Tom walked down to stand with him; both stepped back when Johnny jogged Batgirl on the outside rail, splashing mud and slop everywhere. “Take her nice and easy,” Ben said.
Johnny nodded. He was one of the leading jockeys at Nottingham Downs. Batgirl was one of his favorite horses. Circumstances years ago, led to his riding Beau Born to a win in the horse’s last race. He loved Beau Born and he loved this filly. She was Beau Born’s daughter.
Johnny turned Batgirl around. They stood for a second, both jockey and horse taking in the activity all around them. Then Johnny clicked to the filly. She jogged off, broke into a canter, and then galloped strong. She was a sensible horse. She got that from Beau Born; sensible, but competitive. Even as a youngster she would always have to be first at everything. You’d best put her out in the pasture first or she’d pitch a fit. She always had to be first when it came time to bring them back in too. And she loved to run!
When a horse galloped up next to her, she dug in her heels and Johnny had to fight to keep her from turning the other horse’s sudden presence into a horse race. She got that from her dam, All Together, a mare that always had to have her way, and her say.
She pulled up “sensibly” and jogged back around. Johnny dismounted her up by the gap and Tom led her down through the barn area. Ben walked along behind them, talking to Johnny. “How’d she feel?”
“Great! She feels great! She gets stronger every time I get on her.”
Ben waved him on. Johnny had several more horses to gallop this morning. Ben appreciated the effort put in by his regularly named riders, their “vested interest” as he liked to put it when someone asked why he liked riders over exercise boys. It’s not that he didn’t use exercise riders, he did. He just felt that once his horses were racing and fit, the relationship between horse and rider was very important to being successful. Now when it came to starting his babies out at the farm or beginning their career at the track or getting them fit, exercise boys were invaluable because of their patience and strength. He was old school.
Dawn helped Tom bath Batgirl, scraped her off and put a sheet on her and was about to start walking her. Tom said he’d do it. “I’m a little stiff.”
Dawn looked at him. The Tom of old would have followed that up with something obscene for sure, but not today. He just walked off, leading Batgirl, and singing, “What a friend we have in Jesus.” Dawn knew the song by heart. He sang it all the time. “All our sins and grief to bear….”
She wrung out the sponge, gathered bucket, towel and sweat scraper, saw Ben coming down between the barns and waited. He smiled. “You won’t believe who I just ran into.”
“Who?”
“Do you remember Cracker Jack Henderson?”
Dawn had to think. “No, I don’t think so.”
“Well, he’s in town for a few days. I invited him for dinner.”
Dawn hesitated, still trying to place the man. “I’ll see what Randy’s schedule is. Maybe we can grill something.”
Beau Together, the two-year old nicknamed Bo-T, was the last horse for the day. He was scheduled to walk, as he’d galloped yesterday and the day before. By the time Tom cooled out Batgirl, Dawn had been walking Bo-T for about fifteen minutes. Tom did his stall, hung his hay net, scrubbed his water bucket and filled it with fresh water. He was one of those horses that dunked his hay and rinsed his mouth a lot while eating. All was well with his teeth, it was just his habit.
“You’re all set,” he told Dawn. “I’m going up to Janie Pritchard’s barn and hold one of her horses for the blacksmith.”
She continued walking Bo-T for another fifteen minutes, then put him away, and had a lukewarm cup of coffee. “Damned timer.” Again. By the time Tom returned, she had Wee Born and Whinny done up and groomed. Wee Born always had her front legs done up, and Whinny, all fours.
Bo-T didn’t need done up. Tom painted his shins with an iodine mixture, standard practice to try and ward off his shin-bucking. He brushed him off and picked the mud out of his feet. “You got half the shedrow in your hooves,” he teased.
Tom went down to do B-Bo next, and Dawn did Batgirl. She loved all the horses, but if she had to pick a favorite of the horses they had at the track, it would be Batgirl. Though chestnut and not grey, she had her dam’s mannerisms and looks, had her lovey-dovey affectionate side.
“Stand still,” Dawn said. She also had All Together’s arrogance. Dawn brushed her until all her hair was laying flat and shiny, did her up in all fours, and met Tom coming down the shedrow, having just finished B-Bo - his favorite.
“He’s a man’s horse,” he insisted.
Dawn agreed. Beau was easier to handle on the racetrack. He passed some of his temperament on, but B-Bo’s dam was a challenge to handle, and so was B-Bo. “The key,” Ben always said, when referring to B-Bo, “Is to meet his energy level with training, head on.”
When it came time to meet with Spears over at the grandstand about the offices, Dawn went along reluctantly and whining, “I’m wet, I’m tired - I want to go home.”
Wendy was at her desk, Spears his. When the man looked up and sighed, Ben laughed. “Bear with me,” he said. “I just want to check things out, that’s all. Wendy.”
Wendy didn’t look as resistant to possible change, but seemed supportive of what Spears was going through and rose from her chair with trepidation. Tom smiled. “Do I know you, pretty lady?”
She blushed.
“I’m chilled to the bone,” Dawn said, walking alongside Tom and Wendy.
Tom put his arm around her. “That’s ‘cause you need a little meat on your bones.” No sooner said he wished he hadn’t said that, but it was too late. It was said and done. Lord, help me, he thought. I have never been so tongue-tied in my life. He looked at Wendy. “Is now a good time to tell you that I love you?”
Wendy laughed. “No.”
Tom winked at her. “I didn’t think so.”
The five of them took the elevator down to the second floor. Dusty was waiting for them, soaked and chilled to the bone as well. The six of them strode down the hall as if they were about to board a space shuttle.
Dusty had already surveyed any open space. “You’re in for a surprise. Once upon a time,” he said, opening a door, “there was a magical room for only those who believed.”
The room wasn’t huge by most standards, but it was larger than Spears’ office upstairs, and it was entirely empty but for some hideous dark maroon drapes blanketing two walls, floor to ceiling. “What was this?” Ben asked.
“Near as anyone can figure, it was a private uh….play room of sorts for an owner way back. Are you ready?” Dusty motioned for Tom to give him a hand. The drapes were heavy and no longer slid open on the curtain rod. They both pulled back a side.
Dawn stepped closer. “You’ve got to be kidding me.”
Spears eyes lit up. “Is this one of those see-through mirrors?” The full length of the wall was glass, but odd looking glass, smokey, silvery.
“What’s next to us?” Tom asked, trying to see, and seeing nothing. “It has to be the clubhouse, right?”
Wendy touched the glass with her fingertip, left an impression and then rubbed a tiny area. “You can see the racetrack,” she said, peering through the tiny looking-glass hole.
Everyone rubbed their own little area, everyone but Spears that is. He looked through the opening Wendy had made.
“Okay,” Tom said. “So this has to be to the near side of the clubhouse. “I’m going to go look. Wave so I know where you are.” He went down the stairs, out through the secretary’s office and into the open area in front of the grandstand.
At first he couldn’t figure out where they were, the grandstand was all glass. He followed the line of club seats, dining tables, more club seats…stared and stared, and then saw a narrow black vertical line of what looked like a solid wall. He waved. Nothing….no response, no one.
Everyone was waving at him, again, everyone but Spears, who was walking aro
und the room, sizing it up. Dawn wiped a larger area with her wet sleeve, larger and larger, and Tom, peering and peering, finally saw her and waved. “I see you!” he yelled, and to Wendy, “I see you too! Listen!”
They couldn’t hear him, but could practically read his lips, and laughed. Whatever he was saying was sure to be funny. He headed back upstairs. “You’re not going to believe this,” he said, holding his hands slightly apart. “It looks like an area this wide. And black, like it’s a wall.”
“So it’s not a mirror?” Spears said. “It’s a see-through both ways?”
Tom nodded.
Ben stood looking out the large window area Dawn had cleaned. “We’ll need to get somebody to clean all of this and get rid of these drapes. Then we’ll take another look.”
“I’ll contact maintenance,” Wendy said.
Ben nodded and turned to Dusty. “Are there any other rooms on this floor?”
“A men’s room and a ladies room, four stalls each.”
“No private executive bathroom?” Spears asked.
Everyone looked at him. “No,” Dusty said. “But there is a private bathroom downstairs.”
“Where?” Spears asked.
“Come on, I’ll show you.”
Ben’s cell phone rang. He handed it to Dawn. Dawn shook her head. “Hello.”
“Hello, may I speak to Ben Miller?”
“Who is this?”
“Customer Service with TLC Telecommunications.”
“TLC Telecommunications?”
Wendy turned. “I’ll take it. It’s about Ben’s new ‘user friendly’ phone.”
Dawn handed her the phone gladly.
“Maybe you need one of those earphone thingies,” Tom suggested as they all walked to the elevator.
Ben looked at him.
“It was just a thought,” Tom said, pretending to be serious.
“I’ll meet you all downstairs,” Wendy said, turning her back and still talking to the phone rep. “Yes, larger. No bells and whistles, just plain old talking, plain ringer, programmable contacts and volume adjustment, unlimited local and long distance.”
When she hung up, she walked down the flight of stairs and at the bottom, listened for the sound of the group’s voices. Nothing, not a sound. They’d picked a fine time to be quiet. She’d always taken the elevator, so using that as a guide and knowing the secretary’s and Stewards’ offices were down the long corridor to the right, she took a left. She found all five of them standing, looking into a private bathroom.
“Since I’m here,” Tom said. “I wonder when it was cleaned last?”
Spears looked at him, eyes wide, wondering precisely the same thing.
“Just kidding, just kidding,” Tom said. “I can hold it.” When he crossed his legs, Dawn pushed at him, laughing.
“Show us the rest of the rooms,” Ben said to Dusty.
“Well, they’re small, but….”
“Isn’t there an office that connects to the restroom?” Spears asked. They were going pretty far down the hall.
Tom looked at him. “I think I’m going to have to do some serious praying for you. A shitter’s a shitter, what’s the big deal?”
Spears shrugged. “I guess I just have a hang-up about cleanliness.”
“That’s all right,” Tom said, “I have enough hang-ups to sink a ship. Man overboard!”
Everyone laughed.
There were three empty offices in a row, small, no windows. “From what I understand, once upon a time, each Steward had their own office,” Dusty said. The offices still had old desks and file cabinets.
“It looks like a dungeon,” Spears said.
Ben had to agree. “I wouldn’t want to spend any amount of time in here.” All three offices were the same. “So the offices just sit here, empty. Do we heat them?” He turned the light switch on, the room lit up. He checked the thermostat. “Well, at least it’s set at fifty.”
Dawn looked in one of the file cabinets, the desk drawers. Empty.
“They’re all empty,” Dusty said. “I checked all three rooms. Apparently the state Steward had his own bathroom.” They walked down to the third office so Dusty could show them the bathroom. It was nothing more than the size of a closet with a stained white sink and toilet.
Spears shuddered.”Wonderful.”
“Well, this has been fun,” Tom said.
“There’s one more room,” Dusty said. “I saved the best for last.” They all followed him back out into the hall and down the corridor to the right. “It sits directly behind the secretary’s office. You’ll have to look past all the boxes.”
He opened a door to a large room, probably 40’ x 60’. It had wood-paneled walls, and served as storage for all the racetrack records over the years; a racing form for each and every day, a program, the overnights, accounting records.
“Is there a reason to keep all of this?” Ben asked.
Spears wondered the same thing. “I don’t know, I’m not sure.”
“It’s a nice size,” Dawn said.
Tom looked around. “Yeah, but where’s the bathroom?”
They all laughed.
“Okay,” Ben said. “Let’s give this some thought. I don’t really need an office, so….”
“Yes you do, Ben,” Spears said. “Trust me. Even if you don’t think so now, as the owner you will come to realize it’s a must.”
Ben sighed. “Where can we all go sit and talk? I really don’t want to go back upstairs.”
They all walked to the secretary’s office. This time of day it was generally deserted, aside from the racing secretary, assistant, and several other employees. Ben waved to them, then motioned to the table, implying they’d be occupying it and the group sat down.
“You’re not expecting me to bring you guys coffee or anything are you?” Joe Feigler said. “If so, it’s going to be a long wait. We’re still trying to fill the last two races.”
“See,” Spears said, of the interruption, the distraction. “This is what I’m talking about.”
Ben looked at him. “And this is what I’m talking about. If we hadn’t just walked in here would you know they were having trouble filling races?”
“No, Ben,” Spears said. “Because I’d be up doing what I do, and letting them worry for themselves about what goes on down here.”
Ben looked at him and smiled. “Point taken. Still, I think there needs to be more communication. I think everybody needs to at least know what everyone else is up against.”
A trainer and his assistant entered the secretary’s office. When they both stopped at the counter, Tom watched. Hopefully they were entering horses. No. They appeared to be just asking questions, and then both walked over to the table. Ben, Tom, and Dusty knew them, but only in passing. This was their first year here at Nottingham Downs.
“Afternoon.”
Everyone at the table returned the greeting. “Good afternoon.”
It was obvious they had something on their mind. “What are the chances of us being able to move into Billy Martin’s old barn?” one of them asked. “We have horses spread all over the backside.”
Ben glanced at Joe Feigler; he lowered his eyes.
“How many head do you have?” Ben asked.
“Ten. Eleven with our pony.”
Ben looked at Joe again. “Is there a problem with this?”
Joe hesitated and then shook his head.
“All right.” Ben glanced at Dusty.
Dusty nodded. “All his stuff’s stored elsewhere. It’s all emptied out.”
Ben looked at the two men again. “You do know that he died there?”
The men nodded, one voicing both their opinions. “Actually, since we shipped in, he was the only one that would give us the time of day. Thank you. Thank you kindly.”
“Now that’s uncalled for,” Ben said, when they walked away. “They’ve been here all year and that’s how we treat them. That’s not right.”
“I’m on it,” Du
sty said.
Tom shook his head. “We’re a sorry lot.”
“Oh, don’t start that again,” Ben said.
“Well, it’s true. Here we are worrying about offices and crappers, and….”
Spears leaned forward; about to say something, but there was an announcement over the p.a. system. “Ladies and gentlemen, welcome to Nottingham Downs. Post time for the first race of the daily double is in thirty minutes. Don’t get shut out.”
Ben smiled. “Now that’s what I’m talking about.” He looked around the table. “Is everybody happy?”
Dawn laughed. “I will be, because I’m going home. I get to turn the ponies out today.”
“Not too long, remember,” Tom said.
Dawn smacked him, not once, but three times, and then again for extra measure. “Yes, Dad.”
“Do you have an opinion about the offices?” Ben asked, when she stood up to leave.
“Yes,” she said. “As nice as it would be to have everyone down on this floor, those offices are too dreary. I like the open window upstairs. I think it would be awesome if it can be set up inexpensively. Can you all share that room? I don’t know. I think it’s worth looking into. If not, then I say the big room right there. All things considered, if it were me, I’d want to see the racetrack every day. But also, I’d want to be a part of things here.” She looked at Spears. “That’s my opinion.” She hesitated and turned to Wendy. “Is the video going to play at the same times?”
Wendy nodded. “I’ll watch for the response.”
“Thank you. I’ll see you all later.”
Ben looked around the room. This was the heart and soul of the daily business at the track; where the entries were taken in one of two entry booths, which provided privacy for the trainer who didn’t want his entries common knowledge before the overnights came out. Where jockey agents vied for the best mounts for their riders and where the perpetual gin-rummy card game was played. If you wanted to know the latest about what was going on at Nottingham Downs all you had to do was hang out in the secretary’s office. If you needed a license for an owner or groom or hotwalkers or your horse’s papers, you were in the right place. Everything happened here, every day, as long as there was racing. He couldn’t understand why Spears wouldn’t want to be close to this, to be a part of it all.
Winning Odds Trilogy Page 66