Wednesday, January 05, 2011

Frankie`s Visit.

It was a sad time in the Mason household, Frankie`s mother had died. There was no feeling about the house, and Frankie`s Dad had taken to spending even more time at the local pub.   Frankie  missed her. Her smell, always that clean freshly washed smell, her softness and the overwhelming sense of home she created.

Frankie stood up from his Mom`s chair, wiping the tears from his eyes, he turned off the wireless. He couldnt stand the squawking sounds of Radio Caroline any more.  Frankie had things to do!

Silver, he was looking a tad forlorn in his backyard stable, the paint on the woodwork was looking drab, and the smell of uncollected manure was begining to permeate the whole street!  His mom was gone, but her little boy, wasnt about to be suffocated by grief.  Frankie pulled open the stable door, and attached the lead rope to Silvers halter, the horses ears pricked up, “C`mon Silver, we`ve got a job to do!”  With that, Frankie Mason saddled the horse, and rode out of the back yard and down the lane at the rear of his row of houses.   It was about mid afternoon, when Frankie and Silver rounded the corner of the Cemetery road. There was a breeze, only slight, but nevertheless it was very pleasant, the leaves on the trees shook with tremulous delight, or so it seemed to see Frankie and Silver approaching the high gated entrance to “Boot Hill!”

Frankie`s mothers grave was still not marked by any method other than a small wooden cross with a number on it. His Dad hadnt got round to organising a Stone Memorial.  her number was 1008, not an unusually auspicious number, but it stuck in Frankie`s mind.  The horse and Frankie stood, for what seemed hours, at the foot of the newly turned earth.  “Hey You!”  Frankie was startled, “You cant bring a bloody `orse in `ere!”  Frankie turned in the saddle and looked toward the noise. Leaning on an overly large shovel, was a man of lean stature, of weathered features, and sporting a floppy checked cap.

“I`m really sorry mister, its me Mam, I just come to look at `er.” There was no reply. Instead, the man came closer, until finally he was standing right alongside Silver. “What d`ya call `im?”  Frankie said nothing, he was crying.  “ Dont take on lad, we all come `ere at some point,…… b`sides, its not a bad place.”  Frankie looked up, “Silver, `is names Silver!”

“ Best be goin` lad, afore the Boss see`s ya! Nice `orse, does `e do tricks?”…..”No Mister, but `e can shift!”  With that Frankie Mason rode out of the Graveyard.


  1. Well didn't take much for me to come to tears this mornin'...

  2. Cheyenne, your writing has a touch of reality in it, I'm betting this has some of your own memories in it. Hope you and your wife are feeling better now.

  3. Shirley? One of the pleasures in my life was a close relationship with one horse in particular. Her story I might write in full, one day.