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

by MaryAnn Myers

  “Oh my God, I can’t handle this new you!”

  Junior laughed again. “I’m growing up!”

  “Yeah, well do it on your own time. I’ve got work to do.”

  At the call for the first race, Tom and Junior went into action. Missimee Me was easily rattled and liked everything her own way. She wasn’t one to be rushed. Getting her to take the bit was often a waiting game. Dawn was best at it. But Dawn was half a world away.

  Junior led Gizmo out from the shedrow and mounted, then waited, and waited. “Do you need help?”

  Tom shook his head. “When’s the last time someone kicked your ass?”

  “Last night,” Junior said. “And I ain’t complaining.”

  Tom laughed as he walked the filly out and handed her over. “Bring her back safe,” he said.

  It was something Dawn always said.

  Junior nodded.

  “I’ll cut through and get you an overnight. I’ll see you in the paddock.”

  Ben had already walked over.

  The race was a nine horse field. Missy’s odds were 9-2. Tom smiled when he saw the trolley parked in the horsemen’s lot. Cracker Jack had angled it so that the old-timers didn’t even have to leave their seats to watch the race. They were just beyond the wire.

  “I bet her,” Miguel said. “She better win!”

  Tom waved. “She’ll give it her best. She’s ready!”

  Betty Greer was making her way to the paddock and saw the trolley, then Cracker Jack at the wheel and all the passengers, and laughed out loud. “My people!” she called out and waved. “My racetrack family!”

  Cracker Jack and all the old-timers waved and yelled back. “Come sit with us?”

  “Oh….” Betty looked at the steps up into the trolley. “Well, looks like I can do this.”

  Cracker Jack and Miguel came down to offer assistance if she needed it. She did not. She climbed up and in rather easily. Lucy picked up Julie and made room for her to sit next to them.

  “Well, hello there,” Betty said. “I haven’t seen you for months. Look how big you’re getting.”

  Little Julie pressed her face to her mommy’s shoulder.

  “Such a pretty girl.”

  Julie peeked at her and giggled.

  “She’s the best little girl in the world,” Jeanne said. “Put her hand on your face and watch what she does.”

  Betty glanced at Jeanne. The two women had known each other for over sixty years.

  “Do it,” Jeanne said.

  When Betty reached for Julie’s hand and pressed it against her face, Julie looked at her and began tracing the wrinkles in her forehead with her fingertips. Down over her cheek with the very gentlest of touches, then back up gently to trace another wrinkle and all the while looking into Betty’s weathered eyes. So many wrinkles. So many stories. Tracing some of the wrinkles Julie would appear sad, and others - so happy.

  “She only does it once and never again,” Stephen said, when Julie removed her hand and looked out the window.

  “That’s amazing,” Betty said. “I feel so weird.”

  “We all did.”

  “Daddy!” Julie said, seeing Junior out on the racetrack on Gizmo, ponying Missy and Johnny in the post parade. “Daddy!”

  Junior heard her and looked around. “Hey, pumpkin!”

  Julie waved furiously. “Daddy!”

  “Max got in!” he yelled to Lucy. “Three horse, sixth race….” His voice trailed off as they cantered toward the far turn. Betty had an overnight and handed it to her.

  As Lucy stared at the sheet in her hand, her smile vanishing. Jockey – Annie Griffin.

  “Yeah, I know. He’s in tough,” Betty said, from her expression. “But he’ll be fine. Don’t worry.”

  Lucy nodded methodically, thinking, “Oh he’ll be fine all right. Just wait.”

  Ben walked down to the fence where he always stood when watching one of his horses race. Tom stood at his side, as did Dusty and old man Jackson who had a horse in the same race. Missy and his filly Double Down Lass were the co-favorites. Neither were betting men, but if they were, they could box their two horses to finish one two and win either way.

  “A buck each and we might be able to buy a ham sandwich,” Old man Jackson said.

  Ben chuckled. “Or at least an order of fries.”

  “The horses are approaching the gate,” Bud Gipson announced. “Do not get shut out.”

  Ben looked up at the announcer’s booth. Tom looked up at Wendy’s office window. She had her binoculars aimed at the starting gate. A short distance from the foursome stood Leon and the film crew, cameras rolling. Ben glanced toward the track kitchen. Randy’s truck was parked by the rail. Not having Dawn here weighed heavy on his heart. He was so used to her being here all the time. He hoped she found some peace. He hoped….

  “And they’re off!” Bud announced. “Coming away cleanly, it’s Missimee Me for the early lead. Right alongside is Double Down Lass. Kelly Carbon sits under a tight hold just a length back of the leaders….” When Bud announced the time for the first quarter, twenty-two and one fifths seconds, Ben and old man Jackson looked at one another and shook their heads.

  “Johnny’s got a stranglehold on her,” Tom said. Not good. This filly was best coming off the pace a little. Old man Jackson’s horse had a lot of early speed. It was a cinch she would go to the front, but not Missy.

  “As they approach the three-eighths pole, it’s still Missimee Me holding a slight advantage over Double Down Lass with Kelly Carbon closing in on the leaders. Two lengths back and making up ground is Bold Banter and a length behind Bay Brook Baby, Island Retreat and….”

  “You might as well let her run,” Ben muttered. The horse was way beyond trying to be rated to save a kick for the finish.

  “The leaders are engaged in a rousing battle in the turn while Kelly Carbon awaits her chance to pounce. As they straighten out for the run down the stretch, it’s Missimee Me with a narrow half length lead. Double Down Lass has mounted her challenge and is closing ground on the leader quickly. With a sixteenth of a mile left to go it’s Double Down Lass on the outside battling Missimee Me for the lead. And here comes Kelly Carbon! It’s Kelly Carbon! It’s Kelly Carbon. It’s Kelly Carbon for the win! Hold all your tickets. There is a photo for second.”

  “They wore each other down,” Old man Jackson said. “Since when don’t you come off the pace?”

  Ben looked at him. “Since when don’t you break on top?”

  The two men shook hands, congratulating one another on their horse’s efforts and walked down to the track. Ben wasn’t one to talk to a rider right after a race, but he always walked down to thank the jockey for the ride, good, bad, or draw.

  “I couldn’t hold her, Ben,” Johnny said. “She sprung out that gate like bonkers.”

  Ben nodded. In the olden days he might have come back with some remark, like, “Yeah I could see that.” Which could have sounded as if he was being critical of the ride, when in fact, it was quite the contrary. “She was too fresh,” he told Tom back at the barn.

  Tom nodded as he and Junior untacked the filly. “She’s maturing. She’s got a mind of her own.” The filly pushed hard up against him, almost knocking him off his feet. Ben pointed to a cut on the inside of her right knee. Tom took a look. Junior took a look.

  “The results of the first race are official,” Linda announced over the barn area loudspeaker. “First - Kelly Carbon, second - Double Down Lass, third - Missimee Me, fourth – Bold Banter.”

  ~ * ~

  Liz, Glenda, and Susie were busy planning for the groundbreaking ceremony dinner on Saturday and often joked that they should do party-planning for a living. They had the preparations down pat. It had become standard to have at least three summer holiday gatherings each year where everyone at Meg’s Meadows got together for an indoor-outdoor picnic in the main barn. They all looked forward to them. George and Señor had built fold-down tables years ago that spread from end to e
nd down the aisleway and they had accumulated enough stackable chairs for everyone and then some. Nowadays, setting up for the picnics was a smooth process.

  During the summer, there were very few horses in this particular barn. They were all turned out on pasture or at the racetrack in training. Since it had a restroom right in the barn and a washtub with hot and cold running water, this barn was the ideal location for the gatherings. Plus, they never had to worry about the weather. For one of the picnics there was a huge thunderstorm with a tornado warning, and they were all inside, barn doors closed, comfy, safe, and snug as can be.

  At the moment, the three women were removing cobwebs in the barn and sweeping up. These were pre-party chores George and Señor usually took care of, but their attention the past couple of days had been totally focused on the construction site. No sooner had the two of them finished the basic barn chores and mowed the lawn, than they were off on the tractor. Cindy’s husband Marvin had walked down to the site several times as well today to check on the progress. The three men were like bees to honey drawn to the sound of those backhoes humming.

  Marvin stopped in at the barn on the way back to his office mid-afternoon.

  “Did you get your computer up and running?” Liz asked.

  “I just have a couple more programs to upload.” He and Cindy had the house all set up, move-in ready. But he hadn’t realized how slow the server would be for setting up his desktop. When they’d been here in the past, he always just used his iPad.

  “How are things going otherwise?”

  “So far, so good, I guess.”

  Marvin wasn’t a hands-on horse person but he loved the dogs and they followed him everywhere. The barn cats seemed to like him too. All but one.

  “She’ll come around,” Glenda said. “She didn’t like me either when we first moved here. She’s set in her ways.”

  The cat hissed at him.

  “How old is she?”

  “Thirteen or fourteen we think. Randy says maybe even a little older.”

  Marvin looked at the Golf Cart Memorial for Mim just outside the main barn door.

  “You never met her, did you?” Glenda asked.

  “No.”

  “Oh, she was quite a character. Crusty as hell, but with a heart as big as Montana. She loved the horses.”

  Marvin smiled. “Well, I’d better go check on the downloading.” He clearly was torn between going to his office or heading back up to the construction site. A mammoth bulldozer of all bulldozers had just been delivered. “I’ll see you all later.”

  ~ * ~

  Wendy and Richard made the long walk through the basement to the earthquake-damaged repair site and stood in awe. “Wow!”

  “I know,” Wendy said. “They’re working around the clock. It’s amazing. It’s like it’s almost done.”

  “Not quite,” the foreman pointed out. “There’s a lot more to do. But basically, the structure itself is now totally secure and sound.”

  “We’re going to have to get Leon down here to film this,” Richard said.

  “You mean the movie guy? He was already here. He came with the owner of the racetrack.”

  “Ben?”

  “Yes. Mr. Miller. What a nice guy. Who’d ever think he could own the racetrack and be so down to earth? He looks like such a regular guy.”

  Richard and Wendy nodded. “That’s because he is a regular guy,” Richard said. “He’s also the salt of the earth. They just don’t come any better.”

  The foreman smiled. “He made an interesting comment about the repair being done from the ground up and that’s how it should be in this business. I said, I agree, that’s the only way to do it right and he shook my hand.”

  “Was that all on film?” Richard asked.

  “As a matter of fact. Yes.”

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  Dawn sat in the Mangeni Village gathering area eating a simple yet delicious supper of fruit and vegetables with Virginia and Wesesa and the women and children. Now that much of Dawn’s sadness had lifted, little Nabu didn’t seem quite so sad anymore either. As Dawn looked around the table, she could almost sense her Aunt Maeve’s presence. She looked forward to going home, but a part of her hated to leave. She wondered what she could do to help - to carry on her Aunt’s legacy.

  “We can only take so much money at a time,” Abbo said. “Too much money and there would be trouble. Thievery.”

  Dawn recalled her Uncle Matt saying Aunt Maeve had set up benefactor trusts in banks all over the world. “Do you still get money?”

  “No. It stopped after the men came.”

  “We were frightened,” Kissa said. “They wanted everything. They did not believe us when we said she drowned.”

  “Did you tell them about…?”

  “No.” Kissa said. “No.”

  Dawn nodded. “I’ll get that money started back up again. What else do you need? What about surgery for the children or medical care?”

  “We take good care. The girls are better off here.”

  It was only then that Dawn realized all the children were females.

  “There are no second-class citizens in Mangeni,” Wesesa said. “There is power in being taboo.”

  What little else Dawn knew of the politics of Uganda, she could understand that.

  “We all belong here for one reason or more. This is our home. This is home for the children. This is home for the old women. This is home for all of us.”

  Dawn understood that too. “I’ll make sure nothing changes. Until something does change,” she added, hoping that one day Uganda itself would change. “I want what you want.” It was time for her to go.

  “No sadness,” Abbo said. “You will be back some day. If not soon, when your children grow.”

  Dawn hugged her. “Thank you.”

  “Wait.” Kissa hurried to her hut and returned. “I did not give this to the men. It was for you. I did not trust them to give it to you. I did not care if they kill me.”

  It was her Aunt Maeve’s Holy Cross medal.

  “She always sleep with it under her pillow.”

  Dawn smiled and nodded. “I know. Thank you.” She hugged Kissa, then said her good-byes to the women of the village and waved to the children playing off in the distance. At first, Nabu just waved back like all the rest, then came running. Dawn picked her up and held her tight.

  In the blink of an eye, she could change this little girl’s life forever. But that would mean taking her from the only home she’d ever known. The only life she’d ever known. “You’ll have to find a way to help her here, to help all of them here,” she could hear her Aunt Maeve saying.

  “I will.” Dawn hugged Nabu a final time with tears in her eyes. then put her down and looked at the women. “My Aunt Maeve lives on in me. I want you all to know that. I will be here for you. You are a part of me. I am part of you…and always will be.”

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  Tom led Morning Dew into the paddock for the fourth race and circled her at least ten times to try to keep her calm. This filly was known to throw a royal fit now and then. Keep her moving and she behaved like a champ. Junior left Gizmo out on the racetrack with the other ponies and came in to help Tom saddle her. Ben gave up trying to saddle a horse “on the walk” years ago.

  “With age comes wisdom,” he had said.

  Morning Dew had her own unique method of pleasing the fans. After being saddled and blinkers on, whenever she was led past the onlookers and someone called to her she would flash them a wide-eye stare. Now legendary for this, according to some of the handicappers, that’s how she let you know whether or not she was going to run good. She did a lot of staring today.

  She would also watch for her regular jockey to come out the jocks’ room with all the other jockeys in the race and appear to recognize him. Even before he approached her, she always nickered to him. Ben joked that it was because Juan was always sneaking her peppermints in the morning. Tom kept her moving, pausing only for
a split second, so the paddock judge could check the identifying tattoo under her upper lip. Another tricky maneuver when done at a walk.

  “I love you, Morning Dew!” one of the fans yelled. “I love you, baby!”

  “Riders up!”

  The bugle sounded as Tom moved the filly into line. Ben gave Juan a leg-up. One final stare when another fan called Morning Dew’s name – she looked right at the person - Tom handed her over to Junior and Gizmo out on the track. The filly opened her mouth to bite the pony. When he pinned his ears and grunted, she changed her mind.

  “Ladies and gentlemen,” Bud Gipson announced. “The horses for the running of the fourth race are on the track. Post time is in ten minutes.”

  Randy parked his truck by the track kitchen and went inside for a cup of coffee. As he was walking back out, he glanced at the monitor. The camera was on Cracker Jack’s trolley and all the old-timers were waving out the windows. As Bud introduced each one of them by name, Randy sipped his coffee and smiled. The HBPA secretary Irene called to him from the window upstairs as he walked back to his truck.

  “Did you hear any word from Dawn?”

  “Yes, I did. Just a little while ago. She’ll be home Saturday.”

  “Good! Good!” She pointed to the trolley. “Can you believe that? That’s our Cracker Jack all right.”

  Randy nodded.

  “It’s two minutes to post,” Bud announced. “Do not get shut out.”

  Randy shifted his attention to the horses walking toward the starting gate and sighed. This racetrack was his life. He felt as much home here as he did at Meg’s Meadows. But without Dawn….

  Mark and Cindy pulled in, parked behind Randy’s truck, and got out and walked over to the rail next to him.

  Irene called down to them. “Hi, Mark! Hi, Cindy!”

  Both waved. “Do you have any more donuts left?” Mark asked.

  “Yes. Actually three. Do you want them?”

  All three nodded. “Throw ‘em down,” Randy said. “I’ll catch ‘em!”

  Irene tossed them down in a bag.

  “Thank you!” they all said. .