Arleigh Gant had campaigned two decades, but this would be his last season. He’d gotten the news from his doctor in June. He’d decided to go to North Dakota in July as usual, but with only one adult dog. That dog would be Rampaging, a first-year, and last season’s Derby of the Year. Arleigh still owned him.
He’d told his four dog owners of his decision to quit the circuit but not the reason. He did not want anyone to know of his illness. He’d sent the owners’ dogs to other handlers of their choice.
He would take also three coming derbies of his own, siblings of Rampaging from his bitch Hannah, sired like Rampaging by Miller’s White Powder, now banned. That, Arleigh believed, was a shame. He would also take a dozen or so young dogs for shooting plantations.
He would take one helper, a seventeen-year-old lad named Bob Blevins. He’d been asked to take him by Ben Reach and Dr. Sam Nixon. Bob was in trouble. He would face trial on an assault charge on his return to Georgia in September. He’d been living with Arleigh for two months now, learning to care for dogs and horses and to ride. Arleigh was a widower, so it had been only the two of them in the little house on twenty acres outside Leesburg. He’d also helped Bob complete a drivers ed class and get a drivers license.
So far Arleigh and Bob shared two traits: they were quiet, and observant. Through their two months together Arleigh had observed Bob get a feel for the animals. Observed too that Bob had a touch with animals. And that Bob was deeply troubled, by just what Arleigh did not know, but was determined to discover. Arleigh too had been troubled at the same age.
They made Columbus in three long days with only one flat tire, alternating at the wheel every four hours. They’d spent the first night on a friend’s farm in Kentucky where the four horses enjoyed a paddock with fresh hay and the dogs slept tethered on chains stretched in an empty hay barn, the second with a Vet in Nebraska with similar arrangements for the animals.
Arleigh was weak with fatigue when they finally made the old homesteaders house on the prairie that would be home for two months. He crawled into bed and left it to Bob to unload and settle the horses and dogs. Three hours later Bob took him a warm mug of home-made vegetable soup brought over by the nearest neighbor who lived two miles toward Lignite. He ate it and immediately fell asleep again, to wake at dawn.
He heard first the thump of a basketball being dribbled and the rattle of the chains hanging in the rim of the basketball goal in the yard. He smiled. Bob’s only possession brought with him, save his wardrobe of Walmart boots, underwear, socks, jeans, khakis, T-shirts and khaki work shirts Arleigh had bought for him, was a basketball. The goal had been built by the last year-round resident of the house, a range hand, for his children. Arleigh would hear those sounds through the summer whenever Bob was not working, sleeping or eating.
Bob had made coffee. Arleigh poured a cup and walked out to the yard. Bob sunk a three pointer and grinned. Arleigh gave him a thumbs up.
The neighbor who had brought the soup also brought eggs, bacon and bread and Arleigh quickly made them breakfast. Arleigh had Bob hook Rampaging and his three derby siblings to the roading rig of the ATV and they took off for a section-road tour of their training grounds, Bob riding behind Arleigh. The dogs strained happily against their harnesses. An hour later when they returned to the house the temperature had risen to 85 F and promised to reach 90 F +.
Arleigh drove to Crosby and after cruising the few streets to show Bob the town, stopped at a small supermarket and bought their list of supplies and groceries. Then Arleigh made a ritual visit to a farm equipment dealership to inspect its yard holding dozens of equipment relics of twentieth century prairie farming, tractors of every size and design from the teen years through the end of the century, plus the implements they pulled to plow, till and harvest. Arleigh explained to Bob what he was seeing. Then they drove the High-line Highway West to the Montana line.
Along the way they saw combines circling enormous wheat fields, engulfed in their own dust clouds, and on the road rolling toward them eighteen wheelers filled with grain from the combines, bound for elevators set beside the nearby east-west train tracks.
“It sure is flat,” Bob said.
Back at their house, Arleigh lay down for a nap. He dozed off hearing Bob’s basketball thumping the hard earth, then rattling the chains on the rim.
They could not legally turn loose the dogs before horses until July 15, so they began a day-long program to yard train the young dogs on check cords. Arleigh had arranged in advance of their arrival to acquire barn trapped pigeons from a farmer nearby and these had been housed in an old pigeon house. He showed Bob several ways to use the pigeons with the pupils to confirm their birdiness and pointing instincts. The pigeons had been trained by the farmer to fly back to the Judas gate in the pigeon house to rejoin their companions.
Arleigh assigned half the plantation pups and one of the derby siblings of Rampaging to Bob. “These are yours to teach, and for you to learn from. Ask me questions anytime, and don’t worry about me thinking your questions are dumb,” Arleigh said.
While Bob was by nature almost painfully quiet, he soon peppered Arleigh with questions. Together they watched on TV DVDs made by Ferrel Miller titled Common Sense Bird Dog Training. Over coming days Arleigh often found Bob replaying these DVDs at all hours, plus others Arleigh had forgotten he had, sent to him as promotions by their producers.
Bob also took responsibility for roading the dogs on the ATV early and late in the day and for keeping the ground around the plastic barrels to which they were chained in the shade of a shelter break picked up with shovel and hoe. He also saw to their feeding and watering, as instructed by Arleigh.
Bob rode their four horses daily to keep them in shape. Finally July 15 arrived. At dawn they began working the young plantation pups from horseback.
Young pheasants and sharptails were present in good numbers. They allowed the dogs to flash point and chase until they were thoroughly bird crazy and then showed realization they could not catch their quarry. Before long they were allowing Bob to walk in front of their points and flush the pointed birds. They worked this way early mornings and late afternoons.
There were twenty professionals and their helpers working grounds in a sixty mile radius of their camp. All knew of Arleigh’s decision to quit the circuit, none of the reason. Rumors abounded — he was taking a plantation job, or a job not involving dogs. The speculation was most about Rampaging’s future, and who would buy him from Arleigh. All the all-age handlers among them had tried, but Arleigh had told them he was not yet ready to sell. They figured he figured the price would be highest just before the fall half of the season started, when handlers were discouraged by the lack of progress with the dogs they were training.
August 1 Arleigh decided to call Ben Reach. He timed the call just before 5 PM hoping to catch Ben and Dr. Sam together for their end-of-day drams. Joanne activated the speaker phone in the library-conference room where the curmudgeons sat nursing their plastic cups.
“How are you Arleigh?” Ben asked.
“Better than I expected to be now, Mr. Ben. Is Dr. Sam with you?”
“Yes I am, Arleigh.”
“Well that’s good, Gentlemen, I hoped I could talk with you both. I’ve got just one question for you. What caused Bob to be charged with assault? He’s the gentlest soul his age I’ve ever met.”
Ben and Sam looked at one another. Bob had asked them not to tell. Ben had answered him, “We won’t unless it’s necessary.”
“He beat up a neighbor in the project who called his mother a whore. She’s a single mother who works two full time jobs to support three children, two now that Bob’s with you,” Ben said.
“I figured something like that. By the way, he’s grown two inches and I think he could play college basketball.” Arleigh hung up.
Ben and Sam smiled at one another and Ben called out to tell Joanne but she had left for the beauty parlor. Ben poured them a second dividend to celebrate.