By the way he said “secrets of the universe” I could tell he’d capitalised the first letters of the key words. This piqued my interest.
“I’m intrigued. What Secrets of The Universe do they reveal to you?” I asked.
“You know how most stars move across the sky in curves but some do little hoops?”
I nodded.
“Well those are balls of rock and gas, like Earth, and they go round the sun, whereas the other stars are other suns that are really far away.”
I was staggered by such a statement. “Yes I know. I learnt about it when I was two and so old enough to stay up late and watch Extraordinary Science with Phil Burchell. I was hoping for something like the answer to why there’s more matter than anti-matter in the observable universe.”
He looked confused for a moment, then leant over and whispered something to a nearby horse. Next he presented his ear to the mouth of the horse who whispered something in return.
“Did you know horse chestnuts are hedgehog eggs?” he recited.
“No, they’re not.” I said.
“I think my horses would know…” he began, but was interrupted by his horses laughing hysterically.
I turned to leave but he stopped me with an entreating look upon his face.
“Have a ride on one of my horses around the estate. You’ve got a powerful mind, I can tell. You may even start hearing a thing or two.”
“OK, but I’ve never ridden a horse before,” I sighed.
“Good. Good. Here take Bucephalus; he’s got a calm temperament.”
He led a black-coated horse out of the stable and attached a saddle onto its back. I hesitantly got on board and the horse began trotting away.
“Aren’t you going to lead the way?” I called out to Mr McRumpleton.
“No, no. Bucephalus knows the way and I’ve got to have a word with the rest of the herd.”
After riding over several fields I decided I’d quite like to return as I had a long car journey back to SJIS headquarters.
“Would you be so kind as to turn back now Bucephalus?” I said as I recalled the cowboys saying in numerous westerns. I’m pretty sure that’s what they say.
“My name’s not Bucephalus. Do you really think I’d be that pretentious? I’m Wallace,” said the horse with a charming Scottish accent.
“Oh, I’m sorry. Wait… Does this mean I have The Gift?”
“No, of course you don’t. There’s no such thing as horse whisperers. For all his idiotic ways, Theodore McRumpleton is a brilliant geneticist. All the horses here have been spliced with human-style voice boxes.”
“Then why didn’t you say anything when I was interviewing him?”