Sawyer led his brother into the rain and a soaking parking lot, where he held up his hand, waiting for a high five. Confused, Zach granted the requested skin slip and arched it a brow.

“Knew you had it in you, lil bro,” Sawyer said smugly, then, oddly, leaned in to smell him.

“Weird. I thought you had to be wearing my cologne.”

“Sawyer, what the hell are you on about?” Zach retorted, cocking his head in confusion.

“Those two girls, they were all over you! I saw!”

“Oh,” Zach said, a hint of disappointment in his words, “They just wanted me to do their homework. … Where’s the trailer?”

Noticing Sawyer had only brought the pickup, Zach distracted from the subject in the hope his brother would drop it.

“Dad bought the other guy’s,” Sawyer explained, “In case this horse is also a dud. He can at least make a profit on the trailer.”

“Aha…” Zach said, dubiously, thinking whatever he’d lost on a horse would never be covered by selling the trailer.

“But that’s not important,” Sawyer continued, throwing open the door to the pickup, “What did you say about those girls?”

“They’re cheerleaders, trying to get me to do their homework next semester.”

The door shut.

“Did they say anything about a reward?”

“I’d get to take Bailey out if I did,” Zach scoffed, slamming the door to punctuate his words.

“Hey, that’s an in. … What’s her last name?”

“Harper.”

“As in Mina Harper’s sister?”

“Could be?” Zach replied, unsure where Sawyer was going with this.

“Man, you should do her homework. If she’s anything like her sister anyway…”

“Then?”

“Like a hoover…”

Zach laughed, “Like you’d know.”

“I wouldn’t, but people talk.”

“Mhm.”

The drive was silent for a moment, before Sawyer turned to look at his brother.

“Don’t tell me you’re into that Ukulele girl…?”

“Yuki,” Zach sighed.

Sawyer swerved, avoiding a rabbit and cutting through the dirt along the road, before returning to the asphalt. After that, he stayed uncharacteristically quiet for a few minutes.

“I guess you’re right,” he suddenly said.

“About what?”

“Going after the Asian girl. Guess you read that book…”

“What book?”

“You know, the one with Professor Lovemaster’s flowchart.”

“Professor who now? What flowchart?”

“‘Into Women; A flowchart’? I have it, you must have seen it when you took my magazine.”

“I didn’t take your fucking magazine,” Zach sighed.

“Whatever. It’s still a useful book. It’ll teach you how to get ready to be with girls like Bailey, but you gotta start at the bottom before you get with a fox like that.”

“The bottom?”

“Chess club girls if that’s all available. Best to start with Asian chicks…They don’t have the passion white or black chicks have.””

“And you paid for this book?”

“What?”

“Read the book, Zach…”

“Just curious, Sawyer… You paid for this?”

“Bought it in a parking lot from a guy selling them from his trunk.”

“A...ha.”

“The Professor told me he’s had women from over three hundred countries to test his theories.”

“Sawyer…?”

“Yeah?”

“There aren’t three hundred countries. Something like hundred and eighty.”

“How would you know, have you counted them?”

“No, but I pay attention in school.”

“Well, they should teach the professor’s work in social studies. Groundbreaking.”

Zach turned the radio and his attention off for about half a minute, at the end of which he did the opposite.

“What about Sophie?”

“What about her?”

“She knows you read this crap?”

“Of course not. A magician doesn’t reveal his secrets.”

“Sophie’s family is Jewish, right? Where are they on the chart?”

“Religion gets its own chart, but the stricter the upbringing, the nastier the girls will get…”

“Aha…”

“I’ll lend you the book, Zach. You can learn all about getting into Ukulele’s pants…”

“Stop calling her that,” Zach snapped, turning up the volume of the radio again.

“Knew you liked her,” Sawyer grinned, though spook too softly to be heard over the music.

They found the man who was selling their horse waiting along the road, leaning against an oddly bright trailer. It was yellow, decorated with green and red symbols that danced around the words ‘Paseos En Llama’.

“I don’t speak Spanish,” Zach said, “But something tells me we’re not getting a horse.”

“Don’t always assume the worst, little bro. Might just be a coincidence…”

Sawyer parked the pickup next to the waiting man who, seen close up, was distinctly odd appearance. He’d almost look home in a bad detective movie as he wore the trench coat and fedora of the classic private dick, but they were clearly several sizes too large for the man. Even odder were the man’s actions. He looked like he should’ve been smoking a cigarette, or maybe chewing a candy one by his looks, but instead he was very deliberately peeling an egg. When he finished, he tossed it in the air, tried to catch it with his mouth and watched in dejection as it fell to the dirt below him.

Stolen from its rightful author, this tale is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

A new egg was produced from his pocket…

Sawyer pushed Zach, who had been enthralled by the spectacle, to open the window.

“You the Brooks boys?” the man asked as soon as the first few inches had passed. He had a thin voice that perfectly matched his appearance.

“You here with Rocinante?” Sawyer returned.

The man put his half peeled egg back in his pocket, where a few small lumps betrayed the presence of at least three more.

“Sure am, boys! Shall I hook her up for you? Just drive it in front.”

Sawyer didn’t wait for Zach to say anything and simply did as requested.

Zach meanwhile scanned the parking lot, finding no car and wondered how the egg-man had gotten there.

“Should we check the horse?” Zach asked.

“Dad already payed,” Sawyer whispered, “And I don’t want another gun pulled on me if it turns out to be a donkey again.”

“Something tells me it’s a llama…”

“Don’t care. Let’s take it and go.”

“Fine, but I’m driving.”

“Why. I’m the better driver?”

“That’s debatable,” Zach sighed.

“The more experienced.”

“And that’s why I drive more carefully. You don’t want to bring Tara a horse in five pieces, do you?”

“I can drive slower, you know.”

“That’d be a first.”

“Fine. You drive.”

The brothers left the car and the egg-man immediately stopped hooking up the trailer.

“I don’t want trouble, boys,” he said, throwing up his hands as if one of them was reaching for a pistol, “Just take the horse and I’ll be on my way.”

Zach frowned, wondering why the man immediately assumed they were out to give him a hard time, then simply assumed it was because of what he looked like.

“No worries, sir…” he said, “We’re just switching seats.”

The man sighed in relief and continued hooking the trailer up.

“Drive save, boys!” he called after them.

Zach adjusted the mirrors and started the car. As he drove off, he saw the man head in the opposite direction on foot, getting another egg from his pocket.

Zach parked the pickup in front of house and, to his annoyance, found himself up to his ankles in a puddle of muddy water.

“Great,” he muttered, extracted himself from the water, then leaned down against the trailer to wait for Sawyer, who was getting their father and sister.

As he stood there, he listened for the sound of horse noises from the trailer, hearing none and he started to wonder if they hadn’t been sold an empty trailer. ...or a dead animal.

He sighed, turned around and peeked through the slats to find out what was in it.

“If that’s a horse, I’m…” he started, then got stuck on what comparison would fit.

He read the lettering on the side again sighed.

“Called it, I guess…”

“Tara’s out!” Sawyer called as he was followed by their father out the door.

“Good!” Zach shouted back,”Cause this is not a horse!”

“What’s not a horse?”

Tara’s voice came from the other side of the trailer, the chime of a bicycle bell bouncing off the asphalt followed a second later.

She joined her family on the other side of the car.

“I saw you coming….”

“You hurried for nothing,” Zach sighed, then tapped the word ‘llama’ on the trailer.

“What? Dad…?”

“It’s probably a horse, right?” Mister Brooks asked forlorn, “It had the same name as the horse from some famous book…Rocinante.”

Tara giggled.

“Why’s that funny?”

“That’s Don Quixote’s horse…”

“And it’s not a horse,” Zach insisted, “But if you want to see for yourself..”

He unlatched the trailer and stood, as he had expected, face to face with a bored looking llama.

“European horse?” Tara teased her father.

“Tara, princess, could you close your ears for a moment?”

Frowning, Tara dutifully did as told, pushing her hands over her ears.

Mister Brooks breathed in deep, waited until he thought his daughter couldn’t hear him, then simply shouted…

“FUCKING FUCK!!!”

Tara laughed, the brothers smirked.

“Have you considered asking Mister Hobbs for help?” Zach tried.

“I’m a grown man,” Mister Brooks sighed, “I can buy a goddamn horse.”

Zach was about to offer that he clearly couldn’t, but thought better of it.

“So, what about the llama?”

“Take it to the fucking slaughterhouse or something. I don’t care.”

Tara stood on her tiptoes to whisper in Zach’s ear, “Just take it to Mister Hobbs…”

Zach, who had already decided to do the same, nodded to his sister, then shut the trailer.

“Sawyer, you coming?”

“I need my car back, don't I?”

“Can you call Old Man Hobbs to tell him we’re coming?” Zach whispered to Tara, unsure if he should ask his still fuming father for anything.

Tara put her thumb and index finger together, still smirking at the llama.

A moment later, Zach left the cul-de-sac.