Jockey Girl

by Shelley Peterson

  Suddenly Kazzam reared up on his hind legs and took off at a gallop.

  “Sorry!” Evie yelled. She steered Kazzam into the big field Jerry had pointed to. She prayed there were no groundhog holes.

  Once in the field Evie let up a little on the reins. Immediately, Kazzam surged forward, surprising Evie with the force of his impulsion. They flew. She crouched as low as she could over his back, like in the poster of Imogene Watson on her bedroom wall. The stirrups still felt way too short.

  When they rounded the first bend Kazzam stretched out, easily covering the ground and reaching a speed that Evie remembered from the Caledon Horse Race. She let him go. Evie wondered if they were going too fast at the first turn, so she pulled him in a little. He resisted and ran faster. Evie felt icy needles of fear in her chest. This was a little scary. She had no brakes whatsoever, and with the stirrups so short, no legs to hold on with.

  Decision time. Bail and break her neck, or go with the flow. She forced herself to inhale and realized that she hadn’t breathed for a while. Odd, she thought, why people do that. Why do we stop breathing when we need air the most?

  While she was wondering about breathing, Kazzam’s strides had become steadier and more rhythmical. He’d found his perfect racing speed. This was not scary at all. In fact it was thrilling and totally awesome. They pounded along the grass track and around the corner, heading back toward where they’d begun.

  The home stretch. Like the big time.

  Evie started to smile. This was really cool. Really, really cool! She could ride like this for years. The shortness of the stirrups made sense, now that she was perched up on top like a little bird, letting Kazzam have complete use of his back, haunches, and shoulder muscles.

  Tears of speed and joy mingled on Evie’s face. Nothing in the world could stop them now!

  They tore up the ground as they pounded toward the gate where they’d begun. Jerry was waving a big, white feed bag to get her attention. Evie noticed a person standing with them, looking down at something in his hand.

  Aunt Mary started waving at her, too. Evie wasn’t sure she could stop Kazzam, but try she must. “Whoa, boy,” she said. “Steady, Kazzam.” He slowed just a little, so she patted his neck and relaxed the reins. “Good boy.”

  By the time they sailed past the gate, Kazzam’s strides had eased. Then, he simply transitioned down into a trot and then a walk.

  “Nice work, Kazzam!” Evie said as she walked him away to let him cool down. He was breathing hard but not puffing, and his coat was hardly damp with sweat. Regardless, she knew how important it was to keep a horse walking until his breath was perfectly normal. She looked over at the adults huddled together. They were talking with great animation.

  After ten minutes of walking, Evie slid to the ground. She rubbed Kazzam’s forehead and kissed him right on the nose.

  “Well, golly be!” exclaimed a hearty voice. “We got something here for sure!”

  Evie turned to see who was talking. She gulped.

  There, in a plaid vest barely covering his big belly and a crumpled old fedora hat, was the same man who’d been the judge of the Caledon Horse Race. The same man who had handed her the prize money.

  Evie stood fixed to the ground beside Kazzam and watched him chat with Jerry, dread growing in her stomach.

  “He’s a stunner, Jerry. The real deal.”

  “I wouldn’t steer you wrong, Murray.”

  “You never have. I never doubted you. But, Jerry! His time is crazy fast!” Murray lifted the stopwatch up and showed the face to Jerry. “For a mile and a quarter? Crazy fast!”

  Mary saw Evie’s discomfort and came over to her. “Great ride, Evie.”

  Evie ignored her praise and turned away. “That man?”

  “Murray Planno?”

  “He gave me the prize money. He thinks I’m Molly Peebles.”

  Mary put her hand on Evie’s shoulder. “He knows the whole story. I told you, everybody knows.” She smiled warmly.

  Evie relaxed a little.

  Mary continued, “Because No Justice was banned from racing the last time he dumped a rider, we need a steward to overthrow the ban. We need Murray to help us.” She turned Evie around to face her. “In fact, it’s only because Murray was at the Caledon race that day that he agreed to even think about it. He’s a fan of the horse.”

  Evie checked Aunt Mary’s face to see if she was just trying to make her feel better. “Really?”

  “Really. Let me introduce you.” Mary took Evie by the arm, with Kazzam by her side, and approached the men. “Murray, I’d like you to meet my great-niece, Evangeline Gibb. Evie, I’d like you to meet the racing steward, Mr. Murray Planno.”

  Evie mumbled, “Pleased to meet you.”

  Murray slapped her on the back. “Wow, girl! You can ride! And what a horse!” He reached out to slap Kazzam’s neck.

  Kazzam reared back, startled by Murray’s enthusiasm, and Magpie came out of the barn growling softly.

  “Steady boy,” said Evie to Kazzam. She grabbed Magpie’s neck fur to keep her away from Murray. He seemed nice enough, she thought, but he didn’t know the effect he had on animals.

  Jerry got down to business. “You see why I want him to run, Murray. We need the ban lifted.”

  “Agreed. Done. He’s not a loony, and man, can he run!”

  “So you’ll help?”

  “Yes, I will. And I have a perfect jockey for him.”

  Jerry and Mary glanced at each other anxiously.

  Murray waved away their concerns. “I know all about his jockey problems. But he’s got speed and my jock wants to win. It’ll be a great show for the folks. I can see the press!” Murray spread his hands in the air as if the headlines were hovering over his head. “‘Devil Horse to Run in the Plate,’ followed by ‘Devil Horse Bedevils Field!’ and then, ‘Devil Horse Leaves Them in the Dust!’”

  Jerry grinned. “Thanks, Murray! Appreciate your help. We don’t have a lot of time. Queen’s Plate’s coming right up. What’s the next step?”

  Murray pursed his lips and rubbed his hands together in thought. “Grayson doesn’t want him, right? Wants him sold ASAP?”

  Jerry nodded. “Right. My thought was that once we —”

  “I’ll buy him. I brought my trailer, just in case.”

  “We don’t want to sell him, Murray,” Mary said quickly.

  “We called you to help us lift the ban.”

  “But he’s for sale and I’ll buy him. Today. Right now.” Murray pulled his cellphone out of his shirt pocket and pressed some numbers. “I’ll get the ban lifted.”

  Evie stood quietly, stunned. She wasn’t sure what was going on. Kazzam nuzzled her pocket and found the mint she’d forgotten to give him. Absentmindedly she stroked the black horse’s nose and felt his soft ears. Things were happening way too fast.

  “Grayson! Glad you answered. Planno here with J.J. What’ll it take for me to own No Justice?”

  Aunt Mary put her hand on Evie’s shoulder. Jerry looked dumbfounded.

  Murray grinned hugely. “Done deal, Grayson. I’ll bring a certified cheque to you this morning when my bank opens at nine.” He pressed end and did a jig on the spot.

  Jerry had pulled himself together. “Murray, hold on. We fully intend to run this horse ourselves....”

  “I’m sorry. He’s mine. And thank you for calling me! I’m loading him up and taking him home.” Murray unfastened Kazzam’s girth and handed Evie the saddle. “Oh, Jerry? Special bonus. Grayson’s real happy with you for selling the horse this fast. Maybe he’ll give you back your job.” He winked broadly at them. “Win win, and all that.”

  Mary was speechless. She went into the barn and returned with a lead shank and Kazzam’s halter. It was black leather with his registered name, No Justice, stamped into a brass plate on the side.

  Evie unbuckled the bridle with a hollow stomach. This horse was her friend. This horse was the reason she had any happiness in her life at all. He’d b
een her secret project. He loved her, and she loved him!

  Kazzam seemed to understand that Evie was upset. He nestled his face into her torso and held still.

  Murray stepped between them. “I know how you feel, girl. But think of the horse, not yourself. I’m his best chance. He’ll be famous. Be proud of his future.”

  “I’ve got lots of money,” Evie blurted. “I’ll buy him back from you.”

  Murray laughed good-naturedly. “And how much money is that?”

  “One thousand, five hundred and fifty dollars, minus twenty dollars’ worth of groceries.”

  “Ho, ho, ho. Understand, this is the horse of my dreams.” Murray grabbed Kazzam’s bridle behind his ears and slipped it off over his head. “You shoulda thought about buying him before I did.” Expertly he replaced it with the halter and snapped on the lead shank. He turned to go.

  Kazzam reared up and twisted away. He ran off, dragging the lead shank from his halter.

  Evie felt her Aunt Mary step beside her. “You have to help. You’re the only person who can get that horse on the trailer.”

  Anger boiled up in Evie’s chest. “No way! Kazzam doesn’t care who has money and who owns him on paper. He trusts me! He doesn’t trust anybody else!”

  Mary’s voice became more formal. The cool edge made Evie pay attention. “He’s not your horse, Evie. He belonged to your father. Your father has sold him to Murray. Now get out there and catch him before he breaks a leg.”

  Evie didn’t like it, but she understood. If Kazzam stepped on the rope, he could go tumbling and injure himself badly. She would buy him back one day when she had lots and lots of money. Murray wouldn’t laugh at her then.

  She walked out into the field and picked up two blades of grass. She whistled through them the same way she’d called him every night to train.

  Kazzam stopped running. He turned and looked at her, startled. Then he began to trot back to her, ears forward, an expectant, happy look in his eyes.

  Tears ran down Evie’s face. She was betraying him. Why was life so complicated and wrong? If Kazzam could choose his owner, it sure wouldn’t be Murray.

  Silently, Evie led her beautiful black horse up the ramp and tied him in the horse trailer. “I’m so sorry, Mister Racehorse. This doesn’t make sense to me, either. But I’ll be there if you need me,” she promised. “I’ll come and get you if you’re in trouble, no matter what.”

  Evie rubbed the heart-shaped star on his forehead for the last time and walked down the ramp to the ground. She couldn’t look back. She kept walking, right up to the house and into her room, where she fell on the bed face-first. She couldn’t even cry.

  Magpie followed her. She jumped on the bed and curled up beside her. Evie reached out and rubbed the dog’s fur. At least she had Magpie.

  Aunt Mary entered Evie’s room so silently that when she touched Evie on the shoulder, Evie startled and shot up from the bed.

  “More bad news, Evie.”

  “What could be considered bad after that?”

  “Diane, my vet, just called.” Mary paused. Her tone was gentle. “I’ll just say it. Magpie’s chip was inserted by the Humane Society when she was adopted. The chip located her owners, Mel and Rod Usher. They want her back.”

  This couldn’t be true. Evie searched her great-aunt’s face for any sign of teasing. There was none. She slumped back onto the bed and moaned.

  “I’m sorry, my darling girl,” said Aunt Mary. “I wish these things weren’t happening, too.”

  Evie looked into Magpie’s earnest face. The dog tilted her head one way and then the other, trying to understand what was making Evie so miserable. “It’s okay, girl. It’ll be okay. Someone is missing you terribly. I would.”

  To Aunt Mary she said, “Let’s get this over with. Can we take Magpie home now?”

  “Yes. You’re a brave and wonderful girl. I know how hard this must be.”

  Aunt Mary was wrong. Evie knew she was neither brave nor wonderful. She wanted to get under the covers and die.

  11

  The Ushers

  After showers and breakfast, Mary and Evie got in the truck and were on their way to Toronto. Magpie sat at Evie’s sandalled feet, looking up at her questioningly with her head in the girl’s lap. The dog knew something was about to happen, but she didn’t know what. Only that her new friend was sad. The dog was right, Evie thought. I am sad.

  There was a lot on her mind. After all the thinking and planning and imagining, today Evie would actually meet her mother. But did her mother want to meet her? If she’d wanted to reconnect, wouldn’t she already have done that?

  To make a good first impression, Evie had put some effort into her appearance. After the breeze, she’d washed her long red hair and brushed it into a ponytail. She was wearing her embroidered, white sleeveless blouse with her jeans. She hadn’t packed anything else, anyway, but when she’d checked her appearance in the mirror, she thought it would do just fine.

  She sat quietly, with one hand on Magpie’s head, unable to speak. On top of her nervousness about meeting her mother, her heart was so heavy she thought it might drop to her feet. The loss of Kazzam plus the agony of returning Magpie was too much to bear in one day. The black dog tilted her head and made her funny throat noise.

  “You know it’s the only thing to do, Evie,” said Mary kindly. “You can’t keep a dog that doesn’t belong to you.”

  “Or a horse!” Evie spat out. She surprised herself with how loud and bitter her voice sounded. “Why didn’t Jerry or you or I buy Kazzam first? What was the big plan, anyway? To race him against my father’s wishes? With no jockey? It wouldn’t have worked. It was all stupid.”

  Mary drove in silence for a few minutes. “You’re right, of course. In retrospect, Jerry and I wanted to take one step at a time. But we had no idea that Murray would want to buy him. If we’d bought No Justice and the ban wasn’t lifted, we’d own a racehorse that wasn’t allowed to race. He’d be worthless.”

  “At least he’d be mine!” Evie retorted. But she softened a little as she thought about her aunt’s logic. It made sense that a racehorse that couldn’t race wasn’t worth much. “I should’ve offered Dad all the money I won in the Caledon race right when I heard him tell Jerry he wanted Kazzam gone. He might’ve taken it.”

  Mary chuckled. “As you were hiding in the stall? I would’ve loved to have been there for that discussion.”

  Evie imagined her father’s shocked face when she jumped up from Kazzam’s stall with her hands full of money. “Surprise! I’ll buy him!” She began to chortle.

  Mary joined her. “Boo!”

  “Where did you get that money, young lady?” demanded Evie in her father’s raspy voice.

  “Good imitation!” praised Mary.

  Magpie wagged her tail, relieved that her people were happy again. She burrowed her face into Evie’s lap and thumped her skinny black tail on the floor of the truck, staring at her with intense, shining eyes.

  “Oh, Magpie,” said Evie. “I do love you so.” She wiped away the tear that had dropped onto her cheek.

  “Here we are,” said Mary, checking numbers on the road. “One Six One Seven. Rod and Mel Usher, right on the mailbox.”

  Evie looked down the rutted lane to the rundown cottage. It might have been a lovely place, once, she thought, but bedsprings and old tires were strewn around the yard, and a battered tin doghouse sat in a grassless patch with a long rope tethered to an iron stake. A dog collar was still attached to the end.

  “Are you sure this is the place?” Evie asked.

  “Yes. This is it.”

  Magpie began to whine soulfully. Her ears went flat on her head.

  “That collar?” whispered Evie. “I bet that’s hers. I bet she escaped and we’re bringing her back to her prison.”

  “We can’t jump to conclusions and make this worse. Magpie belongs to these people, Evie. We have to do the right thing.”

  “Even if they tie her up like th
at? It’s not fair at all! Let’s go before anybody sees us.” Evie had never felt more certain of anything in her life. “Now!”

  Just then, the peeling door of the house creaked and opened. A skinny woman came out and waved timidly. She had limp, light-brown hair pulled back with bobby pins, and was dressed in an ill-fitting, faded, calico dress. But she looked friendly and eager to please. Evie wondered if she’d been hasty — this woman didn’t appear to have a mean bone in her body.

  “Well, if that’s Mel, she looks very nice,” said Mary, echoing Evie’s thoughts.

  Magpie whimpered and began to shake. Evie patted her soothingly. “Magpie seems to think otherwise.”

  The woman was followed by a large man wearing a sleeveless undershirt and baggy, green work pants. His bare arms were covered in tattoos, and he apparently hadn’t shaved in days. He blinked in the sunlight, then looked at the truck and marched up.

  “Here might be the problem,” whispered Mary. “Keep Magpie on the floor for a minute.” She rolled down her window halfway and didn’t get out. “Hello!”

  “You brought my dog?” asked the man pleasantly.

  “Are you Rod Usher?”

  “Yeah, and this is Mel.” He pointed to the woman, who smiled. “Vet said a lady driving a white Ford F-150 with a fifth wheel has my dog.” He peered into the truck through Mary’s window. “Vixen!”

  Magpie whimpered loudly. Warm urine trickled onto Evie’s foot. Poor thing! Evie thought. The dog was so frightened she couldn’t control her bladder.

  “Vixen! I hear yer whining, sucky baby.” Rod Usher grinned down at Magpie with nicotine-stained teeth, making the dog tremble even harder. “She’s a silly one. Look at her shake!” He gave a forced-sounding laugh.

  Evie wasn’t sure what to do. Magpie was certainly frightened of this man. Was he cruel or just rough? She looked at Aunt Mary for guidance.

  “Good thing she was chipped,” said Mary, buying time.

  “Yeah. The Humane Society do it to all the animals.”