He loved horses. Fillies, Mares, Stallions, Foals, it didn't really matter. But when it came to his secret, he usually preferred Stallions, as he found they offered the best when it came time for him to delve into his hobby. And when he discovered a carnival had come to time, he thought it was the best time to check out the horse action and see if there was anything he could purchase, as he often picked out all the horses in his stables from either fairs or carnivals.
Strolling into the carnival, looking about and taking in all that was laid out before him, Bradley found himself disappointed that that there wasn't even one paddock set up and thinking maybe he'd wasted his time, he started to leave, but instead decided to give the carnival one more quick inspection.
"Who knows," he thought to himself. "Maybe they have the horses corralled somewhere were those entering cannot see them."
Strolling through the vendors, noting that nearly everyone appeared to be of Roma descent. Finding this interesting, Bradley thought about how the gypsy people supposedly loved to barter and getting a little excited, he saw that many of their caravans required horses to pull them.
Thinking, "Maybe, if they don't have horses on display, I can just buy one of theirs," Bradley continued to wander.
As he passed a couple of other people taking in the carnival sights, he almost stopped them asked if they had seen any horses, but changed his mind and continued. After strolling from one end of the carnival to the other and seeing no horses, but hearing them on a number of occasions, Bradley stopped and frustrated, glanced about.
Seeing a gypsy approaching, he flagged the man down and when the man was within talking distance, Bradley said, "Sir. I am wondering if you could help me."
A grin spread over the gypsy's face and as he stopped before Bradley, he casually asked, "What is it I could be helping you with, Bradley?" as he took a tobacco poke from out of his vest and began to roll himself a cigarette, still smiling as if they were two good friends greeting each other after a short time away.
Unaware that the man had addressed him by his name, Bradley watched as the man rolled his fag and blinking a couple times, he coughed and said, "I was wondering if you could tell me if you had any horses."
Still grinning, the man finished rolling his tab and setting it so it hung loosely in his mouth, the gypsy asked, "Sure we do. The finest threaded stock. We use the to haul our wagons. To help us set the tents you see just behind me," he gestured to a couple large tents Bradley had missed. "And we use them for other needs, should they arise."
Nodding, Bradley asked, "I was wondering if I might buy one?"
The grin on the man's face grew a bit bigger as suddenly his cigarette lit itself. Taking a deep drag, the man explained, "Surely we cannot sell a fine gypsy horse to the likes of you."
"Why not?"
Another drag on his straight and then the man explained, "You'll be wanting a Stallion. That I can already see. What I can also see is what you like to do. And that, among my people, is considered a form of cruelty, Bradley."
Suddenly spooked and realising that the gypsy knew his name, Bradley took a couple steps back and asked, "How do you know my name?"
Dropping the spent fag and crushing it with his boot, the man casually replied, "We know a lot about you, Bradley. You could say we've been expecting you. In fact, you could go so far to say that we've been expecting you to turn up so that we could give you a gift."
The fear building, Bradley looked about and thought about bolting, but finding himself riveted to the spot, he listened as the man continued.
"Aye. A gift. You see, as I said before, what you do we consider cruel. So we are going to open your eyes. Every time that you engage in your "hobby", your eyes will open a little more. Will you learn or will you fade from this world? That is entirely up to you." and turning, the gypsy muttered a couple incoherent words, dropped something on the ground and than walked away.
Blinking, Bradley sputtered, "Now wait just a minute," but than he realised that he'd lost the gypsy man in the crowd. Glancing down, he spied what the man had dropped.
"It's horse hair," he thought as he stooped down and picked up what had been dropped, but than noticed it was also a couple other things. Unable to identify what these other things were, Bradley dropped them and unaware that they stuck to his hands, clothes and shoes as they drifted back to the ground, he scanned the crowds, looking for the man he had just been speaking to.
Still unable to see the gypsy man, Bradley felt a shiver come over him and suddenly no longer wanting to be at the carnival, he turned and quickly pushed his way back through the crowds and left back through the entrance.