“Your desk is in the same spot, ” Pony told the governor. “May I help you upstairs, sir?”
“What’s this?” The governor spied the minihorse and was instantly smitten. “What a pretty little fellow you are! And such a handsome harness with a nice little leather handle, and my goodness, he even has shoes!”
“He has to have shoes or he’ll slide all over the hardwood floor, ” Regina impatiently explained as the First Lady dashed downstairs to hide the trivets. “But he’s worthless. He won’t do a thing I say, so I certainly can’t see what good he’s going to do, Papa. Come here!” Regina clapped her hands at the indifferent tiny horse. “You idiot, get here right this minute or I’m sending you back and you can just go live with some other blind person who probably lives in a dump and has no household staff or limousines or cooks or important people visiting!”
“Perhaps you’re not saying the right words to him, ” the governor considered as he moved closer to Trip and patted his thick red mane. “Sit, ” he said.
Trip did nothing.
“Fetch. ” The governor tossed an imaginary stick across the Oriental rug. “Well, leave it then. ”
Trip did.
“Sir, ” Pony said. “What would you like for your midafternoon snack?”
“I believe two eggs and a piece of toast would be nice, ” the governor replied as his magnified cloudy eye scanned his new guide horse.
“Over or under?” Pony politely asked.
“Under, ” the governor decided, and Trip suddenly crawled under an inlaid mahogany Federal card table.
“Now isn’t that strange, ” the governor commented as he got down on his knees and tried to coax Trip back out. “I think there’s something wrong with this, horse. Or maybe you’ve confused the poor thing and intimidated him with your rude voice, ” he said to Regina.
“Right, ” she said sarcastically, and Trip backed out from under the table, turned right, and started walking across the ballroom in his Velcro-fastened tennis shoes. “Everything’s always my fault. I’m so sick and tired of being blamed for whatever goes wrong. I’m an excellent supervisor, and it’s the retarded horse who’s screwing up, not me… !”
“Wait, ” the governor snapped at his daughter, because he had heard quite enough.
Trip stopped.
“Sir?” Pony was back. “Would you like hollandaise sauce, butter, salt, pepper, or anything else on your eggs?”
Crimm paused to check on his submarine, which had been blissfully still in the water since he had stopped eating Major Trader’s sweets. Well, maybe he didn’t need such a bland diet anymore. Dear Lord, wouldn’t that be a blessing?
“I might even try ham again, ” he thought out loud.
“I can put ham on the eggs, as well, ” Pony suggested as Trip continued to walk across the ballroom, his driverless harness flopping.
“Well, why not?” the governor happily said. “Load up!”
Trip stopped in his tracks and then headed toward the elevator.
“Look at that, ” Pony marveled. “That horse is headed right toward the… where’s he going? He’s going to the… ”
“Lift!” the governor interrupted with excitement, finishing Pony’s sentence and using the English word for elevator, because he preferred all things English and always had.
Trip stopped and lifted a hoof.
“I believe there’s a pattern developing, ” the governor announced as he went to Trip and patted his head. “You can put your foot down, little fellow. ”
Trip didn’t move.
“Seems like to me he only listens to one or two words, ” Pony observed. “Load up, ” he said to Trip.
The horse lowered his hoof and headed to the elevator again. Intrigued and challenged, Pony followed and pushed the down button. The doors opened and Trip boarded.
“We’ll just ride along with him and see what he does, ” the governor said, enjoying himself more than he had in quite a long time.
He and Pony rode the elevator with Trip, and when the doors opened on the kitchen level of the mansion, the minihorse stood still, waiting.
“Let me see, ” the governor pondered. “I suppose the opposite of load up would be unload. Unload, ” he said to Trip.