All Hat by Brad Smith Read Free Book Online

He was thirty years old, being treated like a teenager.
    Paulie woke up a few miles east of London. It was near dark now, and they were sandwiched in among the countless tractor trailers that crawled the 401 like caterpillars. Dean hated being in their midst; they stirred in him a raging claustrophobia never evident elsewhere. He had a need to see where he was going, to have a horizon to aim for. Otherwise, he feared that he was standing still.
    â€œWhy’d you tell that girl your name was Dino?” Paulie was asking now.
    â€œWhat?”
    â€œThat girl Misty, at Slamdance. You told her your name was Dino.”
    Dean shrugged. “I like it. I might even change it, down at the courthouse. Dino is a cool name; it commands respect, you know. It’s an Italian thing.”
    â€œYou ain’t Italian.”
    â€œIt’s a fucking attitude. You don’t understand shit, Paulie. That’s your problem.”
    Paulie yawned. “Least I know my name.”
    *   *   *
    They reached the stables at shortly past eight. Dean got out and shook the stiffness from his joints. The place didn’t measure up to the Stanton farm, but it was a pretty nice spread just the same. There were two barns, red with gray roofs, and a series of interconnecting paddocks that ran behind and to the east. The house itself was a two-story stucco, with porches across the front and one side.
    There was an older guy waiting for them; he had a steel gray brush cut and long sideburns, and he said his name was Jim Burnside. Paulie thought that was pretty cool, having a name that fit the way you looked.
    Paulie unloaded the mare, and they tucked her away in a stall in a small barn off the main building. Jim tossed in a sheaf of hay and filled a water pail.
    â€œYou guys sticking around?” he asked.
    â€œWhen you gonna breed her?” Dean asked.
    â€œTomorrow morning, I’d guess,” Jim said. “Have to wait for the boss. He likes to run the show himself. She might have to stay a couple days.”
    â€œWhere’s the stallion?”
    â€œRiver Ridge? He’s over to the other place. Can’t have him around here, with the mares in season. He’d kick the fucking walls down.”
    â€œWell, we got no plans,” Dean said.
    â€œThen let’s get a drink,” Jim said.
    There was a country-and-western bar in a mall a couple miles away. They sat at the bar, and Jim and Dean ordered rye and water, Paulie, a beer.
    â€œHow long you been with Stanton?” Jim asked.
    â€œA while now,” Dean told him. “I handle a lot of the breeding stock. I picked your stud River Ridge for this mare; I figure it’s a good match.”
    Paulie snorted into his beer. Dean shot him a look.
    â€œPaulie helps me out, with the loading and transport, that kind of thing,” Dean said.
    Paulie nodded. “You tell him, Dino,” he said, and he slid off the stool, walked to a video machine along the wall. Dean watched him a moment, then signaled to the bartender: “Two more.”
    â€œSo what’s he like, Earl Stanton?” Jim asked, reaching real quick for the fresh drink. He was a thirsty man, it seemed.
    â€œHe’s all right.”
    â€œHe’s sure been the big dog the past couple years, here and in the States both. That Jumping Jack Flash has gotta be the best four-year-old in North America. They got him at the home farm?”
    â€œWe got him at Woodbine right now. Running that big race on Sunday.”
    â€œFucker can run. The old man can pick a horse.”
    Dean took a drink, turned to watch the waitress’s ass as she walked past. He felt his anger come up. “Yeah, well it helps when you’re sitting on half a billion dollars. You buy a hundred colts every spring; one of ’em’s bound to be a keeper. Fucking nags are just a hobby to him. He makes all his dough with the electronics and the other shit. He could lose ten million