When I did chores in the stable, Charlie hopped from beam to beam above me and said, Hello, Hello! One of my racehorses then was a nice big horse called Three Tabs, over sixteen hands tall. Charlie liked to dive down and nail the horse’s huge ears.

Then Charlie’s wings grew out a little and one day he took off. Johnny called and called. Charlie, Charlie! Nothing. No Charlie. On the second day we were getting worried about Charlie.

There was a big tree behind the barn, not far from the shed row. That afternoon, the tree was full of crows. Johnny ran up to the tree and shouted, Charlie, Charlie! The birds took off in a flock — except one. Hello! Hello! said the bird. Come here, Charlie! Johnny said. He had to clip Charlie’s wings again after that.

THE BIG DRINK

His name was Mick but we called him Humpty Dumpty. He was from Louisiana. When he went home for Christmas he’d bring back a bag of chicory coffee for me. He had a fat bald head, a big middle, little short legs. He was funny and jolly. He’d put his hands on his hips and cock his belly out and say silly stuff to make us laugh. He looked like a clown but he was a great horseman.

One night in January, a bunch of us went to a bar. We were working at a track in Michigan. After we finished our food, Mick said, I’m gonna go start the old gal up, and he went out to defrost his truck. He left it running while he settled his tab. But when he went out again to leave, the truck was gone. Next day, police found it wrecked in the river. Mick said, She took the big drink!

A few weeks later, after watering off for the night, I was driving from the track back to the room I’d rented in town. In Michigan it was so cold the water buckets froze — you had to hammer them out four, five times a day. I had a little topper on my truck and when the weather was warm I’d sleep back there. A mile down the road, someone knocked on the window behind my head. I almost crashed. I thought it was a man who wanted to murder me but it was Mick playing a trick.

WHERE’S THORBY?

A lot of my friends have gotten killed. A lot of them have steel rods down their spines. One guy lost his leg. He was a jockey who’d lost his leg, but he’d still gallop horses and pony them to the gate. Sometimes his fake leg would fall off when he was riding and someone had to run out and pick it up for him.