66 BESS  

jasonabadboy4u 29M
48 posts
6/3/2006 6:13 pm

Last Read:
7/7/2006 7:08 am

66 BESS

66 BESS
John Nicholas raised horses. He had many horses of all
kinds, but his favorite was Bess, a gentle old mare we had
grown up with. He no longer rode her, for all she could do
now was just amble along. Bess spent her days gazing
peacefully in a meadow. That summer, for the fun of it,
John Nicholas went into a fortune-teller's booth. The
fortune-teller studied her cards. "I see danger ahead for
you," she said. "Your favorite horse will cause you to die.
I don't know when, but it will happen. It is on the cards."
John Nicholas laughed. The idea that Bess would cause his
death was nonsense. She was as dangerous as a bowl of soup.
Yet from then on, whenever he saw her, he remembered the
fortune-teller's warning. That fall a farmer from the other
end of the country asked if he could have Bess. He had been
thinking that the old horse would be perfect for his
children to ride. "That's a good idea," John said. "It
would be fun for them, and it would give Bess something to
do." Later John told his wife about it. "Now Bess won't
kill me," he said, and they both laughed. A few months
later, he saw the farmer who had taken her. "How's my
Bess?" he asked. "Oh, she was fine for a while," the farmer
said. "The children loved her. Then she got sick. I had to
shoot her to put her out of her misery. It was a shame."
Despite himself John breathed a sigh of relief. He has
often wondered if in some crazy way, through some strange
accident, Bess would kill him. Now, of course, she could
not. "I'd like to see her," said John. "Just to say good-
bye. She was my favorite." The bones of the dead horse were
in a far corner of the man's farm. John kneeled down and
patted Bess's sun-bleached skull. Just then a rattlesnake,
which had made its home inside the skull, sank its fangs
into John Nicholas's arm and killed him.


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