Jockey Girl

by Shelley Peterson

  The Hensons’ children had sold the farm to developers and moved their elderly parents into Golden Years seniors residence. Apparently, the developers had gone bankrupt, and the farm had been vacant for many years. She wondered briefly how the Hensons had adjusted to city life. They’d spent their entire lives farming, and now they were without even a balcony to enjoy the fresh air. But then again, they were known for their miserable temperaments. Maybe their children didn’t care. Certainly, Evie thought, she’d have no trouble putting her father into a home.

  Whatever, the old farm was about to serve a new purpose. A halfway house. A refuge for her and Kazzam.

  This was not how Evie had imagined part three of her plan. Heading off into the night with a horse and no definite destination was out of her comfort zone. What if Aunt Mary wasn’t home when she called? Or on holiday? Would she and Kazzam have to stay hidden for weeks until she answered? What if her father called the police when he noticed his horse gone, and she was sent to jail? Evie’s head was spinning.

  Keep cool. It’ll all work out. One thing for sure was that she could not turn back. Not on her life.

  Traffic was light as they hacked along in the dark. Kazzam didn’t seem to mind the occasional cars and trucks that drove by. He stepped out with energy and purpose, ears forward and alert. Evie patted his neck and said, “You seem to know where we’re going, boy!”

  They trotted along for twenty minutes, and Evie began to feel good inside. Free. The stars popped out of the dark blanket of sky, one by one, and the fresh night air was exhilarating. Evie thought of herself as brave and adventurous; a woman of the world, a person who would fulfill her destiny, stop at nothing, take matters into her own hands. She sang show tunes aloud. “The hi-ills are ali-ive with the sound of mu-usic.…”

  The first of the two highways came into view. The Henson property was right there in front of them, directly ahead. There were four lanes of traffic, and the road was busier than she’d expected on a Saturday night. The bright headlights and the loud engine whines were unfamiliar to Kazzam. He’d never seen this many cars and trucks moving so fast. She felt her first pang of concern and tightened her legs on her horse’s sides.

  Kazzam began to hesitate. His head went up. His steps got shorter and his body movement became a bit stilted. Too late, Evie realized that he’d picked up on her anxiety, so she tried to calm herself. She took a deep breath and made an effort to relax her body. She brought Kazzam back to a walk, and cooed, “Good boy, Kazzam. No problem.”

  The horse snorted. He shook his head. He pranced on the spot and twisted, trying to turn back. His every instinct was to run away from the scary sights and sounds. Evie stayed very still on his quivering back and tried to get things under control. She patted his neck and kept speaking quietly. “Easy boy. Good boy. Easy there, Kazzam.”

  Then he reared up on his hind legs and whinnied.

  Evie worried that her plan was about to fail before it had really even started.

  No, she thought, I cannot fail. It’s not just about me anymore. If I turn back now, what will happen to Kazzam?

  She took her feet out of the stirrups, hopped down to the ground, and stood with the nervous animal. He pulled away and pawed the ground. Thoroughbreds are high-strung, and once excited take a while to calm down. Evie was patient. She didn’t fight him, but didn’t let him race away, either. After five minutes of practising patience, Evie felt Kazzam’s apprehension abate. He lowered his head and snorted.

  She said, “Let’s walk for a bit, okay, boy?” She calmly ran up his stirrups so they wouldn’t bump his sides and proceeded to lead him down the side of the road toward the busy highway.

  To soothe the horse and herself, as well, she began to sing an old gospel song she’d learned at camp. “Rocka ma soul in the bosom of Abraham, Rocka ma soul in the bosom of Abraham, Rocka ma soul in the bosom of Abraham, Oh-h, rocka ma so-oul....”

  It seemed to work, and Kazzam kept walking forward. The lights changed, thankfully, as Evie and her horse got to the intersection. The north- and southbound traffic came to a halt. Evie kept her eyes forward and marched onto the highway, still singing loudly. Kazzam kept pace and together they managed to cross the road.

  Relief flooded her body. She kept walking and singing until they were well past the highway. When she saw that the ditch along the road was steep enough to use as a mounting block, she said, “I’m getting back up, boy.”

  She pulled the left stirrup down along the leather and kept walking. She led Kazzam into the ditch. Still moving forward, she lightly jumped up into the saddle before he knew what was happening.

  Kazzam remained settled and content, and they trotted on until the next highway. This one was half the size of the first, and the traffic was minimal. Evie tried not to show any concern and continued singing, “… the ci-ircle of li-ife.…” By good fortune, there were no cars when they got to the intersection, and they rode right through to the other side.

  Evie smiled broadly. The two highways had been safely crossed and they had only three more concessions to go — one straight ahead, then a left turn and two more. They trotted the first two and walked the entire third, to cool Kazzam down.

  There, in front of them, the old Henson barn stood black against the night sky. It looked spooky with its missing boards and tilted silhouette. But at least it was still there. The farmhouse was not. In its place was a huge pile of caved-in bricks and lumber.

  They walked along the road, past the old driveway and the falling fences, until they got to the barnyard gate. Evie slid down from Kazzam and gave his ears a rub.

  She led him through the unhinged gate toward the dark, decrepit building. It leaned dangerously to one side and smelled of mouldy hay and wood rot. Kazzam shook his head and cleared his nose. His eyes rolled at her.

  “I know. But it’s better than nothing, don’t you think?”

  Evie wasn’t sure herself. It looked like it might fall down.

  Kazzam fidgeted and didn’t seem too happy about this place. Evie couldn’t blame him. The stables at Maple Mills were luxurious, especially by comparison.

  Evie continued to investigate. By the light of the moon she could see a separate fenced area with a small building. That might be a possibility. The split-rail fence was rickety but still standing, and the ancient board gate was still on its hinges. She unlatched it and pushed it open. The ensuing creak was loud enough to startle Kazzam.

  “Easy, boy. You’ve escaped a dire fate at the hands of my father and faced two highways tonight. A little rust shouldn’t upset you.”

  He trembled with apprehension and snorted, but walked through with her. She closed the gate behind him slowly to minimize the noise, then looked around the small yard.

  In the dark it was difficult to know exactly the condition, but the walk-in shelter seemed to be okay. In any case, it was much better than the derelict barn, and the roof leaked no moonlight. After assuring herself that the fences enclosed the paddock entirely, she took Kazzam’s saddle off and removed his bridle. They would stay here for the night.

  She watched him check out the small field and nibble some grass. He then dropped to his knees and rolled over onto his back to give it a good scratch. He rolled over twice before he stood up and shook his body from head to toe. Evie was satisfied. Horses don’t roll unless they feel safe.

  Evie carried his tack into the shelter and looked for a place to put it. She squinted into the murky darkness and waited until her eyes adjusted. At the back in the corner was a pile of odds and ends. A broken pitchfork, ceramic bits and pieces, a rubber pail, and — what luck! — a dusty old wooden sawhorse. Maybe it’s a sign that things will turn out well, she thought, as she placed the saddle on the sawhorse and hung the bridle on the end. Who needs a fancy tack room?

  Out of the corner of her eye, she saw a large, irregular, light-brown lump on the ground. What was it? She kept perfectly still and stared at it. It didn’t move. She could not identify it by sight. Cautiousl
y, Evie crept closer to see what it was. She really didn’t want to find a dead body, animal or human, and the hairs on her neck stood up straight.

  Gathering all her courage, she kicked it hard. It was a pile of burlap feed bags.

  Evie shuddered, then suddenly laughed. What an idiot! Talk about an overactive imagination! She lifted the top bag and shook it out. It didn’t smell bad at all. Maybe a little like wet dog, but not rot or some disgusting dead thing. The burlap bags would really come in handy. She rubbed Kazzam down with the one she had in her hand.

  Evie felt good that she’d thought of this place. They had shelter, there was grass in the paddock for Kazzam to eat, and the pile of burlap feed bags could serve as her bed for the night. The only thing missing was water.

  She fumbled around, looking for a tap. She had seen a large aluminum basin upside down beside the gate. Interesting. She strode toward it and smacked right into something metal and large, stinging her thigh. An old- fashioned water pump. We’re getting closer, she thought, rubbing away the pain.

  She grabbed the handle and pumped. It squeaked noisily and the handle worked far too easily. Evie knew little about water pumps, but the phrase “priming the pump” came into her head. What did it mean? Knowing that might have been helpful.

  She kept pumping. If nothing happened after a few minutes she’d have to go in search of water. She’d noticed lights up the road at the next intersection. If she remembered correctly, there were a few houses there, a gas station and a variety store.

  But something was happening. The pump handle was becoming harder to lift up and push down. Promising. All at once, water gushed out. Evie thought it looked rusty in the moonlight, so she kept pumping madly until the water became clear. She grabbed the basin, turned it over under the spout, and resumed pumping. She washed out the basin as best she could and began to fill it up.

  Water, beautiful, clear water came rushing out.Wonderful, plentiful water for Kazzam. The gelding wandered over and sniffed it. He splashed it with his upper lip and sniffed it again. The water kept coming as Kazzam put his mouth into the cool liquid and drank his fill.

  When the basin was full to the brim, Evie rinsed her hands and arms and face. She let the water run down her back and front, and she combed it through her sweaty hair. Now she leaned over the trough and drank as much as she wanted. It tasted surprisingly good.

  Evie felt content. A wave of fatigue came over her. She stretched her arms over her head and yawned. It had been a very long day, starting early that morning with the big Caledon race. She’d call Aunt Mary first thing in the morning and hope that her aunt was there to take the call.

  Evie gratefully sank into the pile of burlap, using her sweatshirt as a pillow and her windbreaker as a blanket. It was a warm, breezeless night, and the sound of Kazzam quietly foraging grass comforted her. She was sound asleep within minutes.

  She dreamed that a cold, wet nose was sniffing her face. She rolled over. The nose pushed at one of her hands. She moved her arm and adjusted the windbreaker.

  Now something thumped on her back. Evie sat up quickly, wide awake, and looked around. She could see nothing. The moon had disappeared, and the sky was pitch-black. She could barely make out the silhouette of Kazzam, outside grazing.

  What was in her shed? What had come so close? And why was Kazzam so tranquil when some large creature with a cold nose might have attacked and eaten her?

  Evie decided that it must’ve been a dream. It had felt very real, but if any animal had been there, the gelding would’ve been tense and pacing and totally upset. She sighed and drifted off, telling herself to quit imagining things. Soon, she was back in a deep sleep.

  The next morning Evie awoke and yawned happily. In daylight, she was pleased with what she saw. The shelter was old but sturdy, and the paddock wasn’t overrun with burdocks and weeds, the way one might expect of an untended patch of grass. Kazzam was having another drink at the basin, and he looked rested.

  She stretched. She’d get up and go to the variety store along the road to pick up a few things to eat. Her stomach rumbled at the thought. She’d find a phone there, too, to call Aunt Mary. They’d figure out where to meet in Toronto and how to find Evie’s mother. The only question was whether Kazzam would be fine at the Hensons’ for the day. Evie wasn’t quite sure. She’d have to think about it a bit more.

  Also, she had a huge amount of cash. Maybe she should bury some in case she was robbed? Evie would take just enough money and hide the rest.

  As she lay considering how much money to bring to the store, she realized that the right side of her body was very warm. Much warmer than her left. She glanced to her right and there it was.

  A dog. A large black dog. Nestled into the edge of the pile of burlap. That’s why the bags had a dog smell. This was the dog’s bed. The cold nose and the heavy thumping in the night. It’d been a tail! It all made sense. It had been real!

  Evie studied the dog as it slept. It was curled up so she couldn’t tell if it was male or female. It appeared young and healthy. Its black coat was short and shiny. The dog wasn’t wearing a collar, although fur was missing where a collar might have been, and Evie could see some sore, red skin. She dared not pat the dog before she knew if it was friendly, but why would it sleep beside her if it didn’t want company?

  Evie couldn’t help herself. She stroked one of the dog’s long silky ears. It looked up, surprised, and in one quick motion darted away. Now she was able to take a good look. The dog was female. Her body was long and lean and much taller than it looked curled up. There was a little white crest on her chest and a splatter of white on each of her four paws. She stared at Evie with innocent, unsure, dark-brown eyes. They inspected each other, and after a minute both decided the other was okay. The dog wagged her long, skinny tail just a little.

  Evie spoke softly to her. “Good girl. Nice girl.”

  The dog’s tail wagged more. She crouched down to Evie, licked her nose, and then retreated. From the back of her throat came a gulping noise. Not a growl or a whimper, just an odd little noise.

  Evie smiled. “What’s your name, girl? Are you lost?” She stretched out her hand for the young dog to sniff. The dog came close again, still wagging her tail. Evie sat up. The dog approached, made her funny throat sound, and lay down exactly in the spot she’d spent the night, right beside Evie.

  Evie stroked her soft black fur. She said, “You need a name. Everybody does. Hmm. You’re black and shiny and you make the oddest noise I’ve ever heard from a dog. More like a dove. I’ll name you ... Magpie. Yes, Magpie it is.”

  Evie took a good look at Magpie’s neck. It was raw but not infected or bleeding. She’d get something to help it heal when she went to the store.

  Evie already felt very attached to this long-legged animal that had appeared out of nowhere. Maybe because they were both looking for a better home. It must be destiny. Why else would they both have come to this exact place at exactly the same time? Something intangible had drawn them together.

  Same with Kazzam. He was nervous around and suspicious of other people. She’d watched the grooms piling bales of hay behind his back feet so he couldn’t kick them when they combed his tail. And he needed two grooms to pick the dirt out his hooves. One would hold his tail while the other would lift his feet. Even then, they watched their backs because he bit very quickly and accurately. It was worse when they tried to ride him. His buck was legendary. One by one, the exercise riders had refused to get on him.

  For whatever reason, Evie and Kazzam were attached to each other. She would do everything she could to protect him from her father.

  She stretched again and smiled, feeling optimistic about her plans. Things seemed to be falling into place.

  6

  Aunt Mary

  It was already warm and the day ahead promised to be hot and sunny. Evie tidied herself up as best she could. She tucked some money and Aunt Mary’s number in her pocket, and hid her knapsack with the rest of the money
under the pile of burlap sacks. She patted Kazzam’s neck. “I’ll be back before you know it. Don’t go anywhere. Stay and eat grass. I’ll try to buy some oats.”

  Magpie followed Evie through the gate and down the road. Maybe someone in the store will know who this nice dog belongs to. But she hoped not.

  She walked along the highway with Magpie, who had her ears pricked up and her tail wagging happily. Evie smiled and skipped a couple of steps. She felt positive about her adventure as she double-checked her pocket for Aunt Mary’s phone number.

  When they reached the store, Evie asked Magpie to sit on the porch to wait. “Bert’s Variety” was written in faded letters over the entrance, and a bell tinkled as she opened the screen door. The old floors were wooden and the place smelled of ice cream. She followed her nose. There! A whole array of tubs of assorted flavours. Evie’s mouth watered. Maybe breakfast could start with dessert!

  An elderly man stood behind the counter, possibly Bert himself, reading a newspaper. Evie approached him. “Do you have a pay phone I could use?” she asked.

  The man looked at her over his glasses and pointed to an old white telephone on the wall. “Local?”

  “Yes. I live on the Third Line, west of Highway 10.”

  “I meant is it a ... local ... call.” He over-enunciated the last two words as if Evie were hard of hearing.

  Deafness seemed to be a theme, thought Evie. “It’s to Toronto. Is that local from here?”

  “Yes. Be brief.” He resumed reading and muttered, “Nobody asks for the phone anymore, all those cells and text messages, twitters and tweets. I don’t understand any of it, and I don’t intend to learn.”

  With the phone in her hand, Evie found herself very nervous. Aunt Mary would not be expecting her call. What should she say? Evie scolded herself. She really hadn’t prepared this part of the plan very well. She took the letter out of her pocket and pressed the numbers carefully.