Jockey Girl

by Shelley Peterson

  “For sure. I can’t believe all the stuff she gave me.”

  “She’s a generous person. Come. Let me show you what she invented.”

  “She invented something?”

  “Follow me.” Bart led Evie down the hall and into an enormous room with huge washing machines and dryers. A rotating conveyer belt packed with hangers of freshly pressed racing silks reminded Evie of the dry cleaner’s, but many times bigger.

  A man sat at a desk sorting name tickets and laundry stickers. They walked past people sewing and cleaning boots and pants.

  “Here it is, Evie. The Equiciser. The equestrian exerciser.” Bart pointed to an elaborate sawhorse.

  “How does it work?”

  “Get on. You’ll see.”

  Evie sat in the saddle. She bent her knees tightly and put her feet into the stirrups.

  “Now ride it,” said Bart. “Like you’re in a race.”

  “Sweet!” exclaimed Evie. “It moves like a galloping horse!”

  “That’s the whole idea. It simulates the movement of a racehorse so jockeys can practise their technique as long as they like, without wearing out horses.”

  Evie kept on riding the Equiciser. Faster and faster.

  Within minutes she felt her balance improve. The machine moved better when her body was right over the neck and when she stretched her arms forward with each stride.

  “This is great, Bart!” Evie enthused. “It’s teaching me things.” She slowed the machine and hopped off.

  Bart smiled. “Now, be sure to get a good rest tonight and pray for sunshine. Tomorrow is the big day for us all.”

  25

  Midnight

  After leaving the jockeys’ room at Woodbine on Saturday afternoon, Evie went to check on Christieloo and Kazzam. They looked good. They’d eaten all their food and were drinking water, and were peeing and pooping as usual. Nothing at all to worry about. But as she stroked Kazzam’s forehead with its distinctive heart-shaped star, Evie couldn’t quite shake the feeling that something would go wrong.

  People said that it was normal to have nerves before a big race, and Evie knew that with the dark skies and dismal rain, her imagination must be working overtime. She should get a grip. Besides, she told herself, as well as the stable security guards, Yolanda would be right there watching over Kazzam.

  Since the Thursday draw, she’d been waiting for some kind of retaliation from her father, but none had come, not even a threat. His letter was sincere. It had to be. He was not a scorpion.

  Evie climbed into bed Saturday night after organizing everything she could think of for the race the next day. She was showered and ready to go, with her clothes laid out and necessities packed. It was still early in the evening, only nine-thirty, but Evie needed a good night’s sleep, like Bart had advised.

  She drifted off to sleep, comforted by thoughts of Yolanda and the security at Woodbine. She slept deeply and dreamlessly.

  Suddenly, at midnight, thunder crashed right over the farmhouse. Evie sat straight up in bed, her heart pounding. A tongue of lightning split the sky into sections, accompanied by another ear-splitting roar.

  Anxiety flooded her body. Her pulse raced. Something was wrong. Kazzam, she felt sure of it. He needed her. She had to make certain he was all right.

  Yolanda had a cellphone with her and the number was beside the phone in the kitchen. Evie got out of bed. Magpie leaped to her feet and shook her floppy ears. She stayed by Evie’s side as she crept down the stairs in the dark.

  The message light was blinking. Evie pressed it. Nothing but an electonic squeak. She played it again. Just a squeak. Evie’s mind ran overtime as she considered all the horrible reasons someone had called but was unable to leave a message.

  Evie quickly dialled Yolanda’s number and waited. Her phone rang until voice mail came on. Evie left a message. “Yoyo? It’s Evie. Did you call? Is everything okay? Call me.”

  She hung up and stood thinking. She called again with the same result. Why wasn’t Yolanda picking up? Evie tried one last time, but as the seconds passed, she found herself bubbling into a panic. Something must be very wrong.

  Evie needed to find a way to get to Woodbine. Magpie shadowed her upstairs to Aunt Mary’s room. The bedroom door was closed. Evie knocked and listened. She knocked again, harder, and then opened the door. “Aunt Mary?”

  The covers moved. Aunt Mary’s sleepy head rose from her pillow. “What is it, Evie? Is everything okay?”

  “Can you drive me to Woodbine? Please?”

  “What time is it?”

  “Twelve o’clock.”

  “Midnight? Evie, please, get back to —”

  “I can’t! Kazzam’s in trouble, I know it. I can’t sleep until I see him.”

  Mary sat up and turned on the light. At the sight of the older woman’s tired face, Evie felt badly. But still, she strongly felt the need to see Kazzam. “Please?”

  “Call Yoyo. She’s right there and if there was —”

  “I already tried but there’s no answer. And she might have tried to call us because the light was blinking and there’s no message.”

  “Evie, it’s your imagination. Nothing’s wrong. You’ve worked yourself into a —”

  “Please, Aunt Mary? I need to see with my own eyes.”

  “I know, dear, but it’s the middle of the —”

  “I’ll call Mark. He’ll drive me. It’ll take longer, but I won’t be able to sleep until I get there.”

  “Did you have a bad dream?”

  “Can I take the truck and drive myself?”

  “You don’t have a licence!” Mary sighed in resignation. “Okay. I’ll drive you. You’ll see he’s perfectly fine, and then we’ll get you back to bed. You need rest before tomorrow. And so do I.”

  “Thank you, thank you! Meet me downstairs?”

  “In five.”

  “Make it three?”

  Mary glared at Evie and began to get dressed. “Four.”

  Evie raced to her room, threw on her clothes, and grabbed her flashlight. She was downstairs quickly and let out the dogs. They didn’t like the rain and whined to come back in.

  True to her word, Aunt Mary appeared and lifted the keys off the hook. “Leave the dogs inside,” she said tersely. “Let’s go.”

  They ran through the rain to the truck and were off.

  The downpour showed no signs of subsiding. As they drove south, brilliant electric forks lit up the black sky, followed instantly by an unearthly crash.

  “That was too close,” said Mary, shuddering.

  “It’s a spooky night.” Evie was on edge. She wanted Mary to drive faster. She saw how her aunt was hunched forward in order to see the road through the flapping windshield wipers and pounding rain, and resolved to keep her mouth shut. She didn’t want to push her luck, but it was an effort.

  “Relax. We’ll be there soon,” said Mary. “Get my racing licence out of my purse so we can go right through.”

  Evie heard the irritation in her aunt’s voice and felt a little foolish. She wondered about the craziness of her impulse. She had no idea why she was so convinced that something was wrong. But the blinking message light was real. Maybe Aunt Mary was right, that it was just her imagination. Maybe a bad dream. She hoped so.

  “We’re here.” Aunt Mary rolled down her window and presented her licence to the guard, who glanced at it and motioned them through.

  Mary silently drove directly to stable five. Everything looked calm.

  “I’ll run in,” said Evie.

  “If you’re not out in two minutes, I’m coming in.”

  Evie raced through the rain to the stable door. She walked in and then stopped still to listen. The barn was dark and very quiet. Too quiet. The normal sounds of horses eating and snoring and shuffling around in the straw were missing. The only noise she heard was a barn cat yowling from somewhere down the hall.

  Evie’s eyes adjusted to the gloom of the barn. She thought it better not to swit
ch on the overhead lights and disturb all the horses. Or alert an intruder. She checked her pocket for the flashlight, just in case.

  She passed the security room. The door was closed, but she could hear that the television set was on. She kept walking, peeking into the stalls as she passed. Horses stood quietly, not eating, just watching, eyes wide open.

  Strange. Something is going on and the horses know it. The hairs on Evie’s entire body raised.

  Why isn’t a guard out here? Where’s Yoyo?

  Evie crept along the hall, unsure if she should make herself known or remain silent. Each horse observed her as she made her way toward Kazzam’s stall, beside Christieloo’s.

  Definitely not normal. They’re all worried.

  Odd that nobody was guarding the horses. Were they all watching TV?

  Evie stopped. There it was again. A mewing sound, like a distressed cat. Then it hit her. That’s not a cat. It’s a person.

  She followed the noise right to Christieloo’s stall.

  The palomino mare’s eyes bulged with uncertainty. Evie reached over the stall door to pat her nose and comfort her, then heard the noise again, but louder.

  Evie looked down. A dark shape lay in a large lump on the inside of the stall door. She took her flashlight from her pocket and turned it on.

  “Yoyo!” she whispered. “Holy.”

  There, on the stall floor, gagged and tied up, lay Yolanda. Her eyes flashed with fear. She struggled to get up, but was bound tightly and couldn’t move.

  Evie opened the door, knelt down, and began to work. First, she ripped the duct tape off the woman’s mouth and nose. Yolanda gasped for air and inhaled deeply. Then Evie loosened the rope around her wrists, held together behind her back.

  “No Justice!” Yolanda implored urgently, as soon as she got enough breath. “Go! I’ll untie my legs.”

  Evie jumped to her feet and dashed to the adjoining stall. What she saw almost caused her to sink to the floor. “Kazzam!” she croaked. “Kazzam.”

  The horse’s head sagged to his knees. His legs were apart, supporting his quaking body. His eyes were dull and his ears were flat back on his head. Blood was splashed across his head, scarlet against the white heart on his forehead.

  His head rose when he saw her, and his eyes brightened. He drew a huge, shaky breath of air and snorted.

  Evie stumbled into his stall. “Kazzam, what did they do to you?” She threw her arms around his neck, soiling her shirt with the sticky blood.

  Kazzam nickered and rubbed his chin into her back, returning the hug unreservedly.

  “Who did this, boy? What happened to you?” An image of her father popped into her head, but she rejected it immediately. She refused to believe he would do this, especially after his letter.

  The little black horse snorted and pawed the ground. He seemed very much on edge. He shook his head and looked behind him. She’d never seen him so agitated. Evie wondered how much pain he was in.

  Her heart ached to see the fight in him. Even bloodied and battered, he never gave up. He lived like he ran — all out. He chose the people he’d accept. Or not. He figured out the play of each race and insisted on doing it his way. Or buck off the rider. His spirit was what made him a champion, thought Evie. And that would never change until the day he died. She choked back that thought. No! I didn’t mean that! Please, please, let him not die today!

  But if it was today, if this was the end, she vowed to stay with him until he breathed his last breath. He deserved nothing less. She owed it to him, because Kazzam had trusted her, believed in her. Evie’s stomach dropped. How had she let this happen? She should’ve been there herself to protect him! He was a sitting duck, locked in a stall, defenceless.

  She became overcome with rage. She would see Kazzam avenged. This noble son of the racetrack would not be forgotten, even though someone, tonight, on the eve of his big race, had tried to cut him down before he could prove his worth to the world.

  “Don’t give up, Kazzam. Ever. I’ll never give up on you,” Evie promised as she tried to soothe him. She wiped her eyes and stood tall, filled with determination. She would rehabilitate her injured horse. Like Sella always said, where life be, there hope be.

  Yolanda came up behind her, rubbing her sore wrists. “Let me take a look at him.” She walked into the stall and began to give him a once-over, using Evie’s flashlight.

  Suddenly, the fluorescent overhead lights came on. Mary came running down the hall. “Evie? Yoyo?”

  “Here, Aunt Mary!” Evie called. She stepped out to show her aunt which stall they were in.

  At the same instant, Yolanda shrieked.

  Evie spun around.

  “The man!” screamed Yolanda.

  Evie looked where Yolanda was pointing.

  In the far corner of the stall, illuminated by the overhead lights, a man lay motionless and hunched up in the fetal position. He wore a filthy and torn security guard’s uniform.

  Mary stood with them, staring. “Is he dead or alive?”

  “He sure lost a lot of blood,” whispered Evie, looking at his clothes and the dark stain in the straw.

  “That’s the man who tied me up,” said Yolanda, tightly clutching both women’s arms.

  “What happened, Yoyo?” asked Mary gently.

  “This guard came up and started chatting. Things got strange and I started to call you. Then I must’ve blacked out, because I don’t remember anything until a few minutes before Evie found me. When I woke up I realized I was gagged and tied up on the floor of Christieloo’s stall. I found my phone in the straw.”

  “Well, this guy’s not going anywhere. I’m getting help,” said Mary firmly. “Anyone coming?”

  Yolanda joined Mary and they marched purposefully to the guards’ room.

  Evie stayed in the stall. She cared only about Kazzam and how badly he was injured. He stood patiently as she slowly and carefully felt every inch of his legs. Nothing wrong there. She examined his chest, flanks, torso, withers, and neck. No punctures or stab wounds. His head was free of injury, too. Except for the sticky and drying blood, the horse seemed to be perfectly unharmed. But where did all the blood come from?

  “My sweet horse,” she murmured softly. “Are you okay?”

  “No-o!” came a moan.

  Evie almost jumped out of her skin. The man was conscious!

  Kazzam stiffened. He backed up and lifted a hind hoof threateningly, aiming for the man’s chest.

  “Help me! That horse is vicious!”

  Evie grabbed Kazzam’s halter. “Easy, boy.” To the man, she said, “You better stay exactly where you are, mister. Make one false move and this horse knocks your head off.”

  “He kicked me and bit my arm! Let me out!”

  “You shouldn’t have been here in the first place!” Evie took a look at him. His features were hard to distinguish in the dim light, and he held his right arm to his chest. She shot a glance down the hall, hoping that the guards were on their way. She didn’t know how long she could keep up the tough-guy act.

  The man moved his legs and whistled in pain. Evie prayed that he wasn’t able to get up.

  Kazzam quivered. His bottom lip tensed and the muscles in his jaw chenched. His ears flattened. Evie saw how much he hated this man and wished him harm. It was this man’s presence that had made Kazzam so edgy, not pain, as Evie had first assumed.

  “Look, kid,” the man said. He sounded friendly now. “Let me go and I’ll pay you five hundred dollars.”

  “Good try,” Evie said.

  “A thousand.”

  She was astonished. He thought she was bargaining!

  “Fifteen hundred. That’s it. Take it or leave it.”

  “Where did you get all that money?” Evie asked.

  “That’s none of your business.”

  The man clumsily tried to get up. He yelled with pain.

  Again, Kazzam’s ears flattened against his head and he threatened to kick.

  “Okay, o
kay! Call off the horse!”

  “Move and you’re a dead man.” Why were Mary and Yolanda taking so long?

  Just then, Evie heard footsteps coming quickly toward them. Finally!

  The man heard them, too. He lurched forward and tried to crawl out the stall door.

  Kazzam reared. Then his front hooves came crashing down on either side of the man’s torso. The man screamed. Kazzam stayed over him, not allowing him to move another inch.

  “Good boy, Kazzam!” Evie said. She patted his neck and stood beside him, hoping that he didn’t finish the job before the man was arrested. “Nice work.”

  At that moment Mary arrived, followed by a security guard, two police officers, and Yolanda.

  “They were watching a porn flick,” sniffed Yolanda.

  The security guard took offence and pointed to the injured man. “He brought it! What were we to do?”

  Efficiently, the two officers lifted the injured man from the floor. The officer in charge touched the brim of his cap. “Evening, Ms. Parson, Ms. Schmits. Thanks for your statements. We’ll be in touch.” He nodded briskly, and they disappeared down the hall together, assisting the hobbling perpetrator.

  “I’m sure glad he’s gone,” said Evie, shuddering.

  “Me, too. Now, let’s see if No Justice is able to run tomorrow.” Mary took a lead shank from the stall door and led the horse out.

  He stepped out easily and with confidence. He had not sustained even one injury. Clearly, the blood on his body belonged to the intruder. He arched his neck, shook his mane, and let out a triumphant neigh.

  Christieloo whinnied back. Every horse in the barn returned the call, and Evie felt a collective sigh in the stable. Within a minute, regular noises resumed. Munching hay, slurping water, passing gas. Several horses let out their urine. Tension had been felt by every single horse.

  While Yolanda and Mary replaced his straw and filled his hay net and water bucket, Evie hosed Kazzam down in the wash stall. “Interesting, Kazzam,” she told him. “The thing that everybody hates about you, your distrust of people and the kicking and biting? Turns out it saved your life.”

  Christieloo and Kazzam were settled in their clean stalls and nodding peacefully when Mary yawned and said, “Time to go and get some sleep, Evie. Big day tomorrow.”