Jockey Girl

by Shelley Peterson

  “Me, too,” said Angela in a surprisingly clear voice. “I recognized your truck.”

  She’d followed them! Evie blushed at the memory of her hurtful words. She’d called her an awful, dirty, drug addict. She hoped this woman — her mother — hadn’t heard them.

  Over Mary’s shoulder, Angela looked into Evie’s eyes briefly. Her mother had green eyes flecked with gold, like her own. Angela smiled. Her smile was sweet and loving, in spite of the greyish colour of her teeth.

  Confusion swirled in Evie’s brain. She had no idea what to do or what to say. She stood and stared. Finally, Magpie solved the problem by dragging her over to get a good sniff of this new person, who’d been watching from the alley.

  “Evangeline,” whispered Angela. “You’re beautiful.”

  “Thank you.” Evie looked at Mary, desperate for assistance.

  Angela coughed. Evie recognized it as a smoker’s hack. Then she continued speaking, as if unaware of Evie’s great discomfort. “I named you Evangeline after a poem I love by Henry Wadsworth Longfellow. I read it when I was pregnant. And part of my name is in your name. Angel.”

  “But you left me. With my father.” Evie quickly covered her mouth with her hand. She hadn’t meant to say that.

  “You’re right to be angry. I’m angry at myself, too.” Angela reached out her hand, looking down. “I’ll explain everything one day and hope you understand.”

  Evie nodded, afraid to open her mouth again. She found she couldn’t accept the proffered hand.

  That hand fell to Angela’s side, but she didn’t seem offended. “I hear you love horses.”

  “Yes! I ... I do,” stammered Evie. “I want to be a jockey.” She surprised herself again. Why did she keep saying things that were true, but that she’d never said to anyone before?

  “Good. It’s important to have a goal. Believe in yourself.”

  Aunt Mary opened her large purse and handed the paper-bag lunches to Angela. “Here, dear. Sandwiches for you and some for your friends.”

  “Thanks, Aunt Mary.” The lunches fit nicely into Angela’s knapsack. “Did you bring smokes?”

  “Yes. They’re in one of the bags. And here’s my number again, just in case. You call me. Anything at all, anytime at all.” She handed her a card.

  Angela put it in her pocket and nodded.

  Evie couldn’t stop herself. She blurted out, “I don’t understand why you’re here, living like this. Why do you choose this life? I have so many questions and no answers.”

  Angela coughed and cleared her throat. “I want to answer them all. And I will.” She began to retreat.

  “Mom?” It felt strange calling her that. She didn’t remember ever calling anybody that in her life.

  Angela stopped. “Yes?”

  “Can you answer some questions now?” Evie’s voice croaked with raw emotion. “Like, why you let me think you were dead all my life? Why you never came to visit me or ever called or anything?” She was so upset her stomach ached and she felt the need to sit down.

  Angela paused. Her face saddened. She chewed on a fingernail. “There are reasons.” She squinted her eyes like her head was hurting. “But not today. I’m not ready. I’m seeing my daughter for the first time in thirteen years.” Angela coughed again. She reached into a pocket and pulled out a cigarette. Her hands shook. “It’s a shock.”

  It was like Evie wasn’t even there! “It’s a shock for me, too! Are you even thinking of how I feel?”

  “Come on, Evie. It’s time to go.” Mary put her hand on Evie’s shoulder. Evie recoiled and backed away.

  To Angela, Mary cheerfully said, “Stay healthy, my dear, and call me. Please.”

  Angela lit her cigarette and silently drifted back into the alley. And then Evie couldn’t move away fast enough.

  13

  Surprises

  Evie and Magpie raced back to the parking lot. The girl leaned against the truck, panting for air.

  She shook her head and sniffed back tears. Her mother had been in a hurry to get away, to score more drugs, or to do whatever she had to do. That was more important than it was to see her only daughter after thirteen years.

  Aunt Mary arrived a moment later and clicked open the locks. “I left the windows too far down. Look at Magpie’s paw marks!” Evie noted the long skid marks in the country dust that covered the truck door, and saw how she’d gotten out. The dog had squeezed herself out the window and slid down.

  Mary chuckled and opened the door. “She’s an acrobat!”

  Magpie jumped in first and lay on the floor, and Evie sullenly got in herself. Mary started the engine. They were well north on Highway 27, almost at Derry Road, before they began to talk.

  Mary spoke first. “Well?”

  “Well, what?”

  “What do you think?”

  “I met my mother, who freaked me out, and I will never see her again. I won’t be looking for her, anyway. She said she’d answer my questions but she couldn’t take the time. What else is she doing today? She doesn’t care at all about me.”

  Mary considered this. “She really does care, Evie. She wanted me to bring you to her. That’s why I wrote to you about her in the birthday card.” She sighed. “It’ll take a little time for all this to sink in.”

  “And what am I supposed to make of it in the meantime? I’d love to know that!” Evie shook her head. She was flushed and sweaty and slightly nauseated. She wondered if she had a fever.

  “I don’t know how to answer you.”

  Evie stared out the window, taking in nothing. “All my life I’ve wondered what she’d be like. Well, she’s a messed-up addict who wants nothing to do with me.” Evie swatted away a tear, angry with herself for caring enough to cry. She snorted suddenly. “I spent years dreaming about her. She was beautiful. She was a princess with a sparkling tiara. Right!”

  Mary sighed again. “Don’t give up on her so easily, Evie. She’ll answer your questions. All of them. I know that. Nothing happens in a day.”

  “Except this day. Too many things have happened,” Evie muttered. She was slouched so low in her seat that she almost missed it.

  The sign. Woodbine Racetrack. She sat up. “Are we here?”

  “Yes, we are. This is it, the home of your mother’s racing career.”

  Evie was startled out of her miserable mood. “My mother’s what? She was a jockey?”

  “Jockey and trainer. Mostly trainer because there were no female jockeys except in the Powder Puff Race and the Pink Ladies League. It was an old boys’ club. Still is in lots of ways. She was good, Evie. Very good.”

  “Why didn’t you tell me?”

  “You never asked.” She smiled and lifted her eyebrows. “There’s a whole lot you don’t know yet.”

  “Like what? Tell me!”

  “All in good time.”

  “So when she smashed her leg, was it a fall from a racehorse?”

  “Yes. Her horse was clipped from behind. Her horse tumbled, the horse that clipped him fell, and several others, too. Nobody was killed and the horses all got up, but it was a really bad accident. Your mother never raced again.”

  Evie knew that being “clipped” is when a horse crowds the one ahead and steps on that horse’s heel. The results could be bad, like a ripped heel, or horses falling. “That’s terrible. Did the jockey get in trouble for riding too close?”

  “No. It’s hard to prove wrongdoing sometimes.”

  “Or maybe the old boys’ club turned a blind eye?”

  Mary shook her head. “No sense in being cynical. Especially at sixteen.” She chuckled.

  They’d driven in through the main entrance and followed the interior road past the big stadium. Now they stopped in the small gravel parking lot beside the stable gate.

  “I’ll be back in a minute. Stay put.”

  Evie watched her aunt walk into a small building beside the automatic gate. Magpie snuck up onto the seat beside her, and Evie put her arm around the dog. �
�I’m sure glad you’re mine, Magpie. Now and forever. Nobody will ever be able to take you from me.”

  Trucks and horse trailers and cars came and went through the gate, and Evie became more and more excited about going in. She put all thoughts of meeting her mother out of her mind as she watched the activity. She yearned to learn how this whole business worked. She wanted to visit the stables filled with Thoroughbreds and watch the trainers work. Vets and farrier trucks drove through the gate, and Evie tried to pick out the grooms, exercise riders, and jockeys. She wanted to learn about it all.

  Aunt Mary came out all smiles, accompanied by a man in a navy-blue uniform. But as they approached, the man stopped. He pointed at the truck and shook his head. Mary looked somewhat crestfallen, but she nodded and shook his hand. He walked back to the office.

  “What happened?” asked Evie as Mary opened the door.

  “No dogs are allowed anywhere at Woodbine. It’s a rule. I forgot all about it.”

  “Even if Magpie stays in the truck in the parking lot and we walk in?”

  “She shouldn’t be on the property at all. Tom said we can come back another time, no problem.” Aunt Mary started the truck and drove toward Derry Road. “It’s Monday, and not a race day, so we’re not missing much.”

  “If you say so, but it looks pretty busy.”

  “It’s always busy here. It’s an entirely separate world.” “As long as we do come back, because I really, really want to look around.” Evie was disappointed.

  “We’ll be back many times, don’t worry.”

  Evie felt she owed Aunt Mary an apology. “I’ve been thinking. I was upset, meeting my mother, and I took it out on you and I shouldn’t have. I’m sorry.”

  “Thank you, Evie. It takes a big person to admit that.”

  “I probably need to think about things for a while.”

  “Of course you do. You have a whole lot of new information to process.”

  Evie was glad her great-aunt understood. “I feel like I’ve known you forever.”

  Her aunt smiled. “I feel the same.”

  “You know, I called you because you used the word ‘is’ instead of ‘was’ in your birthday card.” She chortled.

  Aunt Mary raised an eyebrow. “‘Is’ instead of ‘was’?”

  “That’s when I hoped my mother is alive, not was. It was weird finding her, totally weird, but you promised you’d take me to meet her and you did. I’m not sure if I’m glad I met her, but thank you.”

  It was just after three in the afternoon when they turned in the lane to Parson’s Bridge. They both saw the black horse at the same moment.

  Evie blinked and looked again. “Aunt Mary? Do you see what I see?”

  “I do. What the heck?”

  Standing outside in the field, head bent contentedly over the grass, was Kazzam.

  “Stop the truck!” yelled Evie.

  Mary did just that. Evie and Magpie leaped out and ran toward him. Simon and Garfunkel started barking from the house and came running, too.

  Kazzam lifted his head and nickered. He trotted over and met them at the fence.

  Evie ducked through the fence and hugged his neck. “Kazzam, boy! I thought I’d never see you again.”

  She felt something warm and sticky on her hands. She looked and saw blood.

  “Holy.” Evie began to check him all over. “Aunt Mary! Come here!” she called.

  Mary came running.

  “Look at the blood! His chest and his legs. What happened to him?” Evie was shrieking now. “What did Murray Planno do to Kazzam?”

  Mary grabbed her and held her firmly by the shoulders. “The horse needs you to be calm. Now, lead him so I can see him walk.”

  Evie took a deep breath, took hold of his halter and led him along the fence. She tried to control her anger and frustration.

  “Now, trot him,” called Mary.

  Evie did what she was told.

  “Okay, good. Slow him to a walk and bring him back.” Evie led Kazzam back toward Mary.

  “Is he okay?”

  “Yes. He’s perfectly sound. Let’s get him inside and hose him down so we can see what’s what.”

  As Evie led Kazzam toward the barn, Mary drove the truck and parked it. Just as Evie was about to enter the barn, her great-aunt rushed over to her, holding a ripped scrap of paper.

  “Murray pinned this note to the door,” she said. “Look.”

  She handed Evie the scrawled message.

  Evie read it aloud. “‘Deal’s off. Blasted Gibb accepted my offer then doubled his price. Can’t get a jockey anyway. Good luck to you. P.S.: His horse kicked my trailer to hell and back. Gibb owes me.’”

  Evie and Mary looked at each other in astonishment and said in unison, “Let’s call Jerry!”

  Mary pulled out her cell and texted the trainer that No Justice had returned. “I give him two minutes to text me back,” she said, smiling. “He’ll be curious.”

  Her cell dinged. “Two seconds!” she exclaimed. “I’ll tell him to drop over,” she said to Evie as she typed a return message. “He’s not far.”

  They led Kazzam into the barn and over to the wash stall. Once the water was warm enough, Evie hosed him down, starting with his feet and moving up gently. Blood mixed with water and pooled at the drain.

  “Everything is superficial,” observed Mary. “A few scrapes and cuts. Not many and nothing deep.”

  “Do you think he got them all from kicking the trailer?” asked Evie. She couldn’t imagine how he got the chest scrapes.

  “Depends. Murray doesn’t beat horses. Kazzam might’ve fallen down in there.”

  “Ouch!”

  “We’ll wash him with antiseptic soap, then spread Furacin on his cuts. I’m going to give him some Bute, too, to reduce any swelling and make him feel better. He’s better off outside grazing and moving around so he doesn’t stiffen up.”

  Jerry’s truck stopped at the barn door and the man appeared, completely out of breath. “Oh, forgot to turn off the engine!” He raced out again and was back in moments. “Tell me what happened!” he panted.

  Once he was filled in, Jerry stood silently scratching his head under his hat.

  “So now what?” asked Evie.

  Jerry shook his head. “Murray Planno is still the guy we need to let No Justice run. He’s the steward with the most seniority. I’m going to have a chat with him. This incident might actually help.”

  “How could it help?” Evie wondered aloud.

  “Might, might not. If it makes Murray inclined to show Grayson up, it’ll help. If he hates No Justice for kicking his trailer, it won’t.”

  “Should we buy Kazzam now?” asked Evie. “So this doesn’t happen again?”

  “I know what you’re thinking,” answered Jerry. “Thing is, Grayson will screw us around like he tried with Murray, and I don’t think there’s anybody else out there willing to buy him, anyway.”

  Mary nodded agreement.

  “So we take our chances?” Evie was uneasy. “But Dad can do what he likes if he owns him! I have a bad feeling about this after what just happened.”

  Jerry sniffed. “Best to face the beast.” He pulled out his cellphone and pressed a button. “Grayson? Jerry here.”

  Evie was startled. To Mary she whispered, “He’s calling my father?”

  Mary nodded. “It takes courage to be in this business.”

  Jerry turned and walked away while he talked to Grayson Gibb in private.

  Mary and Evie waited expectantly and were all ears when Jerry returned with a big smile. “All clear! He’s calling our bluff!”

  “What did he say?” asked Mary.

  “To knock ourselves out. That if we think we can do something with that no-good blankety-blank — sorry, Evie — to go right ahead.”

  “Really? This is great!” Evie jumped up and down, unable to contain her excitement. Then all at once she stopped. “But the Queen’s Plate isn’t even two weeks away. Will Kazzam be oka
y to run?”

  Jerry grinned. “A girl who thinks like me!” He went outside with his cellphone to call Murray.

  Mary and Evie cleaned up the horse, and Evie led him back outside. He bumped her lightly with his nose as they walked along together. “I don’t know what’s going to happen next, boy, but I’m sure glad to have you back.” She rubbed his ears and forehead as she removed his halter and released him into the field. Evie watched him trot over to the fence where Christieloo stood waiting for him. Kazzam nickered to her and she returned his call. “A girlfriend, Kazzam?”

  Mary and Jerry were deep in conversation as Evie walked back to the barn. “What’s up?” she asked.

  “No answer yet, but I’ve got a plan,” said Jerry. “No Justice was nominated and his dues are all paid up until the final entry, so the paperwork is up to date. We’ll work him as though we’re racing while I figure out who’ll be the jockey. Every morning at six, before it’s hot, with one day off, and that’s tomorrow so he can heal up a bit.”

  Evie nodded. “And I’m the rider?”

  “I’m the trainer, you’re the exercise girl. You understand the problem. You’re not a professional jockey, not even an apprentice. You can get him ready, but somebody else will ride on the day. Are you okay with that?”

  Evie nodded. “I know the rules. One day I’ll be a jockey, but I have a lot of work to do.”

  “You’ve got the right idea,” Mary said approvingly.

  “Working hard is the only way to succeed at anything.”

  “That’s how your aunt Mary succeeded, Evie,” noted Jerry. “People think writing is easy, but that’s a lot of bunk.”

  “Writing?” Evie asked her aunt. “Are you a writer?”

  Aunt Mary smiled. “I’ve written a few books.”

  “A few!” said Jerry. “She’s published a dozen of them. All best-sellers.”

  “Aunt Mary! I didn’t know that. What kind of books? I love reading.”

  “They’re mysteries. I’ll give you one to read when we get to the house.”

  Jerry grinned. “They’re really good, too. You can’t put them down.”

  Evie studied her great-aunt. How many more surprises did she have in store?