Rocketman

Chapter 1: Blaze Bandit

A hushed morning fell over the little farm plot belonging to the Davidsons. Hints of autumn began to reveal itself in the occasional fallen leaf and cool, gentle breeze. On the highest hill of the nine-acre property sat a modest log cabin. While old fashioned and quaint, the old couple who lived there were satisfied with the sturdy housing it has offered them in their now forty-three years of marriage. A distance off to the left of the house stood a run-down little barn. The little integrity it had left remained in its strong foundation, as the metal roof had begun to rust and the wood was discolored. To both sides of the house were multiple fenced-in areas of land. Currently, there were only two paddocks occupied; one contained a lovely chestnut mare, while another adjacent to it kept three goats.

Sitting on the porch was Mr. Davidson, reading the paper, glasses perched on the end of his nose. His large frame let out a humph as he called to his wife, "Listen to this, Lorraine: 'Jockey injured in Sunday's big race now suspected to have drugged the young up-and-coming star, Blaze Bandit'."

"Oh now," Mrs. Davidson responded, waddling out of the house holding two plates of scrambled eggs, "I think you fuss too much about those silly racing horses. It's just drama is all, there always has to be drama in sports. Put it away and eat your breakfast."

Mrs. Davidson reached for the paper, but Mr. Davidson quickly defended himself, "I ain't fussin'! This is the first time I ever heard of this 'Blaze Bandit' colt. Besides, I'm interested! Listen, there's more: 'Due to the circumstances of the drugs and the outcome of the race, Blaze Bandit was forced into retirement. When asked what his plans were, Blaze Bandit's owner responded that originally he was going to send him for breeding, being that this race should have been his fiftieth win, but now the horse has been sold to an unknown buyer.'"

"Well, I think you should stop thinking about the racehorse drama, and start thinking about the new horse you have hidden in that barn," Mrs. Davidson noted, nodding toward the rusting old stables.

Mr. Davidson just ignored her and mumbled to himself, something about wanting to know the outcome of that race. Mrs. Davidson swiftly grabbed the paper from him, gave him a light flick on the shoulder with it, and laughed, "You didn't even here me, did you?"

"I heard, I heard. I's just wantin'—"

"Goon now, get!" Mrs. Davidson waved him away, "You need to be gettin' Riley's birthday present ready for her before her and her big sister get here."

 "I got it, I'm goin'! Love you." Mr. Davidson kissed his wife before walking down the stairs and to the barn.