by Leigh Hutton
Ebony was frozen from her fingertips to her toes and drenched through her raincoat. Another minute in the ring, and she was sure she’d turn into a human icicle. Monster held his head high, his ears pinned back and eyes partly closed against the searing wind, as he soldiered around the course, the only horse to go clean. Annika was happy, with several thousand in her pocket from the win. Johnny was miserable and took coaxing with treats to get him out of the barn. Ebony decided to scratch him until the weather cleared.
The sun was out by day four and the rings had never looked better. Monster indeed had created quite the buzz, and Ebony was often pursued by groups of school children, teens and adults alike, to get a photo with the horse and her signature on their souvenir program.
Johnny struggled in his first class: 1.40m, on the Friday. But the barn was all celebrations as Abia took the win on one of her young horses, beating Marcus by half a second. After handing his horse over to his groom, Marcus disappeared on his mini bike and made a beeline for the bar.
One of the biggest classes of the show was the $400,000 1.60m Grand Prix, on the Saturday. Ebony was keen to give it a go, but after discussing it with Marcus, decided to focus instead on the $40,000 1.50-meter Speed Class, staged in the International ring on the final day of the National. It was also a good bet considering most of the best in the world would be using their best horses in the bigger money classes, making competition near impossible for Ebony and Monster. It was still early in the season, and she still had the North American next month to get into the Grand Prix’s and the derbies and hopefully qualify for the World’s.
Marcus and Saudi finished third in the Grand Prix to Luther and Lutweig and Hans JÄger and Schönheit Z.
Winter Shoalhaven, with her long, blonde ponytail flying out behind her, was a surprise in the derby, coming second and beating all of the Europeans and Americans, with the exception of the French and European number one, Andre Dufour, and his incredible Selle Francais gelding, Paris. Alessandro de Bravo from Brazil flew into third. Abia and Samurai were a stylish fourth, Nana Geibler and her glorious Russian Warmblood mare, Anna, fifth. Mantina and Poseidon, who seemed to be rallying back thanks to some improved riding on her part, as she and Marcus had been spending more time together — came sixth, followed by Dougie and Octavia.
Ebony decided to enter Johnny in the derby at the last minute, convinced that, given the chance in front of the huge crowd, she could get the big horse over the Devil’s Dyke. He truly surprised Marcus and got around with only one rail and a decent time, good enough for seventh and third Canadian.
The grand stand was again packed on Sunday and the sky blue with stripes of white cloud when Ebony and Monster trotted out under the bell tower and into the International ring for their speed class round. Even Dallas was there to watch, from the corporate box of one of his team’s sponsors. He’d promised to find Ebony after her class, to meet the crew and ‘congratulate her on her win’.
Ebony could never ride the international ring too many times. There was something about the excitement and the sound of the crowd, the lavishness of the jumps, the grand bell tower and the opulence of Spruce Meadow’s splaying all around that made a rider feel super human, and horses like Monster rise to the challenge.
Today, all other sounds were drowned out by the swoosh of air past her ears as she and Monster tore around the course, killing fences and taking names. Monster was an incredible speed horse; quick, handy and sure-footed. It was like being back in the pony jumpers as she urged the spirited little horse on, letting him have his head and go at his chosen, break-neck pace. He revelled in the freedom and practically turned himself inside out to get over the fences without touching a rail. He had such a fiery heart; her own burst for him. He was so different to Gallant, but so incredible in his own way. Gallant had looked after Ebony, but now, it was as if Ebony had been tasked with keeping this fireball on track. It was exhilarating and she could feel herself growing as a rider. And as a person.
‘Ebony Scott Harris and Monster,’ the announcer boomed. ‘Across the line in a blistering one minute and forty!’ The crowd roared, foghorns blared. Ebony and Monster cantered in a circle around the towering, red brick wall jump, Ebony patting his neck hard and beaming in her helmet.
‘This local pair was the last to go, folks!’ The announcer continued. ‘Their time was fast … a quarter of a second FASTER than previous class leader, Trey Taylor and De Ja Vu! ’
An eruption from the crowd.
‘He’s a small horse and she’s just eighteen but they haven’t let it stop them!’ Cheers all around. ‘May I present your winners of this year’s Speed Class — Ebony Scott Harris, and Monster!’
The pair galloped through the next month and the rest of the Summer Series, claiming two more major wins and injecting a serious amount of cash into Annika’s bank account. Annika stayed away and was spotted only on occasion, making her way from Mr. Prince’s corporate box to his BMW, to the exclusive shops at Spruce, and back.
Because of Monster’s efforts and improvement over the summer, Ebony easily qualified to be selected for the Canadian team for the World’s. She would be on the long list, courtesy of their results at Spruce, but it was the team announcement that she was now agonizing over. It was as if everything in her career, her entire life, had boiled down to this moment; this was it, make or break. She’d done everything she could, but, again, her life and the lives of her horses were in the hands of somebody else. Would the selectors share the same faith in her that the Canadian public seemed to have developed?
It wouldn’t be long until she would know.
The news came in a phone call from Marcus. Ebony was hiding in her room at Annika’s, drawing an intricate pencil sketch of Monster charging through the rain at the National. She couldn’t bring herself to look online, or to check her emails. She didn’t want to know, because once she got the official word, that was it; no more hoping she might make it. But, then, Ebony thought, I could make the team … there could be hope, right? No, no hope. And she didn’t want to know.
Ebony pressed too hard on the next stroke, breaking the fine head of her pencil and smudging the curve of Monster’s eye. Nooo!
She jumped out of her skin, and dropped her broken pencil when her mobile rang, from the depths of her handbag. She got the call just before it could go to Message bank.
‘Ebony?’
‘Yep … I’m here.’
‘Have you heard?’ Marcus asked. A car door slammed shut in the background and a girl was laughing. Sounded a lot like Mantina. Ebony’s heart sank.
‘I’m sorry,’ Marcus said. ‘I know how much you needed this. Will you be in later?’ The girl called Marcus’s name, and Ebony was sure, by the coy, teasing tone, that it was Mantina. She would have made the British team, of course she’d make it, and even if she didn’t, she had the cash to go anyway, but probably wouldn’t care either way. Or appreciate it. The unfairness of it all burned at Ebony’s skin.
Marcus would be going for Canada, along with Abia and Winter and Luther and Trey; all the usuals. She didn’t even need to look. She was a fool for thinking the selectors would take a chance on her.
She ended the call and dropped her phone on the floor, ripped her sketch of Monster in half, and crumpled down to the carpet, clamping both hands to her chest, to keep the raw force of the dark, deep despair and frustration from splitting her in two. I can’t breathe. She curled into a ball and lay on the floor, panting for breath. I can’t breathe! She didn’t feel the rage of anger, like she had so many times before. This was more like panic, like her time was running out.
Would this be it?
Would this be the end of her rather short and lacklustre career? She’d let herself down, she’d let Cecile down, and their horses. Ruined their plans for their future and wasted all of the effort and resources Cecile had spent on her, which was the worst bit by far.
It was all over. Just like that.
She might as well die.
She couldn’t remember ever smelling orange juice and fresh flowers in her dreams, though. They were all she could smell. And Dallas, of course. She could definitely smell him, too.
It was soft underneath her, and she snuggled into her bed.
‘Ebony?’ Dallas said, sitting down beside her and resting a hand on her forehead. ‘Annika told me about the team. I’m so sorry.’
Annika? Good God … Can’t I just go back to sleep?
‘Hey,’ Dallas said, stroking her hair. ‘There will be other shows.’
‘In four years?’ Ebony cracked an eye to scan the room. It was too bright. She shut it again. ‘Me and the boys will be on the streets in less time than that, the way Annika spends the money!’
‘So dramatic,’ Dallas said. ‘Can you open your eyes, please?’
Ebony groaned, and pulled her duvet over her head. ‘I’m sorry,’ she said from under the blanket. ‘I’m not going to be very good company.’
‘Can you try to eat something?’
‘Can’t.’
Dallas sighed, and laid down next to her. ‘You can still make Rio, ya know.’
‘This isn’t like hockey Dallas, you can’t just start playing better and get picked up. You need horses, incredible horses. And experience, at the world level, before they’ll pick you for an event like the Olympics.’
‘So, do the shows around here. Build your name that way. You’re already famous.’
‘I’m only famous because I’m dating you,’ she said. ‘And in regards to my name, I can’t start a barn without clients and why would someone train with me when they can go to a rider who’s won a medal? I know you understand.’
‘Yeah …’ He yanked the blanket off her head. ‘And I also know that Ebony Scott Harris isn’t the type of chick to let something like this keep her down. You’re a fighter.’
‘I don’t feel like I’ve got much fight left.’
‘As if yours could ever run out!’ He pulled her up and into his arms. ‘Your drawings are amazing, by the way.’ He set her sketchpad down beside her, and the picture she’d been drawing of Monster. It was still crumpled, but somehow, he’d managed to fit it back together, and seal the tear with tape. ‘I’ve also brought you food and flowers, what more could a girl want?’ He kissed her forehead. ‘Then we’re going for a jog. It is your birthday after all, and you need to clear your head.’
‘Oh, God!’ Ebony groaned.
‘The big one-nine. Can’t wait to take you out for dinner tonight to celebrate.’
‘Wait — OMGOD!’ she squealed. ‘I forgot your birthday, didn’t I?’
‘I knew you’d remember sooner or later.’ He grinned.
‘I’m a terrible girlfriend!’ She buried her head in her pillow. ‘I’m so sorry. I’ll get you something as soon as I can.’
‘Just make it up to me,’ he said, pulling her up off the bed. ‘Let’s go for a jog.’
‘I’d call you crazy if I hadn’t just forgotten your birthday. I do not run.’
‘You do now.’ He kissed her on the lips, before handing her a take-away cup full of orange juice. ‘It’ll be good training for your career.’
Ebony rang in sick to work. Then she dialled Winnie, to ask if she could ride Monster and Johnny for a day or two. She just couldn’t face them, not just yet, especially when Mantina and all the others would be there to rub her failure in her face.
She cracked on the second day, however, and had to go visit Monster, missing him way too much. After dinner, and after the sun had set, Ebony drove to the barn, parked a ways down the driveway and snuck in quietly, as to not alert any of the grooms. Monster was laying down, asleep. He didn’t stand when she entered his stall, just nuzzled her gently, happy to see her, and let her lay down against his belly in his shavings.
If Dallas hadn’t called twenty minutes later to remind her of their early morning run, she would have fallen asleep with Monster.
The next morning, Dallas arrived at Annika’s at 6.30am, just as he had every day since finding Ebony on her floor. He helped her suit up in her black spandex pants, windbreaker jacket and the new, fluoro green running shoes he’d bought for her. Then the pair headed out and onto the streets of Calgary, down Princess Drive, across the ‘man bridge’ over the highway, through a children’s park and past row upon row of houses that looked just like Annika’s.
Ebony’s legs burned. Her chest ached from the effort, and she had a stitch in her side. Her hands were on her hips, and she was about to slow to a walk, when Dallas yelled to ‘keep pushing’. She did, and was surprised to find that she got another wind. She managed to keep Dallas in sight all the way down to the river. He walked with her from there, and down the footpath towards the CBD. They chatted and joked. It was casual and crisp in the early morning air. It was refreshing to work different muscles and get out amongst a different world to the one she’d been so absorbed in for such a long time. But once they were finished, she always longed for the barn, and her horses. With the exception of Mantina, Dougie and a few of the bitchier grooms, no one gave her trouble about missing out on the World’s.
As the days ticked by and Dallas and Ebony continued their early morning adventures, Ebony found herself studying the houses they passed. The people they saw. She would never have said it aloud, but Ebony started to see the beauty in the suburbs. The uniformity that she’d found so stifling, she imagined for some, could be reassuring, comforting even. She took in the cookie-cutter houses, the shiny cars parked in the driveways; their residents mostly with the same routine of leaving for work and arriving home, and she started to sense the community here.
A man called out to his neighbour over their front fence, to say hello and ask how he was. A group of elderly ladies helped each other down their sidewalk, arms linked, chatting about their last game of bingo.
She and Dallas passed plenty of other joggers and walkers, many with dogs, some with prams. She began to recognise faces and even found herself expecting to pass that middle-aged lady in black who always smiled, or the old man with the Jack Russell, who tipped his hat. These people found happiness here, they were happy in ‘the burbs’. She supposed it wasn’t so bad, still not her scene, but not horrible, either.
Back in her world, and Mantina and Dougie had finally headed home to England and California respectively, to prepare for the World’s, and for Mantina to show at Hickstead.
Winnie filled Ebony in on the latest gossip, even though Ebony was walking much quicker towards her tack room and nearly out of earshot. Once safely inside, she collapsed down on her trunk.
‘’Ave you seen Mees Scott Harris?’ Winnie asked, shuffling inside.
Ebony laughed. ‘No, Her Heinous left recently for a holiday in Europe with Mr. Prince.’
Winnie laughed, and clapped her hands. ‘So, what ees the plan?’ She stared intently at Ebony. ‘We are doing thee Rocky Mountain Show Jumping shows, si? And, Thunderbird, of course?’
‘I can’t wait for the Royal West,’ Abia said, stepping into the doorway and leaning against the frame, arms crossed. ‘But, you know,’ Abia said, narrowing her clear, dark brown eyes at Ebony. ‘I’ve heard that you were seriously considered for the WEG team, and you never know what will happen. Trey is the reserve and he’s always having health issues with his horses; De Ja Vu is on regular hock injections and only just passed the vet check for his last show. And Marcus, well … Marcus is difficult to rely on.’
Ebony blinked and stared, surprised to see Abia, in her tackroom, and without a clue of what to say. Abia h
ad such a demanding presence, was so confident and wise, the last thing she wanted to do was to say something stupid.
‘I don’t want you to hold false hope,’ Abia continued, ‘but it’s important that you keep up your results and keep training hard. Rio’s only a few years away, and I think you’ve still got a shot.’
Riding Monster that day was just as magical as the first time she’d ever ridden a horse. Ebony resumed her daily routine with her horses and worked to finalise her show schedule for the remainder of the year. The new plan would have the horses peaking for the Master’s tournament at Spruce Meadows, which would round out their season. She was excited, about Thunderbird and the Rocky Mountain Classic, and couldn’t wait for the Master’s, which was the biggest show on the Canadian calendar and her favourite Spruce competition, bar none — it was like an ultimate festival of the horse, with a sprawling Equi-Fair and marketplaces, the Battle of the Breeds, the Mercedes Benz Evening of the Horse and live entertainment and bands. There were big money classes, too, including the prestigious $1,000,000 class. The Master’s would present the perfect opportunity to get their lives back on track.
Ebony continued to run with Dallas, and found her flat routines a little more bearable thanks to her improving cardiovascular fitness. Marcus wasn’t available to give her lessons; he’d been absent from the barn more than he was present the last few months, and was currently in the United Kingdom, showing at Hickstead. But she continued to do at least two flat sessions a week, with Abia, minus her stirrups, just to keep sharp. She was thankful Abia was around and acting as her new, stand-in trainer, as she was learning so much from her on the flat and over jumps.
One morning, before Dallas arrived for their run, Ebony noticed the sketch of Monster, which she’d managed to finish in the evenings, sitting on top of her pile of cardboard boxes. It was beautiful; a true representation of the fiery gelding.