THE PURPLE HORSE Not By Don Marquis Christopher Smegley was a stable boy for the Rappaport family. He was a good stable boy. He kept the horses brushed and exercised and watered and fed. He kept the stalls clean. And he always noticed when the oats were running low or a saddle needed repair. But most of all he noticed Betty Rappaport. Whenever Betty Rappaport was near the stable, Christopher would stop what he was doing and watch Betty. He was always helpful and friendly to Betty Rappaport. "Hello, Miss Rappaport," Christopher would say. And Betty would look away without answering. "I brushed your horse today, Miss Rappaport." "Beautiful day today, Miss Rappaport." But seldom did Christopher receive a smile, a nod, or any sign that she knew he had spoken. Christopher Smegley, stable boy, simply did not exist for Betty Rappaport. Christopher knew that he was only temporarily a stable boy, that behind his simple outward appearance stood the real Christopher Smegley: suave, cool, sophisticated, sexy. He knew that if Betty would only notice him, she would recognize all his fine qualities and would fall helplessly in love with him. His only problem was to make her notice him. He knw that he would have to do something unusual, something spectacular, to win the attention and finally the love of Betty Rappaport. He decided to do something so spectacular that Betty could not ignore it and would have to come to him for help. But what could he do? Day after day he worried about this problem. Each day that he watched Betty Rappaport come to the stables he worried more about what to do. Finally he developed a plan: He would paint Betty's horse purple! What a perfect plan, he decided. Of course! That is the answer. He will come to the stable very early on a day that he knows Betty will be coming, and he will paint the horse purple from nose to tail and from hoof to mane. He might even paint the horse's hoofs red. Perhaps he will braid the tail, paint it yellow, weave daisies into it. Then, Christopher thought, he will sit on the fence with great dignity, with utmost confidence, and with just the right degree of cool, and will await the arrival of lovely Miss Betty Rappaport. Betty will arrive, as she always does, looking sweet and pretty as she walks past him on the fence. He will greet her, as he always does, and she will ignore him, of course. Betty will go into the stable to see her horse. She will discover that her beautiful brown horse is now a peculiar passionate-purple horse with red hoofs and a braided yellow tail with daisies. She will scream and she will run to the very same Christopher Smegley whom she has ignored for so long--for, after all, he is the stable boy--and she will cry, "Oh, help! Help! My horse is purple!" Christopher, suave and sophisticated stable boy that he is, will soothe her, he thought. She will be confused and angry, but he will assure her that everything is all right, that all will turn out for the best, and that eventually she will be glad her horse is purple. She will complain that he had no right to tamper with her horse. But Christopher, being at heart a very cool, sexy and suave fellow, will draw upon all his long suppressed powers of coolness, sexiness and suaveness and will soothe her. She will slowly succumb to his charm, but she will still be upset, so Christopher will suggest that they saddle her purple horse while he saddles a plain brown horse, and that they ride together so that she can see how truly wonderful it is to have a purple horse with red hoofs and a yellow braided tail with daisies. She will protest at first, of course, but eventually she will agree to ride with him. Soon they will come to a cluster of trees surrounding a deep pool of spring water where they will stop to drink. Christopher will suggest that they swim. Betty will protest at first, of course, as she won't have a swimming suit. But Christopher will promise to look away until she is in the water and he will be so charming that eventually she will agree to swim. Once in the water, Christopher thought, he will be put to his greatest test. He must remain cool, suave, sophisticated, and the perfect gentleman. He must inspire confidence, trust, and even love. So, maintaining his great cool and his perfect suaveness, he will swim with her. Then he will suggest that they rest together on a blanket under a nearby tree. She will protest at first, of course, but ultimately she will agree, and together they will spread a blanket under the tree. With their arms around one another on the blanket by the tree near the pool of spring water with the brown horse and the purple horse nearby, Betty Rappaport will be utterly overcome and all of Christopher's dream will come true. * * * As Christopher thought about his plan, he knew that it would work. It was a perfect plan. It was so cleverly contrived and would be so masterfully executed that it had to work. How perfectly brilliant of her, he thought, to devise such a plan. Yes, he decided, he would do it. So Christopher bought some thick purple paint, some small cans of red and yellow paint, and some paint brushes. He waited for a day that he knew Betty Rappaport would be coming to the stable. He picked some white and yellow daisies. Then he painted Betty's horse purple with red hoofs and yellow tail, and he braided daisies into the tail. Perfect, he told himself with satisfaction. How absolutely perfect, he kept telling himself as he sat on the fence waiting for Betty Rappaport. He was almost bursting with anticipation as, finally, he saw Betty walking up the winding path toward the stable. "Good morning, Miss Rappaport," he said. Betty ignored him, of course. Christopher was almost beside himself as he watched her enter the stable. She must be approaching the stall now, he thought. His heart raced. He felt lightheaded as he knew Betty must, right now, be standing beside her purple and red and yellow horse. He could hardly contain himself as he knew she must, any moment, come to him for help in what must be the first of a marvelous series of events which will finally culminate in love and even marriage with this lovely girl whom he has worshipped for so long. He heard her scream. "Stable boy! Oh, stable boy!" His heart bounding, Christopher stepped cooly from the fence. "I must maintain my cool," he told himself. "I must remain suave, sophisticated, debonaire, sexy." With total suaveness he waited. So sweet, he thought. So pretty. Helpless. Lovely. "Today she will become mine," he thought as he watched her run toward him. "Stable boy! Stable boy! Oh, Stable boy, my horse is purple!" "I know," he said. "Let's fuck." --END-- Call The Works BBS - 1600+ Textfiles! - [914]/238-8195 - 300/1200 - Always Open