Flash Fiction April 15,2018

Today's story...

Story Prompt: Write a story about a common laborer who finds a horse wandering around a futuristic city.

The sun was low in the smoggy sky, turning everything a kind of sickly, burnt sienna shade. Half-dead ginkgo trees made a halfhearted effort to shade the sidewalks and clean the air. It was a wasted effort. Industrial barons had very little concern for the sorry wastes of skin that lived on the planet’s surface, and thus, planting trees, made no difference in the air quality. They simply produced more pollution when they could get away with it.

Mac wasn’t thinking about any of this, however, as he stumbled along the road towards home. All he was thinking of was a hot shower, a good meal, and a reasonably soft bed. His wife and children would be home, but after a twelve hour shift, he had very little energy for play or idle chatter. They understood this, even if they didn’t like it.

His name wasn’t really Mac, but it was what everyone called him. In fact, he doubted if more than five people in the entire world knew his legal name. And he didn’t really care. Shoving a tuft of grizzled brown hair out of his eyes with his burly hand, he wiped sweat off of his brow with his hat, then jamming it back on his head. Summer was the worst. Except for winter, when the workshops were something more akin to giant freezers. Every year they lost more and more laborers to the weather. The Bosses didn’t care; if one man fell, there were always others eager to fill their boots.

In his exhaustion, Mac didn’t notice the horse until he had walked right into it. He nearly fell backward, but his six-foot-six frame was solid enough, he was able to shrug off the blow. He looked up, his chocolate brown eyes staring in utter disbelief and confusion. Where had the horse come from? They were in the middle of the city! Come to think of it, he hadn’t seen a horse outside of a zoo in almost twenty years.

He wasn’t sure what kind of horse it was, but he could tell it wasn’t your average cart horse. He guessed its height to be somewhere around eighteen hands, its coat and mane black as night. It had a saddle, so he guessed the rider had to be around here somewhere… but as he looked, he could see no one but himself on the street.

Reaching out slowly, he took hold of the reins and gingerly patted the creature on the neck. “Where did you come from, big fella?” he asked. “And where is your rider? This ain’t a place for a critter like you.”

The horse whickered softly. In its eyes, he could see intelligence and a certain gentleness that seemed out of place on such a powerful animal. He looked around again, frowning. “Hey… this belong to anyone?”

There was no answer, except for a gust of sour, smog-laden wind blowing dust and litter up the street. He shrugged and looked back at the horse, debating what to do. The Animal Control authority had closed half an hour ago, and he couldn’t very well just leave the horse where it was. Making up his mind, he wrapped the reins firmly around one hand, and gently tugged. Obediently, the horse followed in his wake, trailing him toward his home.

In the twenty years he had been working in the metal shops, he had managed to earn enough money to buy an actual house. It was small and spare, but it had a real yard. It was the size of a postage stamp, but there was grass, a few flowers, and a tree. Best of all, it was fully fenced. It would do for tonight, he supposed. He couldn’t help a tired grin as he considered the possibility of keeping the horse around as a lawn mower. He hadn’t gotten around to cutting the grass in weeks, so the grazing of the big animal would save him the trouble.

He unlocked the gate and swung it open, leading the horse around the house to the yard in the back. He wasn’t quite sure how to tie the animal up with the short reins, and still allow it to move around, so he found a length of rope and tethered it at a comfortable distance from the tree. He found a bucket and scrubbed it out, filling it with water and setting it out. The horse immediately dunked its muzzle, guzzling nearly all of the water in one go. With the dry, hot air, he figured the poor thing had to be half dead of thirst.

He filled the bucket again, then patted the horse on the neck. “I suppose I’ll just let you be, then. In the morning, we’ll call Animal Control and have them come and pick you up. I expect your owner will be looking for you soon enough.”

The horse seemed to glance at him, but of course, it did not answer. It was a horse, after all. Feeling a bit ridiculous, he turned and went into the house.

His wife had been watching from the kitchen window. As soon as he entered, she was in front of him, wrapping her arms around his neck and kissing him lightly. “Mac, I know Lacey has been begging for a pony, but really? A stallion? How on earth are we supposed to keep an animal like that?”

He laughed. “Honey, I found him wandering on the street. I couldn’t just leave him out there; with his dark coat, he’s gonna get himself run over by some idiot. I’ll call Animal Control first thing and have them pick him up.”

She nodded and sighed. “Well, you get to tell Lacey, then. She’s already on the Net, telling all of her friends that her daddy bought her a horse.”

He rolled his eyes. “Great. I get to the be the bad guy again.” He found himself wishing he had never seen the animal at all.

Despite how tired he was, Mac found himself unable to fall asleep. He was wondering about the horse. It was unusual enough to see a horse wandering around the city, but this one obviously had a rider. Where was he? Or she, he amended hastily. He hoped they hadn’t gotten hurt, or mugged. Muggings were uncommon these days, with the government cameras on every inch of every street, but they still happened from time to time.

Giving up, he slipped out of bed and went to the window, looking outside. The horse was there, its legs tucked under it as it tried to sleep in the summer heat. He realized that he hadn’t removed the saddle, but he really didn’t know how, and he didn’t want to risk being accused of theft. The poor thing had to be very uncomfortable…

His thought screeched to a halt as he spotted a shadow slipping along one fence. His eyes narrowed. It might be the rider… or it could be a thief. Guns had been outlawed a long time ago, but he still had a nice big aluminum bat from his days on the high school baseball team, and he had a hefty swing. He pulled on his pants and a shirt, slipped his feet into boots, and hurried to the back door.

By this time, the shadow was right across from the horse. The creature had come to its feet, looking at the intruder, and whickered again. Mac came out the back door and hurried over to it, brandishing the bat at the shadow. “Show yourself!”

There was no answer for a long minute. The shadow stood frozen against the fence. As Mac looked closer, he realized that they were standing on one foot, and seemed to be swaying a bit.

“Excuse me,” came a tenor voice, with a strange accent. A man, most likely. “But that’s my horse there.”

Mac took a step forward. “Oh yeah? You got proof?”
“Nothing that would convince any of the authorities around here. But I assure you, he’s mine.”

Mac laughed softly. “Right. And I’m supposed to just believe you?”

“Release him, and I’ll call him.”

Mac was still uncertain, but he really didn’t want to have to put up with the animal. If the authorities were slow in coming to pick it up, he would be late for work, and he really didn’t want to risk annoying his boss. He couldn’t afford to lose his job.

Reaching over, he untied the rope and removed it from the reins. The shadowy figure limped a few feet closer, then whistled softly. The horse responded immediately, walking over and letting him grasp the reins.

Mac nodded slowly, lowering the bat. “Okay, he seems to know you. But what are you doing around here with a horse? Who are you, anyway?”

There was a pause, then the other man sighed. “That is a very long and unbelievable story, and I don’t wish to waste your time. However, if you could--”

He broke off with a grunt, stumbling and going down on one knee. Throwing caution to the wind, Mac hurried over and dropped down beside him, looking closely in the darkness.

It was hard to see anything, but the man looked younger, with thick, black hair, a very thin, pale face, and a slender build. What Mac noticed more than that was the blood. On his face, on his white shirt, and spattered on his light-colored pants.

“What happened to you?” he demanded. “We should call the police!”

“No!” the man nearly shouted, grimacing. “Please… the last thing I want is to cause you trouble, but I cannot involve the police. There is more at stake here than you know. If you could just… help me onto my horse… I’ll be on my way.”

Mac shook his head firmly. “Not a chance,” he insisted.

Where this is going... the rider is an inventor who invented the concept of time travel.  Unfortunately, he ended up stuck in the 19th century, and in his desperation to get back home, he has accidentally destabilized time and Mac's era is at risk of collapsing, along with all other times except the one in which the time-travel device was invented. For some unknown reason, the inventor cannot get back to that exact time to stop himself from doing all of this, and in his travels, he was attacked by bandits in the 19th century and badly wounded. He randomly jumped to Mac's time and location to escape them and passed out, falling off of his horse. He still has a few ideas how to solve all of this, but he is too weak to act alone, and he cannot wait to heal.  He needs help, and Mac reluctantly allows himself to get roped into the mess.