Daniel had thought about it and in the end had decided that he wouldn’t turn a hair.
“So what are you saying?” he had asked finally.
“I’m saying you just have to do it gently,” old Pancia had said, and had carried on with his work.
That was why Daniel had never used either nose clippers or any rope or tool to keep a horse still. He would go there and give the animal a couple of slaps, let it smell his smell, give it half a carrot and then try to do the job as gently as possible. Usually by the time he finished whoever was with him would be staring at him, the way children stand and stare for hours at a man carving wooden statuettes.
When Daniel returned, leading the sick mare on a rope, old Pancia was loading a wheelbarrow with fodder.
“What’s that one?” the old man asked, leaning on the shovel, when Daniel and the horses came level with him.
“You have to lend me some money,” Daniel said as he dismounted.
The old man said nothing, did not move, but just looked at Daniel as if he were an idiot.
“I’ll pay you back,” Daniel said when he noticed, taking the tool bags off his horse.
“How?”
This time it was Daniel who looked at the old man as if he were stupid. “By working, Pancia.”
“What do you need it for?”
Daniel gave the mare’s neck a couple of good slaps. “I bought this mare,” he said, with a satisfied smile.
Old Pancia looked for a few seconds at Daniel smiling happily, then at that heap of bones that must once have been a horse, and had to make an effort not to burst out laughing. It was only the respect he had for the boy that stopped him.
Instead, he said, “Are you mad?”
Daniel stopped smiling and grew serious again. “Why?”
“What do you mean, ‘why’? Can’t you see the state she’s in?”
Daniel turned, and looked again at his new purchase and moved a hand over her. “In my opinion, she’s suffering from the same things as that horse your friend cured for us.”
A few months earlier, one of old Pancia’s horses had stopped eating and drinking and had grown visibly thinner. It wasn’t old and seemed to want to die. No one knew what was wrong with it, until one day a friend of the old man’s had turned up with a couple of horses. The old man had taken his friend to see the sick horse. He had walked all round the animal for a few minutes, punching it in the stomach, then he told them to give the horse, by force if need be, a mixture of hot water and some herbs Daniel had never heard of. Within a few days the horse had recovered, but it had been too late to ask the old man’s friend what the animal had been suffering from.
The old man rested the shovel against the wheelbarrow and approached the mare with a serious expression on his face. He moved one hand over her nose and the other up and down her front legs, then slapped her on the neck a couple of times and gave her a few punches in the stomach. Finally, he walked round her and came back to where Daniel was standing, without ever taking his hands and eyes off the animal.
“How much do you need?” old Pancia asked.
Daniel gave a slight smile, without Pancia noticing. “Not much.”
The old man looked him up and down for a moment, impatiently, then looked at the mare again.
“I’ve put something aside,” Daniel said.
“What if it isn’t that?”
“If it isn’t that, I’ll take her to the abattoir before she dies and get my money back.”
The old man was silent for a moment. “And if it is that?”
Daniel smiled. “If it is, I got a good deal.”
The old man smiled, too. “She’s not a bad animal,” he said, giving her another couple of slaps on the back.
“I know,” Daniel said.
The old man turned and gave him a little smack. “Go inside, and put on some water to boil, and get some of those herbs left over from the other time. We’ll see if you got a good deal or not.”
In the end, it turned out that Daniel had been right. For a few days the mare had been force-fed the mixture recommended by old Pancia’s friend, and suddenly had started eating and drinking as if for two. It took several weeks, though, for her to be back on form. Little by little Daniel helped her to put on weight, then got her moving, trotting round the enclosure. Day after day he watched as the mare’s limbs took shape again in front of his eyes.
By day, as he had when he was taming his bay, he would work and run errands and clean the stables to repay old Pancia. Then every evening, when his arms and legs cried out for him to go home and rest, he would go to the stable, take out his purchase and work on her for an hour or two. By the time he got home, he barely had the strength to heat up a piece of meat or a plate of soup, and usually just collapsed on the kitchen table. More than once, his father had to lift him and throw him on the bed fully dressed. It was almost as if Daniel and Natan were no longer his sons, their father thought one evening, coming back to the living room to smoke his pipe by the fire after throwing Daniel on the bed. It was as if those two horses he had bought to keep them out of trouble had carried them off to a place he couldn’t get into any longer.
One evening, old Pancia heard his name being called while his wife was finishing making dinner. Walking outside, the old man saw Daniel galloping his mare in the enclosure in the dim light.
The old man walked to the fence and leant on it. Daniel slowed down and came to a halt in front of him with a big smile on his face.
“What do you think?” Daniel risked asking.
Pancia smiled for a moment. “She’s a fine animal,” he said after a few seconds.
She was indeed a fine animal, finer than either he or the boy had imagined. Even the mare seemed to smile.
“What’s her name?” old Pancia asked.
“First Deal,” Daniel said, pleased with himself.
“First Deal?”
“Yes, First Deal,” Daniel repeated.
The old man thought about it for a few seconds. “Rubbish name,” he said, smiling again and turning to go back to his wife. As he was about to go inside, he turned to look at Daniel again.
“You never told me the name of your bay,” he said.
Daniel had dismounted and was already taking the saddle off First Deal. “His name’s Bay,” Daniel said.
“Ah.” Old Pancia shook his head and went back in to his wife.
NATAN WAS GOING TO THE CITY all the time now. He had found out the way to get through the hills at the far end of the valley and kept going back.
The first time Natan had come back from the city, he had immediately run to wake his brother.
“What is it?” Daniel had muttered.
“Wake up.”
Daniel had turned over in bed and looked at his brother, who was standing there, very still. “What do you want?”
“Wake up.”
“I’m already awake. What’s the matter?”
“I’ve been to town.”
“I know.”
“You know?”
“Shit, Natan, you told me you were planning to go.”
“But I didn’t tell you I was definitely going.”
“It’s late, let me sleep.”
“You don’t know what it’s like.”
Daniel reopened his eyes and looked again at his brother standing there all excited and dirty. Suddenly he understood that his brother wasn’t going away.
“Wait,” he said finally.
Outside, in the meadow next to the farmyard, the two boys lay down and Natan started telling his brother all the things he had seen in the city, all the smells, the people hurrying along the streets, the inns every few metres, everyone shouting and screaming, the thousand sounds and colours and lights that came at you constantly from all sides, the girls of every shape and size, dressed in every possible colour, the shops selling flowers, cakes, tools and everything you could ask for.