Bullet Work

by Steve O'Brien

  Morning works were in progress. Some would be official works, some in company, and others galloped and cantered around the track as the daily exercise. Jake wasn’t at the barn, so Dan wandered over to the break.

  Those who loved this game could stand for hours and watch horses go by. With experience, the exceptional athletes could be spotted much the same way one could watch a group of boys playing basketball and rank-order their ability. It was called “watching their action”—how they moved over the ground, how eager they were to be on the track. Some would show reluctance; some would be so full of themselves they would drag the rider around the track, throwing their heads in a plea for a loosened grip.

  Exercise riders had been given instructions for each mount, whether that was a canter just to stretch the legs, a two-minute mile clip, or a bullet work. Horse and rider had to cooperate, or it was a constant tug of war between man and animal. Man had the leverage; the animal had its will. On good days, they fought to a draw.

  He spotted Beth standing on the left side of the break, leaning against the rail. Her tiny frame mirrored the posts holding up the rail, with her blonde hair swaying slightly in the breeze. She was looking up the track, past the clocker’s tower, probably watching one of her charges go through its exercise regime.

  Riders going past made sure to catch a good glimpse, and those going to and from the track gave her an in-depth once over. Some shouted to her or at least in her direction. She ignored them, keeping her eyes on the long backstretch.

  “Who you got out today?” Dan asked.

  She shifted her weight and looked over, brightening. “Tom Crater’s mare, Breaking Dawn. Just giving her a little air.” This meant a moderate workout, just to aid in conditioning. “She’s a tough customer. Doesn’t like working in the mornings. Would rather sleep in.”

  “Mare’s done all right. She runs well in the afternoons.” Dan had cashed a bet on her a few times. He knew the ins and outs of Jake’s barn, and even though he didn’t have an ownership interest in the horse, she was on the same team.

  “Yeah, some of these characters only want to race. Problem is, unless we get them sharpened in the mornings, they won’t have any legs for the afternoons.”

  “Makes you wish you could talk to them, explain the purpose.”

  She smiled and looked him in the eye. “Oh, we communicate. Believe me. May not be with words, but after a while they know the drill. They may not like it, and they can be stubborn as hell, but they know. Never want to take the chip off their shoulder. Want them to have that edge, but like dancing, somebody’s got to lead and somebody’s got to follow.”

  “Who’s who?”

  This raised a chuckle. “We lead.” Beth gazed out over the track, watching for Breaking Dawn. “Well, most of the time anyway.”

  Dan gave her a quick glance, then looked up the track. “Which one?”

  “Emilio’s got a green shirt under the vest.”

  He found them in the middle of the track, just out of the turn, pounding toward them. “What’s he doing? A two-minute clip?”

  “S’posed to. Hell, he may have to go to the whip to get that out of her.”

  They watched in silence as the mare came toward them. From straight on, it was difficult to determine how fast she was moving, but Emilio bounced up and down, indicating that he was working somewhat to raise her interest level.

  Dan spotted the man coming down the stairs of the clocker’s tower that adjoined the track twenty yards from the break. He was the man he met at the trainer’s meeting, the one who nearly broke his hand. The farrier. What’s a farrier doing in the clocker’s tower?

  The man approached, and Dan caught his eye, or at least part of his eye. Most of his attention was on Beth’s backside. “Ginny. Right?” He didn’t bother to offer a hand to shake.

  Ginny nodded. “Dan.” He kept moving past, giving one last glance at Beth’s backside.

  Breaking Dawn moved past them, and Beth’s head followed the arch into the turn. She turned and saw Ginny moving away, then focused her eyes back on the horse.

  “Guy’s bad news,” she said.

  “Ginny?”

  “Yep.”

  “What’s his deal?”

  “Stay away from him,” she said, still focusing on her horse, halfway through the turn.

  “No, seriously. Guy’s a farrier isn’t he?”

  “All I know is what I hear. He’s trouble.”

  “Make sure you never shake hands with him. He nearly crushed all the bones in my hand,” Dan said, trying to get a laugh out of her.

  She wasn’t going for any of it. “Heard he beat a guy to death down at Louisiana Downs.”

  “If that’s true, why isn’t he in jail?”

  “Who knows? Maybe he had a crafty lawyer like you get him off.” She looked over, not smiling. Two horses working in company blistered past them near the rail. Both were drawn to the action and competition. One jockey pumped his arms furiously, trying to get his horse to take the lead over his counterpart. They watched them spin into the turn, then Beth turned back.

  “He’s been ruled off two or three other tracks, I’ve been told. Threw a jockey through a plate glass window once. Man’s crazy. I mean it—if there’s a problem, that guy is always in the neighborhood. Been hanging around the barn a little too much for my comfort.”

  “Jake knows what he’s doing,” he said.

  “Yeah, maybe. I’m telling you, stay away from that guy. He’s not your friend. The guy creeps me out.”

  Chapter 25

  Kyle leaned forward and hooked his toes into that familiar position around the stirrup. He wrapped horse hair from the mane around his index finger and prepared for the break. He would time it perfectly to be on his toes, leaning over the horse’s neck. The acceleration would balance him, and his forward position would keep him from falling back and yanking the reins. Men who worked as gate hands were scrambling in and around the starting gate.

  “Two out.”

  More shifting and movement could be heard behind him. One gate hand was standing on the foot ledge inside the stall with Kyle and Aly Dancer. He held the horse’s bridle and unwrapped the leather strap that had run through the bridle to lead the horse into the starting gate stall. On the break he would release the horse, hopefully in a straight course.

  “One out.”

  The clanging of the stalls slamming shut told him they were all in. Jack Meeks shouted “No, no, no.” He was trying to steady his mount, Arestie, in the six hole. Meek’s plea was directed toward the starter, who stood on a high platform just inside the rail.

  “Whoa, whoa,” said jockey Jim Dagens, in chorus with the gate hand next to him. Mystic Prose in the number one shoot had reared back. Dagens’ foot had come out, and he was desperately trying to hook it back in the stirrup.

  The starter would try to accommodate the jockey’s requests, but when he sensed them all standing well, he would hit the button. The magnetic field holding the front of the gates closed would be cut, and the two piece gate would spring open. Kyle sensed the break and leaned forward up on his toes.

  “They’re all standing well…and they’re off.… Mystic Prose broke well on the inside.… Undaunted Cem moves up from the far outside to contest the early pace. Magnet Time is third.… Aly Dancer is placed well inside in fourth…with Arestie just outside her in fifth.… Big Bad Bess is half a length back, holding sixth. Prized Piece is next…two back to Gypsum Doll, and Yellow Bellow trails the field.”

  Kyle steadied Aly Dancer. On the break Prized Piece bolted left out of the four hole and slammed into Aly Dancer, nearly knocking her sideways and into the two horse, Gypsum Doll.

  Dagens got Mystic Prose away well from the rail. Aly Dancer didn’t break stride but absorbed a good blow. Prized Piece got the worst of it. Aly Dancer straightened well and took up chase.

  Kyle looked over his left shoulder and guided Aly Dancer to the rail. He gathered the reins and held position. Magnet Time was alon
gside, and another horse was outside him. Kyle couldn’t see who it was, and it didn’t matter for the time being.

  He had two horses in front of him and a good spot on the rail. He could wait it out from here. Kyle decided to let the front runners extend themselves a bit and gave Aly Dancer a light tug on the reins. She pulled hard on the reins and pinned her ears back. She wanted to run.

  As the leaders moved from a one-length lead to two, Kyle drifted Aly Dancer half a lane right to avoid the dirt spray coming from the front runners. If he stayed directly behind the leader, the spray would hit his mount in the face. This could annoy and frustrate any horse, but with a young horse like Aly Dancer, it could be a negative experience that might affect her racing career.

  Kyle had to restrain her but also keep the horse’s courage and confidence up. They were going pretty good up front for the first quarter. Kyle calculated it was just a few ticks too fast for these types. Unless one of the horses in this field was a superstar, the race would come back to him. He pulled down one of his pair of goggles under his chin, leaving three clean pair stacked over on another.

  He felt Aly Dancer relax and get a good rhythm.

  He waited.

  “Mystic Prose and Undaunted Cem are heads apart…the first quarter in 22 and 4.… Aly Dancer tracks them in third.… Arestie is fourth on the outside…Magnet Time between horses…break of three back to Yellow Bellow, Big Bad Bess, and Prized Piece in eighth.… Gypsum Doll follows.”

  Kyle watched the horses in front of him. He was looking for any evidence that one was tiring. As the race stood now, he was in a strong stalking position as they neared the far turn. If the horse on the rail tired, she would start to drift away from the rail. This would be Kyle’s preference as he could sneak past the leader on the rail, and everyone else would have to go wide to catch him.

  If Undaunted Cem started to drift out, he could split the frontrunners, but he’d have to get there first as the horse outside him would be going for the same spot. The worst case would be if both horses ahead of him maintained pace. In that case he’d be blocked like a pick in basketball; the horses outside him would get by the leaders, and he’d be trapped inside.

  Kyle looked over at Arestie for any clue. Was the horse laboring? Was the jockey urging? To his disappointment, the horse was moving well, and the jockey was sitting chilly. They started creeping ever closer to the frontrunners.

  “The leaders move into the turn…45 and 3 for the half.… Undaunted Cem and Mystic Prose continue to lead.… Aly Dancer moving well…Arestie outside her says, “I’m going to get a piece of this”.… Magnet Time is losing ground. Big Bad Bess moves along the rail.… Yellow Bellow keeping pace…Prized Piece is fading.… Gypsum Doll is starting to make a move from the back of the field.”

  Damn it. The frontrunners weren’t giving it up. He could move to the rail, but if he was shut off, so were his chances. Splitting the frontrunners would be dangerous, and, given their position, they could all end up in a heap on the track. Kyle and Aly Dancer edged closer to the leaders.

  He saw Meeks look over from Arestie. Arrogant prick. He knew Kyle had a lot of horse and was in a bind. Kyle looked back to his left and saw a horse beginning to move into striking distance on the rail. He still had enough room to take the rail, but he would have to decide fast. If he let the other horse advance along the rail and get position, he couldn’t move left down on top of him.

    

  Jake slapped his racing form on the rail in front of him. “Shit. He’s got a ton of horse and no place to go. Find someplace to run.” He and Dan stood on the upper level of the mezzanine, giving them a view of the entire track. Jake held a small set of binoculars up to his face with one hand. “C’mon, Kyle, get her outside, God damn it!” Jake yelled.

  “Out of the turn, Arestie is moving well on the outside.… Undaunted Cem puts his head in front.… Aly Dancer is fourth.… Big Bad Bess moves along the rail…and Gypsum Doll is moving powerfully on the outside.”

    

  Kyle saw Arestie start to make her move around Undaunted Cem. He looked back to his left, barely enough room.

  Fuck it, that’s not Seattle Slew up ahead. Now or never.

  Kyle threw a cross with the reins and yanked Aly Dancer’s head to the left. He shouted, “Haaah,” loosened the reins, and ground on the horse’s neck with his knuckles. Aly Dancer responded to the lane shift, then seemed to balk as if to say, Are you serious? Kyle scrubbed her neck with knuckles, and she knew he meant business.

  Kyle saw Dagens on Mystic Prose peek over his left shoulder at Aly Dancer. He turned back and kept riding.

  He’s not going to budge off the rail, Kyle thought. There wasn’t enough room to get through.

  There was no place to go.

    

  “Come on, kid,” Jake muttered. He’d laid all but $200 of the remaining loan from Ginny on Aly Dancer—all on the nose. She had all the ability in the world, especially against a bunch of maidens. Running well wouldn’t cut it. Jake needed a win.

  “Come on, Kyle. Find a lane,” Dan yelled as if he was hoping his positive vibe would counteract Jake’s defeatist tone. “Come on, baby, get room.”

  “Arestie surges to the lead.… Undaunted Cem tries to keep pace.… .Mystic Prose on the inside…and Gypsum Doll moves four wide into the stretch….”

    

  Kyle hugged the rail and waited. Even if he got through, the horses on the outside were moving well and unimpeded to the finish line.

  Just then it happened.

  It was the slightest move, almost imperceptible, but Mystic Prose drifted slightly to the right. Could have been a result of tiring through the fast early fractions or the distraction of seeing horses outside her moving well, but she drifted.

  Kyle pulled his whip and gave Aly Dancer a full crack. She responded and quickly filled the gap when Mystic Prose drifted off the rail. She wasn’t through the hole yet. Kyle scrubbed with his knuckles “C’mon, c’mon, haaaah!”

    

  Jake had a poor angle to see the shift, but years of experience told him there was a hole on the rail. “Get her through there.” He slammed the racing form against the rail. “Get through there.” Suddenly, she had a chance. A ton of ground to make up, but she had a chance.

  “Gypsum Doll moves outside Arestie, and the two of them are kicking on.… Undaunted Cem is third.… Mystic Prose is losing touch with the top ones…Aly Dancer trying to get through on the rail.”

    

  Mystic Prose kept drifting slightly to the right. Kyle flashed the whip on the right side of Aly Dancer’s head. Keep her focused, get through the hole. Dagens tried to move Mystic Prose left to hold the rail, but he was fighting a tiring horse.

  Kyle could feel Aly Dancer dig down and accelerate. “That’s it, girl. C’mon.” Aly Dancer moved past Mystic Prose, but she was still a length and a half behind Arestie and Gypsum Doll, who were moving well on the outside.

  Kyle re-gripped the reins and started driving forward on Aly Dancer’s neck. He turned the whip in his hand and cracked the horse on the right flank.

  They still had work to do.

  “Aly Dancer moves up to third along the rail.… Gypsum Doll has a head in front on the far outside.… Arestie battles on.”

  Kyle kept pumping with his arms and driving. The horse was giving him everything she had. They were catching the frontrunners, but there was less than a sixteenth of a mile to go. Kyle put his head down and pushed. He flashed the whip past Aly Dancer’s head. No need to abuse the animal; she was already running her guts out.

  “Arestie leads on the outside…Aly Dancer driving strongly on the inside…Gypsum Doll third…Arestie…Aly Dancer…these two to the wire…Arestie…Aly Dancer…at the finish, it’s….”

    

  “Get up, get up, get up.” Dan pounded on the rail as the horses hit the wire.

  “She got ’em,” Jak
e said, throwing his fists in the air. “Yes!”

  Voices from the crowd around him questioned the finish.

  “Too close.”

  “Outside horse held on,” one said confidently.

  “I don’t know,” one muttered.

  Jake had seen enough races; he knew. He started moving through the crowd toward the track. Jake was sure she got up to win. Cashing the ticket would give him breathing room for a few days, until he could get more runners to the track. Yes, she won.

  She had to have won.

  Chapter 26

  Kyle drove Aly Dancer through the finish line. He thought he got it. He extended his legs and stopped pushing. A few strides past the finish line, he looked to his right at Jack Meeks on Arestie. He could see it in Jack’s eyes. Aly Dancer won. It might be some freaky head bob, but they both knew Aly Dancer was moving best at the wire. Kyle let out a whoop, slapped Aly Dancer on neck, and rode her out. They got home first.

    

  Dan watched Aly Dancer ease up after the finish line. She was flying at the end. He was breathless and spent. Aly Dancer looked like she could go around the track again. She was full of herself, prancing and nodding. All the time, money, energy, and interest in these animals—and this moment was what it was all about.

  “Hell, yes,” he shouted, throwing his racing form in the air.

  That was a killer move she made down the stretch. Not only was she talented, but she showed the will to win. This was the one he’d dreamed of.

  In his revelry he didn’t notice that Jake had left him to go to the winner’s circle. It didn’t matter. When your first time starter won like she did, you were entitled to jump and shout and generally make a fool of yourself. She had won, right? At least he thought she had. Jake was sure. Damn right, she won, he thought as he made his way to the winner’s circle.

  Dan hustled down the steps to the apron. He couldn’t contain his smile, and pride nearly burst from his chest as he zigzagged through the crowd to the winner’s circle. Win or lose, she had performed. She fought through the stretch. Despite a troubled trip, she showed ability and fire.