Pt. 10 A friendship maybe lost. But what does Stormy think?
Tom had been working with Julie to learn more about her gelding and show him properly, and the girls intereest in the horse increased each day because of it. Tom had a way of making it more a pleasure than a choree for the girl. Jake didn't know when it had been arranged but was glad for it. The older man seemed to be becoming less a loner and more friendly with folks, Jake noticed. Though Jake trucked the horse, for example, Tom insisted on going to every show and mingling with all the people there. Ann seemed to be warming to him too. However, between the shows and work, Jake hadn't been able to talk more to the cowboy about Stormy and his experiences with Lilly. Or maybe he hasdn't because it still scared him what he was, and how he felt about the horse. Stormy was showing too at these events, easily winning in the adult categories and seeming to enjoy it. There were things she wasn't enjoying now though...
Jake had built a canvas wall on the shelter, retractable during the day, for privacy at night. It seemed it made Stormy nervous though. She whinnied the first time he'd pulled it closed, pacing the shelter and not letting him near her easy. He took her to it and let her smell during the day, and started pulling it slow at night, closing it bit by bit. She let him touch her all over with it open, but shied away with it closed. The more he tried, the more it became difficult even open though. She cow-kicked him one night when he tried to massage her teats, and it had been days since she'd let him even wash beneath her tail. "Have I been wrong about her?" he wondered, and grew depressed.
Stormy paced outside her shelter in the days heat. The shelter smelled funny with the new wall, and went un-used. Her Jake was gone, and she sweated heavily, but the pipe at the bottom hurt her leg the first day and even though he'd shown her to step over it scared her when he wasn't here, and when he was and he closed it she felt trapped. And the noise! The wind caught the canvas and rattled the rings on the pipe, but the horse only knew the noise, and when it was closed at night, it was so much worse!
He always closed it when he wanted to give her those funny touches, she thought. She liked the touches before, but now all she could think was the wall, and the way it scared her, and the touches were scaring her too. Didn't he know this? He'd seemed to know her so well before. But now, as the days went by, he seemed different too. He was rougher with her in the early lights now, turning her out, and he had stopped the cool baths in the middle of the day when she was hottest. He didn't even come home now until late in the dark! Three days ago, he hadn't even cleaned her stall! She loved him, still, but he scared her now and she didn't want him near her sometimes.
Jake had gotten drunk last night, trying to drown his sorrows and confusion. He was a quiet but miserable drunk, and was thrown out of the bar for trying to start a fight. He went home and continued on a bottle in his house. He woke the next day with a big head, late, and rushed to get dressed. When he went out the door, stumbling, he found Stormy in her pasture whinnying for him. He had left her out all night, he realized, with no food or fresh water! "Damnit!" he thought, then cursed himself out loud. Stormy whinnied again as he ran back into the house! He quickly called the Thouroughbred farm, as Stormy kept up her scoldings, and asked for his boss. He'd never missed a day, but he would miss one now! He'd been neglecting her, he decided, and she needed a day with him!
His boss had sounded suprised at first, then a bit mad, as Jake lied about being sick but he took the boys excuse for what it was worth and wished him better feelings tommorrow. Jake thought about him cleaning the stalls himself as he walked back out the door, and chuckled, "He'll be complaining all day!" STormy was still talking, and he watched her pacing back and forth along the near fence. She was filthy, he thought. He'd really been letting her go!
Ann walked up the drive as he was entering the shelter. "You O.K.?" she inquired, "You don't seem yourself lately." "Yeah, I'm alright," he lied, "Just been a little busy the past few day." "It's been longer than a few days Jake," scolded the woman, "and you cursed at Julie yesterday. I can't have that." Jake hesitated, trying to remember it. When it came, he realised it was even over something stupid that he'd normally have just showed the girl the right way, and he felt ashamed. "I'm really sorry Ann. It won't happen again" he promised. Ann took his apology, and noticing how the stall was full of leavings and urine, "If you ever need to talk Jake, I'm just next door, and if you need some-one to take care of Stormy some days, we will. I'm home all the time you know." "Thanks Ann." Jake looked disgustedly at the stall, "I shouldn't have let things get this bad."
Tom scolded him too, later that night. He'd spent the whole day trying to make it right with Stormy, cleaning her and her stall, talking long to her while he scratched her chest and tried to win her trust back. He even, on a whim, took down the cavas wall reflected on it's selfish purpose as he worked. "I only put it up ta hide us during sex," he mumbled, "wishful thinking anyway, and kinda ignoring her." Again he felt ashamed, but he was warmed when Stormy came over and nuzzled his shoulder once it was gone. He walked her into the shelter, and she stepped nervously where the pipe had been, head lowered and smelling the ground. Tom pulled in about the time he was feeding Stormy for the night, and he went out the side door to meet him.
"What the hell's the matter with you, boy?" Sharp, with no hello, "I heard about yer fun last night! Tryin' ta pick a fight with a trucker, fer Christs sake!" "Hullo Tom." The younger man was meek. "Hallo yerself! Answer me!" The cowboy was red in the face. "I dunno Tom! What is wrong with me?" the boy countered, "I got women who want me, an' all I can think of is fuckin' my horse!" Loud, too damned loud the older man thought, and "Lets us get in the house, son, before yer neighbors hear." "I ain't yer son Tom!" As soon as he said it, he regretted it. Tom looked at him, shocked for a second, then turned around and got in his truck. He wasn't the boys father, no, but for some reason that hurt. He put the truck in gear and drove away, Jake calling, "Wait Tom! I'm sorry!" to unhearing ears.
Jake stood in his driveway shaking with fear and tears. No, Tom wasn't his father, but he was the closest thing to one he'd known. He walked to the house, hanging his head. He lifted it as he went in the door, realizing what else he'd shouted, and slammed the door! That's why Tom said to get in the house, trying to protect him. Worse yet though, was that really all he thought of Stormy, he wondered now, just another fuck to have no matter what she thought? "And Stormy," he said to no-one there, "What does Stormy think?"
to be continued...
To be honest, this plot twist came unexpected for me, and it took some time until I managed to accommodate to the dark side of Jake’s personality you introduced so abruptly. Indeed, one of the key ingredients to a good novel or short story is a protagonist the readers can identify with and until this part, I began to feel immersed in the fictional environment you created. Number 10, in turn, has shattered this illusion, leaving me as speechless as Tom when confronted with Jake’s outrageous and reckless behavior especially towards the one he loves. Nevertheless, I can reassure you that I still enjoyed the read, looking forward to what is going to happen in the next parts. After all, it is up to you, the author, to lead the way, to take decisions, to develop your story in whatever direction you intend to take. Your readers are nothing but passengers on this ride, and it would be disrespectful to make a final judgement about your story as long as you haven’t written its final sentence. In order to add some constructive feedback to my critique, I’d like to point out that your description of the internal conflict that Jake faces has further sensitized me to the cultural dimension of zoophilia. In fact, I haven’t been aware of how strongly emotions like shame or a feeling of guilt are linked to this matter for somebody who has been raised in an environment where some form of „macho culture“ prevails. Coming from a more liberal background than your protagonist, I could hardly imagine that the process of discovering his deviant sexual orientation could have such a devastating effect on a man’s self esteem and masculine identity.
We all have our dark side, though most prefer not to admit it, including Jake when in the booze heavily for the first time. I choose not to ignore, but to explore that as a necessary part of the story. It does not mean that this is a permanent part of him, nor that he is less as a zoophile. I too have had my demons, and have reformed.
I feel, as the story continues, the reader will understand both Jake and the struggle zoo's faced before the diverse and near immediate support system available today via the online community by seeing this.
I am glad, however, that your journey has been less in shame or guilt than Jakes, or my own, and thus less bumpy. I am also glad that you'll keep reading.