Book Four of the Winning Odds Series: Soon to be a Movie

by MaryAnn Myers

  She shook her head. “I don’t know, Tom, I just….”

  “She wouldn’t want you to cry so much you know,” he said. When Dawn looked away, he cleared his throat and also had to look away. No sense him crying. Besides the fact that it would probably only make Dawn cry more, he had a rough-tough image to uphold. He opened the door. “Come on. Get in.”

  “No. That’s okay. I think I need a little time to myself.”

  “For what?” He patted the seat. “Come on. I need to talk to you about something.”

  Dawn wiped her eyes and when he patted the seat again, climbed up inside his truck and sat back. “So what’s going on?”

  Tom took the toothpick he’d been chewing out of his mouth. “It’s like this. I have this friend. She’s actually more like a sister to me and I’m really worried about her.” He reached over and wiped a tear from her cheek. “It’s breaking my heart.”

  Dawn shook her head. More tears flowing. “I just can’t deal with it, Tom. I don’t know what to do.”

  “Well, there doesn’t seem to be much you can do. I know you loved your Aunt Maeve. We all did. She was a remarkable lady. But you can’t bring her back by being sad.”

  “I know.” Dawn sniffled and wiped her nose with the back of her hand. Tom searched for a napkin in his console and handed it to her. “But I can’t bring her back by being happy either. It’s just the way she died. I can’t handle it. I can’t get a grip on it. It doesn’t make sense.”

  Tom nodded.

  Ben’s truck turned in off the road and stopped behind them. He got out and walked slowly around to Dawn’s side. One glance, and…. “You’re worrying me, little girl,” he said, biting hard on the inside of his lip.

  “I’m sorry,” Dawn said. “Both of you. I’m so sorry.”

  Ben swallowed hard. “I don’t know how to help you. I don’t.”

  “You can’t,” Dawn said. “No one can.” She had been so close to her Aunt Maeve, even with her Aunt traveling around the world for one cause or another all her life. They weren’t just related, they were kindred spirits. They even looked alike, talked alike, laughed alike and cried the same. They’d been there for one another, always, even through the worst of times. They were best friends.

  Tom and Ben just looked at her for moment, their feelings of helplessness heavy on their hearts and showing on their faces. “I’ll see you at dinner,” Ben said.

  As he walked away, Dawn sniffled several times in an effort to compose herself and turned to Tom. “I’ll be fine. I don’t want to worry Ben. I’ll be fine.”

  “You want a ride up to the house?”

  “No. Not yet. How do I look?”

  Tom smiled and handed her a half-empty bottle of water. “Here. Splash some of this on your face.”

  Dawn took the water and climbed down out of the truck. “Where’s dinner tonight?”

  “Liz and Señor’s.”

  “I’ll see you there.”

  Tom nodded and popped his toothpick back in his mouth as he drove away. Dawn smiled at his Barn 14 license plate. Ben and Tom had been in Barn 14 at Nottingham Downs forever. It was their “home away from home.” With a sigh, she walked on and when she came to Mim’s Memorial she did something she’d never done before. She stepped carefully through the shrubs and flowers and sat behind the wheel in the golf cart, much the same as Mim had done time and time again as she would gaze out at the horses in the pastures.

  “Mim, what should I do?” No sooner said than she laughed at herself through more tears. “Yep, you’d be telling me to stop feeling sorry for myself and just do something. Anything.”

  All Together looked up from grazing when she heard Dawn’s voice. She and this horse had such a history, such a bond. Dawn shuddered, remembered the day the mare broke down. “But you’re fine now,” she said quickly. “You’re fine.” She recalled visiting the farm months after the accident and discovered she really was fine. Dawn had been at her side with the delivery of every one of her foals since, and another was on the way. The future….

  “Thanks, Mim,” she said softly.

  All Together put her head down and went back to grazing.

  “I know what to do now.” Dawn took a drink of water and rinsed her face with the rest. “Thank you.”

  After they’d all sat down to dinner that evening - Randy, Maeve, D.R., Linda and Maria, Liz and Señor, Carol, Glenda and George, Dusty, Ben, Tom and Wendy - Dawn made an announcement; a decision she’d made after discussing it with Randy just before heading over to his mom and dad’s for dinner.

  “But, Dawn,” he’d said. “Uncle Matt has already done an investigation and if he couldn’t find out anything….”

  “That’s not why I’m going. I’m going so I can understand.”

  “All right, then I’ll go with you.”

  “No. I need to do this by myself. Aunt Maeve was alone and I need to be alone too. I’m no good to anyone until I can put this to rest.”

  Randy wrapped his arms around her and held her tight. “You’re going to tell Uncle Matt, right?”

  “No. And you’re not either.”

  Dawn looked around the dinner table at her friends and family. “I’m going to take a few days’ vacation,” she said, calling it a “vacation” for the children’s sake. “A writing assignment. I’m going to be leaving tomorrow morning. But, I won’t be long,” she added, when Ben looked concerned. “I’m going to Uganda.”

  Chapter Three

  Ohio Born, the three-year old gelding sired by Beau Born out of Native Lea was in the third race today, his first time ever running without Dawn there. Her lack of presence felt odd to Ben and Tom. It even felt weird to Junior, not to mention the horse. “It’s like he keeps looking for her.”

  “I don’t know what she hopes to find,” Tom said. “Where is Uganda anyway?”

  Ben shrugged. “At least she let us know she was leaving this time.”

  Tom nodded, both recalling years ago when All Together broke down. Dawn thought the filly had been destroyed and then disappeared for months. She’d said she needed to get away and without another word, she was gone.

  “But that was before she and Randy got married and had the kids,” Tom said. “How could she leave now?”

  “Don’t worry. She’ll be back.” Ben had believed it then and believed it now. “She said she’d only be gone a few days.”

  “I don’t like her not letting Uncle Matt know,” Tom said.

  Ben looked away, and there was something about the way he looked away. “What? Did you call him? Did you let him know?”

  Ben shrugged again.

  Upon the announcement for the horses in the fifth race to start over to the paddock, the conversation ended. Junior had their pony Gizmo saddled. He took care of bridling him and Tom bridled Ohio Born - known simply in the barn by the name “Ohio.”

  The horse ran in a plain snaffle bit, no tongue tie, no noseband, no blinkers, and generally stood well in the paddock while being saddled. But not today. He was on edge for some reason. Tom walked him round and round, talking to him and rubbing his shoulder in an effort to calm him down. “What’s the matter with you? Save your energy for the race.”

  “Riders up!”

  Tom slowed Ohio in front of his paddock stall just long enough for Ben to give Johnny a leg up, then led them out to the track and handed them over to Junior and Gizmo. “Good luck. Something’s got him going.”

  Junior nodded. Ohio was never rank. He was mostly level-headed. Even now, though obviously agitated and distracted, he listened. He behaved. After a good warm up he seemed to be back to his normal self. He loaded well. He stood in the gate well. He broke well.

  “And they’re off. Taking the early lead is Ohio Born.”

  Tom stood next to Ben. Both had their arms crossed. Both had on what Dawn called their “game faces.” The race was three-quarters of a mile; the track was listed as fast. Tom glanced up at Wendy and smiled, always amused by how she would turn her whole
body as she watched the race – binoculars fixed.

  “Running second is Incense Burning, followed by….”

  When Tom turned back around, he felt dizzy for a second, and then dizzy again. He looked at Ben. As insane as it seemed, from the look on Ben’s face it was as if he was feeling the same sensation. “What was that?”

  “I don’t know.” Ben pressed his hand to his heart. “I thought it was the big one.”

  “Was it an earthquake?” old man Jackson asked, standing next to them.

  Chaos erupted among the crowd as the earth shook.

  “What the hell?” He looked up at Wendy again, but she was no longer standing in the window.

  “Ladies and gentlemen, we just got word that there has been a seismic event. It is considered minor. Do not be alarmed,” Bud announced.

  “A seismic event?”

  “And as they start down the stretch, it is Ohio Born by two, then back to Incense Burning, followed by Day And Night making a rally on the outside.”

  Attention focused back to the race until there was another tremor. This one wasn’t as strong, but judging from crowd reaction it was enough for just about everyone to have felt it.

  “At the wire, out by three lengths it is Ohio Born!”

  Tom walked down to the racetrack and squinted up at the announcer booth. “Ladies and gentlemen, I assure you, according to the National Weather Service, what you are feeling are after-tremors and there is no danger. The epicenter was recorded in Mantua which is about twenty-five miles from here and what we are experiencing are aftershocks. Aren’t we glad we don’t live in California!”

  Tom could see Wendy standing next to Bud and smiled. Always on the job. As soon as she got the seismic reading report, she probably ran up the three flights of stairs to relay the information. He waved to her and right about then, Ohio Born and Johnny came up behind him.

  “That was fucking weird,” Johnny said, grinning.

  “You mean you felt it?” Tom asked.

  “No, I heard Bud say it!”

  Tom led them into the winner’s circle past Ben and old man Jackson.

  “Wait for me,” Dusty said, hobbling down to join them.

  “What happened to you?” Ben asked.

  “Gout.”

  “Again?”

  “Are we ready?” Kris, the photographer, asked.

  When they all looked at the camera, Ohio Born included, she snapped the picture and Johnny jumped down off the horse. “Unbelievable. It’s not everyone that can say they win a race during an earthquake.”

  “It’s a shame Leon didn’t get it on film,” Dusty said.

  Ben glanced over his shoulder. The director and his film crew weren’t far behind. Dusty followed Ben’s gaze and laughed as he limped along. “He probably conjured up the whole scene, earthquake and all.”

  ~ * ~

  Tom called out Ohio Born’s name as they entered the test barn and led him into a stall. He and Junior removed his bridle, put his halter on, and the attendant switched the test tag. Gizmo had been ground-tied outside and took it upon himself to start moseying toward the Miller barn.

  Junior leaned out the door, whistled to him, and the horse stopped dead in his tracks and lowered his head. “Get back here.”

  Gizmo sighed and turned back around. Ben, with Dusty hobbling along beside him, arrived right about then. The two of them chuckled at Gizmo’s expression. He was a good pony with a good attitude, but had an independent streak. Tom followed him once just to see what his “plans” were, and he very nonchalantly just made his way to their barn, stopped to look both ways before entering the shedrow, glanced into the hay room, and then walked into his stall.

  At Nottingham Downs, horses that ran first and second were always tested for drugs after a race. Oftentimes random horses would also be tagged for testing regardless of where they finished. Management had a zero-tolerance for drugs; once that had been clearly established there were very few violations.

  Junior led Ohio around the test barn, still referred to as the spit barn from back in the day when they used to test saliva, and stopped the horse at his designated water bucket. After a good long drink but not too much, Junior pulled the horse’s head away and led him to the wash rack where he and Tom gave him a suds bath and wiped him down.

  The trainer of the horse that ran second teased them about hogging the show. “Just hose him off for Christ sake.”

  Ben laughed, standing just outside the barn, then turned, and was startled when he found himself looking directly into a camera lens. “Jesus Christ!”

  “Sorry.” The videographer stepped back.

  “Cut!” Leon shook his head. “Dusty, you’re up next.”

  “Well, then you’d better let me sit down.” As Dusty hobbled over to the bench outside the test barn, Ben took a quick glance at Ohio’s legs after Tom took the Vetwrap bandages off, then gathered up Gizmo’s reins and headed for their barn.

  “I’ll untack him, old man. Just put him in his stall.”

  Ben sighed and walked on, mumbling to himself. “If I live to be a hundred.”

  Gizmo rubbed up against him as if to say “I know what you mean.” Then Ben glanced ahead and saw Richard standing just outside the shedrow looking worried.

  “It’s not good.”

  “What are you talking about?”

  “I just got word of a documentary on horseracing being done about Hartford and Ames.”

  “So?”

  “They’re two of the top trainers in the country.”

  As if he didn’t know that. Ben just looked at him. Those same two top trainers were also well-known for their continuous drug violations and questionable training practices.

  “They’re going to come out with it about the same time as ours.”

  No comment. Ben handed him Gizmo’s reins and loosened the pony’s saddle girth. “Ah, I’ll bet that feels good. You know, I never thought we’d be able to replace Red, but you sure come close.”

  “The timing is horrible,” Richard said, glancing down at the horse slobber on his shirt. “We may have to postpone the project.”

  Ben removed the saddle, hauled it past him into the tack room, and laid the saddle blanket across the top so it could air out. “Here,” he said to Richard, reaching for the pony’s reins. “I’ll hold him, you take his bandages off.”

  Richard stared. “How?”

  “Start at the Velcro and unwrap them.”

  Richard was surprised at how easy they came off. Ben pointed to the bench outside the shedrow. “Just lay them there.”

  A classic overachiever, Richard hung them on the makeshift clothesline next to another set of bandages instead and straightened them several times so they were perfectly even, then followed Ben and Gizmo down the shedrow. “I’m thinking if we postpone the project for at least six months, maybe a year….”

  “Why?” Ben took Gizmo’s bridle off, patted him on the forehead, and walked out of his stall. “”What do they have to do with us?”

  “A lot. The racetrack image has taken quite a few hits, particularly the last couple of years. We don’t know what their focus is going to be, their direction.”

  “Well, we know what ours is, telling it like it is. I don’t see any reason to postpone it.”

  Leon and the film crew stood at the head of the shedrow, cameras rolling.

  “Besides,” Ben said. “We’re talking apples and oranges here. It’s a story of two different worlds. This is reality and that’s fantasy.”

  Leon motioned for a zoom-in.

  “Horses are disposable to them. There’s probably at least ten horses waiting in line for each stall with sale-catalog pedigrees and purchase prices to match.” Ben took off his hat and wiped his brow. “They push horses to excel or else. We don’t have that luxury and frankly I wouldn’t want to. We care about our horses. If they need some time off, they get it. We want them to have long healthy careers. We want winners but not at the expense of a horse’s health. They�
��re not throwaways.”

  “Cut.” Leon said. “Now that’s what I’m talking about!”

  Ben looked at him. “Good. Then keep filming. You want a documentary. I’ll give you a documentary.” He watched Tom and Junior leading Ohio Born back to their barn, the colt dancing and prancing and all proud. “That horse there would have been raced as a two-year old, the worst thing that could have happened to him. He had to be brought up slow. He was big-boned and gangly. We had to wait on him. We had to give him time. Don’t talk to me about syringe trainers. I got no use for them. If I had my way, they’d all have their licenses revoked. No exceptions. That’s not training. You want to know what’s wrong with racing today? Why so many racetracks can’t bring in a crowd anymore? They’re tired of seeing horses break down. They’re tired of seeing them hauled off in meat wagons. They’re tired of hearing about nothing but drugs and abuse.”

  When Tom stopped Ohio Born in front of him, Ben ran his hands down the horse’s legs. “You can’t train from a clubhouse and you can’t train with a needle. This here is horse training hands-on every day. You get to thirty and forty head of horses, you become “a manager,” not “a trainer” in the true sense.” He patted Ohio on the shoulder and stepped back as Tom led the horse down the shedrow. “Don’t get me wrong, I’m not saying they aren’t good horsemen. But economic pressure will shade proper decision-making as far as the horse’s well-being goes.”

  “That’s a wrap,” Leon said.

  Ben nodded. “We’re working Alley Beau Thursday morning at seven o’clock. You’re going to want to be here by 6:30.”

  As Leon and the film crew left, Ben turned to Junior who was standing at his side. “And while I’m at it, you get yourself a horse, and you can have that stall.”

  Chapter Four

  Dawn’s sixteen hour flight to Kampala, Uganda’s capital, passed quickly thanks to the woman sitting next to her. A volunteer with an organization called BeadforLife, Virginia Blankenship had made five previous trips to Uganda over the years and like Aunt Maeve, she had also suffered malaria twice.