No Flight by Stephen A Hollenbeck

Runner Up, Adult Fiction

Arthur emerged from Atlantic Hardware to find a big man whipping a horse harnessed to a wagon and fallen to its knees. Arthur took a pick handle from the barrel in front of the store and walked up behind the man. The big man raised the whip for the next blow and Arthur grabbed his wrist and spun him around. Shocked that someone would interfere, he dropped the whip when he recognized Arthur, who had no flight, only fight and a reputation for not suffering bullies or being a bystander.

“Only a fool whips a dead horse, Benjamin,” he said and pushed him against the wagon. Benjamin gulped and stood frozen. Arthur reached into his vest pocket and removed a five-dollar bill. Benjamin looked down at the horse, nodded and carefully took the note. Arthur dropped the pick handle to the ground.

“Help me get her up,” Arthur told him and the two men un-harnessed the horse and coaxed her to her feet. Arthur gently led the bleeding mare down the street, stopping at the watering trough and to buy her apples on their way to the livery at the edge of town. “John,” he called out to the smithy (who also acted as veterinarian), “what do you think?” 

John walked over and began examining the horse. “Ooh, this is Darlin’,” he said as he took her lead. “Yeah, the Army left her in Tampa when they sailed off to Cuba in ‘98. She’s been in rough shape for quite a while. I’m surprised she’s still with us. Hell, Darlin’ here is nearly thirty, I think.” 

“That brute, Benjamin Glass, certainly hasn’t helped,” Arthur added.

“Well, I have a couple for the glue factory if you want to leave her,” John said.

“No, I think she deserves better than that,” Arthur told him. “Loan me a spade and I’ll drop it back later.”

Arthur led Darlin’ to the beach, he washed the dried blood off her and they walked a while through the tide pools; he fed her apples and told her stories in a soothing voice. He found a secluded place in the grassy dunes, removed his coat and dug a pit, all the while singing and humming to Darlin’. When the time came he stroked her blaze and led her into the pit.

He removed his Colt pistol from the shoulder holster and pulled back the slide to chamber a round; but he couldn’t find the courage to raise it. Darlin’ put her muzzle on his chest and exhaled. Arthur, with tears in his eyes, brushed aside her forelock, raised the pistol and took a deep breath…