Leroy Ninker Saddles Up

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Coda

  Leroy Ninker worked at the Bijou Drive-In Theater concession stand.

  It was Leroy’s job to pour drinks and butter popcorn and smile a very large smile.

  At the concession stand, Leroy Ninker said, “Thank you very much!”

  He said, “Extra butter on that?”

  He also said, “Yippie-i-oh.”

  Leroy Ninker said “Yippie-i-oh” because Leroy Ninker had a dream. He wanted to be a cowboy.

  On Wednesday nights, the Bijou Drive-In Theater ran a Western double feature, and Leroy Ninker stood and watched in wonder as the great white expanse of the Bijou screen filled with purple mountains, wide-open plains, and cowboys.

  The cowboys wore ten-gallon hats. They wore boots. They carried lassos. The cowboys were men who cast long shadows and knew how to fight injustice. They were men who were never, ever afraid.

  “Yippie-i-oh,” Leroy Ninker whispered to the screen. “That is the life for me. A cowboy is who I was meant to be.”

  “Who are you whispering to?” said Beatrice Leapaleoni.

  Beatrice was the ticket seller at the Bijou. Once all the tickets were sold and the movie had begun, Beatrice joined Leroy Ninker in the concession stand so that she could eat popcorn and watch the movie.

  “I am not whispering,” said Leroy Ninker very loudly. “Cowboys do not whisper.”

  “Can I make a point?” said Beatrice Leapaleoni. “Can I make a simple observation?”

  “Yes,” said Leroy.

  “All these cowboys,” said Beatrice, “what have they got?”

  “Hats,” said Leroy Ninker as he stared at the screen. “And also boots.”

  “Yep,” said Beatrice. “What else?”

  “Lassos,” said Leroy. He put his hand on his lasso.

  “And?” said Beatrice.

  “Tracking abilities?” said Leroy.

  Beatrice heaved a heavy sigh. “I am thinking of something that you can actually see. Something right in front of you.” She paused. “Something that the cowboys are sitting on.”

  Leroy Ninker took off his hat and scratched his head.

  Beatrice sighed again. “Horses, Leroy,” she said. “Every cowboy needs a horse.”

  Leroy Ninker was a small man with a big dream. He was also the kind of man who knew the truth when he heard it. Suddenly, his hat and his lasso and his boots and his yippie-i-ohs didn’t feel like enough. Beatrice Leapaleoni was right. How could he ever hope to be a cowboy, a real cowboy, a true cowboy, without a horse?

  “Yep,” said Beatrice, “you’ve got a problem. You’ve got to procure a horse. But don’t worry, I happen to have the solution for you right here.” She held up a copy of the Gizzford Gazette. “Listen,” she said. Beatrice adjusted her glasses. She cleared her throat.

  “‘Horse for sale,’” Beatrice Leapaleoni read. “‘Old but good. Very exceptionally cheap.’”

  “Yippie-i-oh,” said Leroy Ninker. He took out his wallet and counted his money. He looked at Beatrice Leapaleoni. He said, “How much is very exceptionally cheap?”

  “I guess you won’t know until you ask,” said Beatrice.

  “Right,” said Leroy. He counted his money again. “I hope I have enough.”

  “Listen,” said Beatrice. “What you have to do here is take fate in your hands and wrestle it to the ground.”

  “Right!” said Leroy. “I am going to wrestle fate. I am going to get a horse!”

  “There you go,” said Beatrice. She tore the ad out of the paper and handed it to Leroy.

  “Yippie-i-oh,” said Leroy. He carefully folded the piece of paper and put it in his wallet.

  “Don’t forget to inspect the teeth,” said Beatrice Leapaleoni. “And the hooves. That is what matters with horses. Teeth. And hooves.”

  “Teeth and hooves,” said Leroy Ninker.

  “Exactly,” said Beatrice.

  That night, Leroy Ninker did not sleep well. He dreamed of horses. Specifically, he dreamed of teeth and hooves.

  Also, he dreamed of Beatrice Leapaleoni. In his dream, she kept clearing her throat and saying, “Take fate in your hands, take fate in your hands, take fate in your hands.”

  “And then what?” said Leroy Ninker in the dream.

  “And then,” said Beatrice Leapaleoni in a very solemn voice, “you must wrestle it to the ground.”

  The next morning after breakfast, Leroy Ninker put his hat on his head and his boots on his feet. He consulted the ad from the Gizzford Gazette. He read aloud the address of the horse for sale.

  “‘Route sixteen, third house on the left,’” said Leroy Ninker. And then he said it again, “Route sixteen, third house on the left,” just to make sure he had it right.

  Leroy folded the ad back up. He put it in his wallet. He adjusted his hat. He was now prepared to take fate in his hands and wrestle it to the ground. He was ready to procure a horse. Leroy set out walking.

  The sun was high above his head, and the sky was very blue. As Leroy walked, he imagined that he was on the open plain.

  A car drove by. “Look, Mama!” A boy in the backseat of the car pointed at Leroy. “It’s a very tiny cowboy.”

  Leroy stood up straighter.

  “I am a cowboy on his way to procure a horse,” he said. “I am a man wrestling fate to the ground.”

  Another car drove by. Someone threw a can out the window. The can hit Leroy Ninker in the head.

  “Dang nib it,” said Leroy. He stopped and took off his hat. He rubbed at his head. “Don’t get agitated,” he told himself. “Just keep thinking about your horse.”

  Leroy Ninker put his hat back on his head and started walking again. He thought about his horse. I hope he is a fast horse, he thought. And I hope that he is strong. I will call him Tornado.

  Leroy found this name so pleasing that he had to stop walking and hold himself very still and properly consider the glory of the word.

  “Tornado,” Leroy whispered.

  And then he shouted it: “Tornado!”

  It was the most perfect name for a horse ever.

  “Tornado!” shouted Leroy Ninker again. “Yippie-i-oh.”

  The cowboy started to run. He was heading to meet the horse of his dreams! There was no time to waste!

  “I’m on my way, Tornado!” shouted Leroy Ninker as he ran down the side of the road.

  By the time Leroy made it to his destination, it was late afternoon and his feet hurt.

  “What can I do for you?” said the woman who answered the door.

  “I am here about the horse,” said Leroy.

  “You’re interested in Maybelline?” said the woman.

  “Maybelline?” said Leroy.

  “Follow me, Hank,” said the woman.

  “Hank?” said Leroy.

  The woman walked to the back of the house. Leroy followed her. “Since you are asking,” said the woman over her shoulder, “my name is Patty LeMarque. Maybelline is right over here.”

  Patty LeMarque climbed a fence.

  Leroy climbed the fence, too.

  “There she is,” said Patty LeMarque. She waved her arm in the direction of a horse standing in a field. “There is Maybelline.”

  At the sound of her name, the horse turned and came trotting toward them. She whinnied. She was a big horse, and her whinny was very loud.

  “Maybelline,” said Patty LeMarque, “meet Hank.”

  The horse whinnied again. She opened her mouth wide. Leroy took advantage of h
er mouth being open to look at her teeth. There weren’t a lot of them. As far as he could tell, there were four in total.

  How many teeth was a horse supposed to have? Beatrice Leapaleoni had not said.

  Leroy Ninker looked down at the horse’s hooves. There were four of them, too.

  That seemed good.

  “Yippie-i-oh,” said Leroy Ninker.

  The horse put her nose right up in his face. It was a large nose. There were whiskers on it, and it smelled very much like the nose of a horse.

  “She likes you,” said Patty LeMarque. “Ain’t that something? Maybelline don’t like everybody. In fact, there’s a whole raft of people she don’t like. She is a particular horse, if you don’t mind me saying so.”

  “I don’t mind you saying so,” said Leroy.

  He put out his hand and touched the horse’s nose. It was damp and velvety. Leroy felt his heart tumble and roll inside of him. Oh, to be a cowboy with a horse! To ride into the sunset! To ride into the wind! To be brave and true and cast a large, horsey shadow!

  “Maybelline,” said Leroy Ninker.

  “That’s her name,” said Patty LeMarque.

  “I’ll take her,” said Leroy.

  “Now, Maybelline’s old,” said Patty LeMarque, “and I am moving, and where I am moving to, they don’t take horses. My main goal here is to make sure that Maybelline goes to a home where she is loved up good through all her older, more golden years. You understand what I’m saying, Hank?”

  “Yippie-i-oh,” said Leroy.

  “I ain’t looking for money is what I am saying. I am looking for love for Maybelline. And I am just going on my instinctuals here, but my instinctuals tell me that you are the right little fellow for this horse. So now I am going to tell you some things about Maybelline. Listen up, Hank.”

  “Yippie-i-oh,” said Leroy.

  Patty LeMarque looked at him. She squinted. “I don’t know what that means, Hank,” she said.

  “Okay,” said Leroy. “It means okay.”

  “If okay is what you mean, Hank,” said Patty LeMarque, “then just flat out say it. Be a straightforward communicator, like me.”

  “Okay,” said Leroy.

  “Okay!” said Patty LeMarque. “Here are the things about Maybelline. There are three items you got to remember. Item one is that she is the kind of horse who enjoys the heck out of a compliment. You got to talk sweet to Maybelline, understand?”

  “Yippie-i-oh,” said Leroy.

  “Itchie-pitchie-poo, Hank,” said Patty LeMarque. “Say what you mean and mean what you say.”

  “Okay,” said Leroy.

  “There you go!” said Patty LeMarque. “Item two about Maybelline is that she is a horse who eats a lot of grub. And when I say a lot of grub, I mean something real specified. What I mean is this horse eats A. Lot. Of. Grub.”

  “Okay,” said Leroy. He nodded. “A lot of grub.”

  “Item three is that Maybelline is the kind of horse who gets lonesome quick. What I mean by that is that she is not the kind of horse who cares to be left behind. This is the most important item, Hank. Do not leave Maybelline alone for long, or you will live to rue and regret the day.”

  “Rue and regret the day,” said Leroy. “Okay.”

  “All right, then,” said Patty LeMarque. “She’s all saddled up and ready to go. Let me give you a hand here, Hank, since you are kind of a short little gentleman who looks to be in need of assistance with some of life’s more overwhelming necessities.”

  Patty LeMarque helped Leroy Ninker up on Maybelline’s back, and right away Leroy Ninker noticed that the world was different from the top of a horse. The colors were deeper. The sun shone brighter. The birds sang more sweetly.

  Also, Patty LeMarque seemed shorter and a tiny bit less bossy.

  “Giddy-up,” said Leroy Ninker to his horse.

  Nothing happened.

  Leroy Ninker slapped the reins. “Giddy-up,” he said again.

  Maybelline stood without moving.

  “Hank,” said Patty LeMarque, “I don’t believe that you were listening to me even one tiny bit when I listed out them three items. You got to listen in this world, Hank. You got to pay attention to the informational bits that people share with you.”

  “Okay,” said Leroy.

  “Okay, then. Listen up. If I were you, I would cogitate on item one right about now.”

  “Do what?” said Leroy.

  “Compliment her,” whispered Patty LeMarque. “Give the horse some pretty words.”

  Leroy Ninker looked down at Maybelline’s bony back. He counted the knobs in her spine. He tried to think of some pretty words. Did he even know any pretty words?

  Leroy thought very hard.

  And finally, Leroy spoke. He opened his mouth and said the sweetest words he could think of. He said, “You are the most beautified horse in the whole wide green world.”

  The horse pricked up her ears. She twitched the left ear to the right and the right ear to the left. Both ears quivered hopefully.

  Emboldened, Leroy Ninker leaned forward and spoke directly into the right ear. He said, “You are the sweetest blossom in springtime.”

  Maybelline picked up her right front hoof. She held it high in the air.

  “Good job, Hank,” said Patty LeMarque.

  “You are a pure flower of horsiness!” said Leroy Ninker.

  Maybelline began to walk.

  “Well, look at you, Hank,” said Patty LeMarque. “It seems you got a talent for poeticals.”

  “Oh, Maybelline!” shouted Leroy. “You are the brightest star in the velvety nighttime sky!”

  Maybelline broke into a trot.

  “Good-bye, Maybelline!” shouted Patty LeMarque. “Good luck, Hank. Remember them other two items! And listen to the people of the world when they offer you informational bits!”

  Patty LeMarque held up a hand and waved, and Leroy waved back and then Patty LeMarque disappeared.

  Maybelline (Leroy’s horse!) was going very, very fast.

  Leroy Ninker held on tight. He thought of more pretty words, and he said them.

  “Sweetness,” said the cowboy. “Lovely one. Beloved.”

  The horse went faster.

  “Maybelline of my dreams!” shouted Leroy Ninker.

  The world was a green and gold blur, and Leroy was happier than he had ever been in his life. Maybelline ran and ran and ran.

  The horse ran until the sun was low in the sky and the shadows were long and sad.

  “Maybelline,” said Leroy into Maybelline’s left ear, “it is time for the two of us to head home.”

  Maybelline nickered. She slowed down to a trot. And then she stopped entirely. Leroy Ninker slid forward in the saddle.

  “Giddy-up, my beautiful one,” said Leroy.

  But Maybelline held still.

  “Yippie-i-oh, my beloved,” said Leroy. “We are homeward bound.”

  Maybelline looked to the left, and then she looked to the right. She let out a long whinny.

  “Oh,” said Leroy. “I get it.” He slid off Maybelline’s back. He took hold of the reins. “Come on, horse of my heart,” he said. “I will show you the way home.”

  Leroy walked ahead, and Maybelline followed behind, and every once in a while, she would give Leroy a friendly little bump with her nose, pushing him forward. And in this way, the cowboy and his horse made their way home through the deepening purple dusk.

  Home was the Garden Glen Apartments, Unit 12.

  Unit 12 was a very small apartment, which was just fine because Leroy was a very small man. Maybelline, however, was not a small horse. She was a tall horse and she was a wide horse, and she would not fit through the door of Unit 12.

  “Gol’ dang it,” said Leroy Ninker.

  He gave Maybelline a little push. And when that didn’t work, he gave her a large shove. But Leroy soon saw that it was impossible. All the shoving in the world was not going to make Maybelline fit through the door of Unit 12.


  “Dag blibber it,” said Leroy. He actually felt like he might cry. Which was ridiculous because cowboys definitely did not cry.

  Leroy closed his eyes, and Patty LeMarque’s face floated into view. She opened her mouth and said, “Cogitate on item one if you care to move forward, Hank. You got to compliment the heck out of her!”

  Leroy opened his eyes. He cleared his throat. He said, “Maybelline, you are the best squeeziest-into-a-small-spot horse that I have ever known.”

  Maybelline twitched her ears to the left and to the right, and while the horse was busy savoring the compliment, Leroy gave her a hopeful shove.

  But Maybelline still wouldn’t fit through the door.

  “Flibber gibber it,” said Leroy. He closed his eyes and conjured up Patty LeMarque’s face again. He tried to remember the other items about Maybelline. He thought very hard.

  “I got it,” he said. “Item two is that you are the kind of horse who eats a lot of grub.”

  Leroy opened his eyes.

  Maybelline was looking at him in an extremely hopeful manner.

  “Well, yippie-i-okay,” said Leroy Ninker. “I will make us some food, and then we will deal with the too-small door.”

  Maybelline looked as overjoyed as it was possible for a horse to look, and Leroy was moved to compliment her again.

  “You are the most splendiferous horse in all of creation,” he said.

  Maybelline whinnied long and loud. She nodded in agreement.

  She truly was an excellent horse.

  Leroy didn’t think he would ever be done admiring her.

  Leroy Ninker went into the kitchen of Unit 12. He opened the refrigerator and looked inside.

  Leroy had viewed many, many Westerns at the Bijou Drive-In Theater. He had seen a great deal of purple mountains and wide-open plains. He had watched cowboys battling injustices and crossing rivers and eating beans.

  But he could not recall one movie where a cowboy said aloud exactly what it was that he was feeding to his horse.

  “Hay?” said Leroy. He lifted up his hat and scratched his head. “Oats?”