Hunting Tale

"Well, I was jest mindin' me own business, walkin along ole Stotter Road and where the gate was there, and almost got run over by horses, a score or more!"

We all looked at Evan, expectant as he doffed his coat and shook the cold from his arms. He was a keen story-teller and a tale from him was always a treat. "Do tell," I answered him, and the crowd around me rumbled agreeably. Evan settled back in his booth and smacked his lips.

"I don't know I can tell you with this dry mouth," he told us, and we groaned.

"Buy your own beer!" Lasky told him, and Evan grinned.

"Write your own tale."

"I'll get it, old man," I told him, and had a mug of hard cider sent to him. Evan raised the mug to his lips; he drained half of it in a series of long and thirsty gulps.

"Jesus, man, why are you drinking like that?" Torley barked out, for Evan's behavior was out of character for him.

"It's this thing what happened to me just now, over Stotter Road! I was back in the pasture, see, where the rocks are, and that old rusty gate--"

"You still keep a bottle down there?" Lasky shouted out, and Evan toasted the laughter with a sip from his glass.

"That's beside the point." A ripple of laughter spread. "You can go find hoofprints," he told Lasky, and the crowd nodded knowingly.

"You can go find leprechaun gold, more likely," I couldn't help but say, and laughter rippled again. "But go on, please."

Evan glared at the crowd, then drained his pint glass. "I'm pretty thirsty, though," he protested. "I think the perpetrator--" and his eyes bored into Lasky's--" "--should be the benefactor of a conciliatory libation..."

And thus Evan dissuaded criticism, and thus time was lost while money was wrung from the skinflint Lasky and more cider was provided. Again Evan drank half his mug, and again he set it on the bar.

"I'm out there, right, and all these dogs go by a-barkin', then horses go by, almost a knockin me down and sprayin mud into me face, and they all go right over the wall. It was a bunch o those ruddy nobles, looked like a hundred of 'em all tearing after this one poor fox. I was hidin', you know, 'cause we all know: you mess with nobles you get hurt." I found myself among the ones murmuring agreement. But then there's this..." Evan trailed off for a moment and got a dazed and somehow supremely happy look. "...this woman," he resumed. "She's got a horse about six times too big for her, and I could tell she could ride for shit, which isn't so bad. But the horse knew it too, she was in trouble. This big horse comes riding up to the fence right where the gate is, where the wall stops? And just stopped. And there's this..." He trailed off, then resumed again, as if he was remembering something important, "this beautiful girl, a hunting girl, on top of this horse with a ridin' crop, she gets down ad starts beatin' him to within an inch of his life." We all had a laugh about the strange ways of the silly nobles. "Well, I was feelin' sorry for the horse by now, and I stepped out of the bushes, thinking, how do I get her attention off beating her horse to death without letting her know I saw her. So, I slip behind a tree, jump over the wall, walk up and open the gate, and said 'good morning, beautiful day innit'. It worked a charm—she took her attention off the horse—and put it square on me." Evan looked off into the distance again. "It took my breath away." Evan was solemn; we waited for the punch line. "She puts her ridin' crop down and looks out to the field, the fox had doubled back and everyone took off after it into the woods. Once they were out of sight she looked at me, and Lord, she looked crazy. You ever see a woman that mad, mister, don't talk to her, just run." He shuddered, and drained the mug of cider. "'You saw me,' she says, I saw you there. Why did you run away and come back?'

"Well, I couldn't say shit." Laughter sounded from behind, maybe McNeal; don't see him in here much anymore. "So she marches up to me and whips that crop right into the side of my leg, and yow! My eyes was tearin'. And she asks me again, and I can't say anything 'cause I can't see, and that crop come down right across my ass." He paused for effect; a low murmur came from the crowd. "I just about screamed, it felt like fire mixed with salt, it was horrible." His eyes shone. "Wanna see?"

The crowd unanimously demurred. He'd been moving very well when he came into the pub and had not winced when he sat.

"So I says to her, 'I just wanted to look at you because you're beautiful'--" Everyone but Evan simultaneously awww'd. "--and then she started to really beat the shit out of me. She kneed me in the balls!" Evan was reproachful; all the pub patrons nodded in sympathy. "So I'm rollin' around on the ground and she puts the crop down and stands over me--" He paused, eyes widening "--with one foot on either side of my head. She had huge spurs, the necks were this big." He demostrated. "I was looking right up her crotch, and she drops her breeches right on my face--"

"Aww rubbish!" Lasky belted out, and there was some agreement among the crowd. "You're full of it."

"That'll be another mug or I stop right here," he said to Lasky. Evan knew he had the crowd hooked.

"I'm not buying!"

The crowd turned on him; they knew Evan meant business and they wanted to hear the rest of the tale. It wasn't their money buying the cider, after all. Lasky reluctantly delivered a mug of cider and the ritual—drain half, sip the rest—was repeated.

"I move the pants aside and look up, and I'm lookin' at heaven." He sighed. "She was a natural redhead, that was easy to tell, and those legs went up so far...and I saw her lookin' down at me lookin' up and she was smilin' and...well, I thought maybe I'd get lucky." He grinned and the a generalized giggle was heard. "But instead, see..." He paused again. We were all hooked. "she takes that damn riding crop, and it's got this knobby bone handle, and she sticks that right inside her. She's right above me, and moving it in and out—I think to myself, that is the strangest thing I've ever seen. But I know I'm a man is all; I climb up on my knees, slidin' my face all the way up the inside of her leg, about ten miles--" He paused. "She grabs me and pulls down my breeches, and stuck the handle of that crop right up into my arse." The crowd gasped; Evan shuddered and took a drink of cider. "She pulled it out and stuck it in again and it made my willy shrivel something fierce--" Again, laughter filled the pub. "--And then she leans up against the wall and spreads herself down below, all sticking it out for me, and I tasted her..." He paused. "She made me hold that crop in my arse 'til she popped. It was hard to get her off, too; I had to take her bit right in between my teeth and like scrape." Most of the pub patrons shuddered. "Now I got her all over my face and she pulls the crop out and throws me on the ground." He took a drink of cider. "She gets on top of me and God it was heaven...she knew how to please a man. She rocked on top of me, and she got another pop, this time she was lookin' right in my eyes and she came, and I feel myself goin' stiff and I know it's time, well she knew too, and--" The pub was silent. "--She got off me and took me into her mouth, and she looked at me, and she was playing with those beautiful tits and I couldn't help it, I spent...in her mouth, and she swallowed it." He paused. "She swallowed me."

Evan shifted and took another drink of cider. "We laid there for a bit, then I start to get nervous, you know, like those hunters were gonna come back and find lowborn me slipping me willy into a girl highborn enough to not have needed to learn to ride a horse. And that would mean me in the hunt in lieu of the fox. I tell her, 'I gotta go', she says 'No, I wanna marry you.' So I panicked. I ran. And she rode off on her horse, and I rolled in here." He drained the glass of cider. "And now, gentlemen, I thank you for the drink and the company, and now I must go."

"Wait," I cried, "how does the story end?"

"End?" Evan asked as if confused. "This is no story. This was real, it happened. And now that I have consumed enough liquid courage, I shall go back to that field and pray to God she comes back." He walked to the door.

I walked with him, of course. To a field full of hoofprints.