Black Stallion's Shadow (15 page)

“What happened to Joey makes us all look bad.”

“In all the years I've been working in this business, I've never lost an animal like that.”

“This is the last warning, Wes. We're going strictly by the book from now on. Any more screwups and the Humane Council will have to withhold approval of the
show. You know what that would mean. The networks won't touch it.”

They stood in silence a moment while Wes managed to get hold of his temper. He must have realized that arguing with Marty wasn't getting him anywhere. “I'm sorry, Marty. I know I fly off the handle with people sometimes. But never with my animals. You know that.”

Marty nodded. “You push them pretty hard sometimes, Wes.”

“Sure, but I always get the job done without anyone getting hurt.”

“Until yesterday.”

“Yeah,” echoed Wes, “until yesterday.”

A white ragtop Cadillac pulling a small horse trailer came rumbling up the drive and parked by the shooting corral. A burly man with a shaved head and a blond goatee stepped out of the driver's seat. Three young assistants followed him.

Ignoring everyone around him, the bald man in the shiny black boots strode to the other side of the corral. Relaxed, almost catlike, he exuded confidence, as if he owned the place and was walking a few inches higher off the earth than everybody else. The man began testing the sturdiness of the extensions in the holding pen.

“Who's that?” Alec asked Mike.

“Andre, the trainer who'll be handling the stag for today's shoot.” Mike smiled. “Andre used to train animals for the circus. He doesn't communicate. He dominates.”

“How's he get along with Wes?”

“How do you think?”

Alec could imagine the clash of egos between the two trainers. “Not too well, I suspect.”

“They've managed to work together before, barely. In this business, all the trainers have to draw from the same well.”

Andre finished his inspection of the chute and extensions. With a grunt of approval, he hopped into his Caddy, backed the trailer up to the holding-pen gate and barked an order to his helpers. They opened the trailer door. A stag with an imposing rack of horns rushed out of the trailer and darted around the pen.

Alec watched the stag lower his head and shake his horns. “That stag looks fractious enough.”

“You should have seen the bear Andre brought over last year. Ha! That animal wasn't tamed, much less trained. Andre's animals respect the whip and that's about it.”

“Isn't it going to be dangerous bringing Rex and the stag together? What if they start fighting for real?”

Mike kept his eyes on the stag. “They won't. We've done this before. Those two are more scared of each other than anything else. We're going to have to hook them up and pull them together with cables.”

“How's that?”

“See that clump of grass in the center of the corral? That's camouflaging a couple of pulleys anchored to a railroad tie we buried in the center of the corral. Our cable will run from Rex's harness through one of the pulleys. By pulling on the other end of the cable, we can
stand off to the side and drag Rex into position. Andre's people will do the same—the stag will be hooked up to their cable from the opposite side.”

“Won't you see the cables?”

Mike shook his head. “No. They're so fine the cameras will barely pick them up, especially when they're drawn tight. The trick is keeping the cameras at a distance and playing with the focus. If the cameraman does it right, the cables will disappear completely on screen.”

Wes called his wranglers over for a quick conference. Then he sent Mike and the others to man their end of the cable at a spot along the fence halfway across the corral. Andre's assistants mirrored their actions from the other side. Two camera crews took up vantage points along the edge of the fence. It looked as if shooting was about to begin.

Wes brought Rex in from the pasture and positioned him across the corral from the stag's chute. Only after looking carefully could Alec see the harness Rex wore. It crisscrossed the Morgan's chest and had been dyed to match the color of his coat. The effect rendered it practically invisible.

Rex began acting skittish. Wes waved a lash whip high in the air off camera to get his attention and keep him focused. In the far corner, Andre had the stag in the narrow wooden chute. His arms were locked around the stag's neck. He used his massive bulk to keep the animal still. Wes ordered Julio to stand by to cut Rex's cable in case of an emergency. On their side of the corral, one of
Andre's helpers also stood ready with a pair of long-handled wire cutters.

“Tell me when you're all set!” the director shouted to Wes and Andre.

The answers came back fast. “Go ahead.” “Let's do it.”

Frank gave the go-ahead signal to the trainers. The fine cables were clipped onto the harnesses.

“Action!” cried the director.

Hand over hand, the cable crews began to pull their ends of the two cables. The wires drew taut.

Frank signaled the cameramen. “Roll tape!”

Rex and the stag slowly drew toward the center of the corral. Shrill whistles and grunts filled the air. The Morgan reeled back on his hind legs as the stag bounced stiffly toward him. The closer they were pulled to each other, the more they struggled against the invisible cables. Their every move was shadowed by the two camera crews.

If Alec hadn't known about the cables, he would have thought the animal performers actually were facing off to do battle. In reality, they just wanted to get away from each other. The only fighting going on was against the cables holding them.

Over and over again, the cable crews pulled Rex and the stag into position. The two animals never came closer than fifteen feet apart. It all looked terrific to Alec, but Frank wasn't satisfied. The director wanted more footage and kept retaking the scene. Every few takes the camera crew tried another shooting angle. As much time was spent adjusting the cameras and lighting between shots
as on the actual filming.

Across the corral Alec could see Marty Fisher pacing back and forth, watching everything from the sidelines. Frank wanted to keep taping. Marty looked at Wes and tapped his wrist, signaling the trainer to hold up. Alec looked at his own watch. Almost an hour had passed since they started shooting.

“Break time!” Wes called out.

“What!” cried Frank.

Without saying anything, Wes looked in the direction of Marty. Frank glowered at Marty. “Come on, Marty. Just one more run-through. We're almost done.”

“Sorry, Frank. You know the rules. These animals need a rest.”

The crew broke up. The camera operators huddled together with Frank. Most of the others headed to the snack table for coffee. Wes and Andre unhitched the animals from their cables.

Suddenly there was the thunder of a loud motor from the direction of Sagebrush. Someone over at the development was starting up a bulldozer.

Panicked by the noise, the stag broke away from Andre. He bolted across the corral. Crewmen scattered. Someone knocked over a light stand. In one seemingly effortless leap, the stag sailed over the corral fence and disappeared into the trees. Andre cursed loudly and ran after him. His assistants joined in the chase.

In the confusion, Rex pulled free of Wes. Like the stag, he charged the fence and cleared the top rail. Only Rex didn't run off. Once outside the fence, the big Morgan
shrilled with rage. He turned his fury on the first person he could find, Marty Fisher.

“Whoa!” Marty shouted. Rex didn't respond except to flatten his ears and show his teeth. The Morgan plunged past Marty like a charging bull. He slid to a stop and whirled to face Marty again. The humane man could do nothing but stand his ground. He was in a fix and knew it. “Taylor!” he cried. “Get this animal of yours away from me.”

Wes, Mike and the other wranglers jogged over. “Hang on, Mr. Fisher!” Julio shouted. Rex moved in on Marty again, slowly this time. He must have read the fear in Marty's eyes. The oversized Morgan was toying with the humane man, almost like a cat playing with a trapped mouse. Rex edged closer, backing Marty up against a tree.

“Easy, boy. Easy now,” Marty stammered. Rex snorted and stamped his hooves. Before he could charge again, Marty scrambled up the trunk of the tree. Rex began circling the tree trunk as Marty clung desperately to the lower branches.

When the wranglers finally arrived, Mike managed to get a lead line on Rex. Wes called up to Marty. “How'd you get Rex so riled up, Marty? I guess no one told him who you are.”

“Very funny, Taylor.”

“Come on down, now. We have work to do. We can't spend all day climbing around in trees like you.”

“Easy now, Rex. Atta boy,” Mike soothed the Morgan as he led him away.

Wes turned and looked up at the treed humane man. “Coast is clear, Marty.”

Marty unglued himself from the tree and slid down to the ground, landing with a thump and a groan. Dusting himself off, the humane man turned his anger on Wes. “What have you done to that poor creature, anyway?”

“Done to him?”

“He's vicious. A perfect example of what happens to an abused animal.”

Wes laughed. “That's just his nature, Marty. Rex has been about as well treated as anyone could ask for. I know the man who bred him.”

Marty kept up his tirade about abused animals, but some of the righteousness left his voice. Alec thought he sounded like his pride was hurt more than anything.

Frank came up behind Wes, his temper seething. “Every day, Taylor! Every day something goes wrong with these animals of yours.”

“Me! Talk to Andre about that crazy buck of his. Talk to the idiot who cranked up that dozer when we were still working.” Nose to nose, hands on their hips, Wes and Frank went at each other like an umpire and an outraged manager.

When Ellie appeared, Wes broke off his argument with Frank and shifted his anger to her. “Ellie! What's the matter with you! Didn't you give Rotasky our shooting schedule for this morning? I thought we had an agreement with those people!”

Ellie's voice was calm and clear. “We do. I sent our schedule over last week. He promised me they wouldn't
use any heavy machinery while we were shooting at the ranch.”

“You did, huh? So what happened?”

“Don't ask me. Jim went over to talk with the driver just now. Maybe Rotasky figures all bets are off, since you pulled that gun on him the other day.”

Wes grumbled something and turned back to argue with Frank some more. The director threw his cap to the ground and started pulling at his hair. His voice rose. “I don't care. I don't care.
I don't care
! I've wasted too much time already. Set up for the next shot. We'll shoot without sound if we have to.”

The wranglers brought the horses in from their pasture for the next scene. Just as things seemed to be calming down, Jim came running toward them shouting, “Wes! Wes! You've gotta come quick!”

“Settle down, Jim.”

“It's Sagebrush! That dozer of theirs just crossed our property line. They knocked over Sinbad's grave marker and …”

“What the…! Didn't the fool driver see the fence?”

“He ran right over it. Said he was just following the markers left by the survey team.”

Frank looked up to heaven in a plea for help. “Great. Another crisis. Why would I expect anything else?”

Wes ignored him and looked around for Mike. “Mike! Get over here!” Mike left the horses with Patrick and Julio and came hobbling up. Wes handed Mike his lash whip. “Think you can take over for me here?”

“Sure, boss. No problem. Don't worry about a thing.”

Wes turned to Frank. “I'll be right back, Frank. Mike can work the horses in the next scene. He knows what to do.”

Before Frank could answer, Wes hustled off to his truck. Mike smiled, as if glad to have a chance to prove himself on his own. Alec and Ellie looked at each other a moment and then ran after Wes.

CHAPTER 16