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Email or mail us your submission and look for it in an upcoming issue of The Statesman. The Mystery of the Mud Track Trail

by Tom Reeves

(Last week we read about he writer's wife who had a hobby, making model horses. A mystery developed, a trail of muddy tracks in their living room. The writer finally found out what caused the tracks in their house, but never revealed it to his wife. Read the rest of the story to find out why, and what it was.)

I was stunned at what I was seeing and a bit unnerved to say the least. Questions raced through my head. I definitely needed answers. All logic seemed to dictate that this was not happening, yet it was.

"Cygnus?" I questioned, "How long has this been going on?" "Oh, I guess about seven or eight years now," Cygnus replied. "How come I never saw you moving around before now?" I asked. "Well, we have always tried to be very careful not to be moving whenever you or Paula were awake or at home," Cygnus said.

"We were doing pretty good until tonight. What made you come into the living room?" Cygnus asked. "I heard a noise coming from the living room, and since I had seen a muddy trail coming into the living room on two previous occasions, I thought I had better check it out," I replied. "Now that I know you horses are alive, I can see where the mud must have come from," I said.

"What mud?" Cygnus asked. Then I explained to him and the rest of the horses the two occasions after a rain when I had found the muddy trails coming into the house. As it turns out, Cygnus and the other horses were not aware of the mud because when they came back in it was always dark, so they were not aware they were leaving a trail of mud. "Looks like we had better be more careful," Cygnus replied.

"Why do you horses go outside?" I asked. "We like to get a chance to act like the big horses. We like to get outside and run and kick up our heels. We also go outside and practice different poses to try to come up with ideas for the particular pose that best fits each of us, Cygnus replied.

"How do you know which one is best?" I asked. "All the horses get together and look at each other's poses. For example, suppose I want to know what pose I look best in? What I do is, do different poses before the rest of the herd. They all look at my poses and recommend the one that looks best for me," Cygnus said.

"That sounds good," I replied, "but what good does that do?" "Well, once I have the herd's recommendation, it is then up to me to try to figure out how to drop subtle hints to Paula, who is my master, to get her to think of the pose that was selected for me by the herd, and then get her to form me into that pose. Once she does that and takes pictures of me in that pose, then I have a better chance of winning ribbons for her," Cygnus replied.

"That's interesting," I said. "How do you get Paula to figure out what pose to put you in?" I asked. "Sometimes, I will push her tools into a certain location near a picture of something I would like to look like. As you know, Paula gets horse books sometimes. It's easy to turn a page to the one I want her to see. Sometimes she picks up on the ideas right away," said Cygnus.

"Why haven't you ever talked to Paula the way you are talking to me?" I said. "We would like to, but suppose we did? Think of it, would Paula be likely to work on us and develop us to our fullest potential if she knew what you know? Paula is very loving of us. If she knew about this, she would be afraid of hurting us. Plus, it would take some of the joy and fun out of her hobby. For these reasons, she must not know," Cygnus said.

"Are there other models like you that come to life in other homes?" I asked. "Yes," Cygnus replied, "but they feel about their masters like we do about Paula, so they keep their secret to themselves just as we have, up until tonight," Cygnus continued. "Can you see why it is so important that Paula not be told?" Cygnus asked. "Yes, I believe I can," I said. "Certainly, I don't want to spoil her fun either."

"One thing puzzles me, Cygnus; how do you get the door open? I asked. "It's really pretty simple," he said. "It took us a while to figure out how, but, as you know, some of the tack Paula has includes ropes. We figured out, by trial and error, that if we could toss a rope across the door knob, then one horse grab each end of the rope and pull, the pressure on the door knob and our jiggling the door knob back and forth would cause it to open. After that, it was just a matter of sticking a hoof between the edge of the door, and the door jam, and pulling. The door would open right up. After we finished our activity outside, we simply came back in and gently pushed the door shut," Cygnus said. "That's very ingenious," I replied.

Cygnus went on to tell me many more things about himself and the herd, including how it was that they were able to move around, which was a very interesting story in itself. He told me of their plans and dreams and about their lives in the model horse world. I listened on and on into the morning and finally at around five, Cygnus said, "Well, it's approaching daylight. We better all get back to our positions. "

Cygnus assured me I would get a chance to visit with them again. He told me when they planned their next posing and exercise session. I told him I would be there. I watched them all as they galloped across the living room floor, through the hallway and into the room where they normally stood. Each one used the furniture close to their shelves with the skill of a tightwire walker to get back to their positions. Then, once they were back into their positions, they reassumed their poses. Once again, they looked like model horses. There was not so much as the flicker of an ear.

It had been an exciting night for me. Although I was physically tired, my mind was keyed up with all that I had seen and heard. Would I keep my word to Cygnus and not tell Paula what had happened? Certainly, I wanted her to continue to enjoy herself as did Cygnus and the rest of the herd, so I resolved to keep silent.

Many more months and years have gone by since that first night of seeing Cygnus and the other horses moving around in the living room. I still visit with them from time to time, and throw in my two cents as to which pose looks best for each horse. Sometimes I even feel like I'm part of the herd, although I haven't taken up posing.

Yes, for me the mystery was solved. Paula still brings it up sometimes. She says, "I wonder what it was that made that trail on the floor those two times? Do you remember?" she asks. "Yes, I do," I reply, but I let it stop there. It's best that I do not continue. Maybe someday she will get to know the whole story, but until that day comes, she will have to continue to live with an unsolved mystery, the mystery of the mud track trail.