. It’s so big and pretty.”
    We stood there for a minute, and Daddy said, “Well, I’ll be—” And then, “It’s always one trial or another.”
    “Should we bring them in?”
    “And put her where? Those stalls aren’t clean enough for a foal. They’re better off out here.”
    “But it’s cold.”
    “Well, she should have thought of that before foaling out, don’t you think?”
    I looked at him. We were walking up the hill, almost to the gate by now.
    “Mares can wait, you know, not like humans. You ask your mom about it. I’ve heard of mares going three hundred eighty days, just because the weather’s no good.” With every word he said, I sensed him getting less and less happy.
    I said, “It’s so cute, Daddy. It doesn’t have a speck of white on it. It’s got a pretty head.”
    “What can I do with a foal? What can I do with a mare who has a foal? Can’t wean it for five months, then it’ll take another two months or so to get her in shape. That’s seven months of burning hay before we can even begin to sell her. That’s probably why they sold her to us in the first place—they knew she was in foal and they didn’t want to deal with it. Woke up one morning and one of the stallions was out with the mares, or something like that, so they crossed their fingers behind their back and threw her in with the others just to get rid of her.”
    Mom was at the door. “What? What is it? Is everyone okay?”
    “Got a foal is all,” said Daddy as he went past her into the kitchen.
    “A foal!” She put her hands on my shoulders. “Do they look okay?”
    I said, “It looks great, Mom!”
    “Should we call the vet?”
    Daddy said, “First, we’ll call the Lord. The Lord will decide.”
    I kind of did not like that, because in my experience, the Lord didn’t always decide as I would have.
    Daddy said, “Abby can help me outside. She’s already missed the school bus.”
    Mom looked at the clock and said, “Well, she has.”
    That was the second good thing to happen that day, and it was only seven a.m.
    We had some toast and went back out. The first thing we had to do was clean the biggest stall and put all new straw in, and lots of it. I was happy to think that the Jewel and her foal would be able to snuggle down into the bedding and staywarm. Then we took a halter down to where the mare was. We approached her carefully, but she was friendly, just the way she had been before she foaled. After I put the halter on her, Daddy stood looking at the baby. It was now full day, and even I could see that he was a colt, and a nice one—strong, with a well-set neck and an alert look about him. He wasn’t crowding against the mare, either—he already had a mind of his own (“Not a good sign,” said Daddy).
    The colt would turn away from the mare and stare out over the crick or up the hill, then leap into the air and kick out or trot around in a little circle, and she would nicker at him, but not sounding as though she was worried. More of an “I’m here” than a “Watch out!” In the end, we didn’t try to touch him, we just walked the mare slowly up the hill, letting her stop and call him anytime she wanted to. He came along, but not without jumping and frolicking. I couldn’t stand the idea that we might name him George, but Daddy was strict about the names because he said I already got too attached to some of them. If he let me name them, then I would pine for them after they were gone. So I didn’t say anything.
    When we got to the top of the hill, Daddy held the other mare so that she wouldn’t try anything, and we went through the gate. The Georges were all eyes and ears, too. Every one of the horses was whinnying.
    The hardest thing was getting the colt into the stall. The way we did that was, I held open the stall door as wide as it