Jockey Girl

by Shelley Peterson

  Angela nodded and her eyes closed. Within seconds she was fast asleep.

  Evie studied her face. She’d been so dismissive of this woman. Now, she was beginning to see her mother as a real person. She’d had real ambitions and a real past. But for many reasons, she’d become something she’d never wanted to be. Never expected to be. Maybe she could get back to the person she was before. Maybe. Evie crossed her fingers.

  As they left the room, Dr. Graham appeared. “Good timing,” she said. “Your ten minutes are up.”

  “My mother’s awake and talking,” said Evie. “That’s good, isn’t it?”

  “Is she making sense?”

  “Yes. I think so.”

  “Then it’s good.” Dr. Graham made a note on her board and looked through the window at the sleeping Angela. “Excellent, in fact.”

  “How long will she be here?” asked Mary.

  “Well, aside from minor cuts and bruising, her only injury was a slight concussion. I’ll check later, after she sleeps for a while. She needs sleep more than anything. We’ll watch her overnight, then make a decision about when she can go home.”

  Evie felt a pang. Where was home for her mother? Behind an alley somewhere near Queen and Spadina?

  “I don’t have to tell you about the drugs in her system,” Dr. Graham continued. “We’ll want to keep her here as long as possible and manage her withdrawal. I’d love to see her in a treatment facility.” She looked at Mary directly. “There’s a long wait for the fully covered ones.”

  “Private would be fantastic. I’ll gladly pay the bills.”

  “Good. I’ll make some calls.”

  “Thank you so much. Call me.” Mary handed the doctor a card. “Please don’t let her leave before contacting me.”

  “I promise. We’ll watch her. I’ll write it in the notes, too, so there’s no misunderstanding.”

  “As soon as she wakes up again, please tell Angela that she’ll come live with me. Okay?”

  “Yes, I will.” Dr. Graham’s voice softened. “How many times have you been through this?”

  Mary answered slowly. “Many times. And my heart has been broken many times. But I’ll try again. And again and again. I have to.”

  The doctor took her hand. “That’s the right thing, no matter how it turns out this time. Never give up on her.”

  Aunt Mary opened her mouth, but only a croak came out. Her whole face seemed to crumple.

  Evie put her hand on her aunt’s arm. “We won’t,” she said. She knew that was what Aunt Mary was trying to say.

  On the way home from the hospital, Evie asked, “Was the doctor saying that my mother might not want to go to rehab after all? That she’d go back to drugs again?”

  “Exactly.” Mary drove along the Gardiner Expressway for a few minutes before saying, “It’s tough. Nobody says, ‘I want to be a drug addict when I grow up.’ But once addiction has its claws in a person, it’s very tough.”

  Evie didn’t understand. It seemed so easy. Just stop taking drugs. “Why do people get addicted, anyway?”

  “I don’t pretend to be an expert. I’ll give you some stuff to read.”

  “But you’ve learned a lot from experience.” Evie really wanted to know. “Why is it so hard to stop taking drugs? Especially when a person knows they’ll end up like my mother?”

  “But they don’t know that. Everybody thinks it won’t happen to them.” Aunt Mary inhaled slowly and released the air completely before she explained, “You know how when you hold your breath too long, your lungs start aching, and it gets unbearable until you have to breathe?”

  Evie nodded. “Yeah.”

  “It’s a little like that.”

  “But you need air to live,” quizzed Evie. “You don’t need drugs.”

  “No, you don’t, but your body screams for them once you’re addicted. It’s a physical reaction. Addicts are in great pain when they go without. Serious suffering. Shaking, sweating, spasms, nausea, vomiting, diarrhea —”

  “Enough!” interrupted Evie. “I get the picture. So why not stop taking them before you get addicted?”

  “Because you don’t know you’re addicted until you try to stop.”

  “So my mother took OxyContin for pain after her injury, then when her leg was better, she was addicted?”

  “Bingo. Then she couldn’t stop. That’s when she needed to go into a rehabilitation facility and get the drug out of her system.”

  “But my father thought he could fix her himself with no help from anybody else.”

  “And he couldn’t, Evie. She needed professional help. The brain becomes hard-wired to want those drugs, and the body craves them, feels it needs them to survive.”

  “Like needing air.”

  Aunt Mary nodded. “Same thing with people addicted to cigarettes. There are a lot of addictions, Evie, and they all start out the same. Whatever the substance, it makes the person feel better at the beginning.”

  “And then it turns bad.”

  “It turns really bad. People choose the drug over everything else in their life.”

  Evie nodded. “Even over me, her own kid.”

  “Please understand. She was convinced that you’d be better cared for by your father.”

  Aunt Mary had told her that before, but Evie still didn’t believe it. “Has Angela ever gone to rehab?”

  “She’s tried. Maybe four or five times over the years, she’s signed herself up without telling me or anyone else. But there’s a waiting list. By the time she gets in, she’s back into the Oxy. And whatever else she can find, I guess.”

  “That’s awful! But Dr. Graham said there’s somewhere she can go if we pay for it.”

  “Yes, there is. And Dr. Graham will work on it.”

  “It’s worth it! I’ll give her all my winnings.”

  Aunt Mary reached over and patted Evie’s arm. “I will, too, Evie. Trust me. I’d spend every last cent on that girl.”

  Evie agreed. “I hope she can do it this time.”

  “She’s got a good reason this time. You.”

  That reminded Evie about something her mother had said. “What about the horses, Aunt Mary? How is it possible for my mother to own them?”

  “I don’t know. I always assumed they belonged to Grayson, along with everything else Angela signed away.”

  “I hate to even ask, but could she be confused about it?” Evie felt she needed to explain, “Because of the drugs and her concussion?”

  “Possibly, but I think she really believes it.”

  “Okay. I have no right to say it, since I’m a guest, too. I’m a little nervous about her coming to live with us. If she might, you know, start using drugs again.”

  Mary laughed. “Me, too. But it’s family. You’re family! Beatrice and Jordie are family. That’s what we do for each other. And my little house is happy to be filled with wonderful people.”

  “That’s really nice.” Evie thought she’d never be as good a person as her great-aunt. “You never finished telling me about Angela’s parents — your brother and his wife. My grandparents. Why didn’t they help her?”

  Mary sighed deeply. “They were both killed in a car crash. On the night of Angela’s marriage to Grayson. They were broadsided by a drunk driver.”

  “Wow.” Evie hadn’t expected that. “I never knew.”

  “Grayson decided not to tell you anything about your mother’s side of your family,” said Mary.

  “But why?” Evie still didn’t understand. “I mean, unless your side of the family were all criminals or something.”

  Mary glanced at her and smiled drolly. “A far as I know, none of us has been in jail.”

  “So why, then? Do you know?”

  “Evie, you ask all the right questions. Maybe it had something to do with his need to control Angela. He didn’t want anybody else influencing her in any way.” She paused. “And maybe it was about the family money.”

  Evie remembered her aunt mentioning money the
day they met. “Tell me about that.”

  “My brother was a very wealthy man, and they worried that Grayson was marrying Angela for money. They forced a prenuptial agreement on them so that if there was a divorce, he wouldn’t get half the family money.”

  “I bet that didn’t go over too well.”

  Mary snorted. “With Grayson’s control issues?”

  Evie had an awful thought. “But ... there was no divorce. Is that why he told people that Angela was dead?”

  “Angela signed everything over to him anyway, so it didn’t matter.”

  “But my father knew she was alive and he got married again. To Paulina. How is that possible when he wasn’t divorced?”

  Mary looked at her kindly. “It’s not a legal marriage, dear.”

  “I feel like I’m in a movie about amnesia. I don’t know anything about who I am!” She wanted to scream. None of this was Aunt Mary’s fault, but knowing that didn’t make it any easier.

  “Please, Evie. Be patient. I’ll tell you everything soon.”

  By the time they pulled into the driveway of Parson’s Bridge it was quite dark, but the outlines of the horses grazing in the fields were still visible against the sky. Just the sight of them gave Evie comfort.

  They parked the truck and tiptoed into the house. The three dogs greeted them at the door, wagging their tails.

  “All’s quiet,” whispered Mary. “The kids went to bed like I told them, wonder of wonders. Take the dogs out for a few minutes, Evie, will you? I’ll check my messages.”

  “Okay, sure.” Evie let out the dogs and followed them.

  Simon and Garfunkel raced away, while Magpie stayed with her. She rubbed her ears and patted her sides. The dog’s body under her sleek black coat felt full of life and energy.

  The last of Evie’s stress disappeared, replaced with an inner calm. Animals did that to her, she realized. Maybe they were her addiction. She giggled at the thought.

  “Go catch up with the others, Magpie! Have some fun.” Magpie just tilted her head and stared at her. “Go on, it’s okay.” Then the dog was gone, her black coat rending her invisible in the dark.

  Evie filled her lungs with the delightful aromas of June.

  She was very happy to be outside in the balmy night air.

  As her eyes adjusted to the darkness, she gazed over to the horse fields. Christieloo, Bendigo, and Paragon were grazing contentedly, and Kazzam stood napping at the fence.

  Evie wandered down the hill and climbed into his field. The horse heard her footsteps and became alert. His neck straightened and his head turned. Then he trotted over, giving a little nicker of recognition.

  “You’re a good boy, Kazzam,” cooed Evie. He put his head down and gently pushed into her chest. She scratched behind his ears and rubbed between his strong jaw bones, then patted his neck. “You’re fast. Mom says you were bred that way. Kazzam? Can you win another race next week? This time, I want you to win for my mother.”

  16

  The Woodbine Test

  The next day was Saturday, and the morning was wet and rainy. It had rained all night. Since she didn’t have to rush off to school, Evie and Kazzam went for a quiet hack on the trails after the daily training. Followed by Magpie, of course. The dog loved nothing better. So much to smell, so many small animals to flush from the bushes! The fields and woods had turned emerald green. Birds sang loudly, outdoing each other with their talent, and frogs and insects chirped and hummed. It gladdened Evie’s heart, and her horse’s, too. Kazzam was playful and full of energy, hopping and spooking at nothing at all. His antics made her grin.

  Daily, Kazzam was getting fitter, exactly on schedule. A full second had dropped off his time on the mile-and-a-quarter track, without even trying, it seemed. Evie had sat on his back, perched high and holding on to the horse with the insides of her feet. She’d basically just let him run, but they’d devised signals. When she leaned further forward with her hands up his neck, he ran faster. When she rested her weight into the saddle a little and sat up, he slowed. When she wanted him to stop, she relaxed and said, “Whoa, boy,” then waited until he came to a halt.

  Riding Kazzam was the most joyful part of her day. The horse was smart and sensitive. As long as he felt respected, he was happy, and when he was happy, he could learn. He was a quick learner, too, Evie thought, provided he understood what she wanted. That was Evie’s job. She was careful never to rush him or to force an issue, but when she needed him to know something, like yielding to the pressure of her leg or changing leads, she quietly persisted until he got it. She and Kazzam were quickly developing a mutually respectful relationship. Evie felt that she was doing her part, and gladly left the administration details to Jerry and Aunt Mary.

  Saturday afternoon, Evie settled down to the business of preparing for exams. While Evie was busy doing that, Aunt Mary drove back to the Toronto hospital to see Angela. When she returned several hours later, she reported that Angela was much improved and had agreed to come live with them until a space at the right program opened up.

  Altogether, it had been a very productive day.

  By Sunday morning, the sun was out again and Evie trained Kazzam before the day got really hot and humid. Their workout was really fast. Kazzam’s speed was the best ever. Evie knew from his ever-improving performance and energy that the program was working. She was getting more and more excited about the Queen’s Plate. Kazzam was a contender, she could feel it. Evie slapped his neck and said, “I’m so proud of you, Kazzam! Good boy!”

  She knew that Jerry was working hard at getting a jockey. Evie wondered who would get to ride him at the Queen’s Plate. She felt jealous. Quite jealous. The only jockey she wouldn’t resent was Imogene, only because she was her hero.

  Evie’s mind was busy as they trotted along the trails. Her mother was moving in. Soon. Maybe even in the next week. Evie knew she should try to be as good a person as Aunt Mary and welcome Angela just as generously. But how was it going to work out? What was the plan for helping her mother get clean? Evie admitted to being afraid of the unknown.

  She turned her mind to Mark. They’d been flirting at school. Evie smiled and felt the blush creep into her cheeks. School was fun now. Turns out that her old friends had never deserted her. Well, except Amelia. Cassie had let slip that Amelia’d had a crush on Mark herself. That was the gossip, and it made sense to Evie. Cassie was slowly softening, and Hilary and Rebecca thought that Evie had deserted them! And really, she had. She’d thrown away her phone and left school, assuming the worst. She hadn’t been fair to them. She hadn’t given them a chance.

  As Evie and Kazzam emerged from the woods, Magpie stopped suddenly, pointed her nose and one paw, and then tore across the field with lightning speed.

  “Be glad Magpie’s not entered!” she said to Kazzam, laughing. Evie saw that Jerry Johnston’s truck was parked at the barn.

  When Evie slid down from her horse, she patted his nose and gave his head a hug. “You’re the best horse in the world. You’re my secret weapon.”

  Jerry and Mary approached with thoughtful faces.

  Evie looked from one to the other, not sure what was going on. Mary took Kazzam’s saddle off.

  Jerry Johnston looked serious. “Evie, we need to talk.”

  Evie’s throat constricted. What’ve I done now?

  “Tomorrow is the day. Half a mile.”

  “Okay.” Evie still wasn’t sure where he was going with this.

  “Mary will drive you and Kazzam to Woodbine for a run at six in the morning. With three other horses. Out of the gate. I’ve set it up. Three stewards will be there, including Murray Planno. Three jockeys, three trainers, and the official starter.”

  Evie was having a hard time understanding. She searched his face for clues. She looked at Mary. “What’s this all about?”

  “Are you in?” asked Jerry. “Yes or no.”

  “Of course I’m in! But tell me what I’m in for!”

  “No need to shout
,” said Jerry.

  “We have a problem,” Mary explained. “Not one available jockey will take a chance with No Justice. I fully appreciate their concerns. It’s dangerous enough out there. They’re worried about being bucked off.”

  “So?” prompted Evie. “That’s not a surprise, is it?” Again, she looked from one adult to the other.

  “And,” Jerry answered, “if we’re going to run No Justice in the Queen’s Plate, we need two things: to get his racing ban lifted, and for you to become an apprentice jockey. And we’ll do both at one time. Tomorrow morning. For a short test run.”

  Evie was astonished. Her eyes widened and a tentative grin slowly crept across her face. “Apprentice jockey. So I could....”

  “Ride him, yes.” Mary completed Evie’s sentence.

  “In the Queen’s Plate?” Evie thought her heart might stop. “You’re not kidding? Because that would be so cruel....”

  “No joke.” Mary smiled at her great-niece. “If Kazzam behaves himself tomorrow, he’ll be allowed to race. He’s already been entered, so that’s all good. And since you’re only sixteen, you need parental consent.”

  “My father will never give his consent!”

  “Your mother signed her consent on a legal document yesterday when I visited her.”

  Evie shook her head disbelievingly. Things were happening so fast. “She did? What does she think?”

  “She’s thrilled. Totally thrilled. She told me she’ll be at the Queen’s Plate in person to cheer you on.”

  Evie let that pass. No way would her mother make the race. “You knew about this yesterday and didn’t tell me?”

  “We weren’t sure we could pull it off. Now we’re sure, thanks to Jerry for doing all the organizing.”

  Jerry smiled proudly. “As long as you want to do this.”

  “I want to do this so much,” said Evie. She felt like doing cartwheels across the field. “I really hope he runs well tomorrow.” She crossed all her fingers.

  Jerry patted her on the shoulder. “He will. I have no doubt. If there’s any justice in the world.”