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

by MaryAnn Myers

  “She and Matthew went to a Bruce Springsteen concert in Pittsburgh. They’ll be back tomorrow.”

  Randy took another look in the horse’s eyes. “Okay, a stab in the dark here, but it’s like he’s still there, in the uh….”

  Mark nodded. No need to say it. “Are you done?”

  “Thank you.” Mark laid the horse’s heavy head back down and Randy examined the shoulder wound. It was still oozing in spots, but he felt it would heal with time, albeit with some scarring. That brought them full circle to the problem at hand – time. If they couldn’t figure out a way to calm the horse without constantly sedating him, which brought its own share of harmful risks, it was just a matter of time before the horse was either going to injure himself further or starve himself to death.

  Karen and Veronica were masters at feeding horses in peril, but one that wouldn’t stand still long enough to take more than a bite or two of food at a time and stop only when he literally fell down from exhaustion, was a challenge even they hadn’t faced before in all their years of horse rescue.

  When the horse tried to raise his head, Randy stood up and stepped back. “How long since the last injection?”

  Mark checked the time. “Just a little over an hour.”

  Randy reached down, covered the horse’s eyes, and observed the horse’s breathing for a moment. When both he and Mark noticed an almost instant change, Mark took the horse’s pulse; first with the horse’s eyes covered, then uncovered, then covered again. He and Randy looked at one other. There was a significant difference each time.

  “What’s that mean?” Veronica asked.

  “Well,” Randy said. “It could indicate some retina damage.”

  Karen gasped. “Permanent?”

  “Hard to say.” When he covered the horse’s eyes again, the horse sucked in his breath, held it, and then heaved a heavy sigh. “If I thought he wouldn’t freak out when he wakes up, I’d blindfold him.”

  “Oh dear,” the women said together.

  “If he flips out and can’t see us, if we need to get a hold of him we’re liable to all get mowed down,” Mark said.

  The horse flicked his eyes back and forth and moved to try and get up. When Randy covered his eyes again, he lay his head back down. “Well, it works when he’s lying down. That’s my contribution. What’s your brainy idea?”

  Mark hesitated, literally covering both of his eyes for a second as if that would help him think. “How about a fly mask?”

  Karen went to find one, returned, handed it to him, and he and Randy put it on the horse and stood back. The horse was trying to get up again. When Randy shined his penlight across the horse’s eyes, the horse struggled harder to get up. “Let’s try two masks.”

  The horse was on its feet and trying to pace on wobbly legs by the time Karen returned with another one. Randy grabbed him by the halter and held him as Mark put the second fly mask on. The horse stopped for a second, wobbling, wobbling - then took a step forward, buckled his knees, and went down hard.

  “Holy shit.” Mark barely got out of the way in time. The horse lay with his legs all bunched up underneath him for a second, then groaned, and then sprawled flat out on his side. As Randy passed the penlight across his eyes, he flinched slightly.

  “Is he all right?”

  Randy nodded and tapped one eyelid through the mask then the other. The horse exhibited the same degree of response when tapping the lid or when shining the light.

  “He’s looking at you.” Mark said.

  Randy nodded. “I know. I’ll be damned.”

  Chapter Eleven

  Dawn had to duck as she followed Virginia inside the doorway of a small hut and found herself standing face to face with a Ugandan woman every bit as tall as she. They both smiled at the similarity. “Namono,” Virginia said, “This is Dawn. Dawn, this is Namono.”

  Dawn greeted the woman with a slight bow of her head and spoke slowly. “Hello. It is a pleasure to meet you.”

  “It is a pleasure to meet you too,” Namono said, tipping her head as well. “Have you come to see my beads?”

  “Yes.”

  “Zila, go.” Namono shooed her son. He flashed a gap-toothed grin and ran out the door.

  “Do not buy from Zila,” his mother cautioned. “He do not like to work. He just take. Bad habit.”

  Dawn smiled. The woman spoke nearly perfect English with such a lovely enchanting Ugandan accent.

  Zila peeked back through the doorway.

  “Go, Zila. Go! I tell you go!”

  “Candy, Miss V. Candy.” the little boy said.

  “If it’s all right with your mother?”

  When Namono nodded, Virginia produced a candy cane from her pocket. Zila darted inside to take it and hurried out the door.

  “What do you say?” Namono called after him, hand on her hip.

  “Thank you!” Zila shouted. “Thank you, Miss V!”

  Namono shook her head and walked to the back of the hut where her beaded jewelry laid spread out on a table. “I have made many bracelets and necklaces since,” she told Virginia.

  “I see. They are beautiful.”

  This was the third hut they had visited this morning. Each woman’s jewelry had a slightly different look to it. Each left her own stylized mark. Each woman was most gracious. They all offered Dawn and Virginia fruit to show their hospitality. Two apples and one pear so far.

  “Don’t refuse,” Virginia whispered.

  Dawn nodded, trying her best to finish the second apple. The cores they put in a cauldron to be turned into juice. “Delicious,” Namono said, weaving from side to side. “Out in the sun, sometime I leave it out too long. I like!”

  The three of them laughed. It would turn to tasty nectar-like wine.

  “Life is good. Children?”

  “Two,” Dawn said, sipping juice that had obviously been left out too long in the sun. “A boy and a girl.”

  Virginia remembered their names. “D.R. and Maeve. Her husband is a doctor.”

  “A veterinarian,” Dawn said. “Animals.”

  “Ah,” Namono said. “My man is gone.”

  “I’m sorry,” Dawn said.

  Namono let out a belly laugh. “Do not be! I say good bye!”

  “There is no divorce in the village,” Virginia said. “You just tell them good bye!”

  “You say many time and they sometime listen.”

  The three of them laughed again.

  From there Virginia took Dawn to meet another woman as statuesque as all the others. Wesesa was from a village far away. She too spoke nearly perfect English but had a slightly different accent with an enchanting clicking sound intermingled.

  “This is where I stay.” Virginia pointed to a cot just inside the door made up with fresh sheets and a pillow. “Wesesa says I keep evil spirits out that way.”

  Dawn thought she meant that seriously until both women laughed. “My bladder,” Virginia explained, damning the malaria again. “This way I can go out and come back as need be without waking anyone.”

  “So is this where I leave you?” Dawn asked.

  “Yes,” Virginia said. “Are you sure you don’t want me to go with you?”

  “Positive. I have to do this myself.”

  Wesesa had no idea what they were talking about. “Where are you going?” she asked Dawn.

  “My Aunt Maeve died not far from here. I need to go find out why.”

  Fear flashed across the woman’s eyes. “When did this happen?”

  “About two and a half months ago. The report said she drowned.”

  “In the Nile?”

  “Yes.”

  Wesesa studied Dawn’s eyes. “How do you know where you are going?”

  “I have a map.”

  “A map will not help you in Uganda.” Wesesa laughed. “You need to have a guide.”

  “Do you know where I can hire one?”

  “No. Not one for hire. I go for free. I want to ride in your big fancy car.”
She pointed to Dawn’s open-air rental Jeep parked just outside the door. “Come. We will go now.” Wesesa climbed up onto the cargo carrier behind the seats and waved to her neighbor. “On my honor!” she said.

  He nodded.

  “Say it!”

  The man was her father-in-law and very reliable for keeping watch over her hut. He was too old to travel far but he was also nosey and would often go through her things. He mumbled something begrudgingly.

  “Say it again!” She wanted him to promise he would not go inside.

  Another grumble.

  “One more!”

  He spit and grumbled again.

  Wesesa nodded to him. “Webale.”

  “Okay,” Virginia said, getting into the passenger seat.

  Dawn looked at the two of them. “Um….” She hesitated. “I really do need to do this alone.”

  Wesesa plunked herself down and crossed her arms. “When the time comes, we will leave you alone. Now we go.”

  Dawn climbed in behind the wheel.

  Wesesa sat proud as could be, waving to the villagers as Dawn drove slowly to the highway. “Do you have a radio?”

  “No,” Dawn said. “Apparently it was stolen. Five years ago,” she added, repeating what the rental attendant had said.

  “Okay. I sing!”

  Dawn glanced at Virginia.

  The old woman had a big grin on her face. “Welcome to Uganda!”

  Chapter Twelve

  Ben had gotten into the habit of going for a long walk every evening before dinner, time and weather permitting. With little time today, he decided to at least go for a short walk anyway. Whenever dinner was being prepared at his house, he always made a point of getting out from underfoot. He walked down the road to the corner at a brisk pace for about half a mile, then walked back, past the driveway to Meg’s Meadows and continued on up to T-Bone’s place. Most of the old-timers were sitting out on the front porch, Cracker Jack included.

  “All settled in?”

  “Oh yeah.”

  Miguel was reading today’s racing form, comparing the results to his handicap picks. Steven was doing a crossword puzzle. “What’s a five-letter word for the earth starting with a g and ending in e?”

  “Globe,” Ben said.

  “That’s it. Thank you.”

  Ben leaned his arms on the porch railing to look at the Used RV catalog in Cracker Jack’s hands. “What are you buying?”

  “This.” He showed Ben an ad for a motorized street-legal, rocket-car amusement park ride.”This particular one is set low enough to the ground for easy boarding.”

  “Where are you going to drive it?”

  “Around here.”

  “Oh,” Ben said. “It might take the horses a little getting used to. Silver’s awful bright. If the sun reflects off of it….”

  “I never thought of that. Here, look at this one.”

  Ben studied the ad. “There sure are a lot of them.”

  “People falling on hard times probably,” Jack said. “Maybe they need the money.”

  Clint nodded. “How does one fall on hard times? Did you ever think about that?”

  “No,” Jeanne said. “Not at all.”

  Ben laughed. “Well, good luck. I’m gonna walk over and check out the building site.”

  “Lots of noise and activity over there today,” Cracker Jack said. “You know, I’ve always wanted to drive a big ole backhoe. A forklift too.”

  Steven tipped his head in Cracker Jack’s direction. “We watched the movie Bucket List last night. He’s been working on his ever since.”

  “No. I’m serious. I’ve always wanted to drive a big machine,” Cracker Jack insisted. “And I’ve always wanted a Silver Rocket.”

  Steven nodded. “We watched Farmer Astronaut this afternoon.”

  Ben laughed again, then walked on past Glenda and George’s house and made a turn at the street corner. A rabbit darted across the road in front of him.

  “Hey, little bunny.”

  Looking ahead for more rabbits, he noticed the fine job the groundbreaking crew did cleaning the road of any mud and debris before they left. There were six pieces of heavy-duty equipment parked on top of what must have been a boatload of crushed limestone.

  He looked across the pastures to his farmhouse and right next to it, Cindy and Marvin’s new house. Next to theirs sat Dawn and Randy’s house. Liz and Senor’s was the closest. The plan was to extend the main driveway all the way through to where he now stood. He smiled; content, pleased. Meg would be pleased to have a Veterinary Hospital this close to the farm. On the farm actually. He checked his watch and decided he’d better get back to the house. They were having lasagna for dinner, Meg’s recipe, and he didn’t want to be late. As he walked home he thought about Dawn. He hoped she found some answers about her Aunt Maeve’s passing that she could live with. If it turned out the woman had died from a crime committed, it would destroy Dawn. There was no doubt in his mind of that. It would.

  ~ * ~

  Randy had hoped to be home early enough so he could spend some time with the children. As it was, he arrived just in the nick of time to walk them down to Ben’s house for dinner. Maeve skipped along holding his hand, happy as could be. D.R. limped. After a lifetime of ponying and galloping horses on the racetrack, Tom had developed a slight limp and on occasion D.R. pretended to have one too. Dawn always insisted on correcting him. She feared it would become a habit and cause permanent damage. Randy let him walk along this way today. D.R. didn’t want any part of being a veterinarian or imitating his daddy. Understandably, all being a horse doctor meant to him was that his father was never home. He wanted to be a cowboy like his Uncle Tom. He didn’t want to give horses their shots. He wanted to ride them.

  Mark was the last to arrive for dinner. After washing up quickly at the kitchen sink, he took his seat next to Susie. George had just started dishing out the lasagna, children first.

  “Honey, do you want me to cut that up for you?” Randy asked Maeve.

  “Yes, please.”

  Randy knew better than to offer his little man help. D.R. sliced and carved his own food with a butter knife and made a grand mess. As D.R balanced a large portion of lasagna on his fork and shoveled into his mouth, Randy couldn’t help but smile. He was growing up before his eyes. No, he said to himself, not my eyes, everyone else’s. When he sighed, his father glanced at him.

  “What’s the matter?”

  “Nothing. Pass the butter, please,” he said, reaching for a piece of bread.

  “Tough day?”

  Randy shrugged and looked at Mark. “We’ve had worse.”

  Mark rolled his eyes. “I don’t know when.”

  “Well, we had an awesome day,” Susie said. “We found the deal of a lifetime at the Garden Center. Plants and shrubs, BOGO! No limit!”

  Ben looked up from his plate. “Bogo?”

  “Buy one get one free.”

  “Oh.”

  George dished out another helping of lasagna for himself. “They cut the drive in for the hospital,” he said, reaching for more salad. “You wouldn’t believe the mess they made out on the road.”

  “And they were going to leave it like that,” Señor added.

  Ben chuckled. With the two of them on the job, there was no way that was going to happen.

  “Not on our watch,” George said.

  When Cindy and Marvin’s house was being built, the foreman threatened to walk off the job on more than one occasion because of what he referred to as George’s and Senor’s, “Goddamn watch dogging.” It was the topic of dinner conversation every evening, day after day after day.

  Carol rolled her eyes. She threatened to never eat another meal with them again if that was all they were going to talk about. Liz too.

  “Look at Cindy and Marvin’s place and how nice that turned out,” Señor said. “Trust me; they wanted to cut some corners now. It’s not like in the old days.”

  Wendy changed the subject.
“Any word from Dawn?”

  “No.” Randy shook his head. “Not today. Not yet.”

  “Mommy’s on a date,” Maria said.

  Ben smiled at her. “Really? Well, that’s nice.”

  Maria agreed emphatically. “She needs to date. She’s a young woman.”

  They all chuckled when she said that.

  “That’s what Aunt Liz said.”

  Liz laughed. “I confess. I did.”

  Dusty eyed the platter of lasagna near his fingertips, debating whether or not he should have a second helping.

  “You don’t get gout from pasta,” Wendy said, sensing his dilemma.

  “You don’t?”

  “No. Which reminds me,” she said. “The grandstand has a bit of the gout.”

  Tom looked at her. “What do you mean?”

  “The earthquake the other day caused some damage.”

  “Like my big toe?” Dusty helped himself to more lasagna.

  “Kinda. It’s on the bottom floor, over in the corner. Didn’t you hear the announcement?”

  “No.”

  “Good. That’ll make Richard happy. He was hoping it was accepted far and wide as white noise.”

  All three children furrowed their brows in confusion. “White noise?” D.R. asked. “What’s that?”

  “Well.” Wendy had to think. One didn’t dare talk down to D.R. He took major offense to that. “It’s like when the dogs bark and bark and after a while we don’t even hear them anymore. But we do hear them. It’s just that we’re so used to them barking we don’t pay attention anymore and it’s a nice sound.”

  Maeve, Maria, and D.R. nodded. “Is it zert yet?” Maeve asked, already moving on to the next topic of interest to her.

  Whenever they had lasagna, dessert was Cassada cake and both the children as well as the adults loved the whipped cream frosting.

  “Can you get gout from zert?” Dusty asked.

  “No.” Susie said, smiling. “Not in a million years.”

  At dusk after dinner when they all parted, Randy carried a sleepy Maeve in his arms. “Do you remember when I used to carry you both?” he asked D.R.