Brent Nevy

The Man with the Horseshoe - by Brent Nevy

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"Ha!" exclaimed a rugged, blue-coated sailor with a jocular wail of excitement.  He had just won a game of checkers against a red-coated man.  For our purposes, the blue-coated man shall be dubbed as the man with the horseshoe.  "I have the horseshoe," he proclaimed to the tavern.  The other man opposite him, more muscular and adorned in a vibrant coat of vermillion, turned his head up slowly, proudly bringing forth an audible sentence amid the ruckus: "I am the man without the horseshoe."  The man with the horseshoe looked sternly into the other man's eyes.  "I suppose you are the antagonist," said the man with the horseshoe to the man without the horseshoe.  "So I am," the man without the horseshoe replied back, "and you are my enemy, whose possession of the horseshoe I wish to challenge."  Silent dread was conjured in the mind and heart of the sailor in blue.  A terrifying thought arose in his mind, and he knew it was time.  "With this horseshoe," he trembled, "I shall put it upon a horse, like a shoe...and trample you with ill-intent!"  The man without the horseshoe was taken aback, taking cover behind a chair besides their table. "You can't find me!" he cried out behind the stool.  The bluecoat threw the chair back a few feet, revealing the redcoat's vulnerability.  "What a cruel, malign world fostered by mankind!"  But a look of mercy danced in the eyes of the man with the horseshoe.  "You solicit mercy from me," he explained to the redcoat, "and I shall henceforth demonstrate my clemency to you."  The quivering look in the pupils of the eyes of the man of the lacking of the horseshoe oscillated slower now.  "I thank you," the redcoat sighed in relief to the bluecoat, "and now I shall provide to you a loaf of bread.  You may consume it"

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As circumstances changed, there was still a steadfast resolution between the two; mercy in exchange for stale bread.  And for seventeen moons, they were at peace.  But as the eve of the eighteenth moon arrived, something relevant to the plot had become clear.  The two of them sat at a table one evening, discussing geopolitical issues occurring in Wales.  The silhouette of a man riding horseback appeared upon the picturesque horizon.  "Look at that silhouette of a man riding horseback appearing upon this picturesque horizon," said the man with the horseshoe to the man without the horseshoe.  "It seems as though it's getting larger, too," said the man without the horseshoe to the man with the horseshoe.  Finally, the silhouette had blended into the face of a person; a person so average in stature, so normal in character, that it terrified the two coated men.  They began to ululate seeing him approach on his equally typical steed, but went silent when he had reached right besides their table.  "I am a cavalier wearing a gold scarf, and I also possess a possession.  I declare that the man without the horseshoe is to possess said possession."  Bemused by the thought of having something not had by the bluecoat, the redcoat spoke out loud: "I will possess this possession which you will me to possess.  What is such an object worthy of my specificity?"  The cavalier pulled a tan hat, with an American flag on the front of it and a Star Wars pin behind it.  The cavalier looked at the redcoat straight in the face.  "You—" he paused, "are heir and successor to the throne of Belgium.   His majesty has abdicated the throne, and thus, you are now King of Belgium."  The redcoat's jaw dropped, and his eyes swerved between the hat and the cavalier.  The bluecoat reflected this expression flawlessly onto his face as well.  The cavalier maintained his stern façade, but even his solemn look was clearly distraught by what he was announcing.  The silence broke upon the cavalier's queue: "I am to transport you to Brussels, your highness.  Come along."  The redcoat hopped upon the horse, and they were off, riding into the moribund sun.

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The man without the horseshoe was an able and benevolent ruler for the first few weeks after his coronation.  He consolidated his power with speed and efficiency unlike any contemporary would have imagined, especially from a man without a horseshoe.  He fostered economic growth, codified a new and just legal system, and crushed a communist uprising in Ghent.  His old partner was jealous, however.  No longer did their bartering apply, not so long as the Belgian throne was under the control of the redcoat.  Sure, the redcoat was very kind, even allowing the bluecoat a place in his royal court.  Still, this unsettled the man with the horseshoe, who was so accustomed to the balance of power that they had established so many moons ago.  How could the redcoat possess a thing?  Especially a thing not already possessed by him  The disruption had to be quelled, thought the bluecoat to himself.  What could he use to stop the redcoat?  The horseshoe, of course!  But what to do with it...he came to the realisation that the horseshoe was essentially useless in trying to dethrone the monarch of an industrialised country.  But what about an army?  The cavalier, of course!  The cavalier was upset by the redcoat: the king had reduced the cavalier's pay so that he could afford to build new hospitals.  Embittered by his salary's truncation, the cavalier began to plot against the monarch as well.  The two of them met at a café in Antwerp to discuss the details, and they decided on exiling the king to a faraway island in the Atlantic.

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Over the next few months, the redcoat's initial benevolence became more tyrannical and irrational.  As previously mentioned, the king wanted to build more hospitals.  Gradually, he continued to build hospitals, even as the supply of hospitals vastly outweighed the demand for them.  Homes, shops, offices, train tracks, gas stations, police departments, libraries, public parks, and museums were all demolished, levelled, and rebuilt as hospitals.  Even the royal palace was torn down for another hospital.  His reign also saw the revocation of personal liberties.  He revoked habeas corpus, and then decreed that all doctor were to be imprisoned without parole.  This abrupt change of character from the redcoat not only ruined the relatively decent storyline that was going on here, but with it also brought the hatred of the Belgian people.  With public support on their side, the man with the horseshoe and the cavalier decided to depose him.  

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On the morning of the ides of the twenty-second moon since their peace had begun, the conspirators decided to put their plot into action.  "Good morning, my king without the horseshoe," said the man with the horseshoe.  "Hello, sir man without the hat," the redcoat replied back.  This intensely irked the bluecoat, whose face turned a vibrant shade of red.  "Your royal highness, I have prepared a boat for you in the port city of Antwerp.  Would you like to make an endeavour upon it?"  The king was hesitant to go, for he had to attend the inauguration of many of the new hospitals which he had constructed.  "I suppose I could go," he mumbled, "but I'd like the boat to be converted into a naval hospital after I'm done with it."  "Your wish is my command!" exclaimed the man with the horseshoe.  And so they travelled by mule to the port of Antwerp.  The two came to the dock where the boat was being held.  The ship, a yacht of average size, was of the most pure in its magnificent nature.  The cavalier stood upon the front of the bow, facing the opening of the bay through which they would travel.  "Welcome, my most noble monarch," the cavalier announced, "to this noblest of ships!"  "Why, thank you!" replied the redcoat.  As the Belgian king led himself into his room, the two conspirators conspired over their conspiracy.  "What are we to do now?" asked the bluecoat.  "Shhh," hushed the cavalier.  "We shall sail across the Atlantic to a remote isle, as we concurred not too long ago." "Which isle?" the bluecoat wondered out loud.  "Any isle."

 

A few days passed, and they remained at sea with plenty of resources supplied by the bluecoat, such as corn, corned goods, corn accessories, and maize.   There was much corn, but little time to eat this corn.  They worked the whole day, and they were always tired.  The ocean's waves pummeled the bunch of them, and it terrified the three men.  The cavalier, who had become an impromptu mariner of the Atlantic, was increasingly bored of the whole affair; what good would come of deposing the man with the hat?  The journey seemed to be showing the worst of the bluecoated man with the horseshoe, who did little work and ate the corn rations like a glutton.  Somehow, only the best of the redcoated man without the horseshoe but with the hat was evident along the journey.  He was helpful, polite, and much more sane than the rest of Belgium had given him credit for.  After a week, it had become clear to the cavalier that the two had swapped their character traits entirely.  The cavalier schemed alone, preparing an antithesis to the plan which he had already made in secret with the man with the horseshoe.  He set his sights upon abandoning the bluecoat upon the island, and setting up the redcoat as a puppet of him.  That way, he thought, the real power of the Belgian throne would be his.  

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A blanket of thick fog nauseated their efforts towards navigating.  Still the boat continued towards the moribund sun upon the horizon, struggling to wrestle through a pantheon of competing waves.  While the bluecoat mulled around in the hull of the ship, the cavalier and redcoat laboured on deck, hoping the last vestiges of stars still visible might assist them in trying to get their constantly swerving direction stabilised again.  Just as they seemed to be regaining traction, a massive jolt sprang everything forwards.  The redcoat went flying several feet onto the ground besides the cavalier, kept in place by the wheel.  "Land!" joked the redcoat as he got up again, and the cavalier laughed with him.  The bluecoat broke the blip of nonchalance when he got into the room.  "Now's the time to do away with the man without the horseshoe!" the man with the horseshoe proclaimed to the deck, assuming that the redcoat was still in the hull.  "What?" yelled the redcoat, who stayed petrified for a moment as eyes darted around the floor.  "What of it?" the cavalier finally replied.  Through his voice, the bluecoat knew who the cavalier really intended to be stranded.

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The rain pelted down violently by this point.  If not already clear, the climax will occur very soon.  But back to the story: the rain deluged the deck, the thunder roared in all directions, and the bluecoat and cavalier were dead set on trying to strand each other upon the island.  The redcoat hid behind a barrel, terrified for his life.  At last, the man with the horseshoe made his move.  With all of his power, he threw his horseshoe at the cavalier.  The cavalier, who was standing right by the end of the bow, caught the horseshoe with his right hand.  But there was so much power contained in the horseshoe, that the cavalier was flung off of the ship and onto the small atoll below.  Quickly, the bluecoat rushed towards the steering wheel, and liberated the vessel from the coral traps.  The ship sailed away with all the speed possible eastward, and didn't turn back.  The two men without the horseshoe reconciled.  The man with the horseshoe was no longer in Belgium.

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