Raja, Story of a Racehorse

by Anne Hambleton

  “Hiya, darlin’.” Ben flashed a smile at Dee and kissed her hello on the cheek. She turned red. Then he turned to Paddy. “I’m ready. Is he tacked up?”

  Paddy just glared at him and handed him my saddle and bridle. Paddy rode Robbie and Dee came out on Snickers to watch.

  “Gallop him once up the hill and then we’ll jump,” Paddy instructed.

  I hadn’t galloped since the race and I was feeling sharp. At the bottom of the hill, I let out a big, happy buck.

  I’m back! Ready to go, go, go!

  Ben smacked me with his whip and snatched me in the mouth with the reins. “Stop it, you pig,” he cursed.

  Whoa! What’s THAT about?

  I didn’t know what to make of it. As he pointed me up the hill, I took off, ready to show off my speed.

  I’m feeling GOOD.

  “Hey, slow down, we’re not working,” he yelled, as he stood up in his stirrups and pulled against me. I just pulled more; I wanted to run.

  This guy is annoying.

  I ignored his pathetic pulling and went faster up the hill. Three buzzards sat on the fence at the top watching us. As we approached, one of them took off suddenly. I saw him, but spooked anyway, jumping first right, dislodging Ben, and then, for the fun of it, dropped my shoulder and ducked left, depositing him on the ground.

  Ha! That should teach you!

  Then I galloped across the field to Paddy and Dee and Robbie and Snickers.

  “I don’t think this is going to work,” Paddy hissed through clenched teeth when we all met up at the barn. It looked to me like he was going to hit Ben. “This horse will not be going to the Maryland Hunt Cup.”

  Not going!

  I couldn’t eat my feed that night and didn’t want to leave my stall.

  It’s true! I know it now. I’m destined for great despair, not great glory. It isn’t fair!

  I tried to sleep, but all night long I thought of all of the failures in my life: not running fast enough to save my mother; losing the Fountain of Youth Stakes; injuring myself at the Hampton Classic because of stupid lightning; hurting Yuri; hurting Mr. Smith; ruining things; being scared of a silly starting gate; allowing a loose horse to hit me in a race, and getting Wyatt hurt.

  I’m never going to get a chance like this to prove myself. I’m old and a failure. It’s probably a good thing I’m not going, I’d just get someone hurt.

  13

  Last Saturday in April

  The following morning as streaks of red reached across the sky and we banged and nickered for our breakfast, the purr of an approaching car engine grew louder, then stopped. A car door slammed, then footsteps crunched on the gravel.

  Strange — no one usually visits this early in the morning.

  I popped my head over the stall door, curious. It was Rick Dunlop.

  “Good morning, Rick, what brings you out here so early? Is everything all right? No tooth problems for any of your runners, I hope?” Paddy asked, concerned, holding three small red, blue and green buckets filled with grain.

  “No, no, nothing like that,” Rick smiled, “I’ve been up all night thinking. I wanted to catch you before you left for the day. I have something to say that can’t wait.”

  “Hang on a sec.” Paddy dumped the grain in each of our feed buckets and placed the small plastic buckets back in the big built-in wooden feed bin in the corner.

  “Sorry,” Paddy smiled, “we’d have had a riot. I’m listening.”

  Rick cleared his throat, ran his fingers through his shock of grey hair and drew in a large breath before beginning to speak.

  “I think Dee should ride Raja in the hunt cup and I’m willing to vouch for her to get her jockey’s license. I already spoke to the hunt cup committee and to the National Steeplechase Association. Paddy, you know he’s a good horse and she rides him well. She’s green, but she’s a natural to a big fence, just like her uncle,” he winked. “She’s capable and fearless, but not reckless, and she and Raja have a special bond. I know it’s unusual to ride in the Hunt Cup as your first sanctioned race, but plenty of others have done it. Chris Gracie got the ride the week before, just after his 16th birthday, and he won on Swayo. Paddy Neilson won the Maryland Grand National at sixteen. Gene Weymouth, Jonathan Kiser, Henry Cochran and Mikey Smithwick all rode in the Hunt Cup at 16. You know as well as I that Hunt Cup horses don’t come around often.”

  He stopped to cough. “I don’t know why I am saying all this. I just believe that everyone deserves the chance to shoot for the stars, especially if that chance is staring you in the face.”

  Paddy looked at him thoughtfully. “Thank you, Rick. I’ll have to admit that the idea crossed my mind, too. Of course, I’ll have to discuss it with Dee and her father and get back to you and the committee. Oh my, I think we’re all getting a touch of ‘Hunt Cup Fever.’”

  Rick smiled. “It happens to the best of us this week.”

  Really? Dee ride me? What a great idea! I think I have Hunt Cup Fever, too!

  “Oh my god! A sling! Does it hurt?”

  Two days before the race, Wyatt came over as Dee was finishing chores. “I’m fine. I’ll be back riding in a couple weeks. It’s the third time I’ve done my collarbone and it wasn’t that bad. It’s a common break for jump jockeys. Want to see the x-rays? I have them on my cell phone.”

  Dee shook her head no, shocked. “That’s gross.”

  He grinned at her teasingly. “The question should be…how are you feeling?”

  “I feel like I’m going to throw up! I can’t do this; I must be insane.”

  “Don’t worry, you’ll be fine. Paddy told me that you were going down to walk the course tomorrow. Try to walk it at least three times and once by yourself so that you can visualize your race.

  He pulled out a map, motioning Dee closer.

  “Seven horses are entered: Raja, Inquisitor, Silver Squire, Abracadabra, Admiralty Bay, TaserferTater, and Cove Warrior. Obviously, Inky is the horse to beat. I think Abracadabra will be tough as well. She’s a good jumper. So is Silver Squire. Try to follow either one of them. Stay away from Cove Warrior; he’s unpredictable.” He smiled, pointing at his sling.

  “The hardest fences are the third and thirteenth. They’re notorious. They’re almost five feet high. Three is tough. It’s early and the horses are fresh and hard to rate and there’s usually a big crowd at the fence. Raja jumped that high when he was doing the jumpers, so remember that. You don’t want to run afoul of a faller, so stay out of traffic.”

  “How?” Dee asked.

  “Mikey Smithwick always told me to ride to the inside flag. There’s always room and the yahoos go wide and look for a smaller panel.”

  Wyatt continued, “The field between four and five will be soft, especially with all of the rain we’ve had. There’s a ridge that stays dry even when the ground is wet. Don’t let anyone push you into the boggy spot. Jed will probably try to intimidate you. Don’t let him. Just hold your line and pretend he isn’t there. Watch out for him — I mean it. He can be a dirty rider and he just hates being beaten by women. He’ll think nothing of riding you through a wing, or trying to quarter you. Keep your eyes open and be scrappy!”

  Dee’s eyes widened as she nodded.

  “Sixteen’s another big one and by now they’ve run three miles and they’re tired, so Raja will need your support. After 16, the pace will pick up. You still have a long way to go, so be patient. After 20, get going. The finishing hill is a killer. If you’re in contention, you’ll need to drive hard, but remember that the last fence is a straight up and down board fence, so keep your hands down and let the fence come to you.”

  “Thanks, Wyatt. Raja would have a better chance if you were riding.”

  “You’ll be fine. Don’t be a weenie,” teased Wyatt, giving Dee a playful shove.

  “Just try to have fun. Riding in the Hunt Cup is one of the coolest things you’ll ever do.”

  “I hope the rain holds off until after the race. The ground
is already bottomless — we don’t need it any worse,” complained Tricia, as she gave me a bath the morning of the race. “How are your nerves, Dee? Just think — the race doesn’t go off until four. You have all day to feel sick and terrified,” she teased.

  Dee didn’t answer. She looked very nervous.

  “What on earth are the boys doing?” she asked, looking out the barn doors at three boys crawling in the grass on all fours.

  Paddy looked up and burst out laughing. “They’re looking for four-leaf clovers. You can never have enough luck. What a lovely, wet, Irish day. ’Tis a good thing Raja’s a mudder.”

  I think Paddy wishes he were riding today.

  “Wyatt called. Silver Squire colicked last night. He scratched. That leaves six.”

  April, Glyndon, Maryland

  Inquisitor looked over at me derisively as Dee led me into the stall next to him in the pre-race stabling area. The energy in the air was so thick you could practically touch it. Every horse knew this was the big day, the biggest day of the year.

  The day of the Maryland Hunt Cup!

  “Well, if it isn’t flat boy! After the show you put on at the Grand National, I can’t believe your owner is running you over jumps, especially in this race. People can be really stupid.” Inquisitor nodded his head, then snorted, as if I were an insect he wanted to squash. “Well, maybe you can take out a horse or two and clear out the race for me when you fall at the third.”

  I just smiled at him.

  Good luck today. May the best horse win.

  Jed walked over to Dee. “You look nervous.”

  “I just hope I’m fit enough.”

  “How fit do you need to be to ride three fences?” He laughed meanly and turned to walk away, “this isn’t a sport for little girls.”

  Wyatt signaled for Dee to come over. He spoke in a hushed tone so that none of the people milling around the stabling area would hear.

  “Remember, the fences are all no problem if you’re in a rhythm. Six strides out, squeeze with your legs and soften your hands and it will all come out perfectly. Just pretend you are foxhunting.” He smiled. “Have fun. I’m jealous. Here’s a four-leaf clover. Put it in your boot.” He looked at the sky. “Let’s hope the rain holds off.”

  Tricia hurried over carrying a canvas bag, which she handed to Dee.

  “Dee, it’s time for you to go to the jocks’ tent to put your silks on and weigh out. The scales are next to the paddock. The shuttle, the guy in the golf cart, will take you. See, over there? Jed’s getting in. We’ll see you in the paddock. Good luck!”

  “Good luck, Dee!” Paddy shouted from my stall, where he was brushing my tail.

  After a few minutes, Paddy saddled me, with the help of Wyatt and Tricia. I could feel the tension in the air as some of the other horses skittered and bucked as they were saddled.

  It’s almost time!

  “Take your horses to the paddock,” a tall dark haired man wearing a tweed coat with a clipboard in his hand commanded, repeating it several times in the stable area so that everyone heard.

  “They’re on their way,” he barked into his radio.

  I jigged with anticipation as the horses walked in a procession across the field.

  The Maryland Hunt Cup!

  It was all so exciting. I could barely contain myself. I was fit and ready to go — this felt like old times. A fleeting moment of doubt passed as I looked around at the other horses. They all were great athletes and they all had a lot more experience racing and jumping big timber fences at speed. I knew I was fast and a good jumper, but could I put it together? Did I have the endurance to go four miles? What if Dee got tired or panicked going into a big fence and misjudged it?

  I hated to admit it, but I wondered if Dee truly was ready. Jed might be right. This is a rough sport and people get hurt. She was by far the youngest rider in the race.

  Look at what happened to Wyatt at the Grand National — and he’s experienced.

  People dressed in bright colors covered the hillside above the course — a field of pinks, yellows, greens. The grey overcast sky and rich green grass made all the colors deeper, more intense. To our left, several hundred tailgate picnics were underway — I caught whiffs of delicious food smells. I took it all in: kids tossing balls to each other across the yellow carpet of dandelions and buttercups, ladies in dresses eating pieces of fried chicken, and the stream of people flowing toward the paddock entrance.

  Is the rain going to hold off for the race? The sky looks dark.

  The loudspeaker crackled to life. “Welcome to the Maryland Hunt Cup. The horses are arriving at the paddock. We have twenty minutes until post time.”

  We entered the paddock and walked around as a crowd of people watched. I jigged impatiently. Cove Warrior, in front of me, was about to explode.

  “Heads up, heads up. Mind your back!” a shout went up, as he suddenly reared up and plunged forward.

  As I walked, I suddenly saw familiar faces smiling at me out of the crowd. Beth and Diana waved and signaled “thumbs up” to me. Next to them, with his big crooked grin, stood Yuri.

  Yuri!

  On the other side, I saw Bob, Michelle and Speedy. They all smiled and started cheering when they saw me walk by. “Good luck, Raja, you look beautiful!”

  The Murphy boys stood with Harper and Sam.

  “Go Raja! Go Dee!”

  Tricia stood next to a handsome, kind-looking man in a suit, flanking Dee, who clutched her racing whip nervously and paced back and forth as she waited.

  Is that Dee’s father?

  “Riders up,” came the call from the paddock judge.

  It’s time to go!

  Paddy kept me walking while Tricia walked alongside and gave Dee a leg up. “Good luck, Dee. The nerves go away as soon as you’re on course. Have fun.”

  We walked another turn. I could tell that Dee was nervous — I felt her hands trembling as she tied a knot in the reins.

  Should I be worried?

  A stone began to form in my stomach.

  I hadn’t noticed how dark the sky had been getting.

  A rumble of thunder echoed in the distance. I felt a drop of rain.

  Thunder! I don’t feel good about this.

  The outrider led the first few horses out of the paddock and started cantering toward the start. As I followed them, I suddenly smelled it.

  Gardenias and peppermint!

  I stopped abruptly and looked around. “What is it, Raja?” pleaded Dee, panicking, while she tried to kick me on to catch up to the others.

  I stood still and took another look around. In the middle of the paddock, surrounded by two strong-looking men with dark glasses, I saw her. She caught my eye, smiled and blew me a kiss. Then she mouthed the words, “You can do it.”

  Princess Ayesha!

  I happily cantered off to join the others at the start.

  We were all in line, the flag was up, and then we were off, galloping slowly to the first of twenty two fences.

  I feel good, keen. Ready to go, go, go!

  Why are we going so slowly? This is a race, not a horse show!

  Dee strained to hold me as I tossed my head annoyed at the constraint.

  Let’s get going!

  But she held me. Up and over we went as a pack. Now, the second fence.

  Pretty big — I’d better pay attention.

  Up and over again. I heard some timber-rattling behind me as we jumped. Now, across the dirt-covered road. Then I saw the third fence.

  WHOA! It’s enormous! HUGE!

  It was every bit as big as the fences in the Jumper Classic I had won with Oakley at Wellington — only these were big, solid, rails. They looked like telephone poles!

  NOW I knew what Inquisitor meant.

  Are all of the fences like that? This is harder than I had thought!

  A hush came over the crowd of people lining the fence as we approached. All I could hear was my heart beating and the thundering hooves of six horses
.

  Six strides out, I raised my head, looked at the fence, measured the distance and shortened my stride. Admiralty Bay was next to me, with Inquisitor and Jed two strides ahead, aiming for the inside panel. Time seemed to slow down. Then I moved toward the fence, lengthening my stride decisively to meet it. Dee sat quietly, with her legs steady and hands soft. I rocked back and sailed it.

  Perfect! That was big.

  The steep landing surprised me, but I was ready.

  Dee patted me. “Good boy.”

  Admiralty Bay left the ground with me and hit the fence with his hind legs, pecking on landing. Out of the corner of my eye I saw his jockey come off, a flash of yellow and green rolling on the ground. I looked up quickly to see where he was.

  Just what I need, a loose horse!

  Five of us were left in the race: Cove Warrior, TaserferTater, Inquisitor, me and Abracadabra, the good jumping grey mare. I looked for her, remembering what Wyatt had told Dee about trying to follow her.

  I didn’t want to get messed up by following a faller!

  We were tightly bunched, heading for the fourth. I jumped, flanked by Inquisitor and Admiralty Bay, who was now riderless and running alongside us. All of us made it over. Inquisitor and I rounded the corner heading to the fifth fence galloping head-to-head. I felt the ground starting to get muddy and noticed that Jed was trying to push us to the left, into the deeper ground.

  It’s the boggy spot Wyatt had warned Dee about!

  Dee kept a tight hold on her right rein, keeping me on the dry ridge. We ran so close to Inquisitor that I felt Dee’s stirrups clanking against Jed’s.

  Good girl! Hold your ground, don’t give in.

  I stayed straight, running on the ridge.

  “Hold your line little girl, I’m warning you,” Jed growled menacingly, raising the hand holding his racing whip, threatening to hit her. We headed into the fifth, stride for stride, still clanking stirrups. I could feel Inquisitor’s sweat as we ran, inches apart.

  Look, steady, lock on, one — two — three — up and over!