“The horses are approaching the starting gate,” Bud announced. “If you haven’t placed your wagers, you’d better hurry.”
The donuts were all the same, glazed. No fighting.
“They’re at the post! And they’re off! Charging to the lead it’s Reba Row, followed close behind by half a length is Dancing Doll and She’s My Sister. Half length further back it’s Morning Dew.”
Randy wolfed down the rest of his donut and wiped his hands on his jeans. “Well, that’s not good.” As a rule, Morning Dew liked going to the front.
“She had her head sideways in the gate,” Irene said, from a higher viewpoint and able to see better. “She almost went down.”
“As they approach the turn it is Reba Row out by three followed by Dancing Doll and She’s My Sister. A length back three wide is Morning Dew. On the inside, it’s Ginger Cookie and Why Weather Not.”
Tom climbed the fence to see over the tote board.
“Is she quitting?” Ben asked.
“No. No. Here she comes. Come on, Dew!”
The filly started making a move.
“As they reach the head of the stretch, Reba Row is being overtaken by Dancing Doll. She’s My Sister has dropped down on the rail, and on the outside closing ground it’s Morning Dew. Further back and now charging it’s Ginger Cookie and Why Weather Not.”
“Come on, Dew!” Tom yelled, jumping down off the fence.
This filly was one of Dusty’s favorite horses and though normally he watched the races rather quietly, he started rooting her on too. “Come on, Dew! Come on, Dew! Get up!”
“Taking over the lead it’s Morning Dew. Still mounting a charge on the outside is Ginger Cookie. Making a big move is Why Weather Not. But not today! As they approach the wire, it’s Morning Dew! Morning Dew! Morning Dew by two! Morning Dew!”
Leon‘s videographers filmed Tom looking up at Wendy and grinning when she lowered her binoculars and threw him a kiss. Then he had them zoom in for a close-up of Ben as he watched his horse pull up and start back to the grandstand.
“Follow. Follow.” When Ben and Dusty walked down to get their picture taken, Leon and his film crew were right on their heels. Tom waited for Junior to get back to the grandstand on the pony and the two of them led Morning Dew and Juan past the film crew into the winner’s circle.
Kris, the racetrack photographer, nudged Leon out of the way. “Excuse me.”
“No problemo.” He positioned one of the crew at her side. “And rolling….”
Bud smiled down at them. “Ladies and gentlemen, I ask you to direct your attention to the Winner’s Circle where movie director Leon Sizemore is filming the-soon-to-be-released documentary about Ben Miller and his role in the renaissance of Thoroughbred racing. The race is now official. The time: one minute, eleven and one fifth seconds.”
Kris snapped the win photo and Juan hopped down.
Ben shook his jockey’s hand. “Great ride.”
“Look this way and say that again,” Leon said.
“Great ride,” Ben repeated.
Juan smiled. “Thank you.”
“That’s a wrap.”
~ * ~
Ben and Dusty stopped by the trolley and got congratulations from all those onboard. Betty Greer was still sitting with them, having a wonderful time enjoying their talk of old times. Ben couldn’t help but notice that Lucy seemed a little distracted, and figured why. Annie Griffin.
As they walked toward the barn, with Dusty still hobbling though not quite so painfully, they ran into Pastor Mitchell. “Oh good, Dusty, I was just going to call you.”
Ben walked on.
“The Langstons are going to need some help this month. I just left them and they’re pretty down.”
Dusty nodded. “I’ll head over there and see what they need.”
“I’ll go with you.”
As the Liaison Official, Dusty worked closely with Pastor Mitchell and the HBPA to make sure the horses’ needs were met, and the horsemen’s as well. Sometimes they needed a prayer. Sometimes they needed financial assistance. Sometimes they just needed a break. At the moment, the Langstons needed all three.
“If it’s not one thing, it’s another,” Yvonne Langston said. “What are the odds of everything that is happening to us, happening?”
“It’s crazy,” her husband Bill said. “I owe everybody. I think I’m going to win, my horse flips at the gate and gets scratched. I say don’t let her stand, keep her moving till you load her. My pony girl lets her stand. My big horse gets a rare female infection. How the hell does that happen? I got another horse with more talent than any other horse I’ve ever owned or trained, but for some reason at the quarter pole he stops trying. He trains like a stake horse. We’ve scoped him numerous times, we’ve drawn blood. Vet’s gone over him head to toe. And always, he’s good to go! He’s great! He’s healthy as a horse can be and he wants to be a racehorse. I don’t get it. I’ve been in the business a long time. This is the worst it’s ever been for me.”
Yvonne looked away with tears in her eyes.
“I got to win a race just to pay my vet bill, let alone everyone else. We’ve had to treat that filly for her infection, a week straight of that flushing her out, antibiotics, you name it. I’m not complaining. Well, hell, I guess I am. It’s not her fault. It’s not mine. It’s nobody’s. And that one there, there ain’t a race for him in the book. He’s going to fire next time. He’s sitting on a win. But he’s not going to win if there’s no race for him. What the hell?”
Dusty sat listening.
“I’m at my wits end. We’ve just had the worst run of luck there ever was.”
“How can I help?” Dusty asked.
Bill shook his head. “I don’t know. Can you perform miracles?”
“No, that’s his department,” Dusty said, pointing to Pastor Mitchell, standing by his side.
Bill smiled, and when he smiled – his wife Yvonne smiled and wiped her eyes.
“Give me a figure of what you need to get by.”
“I don’t know,” Bill said. “I uh… I’m sure there are people worse off than us.”
“Maybe so,” Dusty said. “There was a time I was ready to sell my soul.”
Bill smiled again. “How’d that work out?”
Dusty chuckled. “It didn’t. I got to thinking I might very well be the only one with any faith in the horses I had at the moment. And how could I let them down?”
“When was this?” Bill asked.
“The year I had that filly, Time Again. Turns out it ended up being a decent year, but there for a while, I was ready to give up. I’m glad I didn’t. Come up with a figure to get you by for the next couple of weeks and we’ll go from there. All right?”
“All right.” Bill nodded. “Thank you.”
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Dawn made herself comfortable on the plane and sat gazing out the window as it taxied to the runway. The seat next to hers was empty. Just as well, she decided. She was in for a long flight but had so much to process, so much to ponder, to remember - to cherish.
As she took off her shoes, she thought about how the children of Mangeni were all barefoot and even some of the women, and the practical, yet elegant way the women dressed. She touched the beaded necklace that she was wearing; a gift from Wesesa with her Aunt Maeve’s Saint Christopher Medal woven into the thread.
Though it was still painful to think of her Aunt Maeve drowning, she found comfort somehow in knowing how and why she’d drowned. Giving of herself was her Aunt Maeve’s way of living. It seemed only appropriate that would be her way of dying, and even more appropriate for her to live on in the memories of so many for her sacrifice.
“How are you doing today?” the stewardess asked.
“Wonderful,” Dawn said. “I’m going home.”
The stewardess smiled and made sure Dawn’s seatbelt was fastened securely. When she walked on, Dawn leaned her head back, listening to the conversations all around her, a
nd yet not listening. She had so many conversations of her own in her mind.
“Promise me you’ll come visit,” she’d told Virginia.
“I promise. Promise me you’ll spread the word.”
“I will. I promise.”
It had been such a fun ride back from the village of Mangeni to Wesesa’s hut. Lots of singing, lots of stops along the way, lots of laughter, lots of promises….
As the plane took off and gained altitude Dawn stared down over the landscape and marveled at how quickly it went from a view of the city and the Kampala Market to what looked like a jungle, and then nothing but clouds.
~ * ~
Junior tacked Overdue Max and stood outside his stall waiting for Annie Griffin to come breeze him. To say he had gargantuan butterflies in his stomach would be a huge understatement. “Here she comes,” Tom said, out on the road on Gizmo. “Let’s do it!”
In order to save further argument with Lucy, Junior thought it best he not pony Max and Annie to the track. Surely Lucy’s parents would be watching. Surely they knew how Lucy felt about him riding Annie on the horse. Surely he would at least have to talk and be pleasant to Annie.
Sure enough on the first part. As Junior led Max around the backside of the shedrow it would appear Tony and Loretta were watching for him. “We’ll see you up there,” Tony said, taking one of his horses off the walking machine.
“Wonderful. Don’t shame me, Max,” Junior said, quickly adding, “I didn’t mean that. Well, I guess I did. But not in the way you think.”
The horse looked at him.
“Yeah, I know. I’m bonkers. I’m talking to you like you understand every word I’m saying.”
“Well, it works for Dawn,” Tom said, as he took the horse from him.
Junior gave Annie a leg-up. “Three eighths, gallop him out past the wire.”
“Aye, Aye, sir!” Annie looked at Tom and the two of them laughed. “Who’d have ever thought? Was he abducted by aliens?”
Junior motioned for them to go - to leave him alone trailing along behind, and here came Tony and Loretta. “How far you sending him?” Tony asked, catching up.
“Three eighths.”
“Really?”
Junior glanced at him.
“I was just asking.”
Max bucked and danced his way to the track. Ben was waiting for them up on the rail. When he saw Junior walking with his father-in-law and mother-in-law, he couldn’t help but feel sorry for the kid. Junior looked like he wanted to puke and then, even worse when Rupert Senior stepped out of his tack store to light up a cigarette and decided to tag along.
He and his “old man” as Junior called him, were getting along a little better now that Junior was married and had a baby, but for years prior to that they hardly spoke, even though they saw each other practically every day at the track.
Junior looked at Ben, gave him a slight nod, and Ben went ahead and called the work in for him. Originally Junior had wanted to call it in. It would be the first time he’d ever called in a work, simple as it was. He was usually on the “working” end.
Overdue Max put on a little show, dancing and playing as Tom and Annie warmed him up, then got totally serious and down to business. When Tom turned him loose just a little past the half-mile pole Annie dropped him down on the rail and he took off like he was shot out of a cannon.
“Easy, easy,” Junior said, oblivious now to anyone or anything but his horse at the moment. “Easy. I want him to show something, but not too much. That’s it. That’s it. Easy.”
Ben smiled. Now this was Junior.
“All right. All right. Stretch him out. Let him out a notch. That’s good. That’s good.” Junior leaned far over the rail, watching, watching, watching…. “Yeah, baby! That’s it! That’s a good boy!” As Max galloped out strong after the wire, Ben picked up the phone and got the “clocked” time. Thirty-six and three fifths seconds.
Junior smiled, watching Max pull up, and nodded. He’d figured it to be close to that.
“Are you wanting to get him claimed?” his dad asked.
“What?” Junior looked at him.
“Him working that fast?”
Junior shook his head. “So now I know where I get it from. I should have known all along. It’s in my goddamned genes.”
His dad laughed and walked away. “I was just throwing it out there.”
“Yeah? Well next time, don’t!”
~ * ~
Randy stopped by Shifting Gears Rescue later in the day to check on the horses and was pleased with their progress. He was especially happy with how well the “burn” horse was healing and adjusting.
“He’s even grazing,” Karen was thrilled to say.
As Randy carefully removed some dead skin off the horse’s wound, the horse didn’t even flinch. “I think you can just let it air out now. I’ll be back in a couple of days.” The two women walked out with him to his truck.
“His former rider and trainer were by yesterday,” Karen said. “I guess the girl is having nightmares. She says she feels like she abandoned him.”
“Well, she did,” Veronica said, not sounding the least bit sympathetic. “The mother made a donation. I wish we didn’t need it.”
“Yeah, but we do,” Karen said.
“Conscience money,” Veronica insisted.
“Do they want him back?” Randy asked.
“No,” Veronica shook her head. “Pastor Mitchell was here at the time. He said he was going to pray for me after they left. I guess I was shooting daggers.”
Randy chuckled. “Tell him not to pray too hard. I like you just the way you are.” He filled their arms with supplies for their “pantry” as they called it, and had one more farm call to go. With a little luck, he’d be home on time for dinner, third night in a row.
~ * ~
All six dogs bounded up onto Ben’s porch and plopped themselves down around him. He had been enjoying a little snooze on the glider until then. He’d already taken his evening walk, checked on all the horses, and even checked on the construction site which had already been shut down for day. When he heard a jet plane overhead, he thought about Dawn, now on her way home.
Randy had shared the details with him of what Dawn had learned about the circumstances surrounding her Aunt Maeve’s passing. He said she didn’t want to talk about it in front of the children when she came home. She felt they were too young to understand and that she would tell them someday when they were older. Randy let Carol and his mom and dad know, his sister and Marvin, George and Glenda, Mark and Susie, Richard and Heather, and Dusty. Tom and Wendy knew. Linda knew.
Dawn had phoned her Uncle Matt herself.
“Are you sure? Do you believe them?” he asked.
“Yes.”
“All right. I’ll get the fund re-activated.”
“Thanks for not following me,” Dawn said.
When Uncle Matt remained silent in response, she shook her head and smiled. “Well, thanks anyway. I love you, Uncle Matt.”
“I love you too, Dawnetta,” he said, saying her name Dawnetta just the way her Aunt Maeve used to say it. “I love you too.”
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Though not intentional, the timing turned out perfect for the Miller barn to not have a horse entered this afternoon, considering today was the new veterinary hospital ribbon-cutting celebration picnic dinner. Dawn would be home in plenty of time. Old friends Gloria and Charlie, now residing in Florida, were due to arrive. Even their flight arrival times seem to have had some divine intervention. After only a twenty-minute wait on Dawn’s part, followed by hugs and kisses and luggage pickup, the three of them were headed out the airport terminal together well before five o’clock. Fully expecting Señor to pick them up, Dawn glanced to where she thought he might be, then shook her head and smiled. “Look!” she said, pointing.
Gloria and Charlie laughed. “Oh my God!”
Cracker Jack was standing outside a red and green trolley wearing a cond
uctor’s hat; his wild snow-white hair sticking out around the fringe in all its glory. He bowed. “Your chariot awaits!”
Gloria giggled like a schoolgirl and climbed aboard. She and Dawn sat in the front seat on one side, Charlie the other. “What fun! What fun!” Gloria waved to everyone as they drove up the ramp past the crowds of people at the arrival stations. “I feel like I just won Publishers Clearinghouse! Where am I going? I’m going to Disneyland!”
“No, no, no, honey,” Charlie said. “That’s the Super Bowl when they say that!”
“Whatever!” She giggled again. “Hello! Hello! Hello!”
Dawn laughed. She looked like the Queen Mum waving to her adoring fans. Even funnier, most everyone waved back.
“Hello!”
Dawn’s “Welcome Home” banner made by the children was another nice surprise. It made her laugh. It made her cry. The crying part came when the children ran out onto the porch to greet her, screaming and jumping up and down. Though she’d been gone less than a week, it appeared they thought she’d been gone forever, or worse, never coming back.
“Mommy! Mommy!”
Dawn hugged them tight.
“Daddy’s coming home too,” D.R. said, as if Randy had been gone forever as well.
“And Mommy’s boyfriend,” Marie said.
“Really?”
“He’s coming to meet me. He’s coming to meet us all!”
Dawn smiled and then turned when she heard the familiar sound of Randy’s diesel truck.
“See! I told you,” D.R. said.
The dogs were following Randy up the driveway, barking. Beau Born whinnied long and loud. Cracker Jack rang the trolley bell. What a glorious day! Randy parked, got out of the truck, and gave Dawn a big hug lifting her off her feet. The children all wrapped their arms around his legs, getting in on the hug as well. Dawn laughed. It felt so good to be home. “Put me down. Put me down,” she said.
“Nope. I’m never letting you go again!”
“Daddy!” Maeve tugged on his pant leg. “Put Mommy down. You’re so silly!”
“Well, I guess I am.” Randy put her down and shook hands with Charlie and gave Gloria a kiss on her cheek. “It’s good to see you both too.”
Book Four of the Winning Odds Series: Soon to be a Movie Page 17