Jockey Girl

by Shelley Peterson

“Trust me, he knows. Everybody knows you’re Molly Peebles. Jerry believes in Kazzam. And Jerry wants to talk to you about racing. I have absolutely no doubt.”

  “Wow.” Evie felt her entire mood lighten, but she couldn’t let herself get too excited. “If you’re right.”

  “Oh, I’m right. I’ve known Jerry for thirty-odd years. I know how he thinks.” She parked the truck beside the house and looked toward the barn. “Speak of the devil.”

  Evie followed her aunt’s gaze and saw Jerry Johnston getting out of his car.

  “He couldn’t even wait for your call,” said Mary.

  9

  The Breeze

  Aunt Mary was right. All Jerry Johnston wanted to do was talk about racing. And Evie was very happy to listen.

  They sat together in the living area beside the kitchen as the sun set through the big windows. Evie enjoyed a mug of hot chocolate, Aunt Mary sipped a glass of white wine, and Jerry talked while nursing a beer.

  “I saw the tapes. Evie, you were sensational. You let No Justice run his own race. He had a really rough start. Most jocks would have freaked and started whipping, but not you. You made sure he knew he wasn’t in trouble with you, and then you helped him get back in the game. You tried to manage him on the stretch, but as soon as you saw he wasn’t buying, you changed your tune. You left him alone and he won like a champ. A real champ.” Jerry wiped a tear from his eye. “See what you did? You made a grown man cry.”

  Evie sat very still with her eyes wide open. She wasn’t used to being complimented. She liked it, but was a little uncomfortable.

  “Well,” said Mary, “high praise, indeed. So what are we going to do about it?”

  “We’re going to run No Justice in the Queen’s Plate. He’s already entered, and renewed. Purse is one million dollars. He’s the best Canadian-bred three-year old I’ve ever seen.” Jerry Johnston was almost bouncing on his chair. His face was so animated that Evie looked to Aunt Mary for reassurance.

  “It’s okay, Evie,” she said with a grin. “Jerry gets like this when he’s got a plan cooking.”

  Evie raised her eyebrows and looked back at Jerry. “I like your plan, I do, but is my father really going to allow him to race? And do you have a jockey?”

  Jerry picked up his beer and swallowed the last of it in one gulp. “Good questions. Both of them. The jockey problem is real. Nobody wants to ride him. But we can get around that, with luck. It’s all in the details.”

  “And Grayson?” asked Mary.

  “Grayson isn’t going to like it. That needs more thought. Another detail. But Grayson ordered me to get him off his payroll, which has happened, thanks to you taking him in. We can make this happen. We have to. No Justice will win it. I think he’s got —”

  “Can I ask you something else?” Evie interrupted.

  “Of course.”

  “Why were you fired?”

  Jerry wiped a bit of beer foam from his lips. “Look, it was coming. Your father and I had serious disagreements. The surprise is that I lasted so long.”

  “Disagreements about all the horses? Or only Kazzam?” asked Evie.

  “In truth, only about that black racehorse of yours. I didn’t want to give up.”

  “You wanted to overturn the ban?” asked Mary.

  “Yes. But before that, I wanted the vet to take a few x-rays to see if he was bucking out of pain. I wanted to change his feed in case the oats were making him too hot. Try blinkers. A different bit. A new jockey.”

  “But Grayson didn’t want to spend any more money,” guessed Mary.

  “Right on,” Jerry nodded. “It’s like this. Grayson can’t stand anybody challenging him and I challenged him anyway. I’m not the first person he fired for that reason.”

  Evie decided to ask the question that had been on her mind since the night she ran away. “Would my father ever have a horse killed for insurance reasons?”

  Jerry looked stricken. “I would never do that!”

  Aunt Mary intervened. “That’s quite a loaded question, Evie.” She looked at Jerry. “Evie thought she overheard Grayson saying something about that in the barn.”

  “She heard right. But he wouldn’t actually do that. It was just a way of emphasizing his point.”

  “His point being for you to get rid of No Justice by the morning,” clarified Mary.

  “Exactly. And Evie solved my problem, and his, by running away and coming here. End of story.”

  “Thanks, Jerry,” said Evie. “I’m glad about that.” And she was. It was a great relief to know that Kazzam was not in danger of being killed for the insurance money.

  “Stay for dinner, Jerry?” asked Mary.

  “No, thanks. Gotta run.”

  “Another beer?”

  “Love one, but no. I’ll take a rain check.”

  “But as you’ve pointed out,” Evie said, “there are a lot of details to work out. When are we going to do that?”

  “Lots of time.”

  Evie had yet another question. “How old do you have to be, to be a jockey?”

  Jerry scratched his nose. “Eighteen. And apprentices must be at least sixteen. Why?”

  “Just curious,” answered Evie, reddening as she hoped that her question hadn’t appeared precocious.

  Jerry didn’t notice and went back to his train of thought. “We need to keep No Justice in training. He needs to be racing fit by June 24.” Jerry stood and straightened his tie. “I’ll come back tomorrow to train. What’s a good time for you, Mary?”

  “We’re going to Toronto. Can we make it 6 a.m.?”

  “Good. See you then. We’ll breeze him.” Jerry left the house as quickly as he’d arrived.

  “Breeze him?” Evie asked as the kitchen door slammed.

  “Let him run,” answered Mary. “Not push him, just let him run. You’re the rider, it seems, at least for tomorrow.” She winked as she took the wineglass and mugs to the sink.

  Evie sat in a daze. She was going to help train Kazzam to win the most prestigious race in Canada. Amazing! “I’m sixteen. Can I be an apprentice jockey?”

  Mary turned quickly, eyebrows raised. “Not a simple thing. But it’s something to work toward.”

  Evie smiled. She vowed to try.

  “Come on, girl! It’s late. Gotta look after the horses.”

  Evie and Aunt Mary walked across the grassy slope to the little barn, followed by the dogs. Tails were wagging and Evie was happy to observe that Magpie had been accepted as one of the pack. In a very short time, Simon and Garfunkel had completely welcomed her.

  Aunt Mary prepared the horse feed, mixing crunch with oats and a scoop of flax seed that had cooked in the slow cooker all day, to keep their coats glossy. Evie threw down some hay from the loft above and put a flake in each stall. She filled the buckets right up to the top with fresh water. Now they were ready to lead the horses in from the field to their freshly bedded stalls.

  Aunt Mary gave Evie a halter and lead shank, and they walked out to the gate. The horses all came running, three in one field and Kazzam in the next.

  “Whoa, there, buddies,” said Mary, smiling. “Everybody’s getting fed. You’d think I starved them.”

  She opened the gate and slipped a halter on Bendigo.

  “You take Paragon, Evie. He’s next.”

  They walked in with the first two and returned for the others. On the way back to the fields, they noticed that Kazzam and Christieloo were sniffing noses and checking each other out over the fence.

  “See how they’re standing together?” said Mary. “They’ve chosen to be friends. With the others gone, they can introduce themselves without fear of a jealous kick or bite.”

  Magpie had her dog friends and now it looked like Kazzam had a friend, too. At Maple Mills, nobody took the time to notice if horses liked each other or not, because two horses were never allowed to be in the same field. Separate turnout was the way racehorses lived their entire working lives to avoid the risk of a debilitating ki
ck. This was way better, Evie thought. These horses were allowed to be horses, and Aunt Mary treated them like individuals, not merely revenue-generating units. Evie felt a wave of contentment. She smiled. Aunt Mary was pretty cool, she thought. Being here might just work out.

  Aunt Mary led Christieloo, while Evie put the halter on Kazzam. She stroked his neck as they walked in the cooling evening air. “Do you want to run in the Queen’s Plate, boy?” she whispered. Kazzam lifted his upper lip and tossed his head. His loud neigh rang through the hills. Evie threw back her head and laughed aloud. Even though she’d just been kicked out of home, she had not felt this happy for a long time.

  Once the horses were looked after, they returned to the house and washed up in the bright kitchen. Aunt Mary told Evie where her room was, and Evie headed upstairs with her knapsack.

  When she opened the door, she was stunned. “Oh … my … gosh!” she whispered. Her room was perfect. She spun around and fell spread-eagled on the bed. Then, she lifted her head to be sure she wasn’t dreaming and giggled. She must be dreaming. A multipaned bay window overlooked the little stable, and a tiny gas fireplace was under a mantel. The wallpaper was a riot of colourful flowers, and the bedspread, bedskirt, and curtains were ivory eyelet. Antique embroidered cushions were thrown on the bed — horse-themed cushions, just like what Evie loved to collect. How amazing! she thought. She had so much in common with her aunt Mary. A lovely, comfortable, deep-pink armchair with matching ottoman finished the bedroom, sitting in the bay window ready for Evie to cuddle up with a book.

  She put away her few clothes in drawers that had been built into the closet, took another unbelieving look around the room, then descended the stairs to the kitchen.

  “It’s the most beautiful bedroom in the entire world!”

  Aunt Mary’s head was in the refrigerator. “I’m so glad you like it,” she said as she took out food and set it on the counter. “I’ll make us some eggs while you feed Magpie, Simon, and Garfunkel. The kibble is in the mud room and the bowls are on the floor. They’ll need water, too.”

  Evie jumped into action, feeling like part of the family, included and helpful. Her entire life until now had been on the outside looking in. The concept of family had been a strange and unrecognizable one. How could it be that she’d feel like this in a strange house, with a person she’d never met until today?

  She filled water bowls and poured out the kibble, then called Simon and Garfunkel. Because Magpie was new here, she fed her outside. She didn’t want a food fight on the first day. Once the dogs had gobbled their dinners, she let Magpie in. “You feel like family, too, don’t you, girl?” she whispered, and patted her head.

  “Welcome to Parson’s Bridge, dear Evie,” Aunt Mary said. She put dinner on the table. Sliced tomatoes, fresh bread, and a cheese omelette. “I want you to feel right at home.”

  Evie suddenly choked up. She couldn’t speak, so she just nodded.

  That night, Evie slept better in her eyelet bed than she had for a long, long time. When the sun began to creep through her curtains, lighting the flowery wallpaper with streaks of lemon, she stretched and yawned and smiled from ear to ear.

  Her alarm hadn’t yet rung. She luxuriated in the down bed, thinking. This morning, she was going to exercise Kazzam with Jerry Johnston, the famous Thoroughbred trainer. Was this really happening to her, the misfit? The loser? The girl with no talents and no discernible future, and no friends since the embarrassing incident? Things were changing for the better. She stretched her arms and grinned.

  And after the breeze, they were going to Toronto to find her mother. Angela. The woman who’d given birth to her.

  Evie stopped smiling. Because Angela had disappeared when Evie was only three, she had very few memories of her, and even these were hazy. She wasn’t sure if they were even real.

  Uneasiness settled in. What kind of person would she find? Was her mother crazy? Doped up? Did Angela want Evie to find her? Her stomach dropped. Evie became increasingly unsure about the Toronto expedition.

  Maybe the truck wouldn’t start. Or she might fall off Kazzam and break her leg. Evie scolded herself for her negative thinking. Finding Angela was the whole goal! They were going to Toronto today and that was that. End of story.

  Evie got out of bed and pulled on her riding pants and a T-shirt. The alarm rang and she quickly shut it down.

  When she crept down the narrow stairs to the kitchen, Aunt Mary was already up. A bacon sandwich and orange juice sat ready at her place at the round kitchen table. The house smelled delicious.

  “Sleep well?” asked Aunt Mary with a smile. She was dressed for the barn in jeans and a polo shirt.

  “Best sleep of my life.”

  “Good! Sit. Eat. I’ve already fed the dogs. Jerry is down at the barn already. He’s excited about this.”

  “So am I!” Evie ate every crumb on her plate and downed the juice.

  Mary took a steaming mug of coffee, and they walked down to the stable with the three happy dogs.

  The air was clear and cool. Evie inhaled deeply and filled her lungs with fresh morning scents. She loved the smell of country air — pine, earth, wild flowers, and the unmistakable, glorious scent of horse. She took in the way the morning sun lit up the fields in striations of pink and green through the evaporating mists rising from behind the trees. Gorgeous. She felt overwhelmed.

  “Better late than never!” chided Jerry as they walked into the barn.

  “We’re exactly on time!” retorted Mary. “You’re always early. That’s your problem, not ours.”

  Kazzam stood in cross-ties in the aisle. The horse bobbed his head at Evie and nickered. She let him nuzzle her as she scratched his ears.

  Jerry brushed Kazzam’s silky black coat with vigour. He glanced at Mary briefly. “I asked Murray to come. He’s on his way.”

  “Murray Planno?” questioned Mary.

  “Yep. Gotta get this thing happening and we need his help to do it.”

  “You don’t waste any time!”

  “Turns out he was at the Caledon Horse Race. Said the girl knows her stuff.”

  Evie was puzzled. “What are you talking about? Who’s Murray?”

  “Murray is the racing steward,” answered Mary. “He’s the man who can get things organized for No Justice to be allowed to race.”

  “But how?”

  “Later. Lots of time to fill you in. Right now, just ride this horse and show us what he can do.” Jerry leaned down to pick the dirt and pebbles out of Kazzam’s hooves. “This is a fine animal. His muscle tone is excellent and his spirit is keen. I’m glad to see it.”

  Kazzam did look fine. Evie was very proud of him. He wasn’t a big horse, but his conformation was perfect for speed, with broad chest, strong neck, sloping shoulders, muscular hind end, straight legs, and springy pasterns. His coat shone with health and his tail was full. He stood still and picked up each hoof in turn, and his eyes sparkled with mischief and intelligence.

  “Good feet, too,” added Jerry, from his bent position.

  “Very important in a racehorse.”

  Kazzam suddenly arched his neck down to Jerry’s buttocks and gave him a nip. Jerry stood up quickly.

  “Kazzam!” scolded Evie.

  “Leave him alone,” said Jerry. He rubbed his sore rear.

  “As I said, he’s got spirit. I like that.”

  10

  Murray Planno

  Evie put on her helmet and gloves and opened the door to the tiny tack room to get Kazzam’s saddle and bridle for the breeze. It was neat and well organized, and smelled of linseed saddle soap and leather. Evie loved everything at Parson’s Bridge.

  “Put that saddle back, Evie,” said Jerry. “We’re using this one.” He pointed to the saddle rack in the aisle.

  “A racing saddle?” asked Evie. There was not much to it. It weighed hardly anything. “I’ve never used one.”

  “Get used to it.”

  “If you say so.” Evie returned
her saddle to the tack room. When she came back Jerry was already leading Kazzam out the door. She followed them outside and along the fence where the other horses had assembled with great curiosity. She took a minute to give the noses of Paragon, Bendigo, and little Christieloo a kiss along the way.

  Jerry gestured impatiently. “Murray’s late. Come, Evie. I’ll give you a leg up.”

  “Where should I take him?” she asked as she zipped up her crash vest and snapped on her helmet.

  Jerry pointed to a huge open field behind the barn. “There. It’s a mile and a quarter.”

  Evie nodded, noting the wide, mowed track all along the inside of the fence. She took Kazzam’s reins in her left hand and grabbed his mane in her right. She bent her left leg and Jerry cupped his hands under her shin. “On three. One, two, and three.”

  She jumped on three, and sprang into the saddle. Her heart pounded with excitement. This was her first day of training with a real trainer! Kazzam felt the excitement, too. His body was tense and his ears alert. She patted his neck and cooed gently to calm him.

  Jerry and Mary stood together talking. They nodded and gestured. It looked to Evie like they were discussing something serious.

  “Good boy, Kazzam,” she whispered. She organized her short stirrups and got familiar with the small racing saddle. It felt like she was crouching over Kazzam’s neck, with only her feet holding on to his body, not her calves as she was accustomed. She tried different degrees of hip flexion and finally got somewhat comfortable.

  Kazzam’s skin was twitching. He wanted to run. “We’re going for a breeze,” Evie said to the horse. “I’m going to train you to run in the Queen’s Plate. You have to be good for your jockey, too, whoever agrees to ride you.” She kept talking, hoping to soothe his nerves. “You’ve made it hard on yourself. You have to stop dumping people.”

  Kazzam tossed his head up and down impatiently. “Hang on, boy.” He began to dance. She looked at the adults, still deep in talk. She would not be able to hold him much longer. “Hello?” Evie called. “Jerry? Aunt Mary?”

  “Keep him walking until Murray gets here,” Jerry yelled. He didn’t look at her, and Aunt Mary held up one finger to signal to wait one minute more.