Winning Odds Trilogy

by MaryAnn Myers

  Randy stared. “I don’t know,” he said, and glanced at the magazine again. “How do you get into somebody’s head like this?”

  “You just do. I can’t explain it. It’s what makes a writer, I guess. You don’t judge, you can’t judge. Because you become them.”

  Randy shook his head, quite taken by her explanation, and got up and walked over to see what she was typing.

  “The filly loaded without incident and stood quietly while the rest of the field was ushered into the gate. The bell rang and the gate doors slammed open.....”

  “Well?” Randy said, leaning over her shoulder.

  Dawn looked at him and smiled. “Well what?”

  “Come on.” Randy stared at the page. “Keep going. Does she win or not?”

  Dawn nudged him to move and sat back, crossing her arms. “I don’t know. I haven’t decided yet.”

  Randy shook his head. “Give me something else to read then.”

  Dawn motioned to a shelf behind him. “The blue book, yes, the third one. That one right there.”

  Randy opened it and sat down. It was a book of children’s stories. “Rubbie Rubbles,” Dawn said. “Story eight. I wrote it in my junior year in high school. It got published through a young author’s contest.”

  “You’ve been writing that long?”

  Dawn nodded, went back to typing, and Randy started reading. A smile spread across his face, which Dawn noticed, then he chuckled, and after that he started laughing.

  “Do you mind?” she said.

  He smiled. “This is funny.” Rubbie Rubbles were cousins of the Adrenalin Frenalins, invisible little creatures who attached themselves to people in need, sometimes giving off an odor as a means of protection.

  Dawn typed a sentence and sat staring. Randy didn’t notice she’d stopped until he finished the story, laughed again, and looked at her. “What?” he said.

  Dawn shrugged.

  “Tell me. What’s the matter?”

  “What time is it?” she asked.

  Randy looked at his watch. “A little after ten. Why?”

  “I have to call Ben,” she said, picking up the receiver and dialing the phone. She held her breath, waiting for Ben to answer, not knowing exactly what she was going to say, and got the switchboard operator instead.

  “May I help you?”

  “Yes. Can you connect me to Room 409B? I know it’s late, but...”

  “I’m sorry, we can’t forward calls after ten. You’ll have to call back in the morning.”

  “That’ll be too late,” Dawn insisted.

  “Please hold,” the woman said, and a moment later came back on the line. “I have checked on Mr. Miller’s condition and can tell you that he is listed as satisfactory. Please call back in the morning.”

  Dawn put the receiver down and sat thumping her fingers on the desk as Randy observed.

  “Did you ever sneak into a hospital before?” she asked.

  “No, not lately,” he said, facetiously. “It’s not the sort of thing I do often.”

  “Oh, come on,” Dawn said, the wheels spinning inside her head. “How hard can it be? No one stopped us when we were there before.”

  “That was a different floor. Besides, what’s the hurry? Why not just wait till tomorrow?”

  “I don’t know; I can’t. I’ve got to talk to him tonight. Are you coming with me?”

  Randy laid the book down. “Do I have a choice?”

  “Yes. Do you want to hear them?”

  Randy shook his head. “No. But I’m going on record as saying this is a dumb idea.”

  “Duly noted,” Dawn said, and off they went.

  “Do you have a plan?”

  “No.” They entered through the emergency room doors and sat down quickly. Dawn took hold of Randy’s hand and looked around the waiting room. Too many memories. Too many. She started rocking back and forth slowly, and Randy touched her leg to get her to stop. She frightened him when she did things like this; it was weird.

  “Listen,” he said. “If anyone asks, I thought I broke my arm again, but it feels okay now, so I’m not sure. Okay?”

  Dawn nodded. “Okay.” It was a busy night. There were people everywhere. They blended in.

  “Now what?”

  Dawn stared at the elevator directly across from the emergency room desk. A nurse was handing out forms to a man hobbling on one leg. “Is it your foot?” the nurse asked.

  “No,” Randy said in his mind along with the man. It’s his knee. He could tell by the way the man was holding it.

  “It’s my knee.”

  Dawn squeezed Randy’s hand, the elevator had stopped, a bell sounded, and she wanted to be ready in case... A nurse got off. Dawn sat back, then quickly decided to go for it, and pulled Randy to his feet. Five steps. That’s about all it would take.

  “Just a minute,” a voice behind them said.

  They both froze.

  “Where are you going?”

  Dawn turned, thought frantically. “To the ladies room. I looked and couldn’t find one on this floor, and...”

  “Down the hall.” The nurse pointed. “To your left.”

  Dawn thanked her, and she and Randy pivoted in that direction.

  “I told you this was a bad idea,” Randy mumbled.

  “Which patient are you with?” the nurse asked.

  “Uh...” Dawn motioned that she really had to go bad, but that she’d be right back, and Randy followed, nodding and apologizing to the nurse for taking her away from her duties. He smiled and smiled and smiled, practically walking backwards, bounced into the wall at the corner, apologized to the nurse again, as if he’d run into her, and turned and chased after Dawn.

  “This is so stupid,” he whispered, catching up to her.

  Dawn looked at him. “Why? What’s the worst that can happen?” she asked, and didn’t wait for an answer. “There! Stairs!” She tiptoed as fast as she could, opened the door, dragged Randy in with her, and leaned back against it to get it to close quicker. “Let’s go,” she said, and started up the stairs.

  “Wait!” Randy grasped her arm and pulled her back. With her hair all loose and wild, her eyes all lit up, her voice husky and cheeks red, she looked so sexy. “Kiss me,” he said, and she laughed.

  “You’re crazy.”

  “Kiss me anyway,” he said, and covered her mouth with his. “Again,” he said, and picked her up, wrapped her legs around his waist, and pressed her against the wall. “Once more.”

  Dawn laughed. “You’re sick, Randy. You know that.” She kissed him hard, wriggled out of his arms, grabbed hold of his hand, and up the stairs they went.

  Panting by the time they reached the top, Dawn peeked out the door, and ducked back in. “Damn!”

  “What?” Randy smoothed her hair.

  “The nurses, they’re all there.”

  “Good. Let’s go home.”

  Dawn shook her head. “Not after coming this far. They can’t stay there forever.” She waited a minute and peeked out again. “They’re gone, come on.”

  “Are you sure we’re on the right floor?”

  Dawn hesitated, looked at him, and Randy smiled and nudged her. “Go.” They hurried down the hall, to the right, made the turn, got to Ben’s room, and were just about to congratulate themselves, when they came face to face with a nurse on her way out, and not at all happy with this late encounter.

  “What do you think you’re doing here?”

  “I have to see Mr. Miller,” Dawn said, looking over her shoulder at Ben’s side of the room where the curtain was pulled.

  “Patients need their rest. That is why we have rules and visiting hours,” the nurse said, in a firm but hushed voice as she edged them back toward the door. “How did you get up here?”

  “The stairs,” Randy said, pointing to the hallway.

  “We’ll only stay a minute,” Dawn pleaded. “Please...”

  Ben recognized her voice and called to her. “Dawn? Dawn, is that you
?”

  “Yes.” Dawn implored the nurse with her eyes. “Just one minute. I promise.”

  The nurse scowled at her, then at Randy, and finally relented. “One minute, and that’s all.”

  “Thank you,” Dawn said, and hurried around the curtain to see Ben. Randy started after her, but the nurse blocked his way.

  “Don’t ever do this again. Do you understand?”

  Randy nodded, thanked her again, and Dawn hugged Ben tightly. “I’m so sorry,” she kept saying. “I’m so sorry.”

  “Me too.” He held her tenderly and patted her back. “Me too.”

  “I just never thought...”

  “It’s all right. It’s all right.” He glanced at Randy and wiped his eyes. “I shouldn’t have jumped on you like that, but you were wrong.”

  “I know.” Dawn leaned back and looked at him. “I just...”

  Ben handed her a tissue and smiled. “Don’t do anything like that again, okay? And when I can’t make my own decisions, bury me. All right?”

  Dawn nodded. “What about your therapy? Do you want me to...?”

  Ben shook his head. “It’s taken care of. I have a supplemental policy that picks it up.”

  “I’m sorry. I didn’t know.”

  “And you didn’t ask.”

  Dawn nodded, corrected, and Ben smiled at Randy. “Go on home now, go on,” he told them, and Dawn kissed him on the cheek.

  Ben looked into her eyes then. “I didn’t mean...” he said. “What I said when...”

  “I know,” Dawn smiled. “I’ll see you tomorrow.” She waved to his neighbor, apologized for waking him, stopped to thank the nurse again, and she and Randy walked down the stairs and out into the coolness of the night.

  “Now what?”

  “I don’t know. Are you tired?”

  “Not really.”

  “Good.”

  Chapter Thirty

  It poured. The backside was a muddy, rutty mess. All Together was in the eighth race. And Dawn was a wreck. If only she could rake the shedrow. Routine, routine. She needed her routine. She stared into the sky, begged the rain to stop, wiped her face, and told Fred for the tenth time this morning to leave the filly alone.

  “I’m not bothering her. I’m just talking to her.”

  “Leave her alone.”

  Tom heard them. “Goddamn it, Fred. Leave her the fuck alone. Here.” He took a twenty dollar bill out of his wallet. “Go get us a pizza. You want pizza?” he asked Dawn. She nodded. “The works, no anchovies. And a six pack of Coke. Understand? Coke. Cold ones.”

  Fred smiled. He was such an easy-going kid, Tom and Dawn instantly felt guilty for jumping on him. If it just wasn’t for that annoying habit of his of not listening, of daydreaming all the time, and of not taking anything seriously. They liked him in fact. He had a way with horses. He just never knew when to back off. Red had even lost patience with him, and would pin his ears whenever he so much as heard his thundering voice.

  All Together charged her webbing, squealed, and kicked and bucked. Then squealed some more.

  Tom trudged his way past her to the tack room, scraped his boots at the door as best he could, and Dawn followed suit. “How do you think she’s going to run?” The filly had never run on an off track before.

  Tom fixed a cup of coffee, tasted it, and handed it to Dawn. “Who made this? You or Fred?”

  “Fred,” Dawn said, tasting it herself and shuddering at how strong it was.

  “Tell him not to make anymore, okay?”

  “You tell him,” Dawn said, and they both shook their heads at their reluctance. Dawn sat down next to him, and asked again, “Well? Do you think she’ll be all right?”

  Tom sighed, propped his elbows on his knees, held his coffee cup in both hands, and stared at the floor. The filly had worked in the mud, and worked well. And with the way she was built and her nicely cupped feet, there was no reason why it should give her any trouble.

  “Tom...?”

  When he just shrugged, she looked at him, watched the way his eyes fluttered as he sipped his coffee, how bloodshot they were. How his hands trembled. My God, she thought, how long has he been like this? She noticed his hair then, longer than she’d ever seen it, and touched his face with the back of her hand. He needed a shave. “Tom?” She’d never known anyone more meticulous about his appearance than Tom, not even Randy, who was rather fussy himself. Or proud. “Tom, are you all right?”

  He looked at her and shook his head. “I want a drink,” he said. “I want it bad.”

  Dawn swallowed hard and put her arm around him, leaned her head on his shoulder, and the two of them just sat there like this for a moment.

  “I don’t know what I’m gonna do. I’m so tired of fighting it. God, I’m so tired,” he said, his voice cracking. “This is no way to live.”

  Dawn searched his eyes and shivered, having felt this desperation herself.

  “Every fucking day,” he said. “I just can’t take it anymore.”

  “No,” Dawn said. “You can take it! We’ll get you some help. You’ve probably been trying to do this alone, and you can’t do it alone.”

  Tom looked at her and shook his head. “Oh, God...Dawn, you’re so I.” His voice cracked again as tears filled his eyes. “There isn’t anybody that can help me. I can’t be helped. I want a drink because I’m a fucking alcoholic, and that’s all there is to it.”

  “No.” Dawn combed his hair back behind his ear with her fingers and kissed him on the cheek, as tears of her own trickled down her face. “That’s not all there is to it.”

  Fred came around the corner then, calling out for one of them. “My car won’t start, Tom. Can I use your truck?”

  “Oh Jesus.” Tom reached for a towel to wipe his eyes, threw Fred his keys before he had a chance to come in, and dumped his coffee in the shedrow. “I’ll be back in a little while,” he told Dawn.

  “Tom...?”

  He held up his hands and walked away, leaving Dawn feeling helpless, able to do nothing but stand there and watch.

  “What’s wrong with him?” Fred asked.

  “You,” Dawn said.

  “Me?”

  “Yes, you’re driving him crazy,” she said, and smiled as if maybe she were kidding. “Just go get the pizza, okay?”

  “Okay,” he said, and reached up to pet the filly.

  “And leave her alone.”

  Fred laughed. “Jesus, you guys gotta lighten up.”

  “Pizza,” Dawn said. “Go!”

  By noon, the sun was out.

  Dawn was relieved not to have to handle All Together in the paddock, and never appreciated Fred more. He was lanky but strong, and though infatuated with the filly, never let her get the best of him. “Quit that,” he kept saying, “now quit that,” as the filly danced round and round. Tom tacked her, Fred kept her walking, and Tom hurried out to where the ponies were assembled and got on Red just in time as the post parade emerged. Fred handed the filly over to him and headed for the five-dollar window to make a bet.

  “Dawn, can you lend me some money?”

  “You should’ve asked sooner. Does it look like I have my purse with me?”

  Fred laughed. “I’ll be right back.”

  Dawn climbed up on the fence, hiccupped and thought, oh God, here I go again, but only hiccupped that once. She looked for Randy’s truck; he pulled up and parked at the last minute. When Fred climbed up next to her, she made him switch sides. The race was a flat mile. She didn’t want anything blocking her view. The horses upon loading were so close she could see that familiar look in the filly’s eyes, the way she kept tossing her head, Johnny adjusting his goggles again and again until they were set.

  “And they’re off! Taking the early lead is Allllll Togetherrrr.”

  She’d broke from the five hole and was three wide going into the first turn, half a length in front, before dropping down on the rail at the three-quarter pole, and made it look so easy. From there, she just lengthe
ned her lead. The announcer called the positions for the rest of the field, as if they were two different horse races. And the filly finished seven lengths in front, going away.

  “Holy Mackerel!” Fred shouted.

  “Ladies and gentlemen, we have an unofficial new track record for the mile.”

  “What?” Dawn darted her eyes at the tote board. “Oh my God!”

  Fred jumped up and down. “What a horse! What a horse! I knew she’d run big!”

  Dawn laughed and looked for Randy; he flicked his lights off and on, and she laughed again. Then, she and Fred hurried to the winner’s circle.

  “Congratulations!” came from everywhere as they weaved their way through the crowd. “Congratulations!”

  The new track record of one minute, thirty-five and one fifth seconds, was declared official as Tom dismounted Red and led the filly into the winner’s circle, dancing, tossing her head, and kicking out at her muddy tail, still half-tied in a knot.

  “Did you see how wide she was in the first turn?” Tom yelled to Dawn, beaming as he struggled to keep the filly on all fours. “Jesus! I asked Johnny, what, were you taking her to the kitchen for a fucking omelet!”

  Johnny laughed, eyes big and round as he did his best to help control the filly, while waving his whip to the stewards and repeatedly looking over his shoulder at the tote board to see the new track record flashing.

  The photographer snapped the picture quickly, Johnny dismounted, and Tom warned everyone to stand back as he turned the filly around. She was still doing battle with her tail. He handed her over to Fred on the track and Fred walked her to the spit barn as Tom and Dawn followed with Red.

  “I can’t wait to see Ben’s face!” Tom said to Randy as they passed. “A fucking new track record!”

  Randy nodded, smiling, and winked at Dawn. “I’ll be back around six,” he told her, and she waved, the two of them saying just about everything else with their eyes.

  The filly pulled her usual stunts at the spit box. Dawn was happy to take Red and leave them behind. She hosed him off and wiped him down, gave him a drink and hung him on the walker to dry, and did both their stalls. He was put away by the time Tom returned.