Rudy
Dear Kevin: Where did I leave offin my last letter? Oh yeah. In that huge Iowa meadow, with no houses or roads around for miles and the police balloon rising above my head. “Good riddance,” I whispered to myself, glad to see them go. But Ike said through the bullhorn from a hundred feet up: “What’s that you said, sport?” “Good afternoon, officers, is what I said. And have a very pleasant journey back to New York.” “We’ve got ourselves a real wise guy down there,” Ike said to his partner through the bullhorn, and they sailed back to the ground. I was already set for a nap, typewriter case under my head as a pillow and some writing paper under and on top of me as sheets. I jumped up and ran in the direction where the sun was setting, which I knew was west and where California must lie about 1,500 miles from here. The balloon landed and the policemen climbed out and chased me. I saw a horse grazing in a field, but no ordinary horse. This one only had three legs. The front leg was in the middle of its body instead of at one of its sides. Sort of like the front wheel of a tricycle, with the two rear wheels where they should normally be. But if the front leg was on either of its two sides, this horse would have toppled over, instead of staying perfectly balanced as it did. So maybe this is the way a horse should normally have its legs, and all those other horses with four legs on their sides are the ones that aren’t built right.
I leaped on the horse’s back and said “Giddy-up.” The horse didn’t move. Maybe out West they say “Giddy-yup,” so I said “Giddy-yup” to the horse. And then “Giddy-yap” and “Giddy-ap” and “Giddy-ep” and “Giddy-ip,” but none of these commands worked either.
The policemen were about fifty feet from me now. I had to get a move on quick, so I said “Come on, horse, let’s get a move on. Then a move in. A move an? Move un? Just a move? A moo? A mov? A mo?”
That struck home. The horse lifted its head and looked at me.
“Mo?” I said.
“Neigh,” the horse said.
“Not Mo?”
“Neigh neigh.”
“Then just plain Mo? Is that your name?”
“Yeigh yeigh.”
“Well, let’s get a move on, Just Plain Mo.”
He stretched his neck to get at some fresh grass. He had that kind of sickly look that people get when they eat something that doesn’t agree with them, which I can understand would happen with people when they eat grass. But I didn’t want to be kicking his sour belly and making him more upset and then angry with me. Finally he burped, said “Ahhh,” as if that was all he needed, and started running as fast as a racehorse and without any coaxing from me. Only he was running backwards to New York, which was the opposite direction I wanted to go, but at the right speed.
He galloped backwards past the policemen and rode this way for ten minutes, when he stopped at a stream to drink.
“Great ride,” I said. “Now if you can just turn around and face your rear end to the west and your front to the east and run the same way, I might be able to get some place on you.”
He wouldn’t turn, so I got off and pushed him around to where his rear faced west and where he could now run backwards all he liked. I got back on and said “Okay, Just Plain Mo, up-giddy. Then yup-giddy. Then ap-giddy. Ep-giddy? Ip-giddy?” Sour belly or not, I wasn’t waiting for those police to catch up with me, so I gave Just Plain Mo a kick. He started to run. Only now he ran in the direction where his head pointed: the right way for a horse to run and at the same racehorse speed, but still towards New York. “Whoa, Just Plain Mo,” I said. But he galloped forwards for another ten minutes and then stopped at a stream to cool his legs and drink. I got off and turned him around to face west again and pointed. “See where I’m pointing? There’s a boy out there I want to see badly, so that’s the direction I want you to go. Now you can have your choice of which way you want to run. You want to go frontwards, then do so all you want. Or you want to run backwards, then I’ll turn your rear around so it faces California, and you can run that way for as long as you want. But whether you run rearwards or headwards it’s got to be westwards, understandwards?” I got back on him and said “Okay, Just Plain Mo. Giddy-up or up-giddy, but get your giggy going, you hear?” He galloped backwards to the east for a few minutes, then stopped in a field to munch grass. I knew I’d never get him to go west no matter which way I pointed him. And I didn’t want to go farther east on him, and what other two main directions are there but north and south. So I decided to point his head north or south and let him run whichever way he wanted — backwards or forwards, I didn’t much care. When he felt like stopping, since I could never get him to stop, I’d look for a different type horse that runs where you tell it to and always forward. Or if I could find one, a three-legged horse who only runs west.
I pulled Just Plain Mo around to where his head faced north. And he pulled his rear around to where it pointed south. Then I climbed up on him and said “
still wouldn’t move. I thought maybe I’d been too rough on him with my kicking and harsh words, and what he’d like more is some neck-petting and a song. So I sang very softly into his ear as I petted him: “I know a little filly in Kalamazoo “who rides a spotted missy I’ll introduce you to. “This missy’s got three legs also
“and a fourth for class “and her own grazing ground “with the greenest-tasting grass. “And a stream that runs like water “and a yellow mane and scarlet bow “and she’s hankering for a mixed-up stallion “so get a move on, Just Plain Mo.” He trotted off sideways, but still to the east. When he got himself up to a gallop, he was able to run as fast sideways as he was forwards and back. After his usual five-to-ten-minute run, he stopped for water and grass and then lay down to sleep. What I’ll do when he wakes up, I thought, is get on him and stay with him while he runs whichever way he wants: backwards, forwards or sideways, but always east. Past Indiana and Ohio and all the other states I ballooned over, till he reaches New York. Then across the Atlantic and Europe and Russia and China and the Pacific Ocean till he reaches California, where I’ll get off and let him complete his round-the-world trip by himself. But that would take so long that you’d probably have moved so many times by then that I’d never know where to find you. Instead, I typed this letter. When I’m done with it, I’ll tie it around Just Plain Mo’s neck. On the letter’s envelope I’ve already written “To whom it may concern. If you see this horse running past a mailbox or eating, drinking or sleeping by one, please creep up on him, remove this envelope and drop it in the mailbox. Thanks loads.” Well, I still hope to see you one day, Kev, though don’t go betting your coin collection on my reaching California soon.
Rudy
Dear Kevin: The next thing I’m going to write about might seem unbelievable to you. Maybe it never did happen and only took place in my dreams. But I’ve got the bruises from falling to prove it happened. Though maybe these bruises won’t be there when I wake up, if I’m also only writing this letter in my dreams. No, I’m positive what happened to me really did. Butlet me write about it before I forget it. Because if I write about it after I forget it, there won’t be anything to write about. If I don’t write this letter and we later really meet and you tell me you received it, it would probably mean you got this letter in your dreams. If you actually show me this letter and swear you didn’t write it, it could mean that someone else dreamed up what happened to me and sent you a letter about it and signed my name. One way or the other, you’d at least have received a letter telling what happened to me. Which would be a lot more than you’d receive from me if I forgot everything I wanted to write you because I took too long discussing whether it happened in or out of my dreams. First off, after writing you that last letter about Just Plain Mo, I fell asleep with my head resting on his belly and woke up in a cave. Some light came in through a small slit in the ceiling. All I could see through the slit was sky. I wondered how I got in the cave, as it was sealed. Just Plain Mo? He would have had to put me on his back and carry me in here while I was asleep, and I don’t remember that. I looked around for a way out of the cave and found nothing. Not even a hole big enough for the mouse I heard scurrying around. One answer how I got here was that I sleepwalked in. Then, still sleepwalking, or sleepsealing, I sealed the cave’s opening I’d come through and woke up. As for the mouse, if it didn’t come in with me, I suppose it just sleepscurried in here and then sealed up its own little hole. The only way out then might be to fall asleep and sleepwalk to where I sealed the cave. Then I could push away the stone or whatever it was I used to seal the opening, and still sleepwalking, slip out of the cave and wake up. So I fell asleep. When I awoke I was in a room with a table and chair. A plate of steaming spaghetti was on the table with a jar of grated cheese. There was no silverware. A lit candle was on the floor and the mouse seemed to be gone. I checked the room for windows and doors. It had none. Just four walls and a ceiling and floor. There were no holes anywhere for a light fixture or electrical plug, nor any trapdoors or secret exits that I could find. Once more, I didn’t know how I got in here. Maybe after I fell asleep to sleepwalk, I sleepwalked out of the cave into this room and then sealed the entrance to the room and woke up. As for the mouse, I suppose if it didn’t follow me and wasn’t hiding in here, that it just stayed in the cave or sleepscurried to the outdoors or some other cave or room. But where’d the food and candle come from? Maybe there was a kitchen between the cave and room. And during my sleepwalking I stopped to sleepcook a pot of spaghetti, sleeplight a candle and then sleepbring the food and candle and maybe even the table and chair into this room. The reason there was no silverware could be that when I’m by myself I prefer eating with my hands. It was a good thing I sleepcooked some food, as I was very hungry. I ate, and then feeling drowsy from so much food, shut my eyes and felt myself falling asleep.