North Oak 2- Yearling

by Ann Hunter

  Alex bucked her head. "What are those?"

  "Marshmallows." Laura shoved one on to one of the skewers they had brought.

  Alex looked at her like she had said something unintelligible.

  "You've never had a marshmallow?" Laura asked incredulously.

  "How have you lived thirteen years and never had a marshmallow?" Brooke asked. "That's, like, statistically impossible."

  “I know what they are,” Alex said. “I’ve just never seen any that big.”

  "Quickly, we must make right this shocking misfortune." Laura brandished the skewered puff, sword-like, at Alex. "Toastify it!"

  Alex took the handle of the skewer and kind of poked it into the fire quickly.

  "No, no, no, no," Laura pouted. "Brooke, will you please teach the poor girl proper toastification?"

  Brooke half-smiled at her friend and took up a skewer. "Marshmallow." She pushed it on to the pointy end of the rod, making a funny little voice. "Oh noes, I'm gonna… phhhht." Brooke eased it into the fire, continuing with her voice. "No, please. Not the bonfire. Not the… Ahhhh!"

  Alex rolled her eyes, but couldn't help smiling. She put her marshmallow back into the fire and held it near Brooke's.

  "Now dance, monkey!" Laura hooted. She shoved her own skewer of marshmallowy goodness into the flames and rotated the skewer slowly. "See, you have to turn it to get just the right amount of— " Her eyes widened at Brooke.

  Brooke blinked at her. "What?"

  "You killed it."

  Brooke plucked a blackened hunk of molten sugar from the metal. "Nah, this is perfect."

  "Alex, save yourself while you still can!" Laura cried.

  Alex moved hers so quickly it flew off the skewer ala comet and blazed through the night like a glorious fireball of deliciousness.

  Meanwhile Brooke gnawed away at the gooey center of hers. "No, no," she did the voice again. "Don't eat me."

  Laura's shoulders slumped. She pulled her marshmallow from the fire. "You're hopeless," she told Brooke. Laura motioned Alex over and gave her her skewer. "Here. Have mine."

  "You sure? I don't wanna— "

  "Eat it before it gets cold. You're gonna lose the window."

  Alex started tilting the marshmallowed end of the skewer toward her mouth. "Window?"

  Laura nodded. "Open."

  Alex cautiously opened her mouth, then paused. "It just came out of the fire. Won't it —"

  Before Alex could finish her sentence, Laura bumped her elbow firmly enough to send the marshmallow into Alex's mouth. "Insert."

  Alex stiffened momentarily, expecting to be burned, then slouched with a goofy grin.

  "Chew. Enjoy," Laura whispered.

  Brooke grinned, licking her sticky fingers. Alex closed her eyes, moving the ooey-gooey warm and ever so slightly crunchy vanilla sugar lump around in her mouth. "This is, like…" she said, semi-muffled, "the best thing I ever put in my face."

  She opened her eyes, suddenly aware of how ridiculous she must look with the inappropriate amount of pleasure she was experiencing.

  Laura smiled smugly. "I know."

  Brooke finished plying marshmallow from her skewer and fingers. "You think that's good? You ain't seen nothin' yet."

  She pulled a ziploc bag of chocolate chip cookies from beneath her coat along with several caramel-filled chocolate bars.

  "Are those…?" Laura asked.

  Brooke nodded. "The grail. Your mom's cookies and enough Caramellos to make us sick. Your dad brought them over."

  Laura shuddered, reaching with grabby hands and an almost cartoonish ga-ga look on her face. "Come to Mama!"

  Alex stood well out of her way as Laura assailed the items, digging out two cookies and ripping open a bar faster than Venus Galaxies ran the last furlong of the Breeders Cup Distaff.

  Laura divided a couple blocks of the bar between the girls and got to work roasting up more marshmallows.

  Brooke joined in, grabbing a few cookies in preparation to receive the roasted puffs. "These, Alex," she said as she sandwiched a marshmallow between the cookies and a brick of caramel-filled chocolate, "are the king… no, the god of s'mores."

  "Can we say God like that?" Laura asked quickly.

  "Shh, you're spoiling the moment," Brooke chided. Both girls stifled a snort. Alex reached for the marshmallow sandwich, not entirely sure if she was ready for this.

  She kind of turned it around in her hands, squinting at it.

  "Careful. Life as you know it may end," Brooke murmured.

  "I got this." Alex assured.

  Brooke gave her a thumbs up before preparing another s'more-wich.

  Alex bit down on hers and paused. "Holy sh—"

  Brooke and Laura crowed.

  Alex's eyes flew between them, mouth full. She started chewing and collapsed on the sand, spread-eagle, staring at the stars.

  Brooke and Laura leaned over her, smothered in grins. They looked between each other, then back at Alex.

  "I'll take that as it doesn't taste too bad."

  "I don't want to say this, but…" Alex ripped another bite from her treat with a growl. "If there is a God, He is good."

  Laura nodded. "I'll take that as a birthday present."

  When the last of the s'more-wiches had been consumed and Brooke was pretty sure the three of them would be in a sugar coma for the next week, they killed the fire and made their way home.

  This was the best, Brooke sighed. She glanced up at the stars and thanked her lucky one for a night off from Pop. She had needed this. She smiled at Alex, thinking she probably needed it too.

  Laura babbled on about something or other. Boys. Her party. Brooke nodded and went along with it. Her mind wandered off to the yearlings she and Alex would get to work with.

  That will be so cool. Brooke liked working with Alex. It was fun knowing your stuff, but so much cooler to see it all new again through someone else. She glanced at Alex, who looked back at her wryly. Brooke could almost hear her in her head. Why the hell do you look at me like that? Alex took a few steps sideways toward Laura.

  She's like a sponge, Brooke thought, focusing ahead on the path they took together. She crossed the light of her flashlight with Laura's so it made a really big spotlight. Alex reminded her of the yearlings, soaking up whatever she taught them.

  She glanced at Alex again. She couldn't help it. You'll hit the track, just like they will. I bet you'll race ahead, too.

  Brooke got this gnawing pit in her stomach, like a stab of jealousy but not quite. She wondered if she had ever been this quick to learn. But then she had never needed to. It's all I've ever known.

  It was nearly midnight when they reached the Showmans’ front door stoop. Hillary greeted them with that relieved look Brooke remembered her own mother getting at times, a look she missed. The little pit in her stomach got a little sicker.

  Too much sugar. She frowned.

  Hillary beckoned her closer. "Before you go on home, I need to ask you something."

  Brooke trudged up the stairs. "Yeah, sure."

  "Alex is going to need someone to help her get caught up with schooling this summer, and I think she would get on better with someone her age. You wouldn't happen to know anyone, would you?"

  Brooke thought for a moment, her head kinda foggy from droopy marshmallow, fudgy chocolate, and, urgh… why did she eat all that?

  "Especially reading and math," Hillary added.

  "Math," Brooke repeated like it was a word she hadn't heard before. Especially the marshmallows. They were like the size of my… She paused. A tutor. For math. And Alex's age. She brightened. Thank you, Marshmallows! "Actually. I do know someone."

  "Really?"

  "Yeah." Brooke snapped her fingers and six-shooter pointed at Hillary. "There's this girl in my math class. She really shouldn't be cuz she's still in middle school, but they let her come to the high school for math. She's tutored me a couple times even."

  Brooke wasn't so sure if it was the sugar or resent m
aking her sick. Getting schooled by someone two years younger than you didn't exactly make her feel so confident in the smarts department.

  "That's terrific." Hillary grinned. "Do I know her? What's her name?"

  "Carol Daves."

  CAMELOT

  Carol stared into the abyss of her locker. It was narrow and tidy and if she stared long enough into the back, she thought she might spot a doorway to a world in which she could crawl and disappear from existence.

  Maybe someplace Narnia-ish, or Terabithian. I'd even take Canada. Her shoulders slumped as she noticed a pair of large hightops standing on the other side of the locker door. She braced herself. Maybe not Canada, cuz she’d still have to deal with:

  The locker slammed and the owner of the hightops bashed into her. "Move it, fatty."

  Carol smacked against the cold metal of her locker, dropping her books. She stared down and swallowed. Today's brilliant Academy Award worthy portrayal of the idiotic jerk in her life would be reprised by Brad Hopkins.

  Brad, captain of the basketball team sneered at her. He kicked her books across the hall floor. "Y'gonna pick those up, Chunk?"

  Carol ducked under his arm to retrieve her books, secretly trembling inside. "Thank you again for your continued concern for my weight. Your vested interest has been surmised."

  "What's that supposed to mean?" Brad's brutish face twisted in confusion. "You say somethin' Miss Piggy?"

  Carol sighed and faced him, clutching her books to her chest. "You keep trying to label me, but I'm not a can of tuna. You'll have to try harder tomorrow."

  "Light chunk tuna," Brad snorted.

  Heat rushed into Carol's cheeks. "Call me what you want, but it just wouldn't be fair to those cheerleaders you run with if I was skinny, pretty, and smart."

  "You're not smart. You're just a nerd."

  "Nerd: An individual persecuted for their superior skills or intellect, most often by people who fear and envy them."

  "Huh?"

  She shrugged at him, like nothing he said bothered her.

  Brad opened his mouth to say something else, but a teacher across the hall called him in to class.

  Carol waved her fingers at him. "Byeeee."

  When he was well inside the class room, Carol slumped against the lockers and bit her lip. She closed her eyes briefly and imagined a far away land where riders on gallant steeds still stood up to bullies. A place with a round table, seated by friends.

  Camelot. I wish I were in Camelot.

  ***

  Brooke and Joe sat across from Steven North who folded his hands over a mess of papers on his mahogany office desk. "I want to build Camelot."

  "You might want to start by cleaning up there, son," Joe grunted.

  Brooke elbowed him. “Pop, that’s women’s work.”

  Steven leaned back in his chair, smoothing his hands through his salt and pepper hair. "I want to establish a legacy that people whisper about for generations, like Calumet, and Claiborne. Coolmore too." He smirked at Brooke. "Do you think that's too many C's?"

  “You forgot our neighbor, Clearwater,” Brooke said.

  Joe shook his head. "Why y'wanna be like them? Your father, now he had a plan. Stick with what works. Don't need to copy others."

  "I don't want what my father had. I want my own success."

  Just when Brooke wondered why she was here, she sat up and took notice. Her eyes shifted to her grandfather for a moment, then back to Steven. I want my own success.

  It came out of nowhere.

  What if she had her own success, not just handouts from Pop? Brooke's mind flooded with a vibrant glimpse of an older version of herself, standing in dawn's light at the rail of Churchill Downs surveying her own string of gallant racers. Suddenly North Oak didn't seem like such a big place anymore.

  Joe nudged her. "You were asked a question."

  Brooke blinked, not realizing she had spaced out for a minute. "Sorry."

  North's eyes bored through her. "Joe mentioned you’re getting a few yearlings to work with. I’m sure you’ve already looked them over, and I'd like a report. I know it's early yet—we haven't got them working on the track—but are there any who stand out to you? Any who might sell well.”

  Her own success… Brooke took a deep breath. "Promenade."

  North straightened. Joe looked hard at her. "Are you sure?" North asked.

  Brooke looked between them. "If you want people to stand up and take notice of North Oak, sell Promenade at Keeneland."

  North fell back in his leather chair, clasping his hands over his stomach like he’d been hit with a wrecking ball.

  "What about the girl?" Joe asked softly.

  "She's attached to him," North said.

  Brooked shifted in her seat. "Alex won't take it well, but it's a lesson we all have to learn some time. Every horse in the world has a price tag." She locked eyes with North. "You of all people know that, sir."

  North and Joe sat in silence. Brooke glanced back and forth. "Why do you both seem so surprised? It's not personal. It's business."

  She thought she saw a twitch in the corner of her grandfather's mouth, like he was trying to fight a smile. Brooke folded her arms and swung a long leg over her knee, reclining in her chair. "I'm not stupid. I've spent my entire life here. I know what each horse is worth, just like you do."

  North dropped his head, then shook it slowly. He chuckled and looked at Joe. "She's got a good mind, Joseph."

  Brooke bounced her foot. "It makes sense, doesn't it? I'm not wrong."

  "No," North sighed, "you're not. Promenade is the most valuable in the string. Let me ask you something though." He leaned forward against the desk.

  Brooke’s fingers tightened around the arms of her chair, wondering if this wasn’t all going to come back to haunt her.

  "Wouldn't you rather continue working with him? Have a hand in his training over the next four years?"

  Brooke gnawed her lip, thinking of Thanksgiving when she'd clocked Promenade spinning off two furlongs in near record time. A colt with that much promise could very well earn more on the track than in the auction ring.

  "I see you've got some sort of vision in your head, son," Joe interrupted, "but—"

  North smiled, nodding toward Brooke. "So does she."

  He rose from his desk and scuttled to Joe's side, crouching beside him. His voice was low. "Look at her, Joseph. I see it in her eyes."

  Brooke leaned away from them, one eyebrow raised.

  "How you managed to not screw up Rowan and Brooke, I don't know." North made a little hmph that sounded rather amused.

  Joe looked at him with a hard grimace. Brooke thought Pop's whiskers almost bristled at the mention of her mother, Rowan Merrsal.

  North clapped Joe on the shoulder. "Well done."

  Brooke gripped the arms of her chair as the men stared at her. Her skin goose-pimpled. "I'm sorry, but did I miss something?"

  She thought she was used to that sort of stormy, brewing glaze in North's eyes, but not today. Her own success, she reminded herself, as if it would give her some magical form of confidence.

  "I'll put Promenade down for Keeneland." North winked at her. "You keep me posted."

  ***

  Alex clutched her lower abdomen and banged her fist against the bathroom door she shared with Laura. "What the hell is taking so long?"

  The sound of Laura’s electric toothbrush whirred. She could picture her all foamy-mouthed when she answered, "Alesh, you know Mom doeshn't like when you shwear.”

  "I'm about to rip a new one. Let me in."

  Laura spit. "I'm thinking I'll take five more minutes just so you can get over yourself."

  Alex growled and kicked the door, muttering a string of swears under her breath.

  "I heard that."

  Alex slumped against the wall. "I don't feel good. Can you please be done?"

  Laura poked her head out the door, her blonde hair stringy and damp. "All you had to say was please."


  "I don't get why it takes you longer than five minutes to shower."

  "You're kind of adorable when you're mad, you know that?" She stepped through the door with a towel around her middle.

  Alex crossed her arms and squinted at her, scowling. She hoped the silence between them would give Laura a clue.

  Laura touched the end of Alex's nose. "Boop."

  Alex shoved her out of the way, kicking her out of the bathroom. "You're so weird!"

  She slammed the door behind her and doubled over, bracing on the bathroom sink. Hell, it hurt. Taking deep breaths eased the pain – a pain like she'd never experienced before.

  She sat on the toilet and muttered another swear when she wiped. Bright red stained the toilet paper. Her breath quickened. "Holy mother of…" she choked, "I'm dying."

  She flushed the toilet, pulled up her pants, and burst from the bathroom. I'm hemorrhaging. I'm gonna die. She tripped into the wall across from the bathroom.

  Laura peeked out from her bedroom. "You okay?"

  Alex forced a smile. She took a few more deep breaths and nodded.

  "Let me know if you need anything,” Laura said before she shut her door.

  Alex bit her lip, compartmentalizing the pain she felt into a small, shabby internal box. She shoved it away into a dark corner with half of the other crap she didn't want to deal with. Especially not today.

  Today was the first day of spring break, and Brooke was waiting for her. Alex had been looking forward to this day since they had discussed starting riding lessons.

  Alex leaned her head against the wall behind her, squeezed her eyes shut, and swallowed. The thought was nerve-wracking and thrilling all at once. Just the idea of being on a horse made her heart flutter and the hair on her arms stand on end.

  Would she like it?

  She gritted her teeth as a sharp pain rippled over her lower half, reminding her of what she'd seen in the bathroom. She wasn't sure she would enjoy her first lesson as much knowing she was going to bleed to death.

  Alex beat her head softly against the wall. Day ruined.

  After a moment, she pulled herself together and slunk downstairs to join Laura and her parents, Cade and Hillary, for breakfast.