Jockey Girl

by Shelley Peterson

  “Wanted to come?” Paulina finished her sentence. “If you’d wanted to come, you would’ve been here when we left at eight.” She stroked Tick and Tock’s soft, hairless bellies. “But you weren’t here, were you?”

  Evie shook her head.

  “Where were you? What was so important that you missed Beatrice’s synchronized swimming recital?”

  “Riding,” Evie answered truthfully.

  “Riding?” Paulina cocked an eyebrow knowingly. “And which horse were you riding, may I ask?”

  Evie felt trapped. Paulina knew that her father had forbidden her to ride Kazzam. She didn’t answer.

  “It was No Justice, wasn’t it?”

  Evie nodded. She couldn’t lie.

  Paulina’s mouth was smiling, but her eyes were not. “So now you’ve succeeded in making everybody in this family unhappy. I hope you’re proud of yourself.”

  Evie was honestly puzzled. “How’ve I done that?”

  “Well, I’m upset that you missed Beatrice’s recital. Your father will be upset that you rode No Justice. Jordie is upset when people are upset, and Beebee is upset that you stole her bagel.”

  Evie shook her head, astonished. “Her bagel? She gave me her bagel!”

  “That’s a lie!” Beatrice appeared in the doorway. “Evie stole it right out of my hands. She’s so much bigger than me!” The girl’s bottom lip trembled and she threw herself into her mother’s arms.

  “There, there, sweetie,” Paulina comforted Beatrice. “Sella will make you another.”

  This was crazy. Evie knew it was useless, but she had to defend herself. “But I —”

  “But nothing.” Paulina checked her manicured fingernails. “Stealing food. Shame.”

  Jordie jumped up. “Mom, Evie doesn’t steal food!” He ran to Evie, on the verge of tears.

  Evie put an arm around him and whispered, “It’s okay, Jordie.”

  Paulina sat up straight, knocking the small dogs to the floor. She spoke loudly over the yapping of her chihuahuas. “Leave my son out of this!”

  Grayson Gibb stalked into the room, smiling coldly. “What’s going on here?”

  Paulina gave a melodic little laugh and shrugged apologetically. Her face changed in front of Evie’s eyes. Gone was the shrew. In its place was the model with a heart of gold. Was it possible that Paulina was afraid of Grayson, too? It had never occurred to Evie until that moment.

  “Nothing important, dear,” purred Paulina. “Your daughter, Evangeline, rode No Justice today instead of coming to our Beebee’s recital. And then she stole her lunch.” She smoothed back her glossy dark hair from her face. “We’re just sorting it out.”

  Grayson assessed Evie carefully. His eyes narrowed and his nose wrinkled like he’d sniffed something putrid. “Never go near that horse again, if you know what’s good for you.” His voice got quiet and he growled, “And you must not steal food. You’ll end up like your mother.”

  4

  Escape

  Evie was banished to her room for the rest of the day without dinner. She sat down on her bed, completely worn out from her early morning and the adrenalin rush of the horse race, and demoralized by the scene that had unfolded downstairs. Her eyes closed and she flopped back. As soon as her head hit the pillow, she was asleep.

  Her growling stomach woke her at six o’clock that evening. But she couldn’t go downstairs to get food. She was being punished.

  Beatrice had set out to get her in trouble. Miserable brat. She’d lied about what happened and then called her a liar. Over a bagel? In her sister’s never-ending quest to be the favourite she never balked at making Evie look bad, but this was ridiculous. What was going on with her?

  And what had her father meant about her mother stealing food? Was her mother a thief, as well as all the other rotten things he’d called her?

  Evie thought of the long night ahead with nothing to do. She wished she had a television in her room like Jordie and Beebee. If she hadn’t thrown out her cellphone, she could’ve called Aunt Mary to set up a time and place to meet.

  She still couldn’t believe she’d tossed her phone into the river. Why, why, why had she done that? She longed to share today’s triumph with Cassie and laugh off her hurt about being sent to her room with Rebecca. Evie wondered again what her friends had been up to lately. Phoneless, she was simply not in that world. Who am I kidding? I’m not in that world anyway. It hurt every time she thought about how they’d all turned against her.

  She did have a book that she loved, Horse Play, written by Elizabeth Elliot. She read it once a year, at Christmas, to treat herself and to imagine what a nice family might be like. It was about a girl and a horse, and all the adventures they went through together. Like me and Kazzam, she thought. But she didn’t want to read it now and spoil her December ritual. Evie made a mental note to buy all the books that Elizabeth Elliot had written with her newly won money, if there was anything left after finding her mother.

  There was a light tap at the door. Evie rolled off her bed and turned the handle. She peeked into the hall. Nobody was there. She saw something lumpy in a white napkin on the floor by the door and picked it up. An enormous sandwich and an apple!

  Evie looked down the staircase. Jordie’s head popped around the corner. He winked — an improvement on his earlier effort. He put his forefinger up to his mouth and disappeared.

  The sandwich tasted better than anything she’d ever eaten in her life. Her sweet little brother had stuffed big hunks of tender chicken with mayonnaise and a huge wedge of crisp lettuce between thick slices of whole-wheat bread and peppered it liberally. She got a big glass of water from the bathroom to drink with it and ate every crumb. It was a complete meal. Even an apple for dessert.

  Evie hesitated before biting into the apple. After winning the race, Kazzam deserved it, not her.

  That gave her an idea. Her worry about a night of boredom disappeared. He would get the apple. Time for a practice escape.

  Without another thought, Evie went to work. She packed a small knapsack with three spare shirts, socks, underwear, toothpaste and brush, deodorant, a hairbrush, and a light windbreaker. She dressed in jeans, socks and runners, a T-shirt, a sweatshirt, and a baseball cap. All dark colours.

  She took the sheets off her bed, tied them together, and twisted them with knots. She looped one end and tied a lead shank she’d borrowed from the barn through it. She attached that to the sturdy hook she’d screwed tightly into the wooden baseboard a few days earlier, in preparation for her escape.

  Evie opened the window as far as it could go and looked down to the veranda roof. She’d have to be careful not to slip off.

  To make this a true dress rehearsal, she put Aunt Mary’s phone number in the front pocket of her knapsack and slid the envelope full of prize money into the zippered pocket.

  Now she was ready. She stood up and looked at the sky. It was seven-thirty and still bright outside. Time to go.

  Quietly, she pushed the sheet-rope out the window and fed it down until it was all outside, hanging almost to the veranda roof. She tugged on it hard — the hook was secure. All systems go.

  Evie wriggled through the window, feet first. Her legs blindly moved around until her feet found the first knot and held tight. Then the next knot, and her hands grabbed on. This is easy, Evie thought as she climbed down the rope, knot by knot. She felt the shingles with her sneakered feet and relaxed. Taking a deep breath, she let the sheet-rope swing next to the outside wall.

  Getting to the ground from the roof was a bit trickier.

  Evie crept to the far end of the veranda. When she’d cased it earlier, she’d marked this as the best place to climb down. The veranda roof met the wall here, so the eaves were sturdy and the bushes below were tall enough to hide her. There were no windows here, either, for someone to look out and spot her.

  She sat on the roof, turned around, swung her legs over with her belly to the eaves, and inched down, down, down, then a little fart
her down.

  Evie thought her toes should be touching the porch railing by now, but she felt nothing beneath her. Leaning her weight on her chest, she pointed her toes and stretched. Nothing. She let gravity pull her down a little farther. Then she slipped.

  She grabbed at the eaves with all her strength and caught herself. Willing her heart to stop thumping, she held tight, but she still couldn’t find the railing with her feet. It was farther than she’d estimated. She should’ve measured.

  Soon her arms would give out and she’d have to let go. Could she trust that the porch railing was just below her feet? It might be only an inch away, or she might have seriously miscalculated and would tumble down.

  She had two options. Go up or go down. Option one was out. She was hanging so precariously that she couldn’t possibly get back up. She had no choice but option two. She’d have to rethink this part before the real escape. Impulsive again, she thought. Stupid, stupid.

  Suddenly the eavestrough pulled away from the wood with a crack. Her feet hit the railing and she tumbled backwards into the bushes. She fell hard, accompanied by the loud crash of broken branches and crumpling metal eavestroughs.

  Tick and Tock began yipping and yapping. She counted the seconds. One. Two. Three. Four. Five. Nobody came running out to see what had caused the noise. Evie began to breathe again. Luckily for her, Tick and Tock barked so much that they were always ignored.

  Evie hoped she hadn’t done any damage to herself.

  She wiggled her various body parts. Her fingers and toes moved — that was good — and so did her arms and legs. Her neck turned both ways easily. All good.

  When she was sure the coast was clear, she hightailed it to the barn, slinking from tree to tree, crouching all the way.

  Once she reached the stable, she exhaled. Home free.

  The entire barn was quiet. Not a soul in sight, except the barn cats hunting mice, and the horses, munching and crunching their hay and occasionally slurping water. Evie loved those sounds. And she loved the smell — leather and horse and manure and clover — a poignant medley of smells that always lifted her spirits.

  Kazzam raised his head from his hay and softly nickered to her. “Hi there, Mister Racehorse. You were beyond brilliant this morning.”

  She took the apple out of her knapsack and offered it to her sleepy black horse. She held it for him as he took half of it in his teeth and chewed it up.

  The other horses smelled the apple and began to snort.

  “I know you all think it’s not fair, but Kazzam raced his heart out today.” She gave him the other half.

  Nine other horses in that aisle refused to accept her logic and stamped their feet and whinnied.

  “Okay! I give up!” Evie gathered up carrots in the feed room and fed each horse a delicious crunchy treat, one by one. Now the horses in the other aisles smelled carrots and began to demand their share. Horses deem it rude if you let them sniff something good but don’t let them eat it, so Evie grabbed more carrots and handed them to the impatient animals as quickly as she could.

  The setting sun bathed the walls of the barn in a rosy glow as she went back to Kazzam’s stall. She brought some brushes to curry him, and he was very content with her total attention. When she groomed the dip in his back, he reached his neck around and groomed the dip in her back, too, with his front teeth.

  She chuckled. “Nice, Kazzam. That feels good.” Out in the field, if a horse is itchy in a place he can’t reach, he scratches another horse in that place with his front teeth to show where to scratch him. “Horse etiquette,” said Evie aloud. She loved watching how horses relate to each other. In that way, she’d learned how to relate to horses herself.

  As Evie curried Kazzam she considered the various ways to get back into the house undetected. The original plan was to climb up the way she came. Now she knew that would not be possible. If she was extremely lucky she could get Jordie’s attention and he could let her in the back way. If not, Sella might still be in the kitchen.

  All of a sudden the barn lights came on. Evie froze. Footsteps approached. Two men were advancing along the aisle in her direction. Quickly she gathered the brushes. She sat down in the straw under the water bucket with her back to the stall wall next to the aisle. Kazzam stood with his head over her. She dared not peek out.

  “We don’t have an offer.” That whispery voice could only belong to one person. Evie’s blood went cold. “And we won’t. But you know that, Jerry. People are laughing.”

  “He’s the best we’ve ever had for the Queen’s Plate, Grayson. Faster than Thymetofly by half a second at three-eighths of a mile. He can run.” Jerry Johnston, their racing manager, spoke urgently.

  “He can run but nobody can stay on him.” Her father and Jerry stopped at Kazzam’s stall, inches from her. “Put all your attention on Thymetofly. There’s only one option for No Justice. You know what I mean.”

  “Try another jockey?”

  “You think jockeys don’t talk to each other?” Grayson Gibb snorted meanly. “Do you think at all?”

  Evie cringed in sympathy with Jerry.

  “Look, I hear you, Grayson, I do. But No Justice is good. We shouldn’t give up on him. I feel it.”

  “You feel it?” Her father scoffed again. “Well, I pay for it.” Grayson’s voice was a growl. “I refuse to spend another penny for him to be trained and fed and worked and shipped to the races, just to have him dump another jock. Get rid of him.”

  Grayson Gibb’s voice had become louder. He was standing right over her. Evie stayed as still as she possibly could. Was he looking down through the bars at her? Could he see her? She almost peed herself with fear.

  “He’s a mean one, too. Look — his ears are flat back.”

  Evie knew that Kazzam’s ears were back because he was protecting her from a perceived enemy. Actually, a real enemy. If my father finds me, I’m a goner.

  Grayson grunted angrily. “Look at him. He wants to bite me. Ha! Bite the hand that feeds him. I’m going to teach him a lesson.” Evie heard the click of the stall latch.

  She stiffened. She knew what came next. Kazzam was about to be beaten within an inch of his life. And she’d be discovered. There was nowhere to hide. Nothing to do but wait for it. Dear Lord of creatures great …

  “Stop, Grayson,” said Jerry quickly. “Please. He’s a valuable animal. Give me just a little more time.”

  “You’re not listening. Every day he’s here, he costs money.” Grayson took his hand off the stall latch, stepped closer to Jerry, then hissed, “Get rid of him, Jerry. If not one way, then the other.”

  “I’ll try.”

  “Do more than try. I want No Justice gone.” Grayson paused, then spoke very quietly. “He’s insured for a lot of money. Don’t make me spell it out.”

  “Yessir. Tomorrow.”

  “Hear me. Clearly. If you don’t make this happen by tomorrow, I know someone who will.”

  The conversation was over. Jerry Johnston scooted away down the aisle and Grayson Gibb strode back the way he’d come. The lights went off.

  Evie gasped for air. She collapsed against the wall and stayed where she was, trembling wildly. She tried to think. Kazzam had escaped a beating this time, but what was this insurance her father was talking about?

  She made her decision. No Justice would be gone by tomorrow, she vowed. She could not leave him to the whim of her father. She hadn’t planned on having a horse with her when she went to find her mother, but things had radically changed.

  Evie got Kazzam’s saddle and bridle out of the tack room, along with her helmet. She quickly slipped the bit into his mouth and the bridle over his ears. The saddle pad was embroidered with “Maple Mills Stables” and their tree logo in blue, so she turned it over for anonymity. She popped the saddle over his back and buckled the girth nice and tight.

  She led him out into the growing dimness. It was warm and the air was still, and smelled sweet to her nose. Soon it would be dark, but there was
a moon rising, and it would be bright enough to throw some light. And with a sky so clear, she knew it wouldn’t be long before the stars peeked out.

  She leaned toward the horse’s warm muzzle and stroked his gleaming neck. “We’re going on an adventure, Kazzam,” she whispered. “I’m not sure exactly where, but you’ll be glad to be away from here, and so will I.”

  Kazzam nickered. It was deep and soft, from way back in his throat, and the sound cheered Evie. The horse was communicating with her as best he could. He bumped her gently with his nose.

  “You want to get going? Fine with me.”

  Evie led him to the mounting block beside the entrance and hopped onto the gelding’s back. Silently, they trotted from the stables across the grass. She looked behind. There were no hoofprints to give them away. The Caledon racetrack had been overly dusty that morning, but now Evie was grateful that the weather had been so dry.

  The Maple Mills Stables gates were electronically operated, so they couldn’t get out the front. Farther south along the road was another, much smaller gate. Evie and Kazzam went directly there.

  The second they were off the property, she dropped her head in relief. Her heart stopped racing.

  “We made it, Kazzam. Prison break!” Parts one and two of her plan were accomplished.

  They picked up a trot and went south on the gravel road.

  5

  Magpie

  Kazzam’s strides were rhythmic and strong as they trotted south for half a concession, then turned east.

  Tomorrow, she’d figure out what to do about contacting Aunt Mary, but right now they needed a place for the night. Somewhere with food and water for Kazzam, and a dry spot where she could sleep. Somewhere safe, where Grayson Gibb would never look. There was only one location she could think of — the abandoned Henson property. It was about ten kilometres from Maple Mills with two highways to cross. If she remembered correctly, it had a paddock with grass and a walk-in shelter attached to the old barn.