North Oak 2- Yearling

by Ann Hunter

  While she lunged him, Carol and Alex put their heads together over the papers and photos they had.

  "Okay, so." Carol pulled out a ruler and a marker and made 3 points on the photo of Promenade in full stride during his workout. "We're going to use the Pythagorean theorem, and solve for letter C at the top here." She pointed where the top of the triangle should meet.

  "A triangle should always add up to a hundred and eighty degrees, and since we already know what his measurements are from here…" She pointed at his stretched foreleg in the photo, reaching through his withers beneath his tack. "And here…" She traced from his stretched hind leg through his hip. "It should be easy to figure out."

  She passed Alex a pencil and a sheet of paper and started helping her work through the problem. She showed her how to measure on the photo and scale it to the life size measurements they had.

  Alex rubbed her forehead at the swell of numbers throbbing in her brain. She had to keep reminding herself that this would help Promenade, would help North Oak, and was worth the discomfort of… she gulped back a sour taste, math.

  It took her a good ten minutes, but she finally came up with a tentative "One hundred and five?"

  Carol beamed. "Looks right to me." She pulled out a clean sheet of work paper. "Now if we can increase his stride by even one percent, how much faster will he go?"

  Alex groaned. Her gaze wandered to Promenade who was concentrating on his job much harder than she was.

  Carol poked the eraser of the pencil into Alex's shoulder. "Come on, you can do this. Start with how big his stride is. If we're seeing the marker right, it's a good twenty-two feet. So how many feet would we add to his stride if we can teach him to stretch out one percent?"

  "Purple monkey dishwasher," Alex answered. She looked to Promenade again.

  Carol shoved her lightly. “Hey. Googlie-eyes.” She put pencil to paper and showed her how to work it out. "Look. For every degree you increase his stride angle, you'll potentially increase his stride length by two percent."

  "That still doesn't mean anything to me."

  Carol sighed. "If we can get him to flex that angle up to one hundred and seven degrees, he could cover… how much more ground?"

  Alex grabbed the pencil and tried to work it out, not paying attention to her lips moving as she silently talked to herself. "I hate this, by the way," she said aloud.

  "You hate everything."

  Alex blew a breath that moved her bangs off her forehead. "Four percent?" She grimaced. "That hardly seems worth it."

  Carol grabbed the pencil back and showed her. "But it is. You wouldn't think it would be hard to catch someone who is covering just four or five percent more ground than you are, but in five strides Promenade could be ahead of the next horse. In twenty strides, he'd be pulling away without a second breath."

  Alex's mind buzzed.

  Carol grinned as the cogs in Alex's head churned.

  "Precept upon precept," Carol said. "Line upon line. Here a little and there a little."

  Alex raised an eyebrow. "Shakespeare? Now? Really?"

  "Nah. That one's from the Bible."

  Carol and Alex watched every day as Brooke worked with Promenade. He showed improvement gradually, giving to the lessons in flexibility Brooke was trying to teach him.

  With a month left until the auction, Brooke got him tacked with a cavesson so she could walk behind him with two long reins. Carol continued pointing out angles on the colt as she and Alex walked behind Brooke.

  "What exactly is this supposed to teach?" Alex asked.

  Carol was about to answer when Brooke spoke instead. "I was thinking if we could teach him to pick up his feet faster, we might get an increase of turn over in his stride." She glanced at Alex. "Efficiency right?"

  Alex nodded.

  "Speaking of efficiency." Carol leaned into Alex. "Do you feel ready to turn in your homework and go back to school tomorrow?"

  "I think so," Alex answered. "Thanks for helping me keep on top of work these last two weeks. I'd probably be held back another year if not for you."

  "Nah. You'd be okay."

  "The Brickhead been leaving you alone?"

  Carol looked at her. "Didn't I tell you? Brad got suspended too."

  Alex's smile was smug.

  "The athletics department isn't very happy about it, since he's pretty much their shiny gold star."

  "Sounds like the shiny is a little tarnished now."

  Carol's eyebrow arced.

  A shiver ran through Alex from the way Carol looked at her. She bumped into Carol. "Serves him right."

  "Hey guys," Brooke called, "look at this."

  She tilted her head to tell Carol and Alex to come to Promenade's side as he moved.

  "See that?" Brooke asked.

  "What are we looking at exactly?" Carol asked

  "He's starting to collect himself more. He's getting some flexion."

  The colt’s back was higher than normal and supple. He foamed at the bit and arced his neck, keeping the reins slack, without being asked. Ears pricked, eyes forward, concentrating on the task.

  Alex wanted to give him a big, hard pat on his shoulder to praise him, but she didn't want to break his concentration. Two weeks of ground worked looked like it was starting to click for him.

  ***

  Alex pumped her foot against the leg of her chair, drumming her fingers on her school desktop in math class. It was one of the few classes she and Carol didn't share, and being around all these new faces made Alex's chest feel tight. She leaned her chin against her free hand and chewed on her fingertips.

  The math teacher walked by and dropped the folder containing the project Carol had helped her with onto her desk. When he was well away from her, Alex slipped her fingers between the folder and the papers. She squeezed her eyes shut as she lifted the corner, then peeked.

  The red letter A was written in the top corner in red marker and underlined. Alex tried to read the two sentences, written smaller, beneath the A.

  This was cool. I look fro-rawd to hav-ing you in my class.

  The letters jumped around a little, but she got the gist. Alex snapped the folder shut and rested her hand on top of it. She covered her mouth with her other hand to hide her smile.

  When class was dismissed, she shoved the folder into her backpack and slung the bag over her shoulder, pushing her way through the other kids to get out of the room. As she looked from her feet up to the lockers, she immediately saw Carol… pinned by the Brick.

  All she remembered was a flash of red before she caught the idiot off guard again, taking his nose between her knuckles and busting his lip open with her other fist.

  It wouldn't seem like someone that small could nail a guy that big, but Brad staggered backwards, cupping his nose. "That just healed."

  Alex stood between him and Carol. "Trust me, it's an improvement."

  He shook it off and strode toward them. Alex stood right in front of him. She only came up to his chest, but in her head she was ten feet tall. "You must have forgotten our little chat a few weeks ago," she said. "Either that or you’re dumb enough to think I was joking."

  He squared his shoulders, and lifted his head. Alex set her own jaw and glared back at him. "Don't you ever come near her again. Cuz I'll be waiting."

  Brad's eyes narrowed. His mouth drew in a thin line as blood dribbled from his lower lip. He backed away slowly, and started making the same yips a little dog made.

  Alex flipped him off.

  Carol still seemed to be recovering when Brad was finally out of sight and Alex turned to her.

  "You okay?" Alex asked.

  Carol nodded slowly.

  Alex pointed in the direction the brickhead had slunk off to. "Look. He's nothing but a coward. I'm just calling his bluff."

  Carol's voice trembled. "Alex?"

  "Hmm?" she reached into Carol's open locker and helped her gather her books for their next class together.

  "I think your vice is
your super power."

  Alex tried to make a joke of it. "Hashtag that awkward moment."

  BUSINESS BETWEEN US

  Hillary was waiting at the kitchen table, arms folded, when Alex got home.

  Why is she always at the stupid table? Alex tossed her backpack by the coat rack. She and Hillary had a mini stare off while Alex chucked off her shoes. "Uh-oh. You've got that mom look."

  "What's this I hear about you punching Brad Hopkins again today?"

  Alex reached into the fruit bowl on the table and plucked up an apple. She bit into it and plopped into a chair. She chewed slowly, arming herself with what she wanted to say.

  "What was I supposed to do?" She wiped her mouth between bites with the back of her arm. "Let him keep picking on Carol?"

  "He was bullying her again?"

  Alex crossed her feet on the table. "What? Did you think I'd punch him just for kicks and giggles?"

  Hillary leveled her gaze on Alex, sliding her feet off her nice, clean tabletop.

  Alex leaned forward against the table. "Carol said my vice is my super power. And you know that great power comes with great responsibility."

  Hillary's head tipped back with a groan. "You've been staying up late with Cade again haven't you?"

  Alex wiggled in her seat. "Spiderman. Spiderman. He can do what a spider can."

  Hillary sighed and rubbed her face. "Yeah. He and I are having a talk tonight."

  Alex rose and pointed at Hillary as the woman had done to her so many times before. "Hey. Be nice."

  She moved to the trash can and dumped the apple core in.

  "You know what I think?" Hillary asked.

  Alex moved to the fridge to grab the water pitcher and pour herself a glass. "Do I look like I have ESPN, woman? I can't read minds."

  "It's ESP, goob. ESPN is what Cade watches."

  Alex sat back down. "That's not entirely true. Sometimes we watch TVG. He's been helping me improve my race handicapping and teaching me bloodlines."

  Hillary let out another long breath and folded her arms again.

  Alex slowly turned her glass on the table, leaving a ring of condensation. "One of you is winning at parenting."

  "I think you're on edge about the sale," Hillary said quickly.

  Alex chewed her lip, then got to her feet, but Hillary wouldn't let her run away this time.

  "Sit."

  Crap. Alex dropped back into her seat, under the spell of the all powerful mom voice. Why did Hillary sometimes use her super powers for evil?

  "Of course I'm on edge," Alex snapped back. "Haven't you noticed my incredible wit and extra sarcasm lately?"

  "That’s not funny. Stop trying to be funny."

  Alex lifted her glass and hid her mouth behind the edge of it. "Of course I'm funny. I'm freaking hilarious. Especially when I look in the mirror."

  "I can see I'm making you uncomfortable, but it's time we had a talk."

  "I already know North Oak needs the money. I know Promenade has to sell to keep us moving forward. I understand the whole sacrifice thing."

  "Do you? Because you haven't been dealing with it. I've watched you these last few months. I notice little things as a mom. You keep boxing up your feelings and shoving them away. It's going to blow up in your face if you don't let it out."

  "Gosh, Hills, you make it sound like a giant fart."

  "I'm serious, Alex."

  Alex bit the rim of her glass.

  "It's time to let go," Hillary said softly. "Time to move on. That's the cycle of life around here. There will be others to love and grow old with."

  Alex thought of that wide blaze and high socks drifting through the morning mist over the far turn of the track. But none like him.

  Alex felt aware of every clock as time wound down. She found herself spending nights in Promenade's stall as he remained completely oblivious about his certain future.

  Carol would come over some mornings to watch him work out. She brought Alex hot chocolate from the staff room in one of the barns as the days started getting cooler.

  When the last day came, they were silent. Listening for the colt come crashing around the far turn, breaking through the darkness and the mist.

  As he thundered by, Carol finally spoke. "Do you think we've made a change?"

  Alex leaned her chin against her folded arms over the outside rail. "I don't know. Maybe you should bring your camera to the sale. Brooke says he's going to run in front of the buyers."

  Carol sipped her hot chocolate from a styrofoam cup. "Maybe I'm imagining things, but I think he looks longer when he reaches for ground. Does he turn over quicker?"

  Alex remained sullen, twisting her cup in her hand. "Joe could tell you that."

  The sound of a stopwatch clicking made them glance in the direction of the old man.

  "He looks scary," Carol whispered.

  "He's just a little rough is all," Alex answered.

  Brooke trotted back on Promenade toward them. The colt threw his head and fought the reins, even as Brooke let him know he'd done his job for now. She turned him toward Joe.

  "Whadja think, Pop?"

  Joe stared at his stopwatch, grinding his jaw slightly. He looked up at Brooke. "He scares me."

  Brooke ruffled Promenade's pale mane. "What? Why?"

  Joe stuffed his stopwatch in his pocket and walked away. "He's a freak."

  Brooke slid from the saddle, passing the reins to Alex, as she started untacking the colt.

  "What does he mean?" Alex asked.

  Brooke shook her head, sliding the lightweight exercise saddle and blanket from Promenade's back. "I don't know, but I hope it doesn't affect the sale."

  "Is he getting faster?" Carol asked.

  "It feels like it," Brooke answered. "But I'd have to see Pop's watch to know for sure." She paused and looked at both of them. "Maybe that's what he meant. Yearlings aren't meant to go real fast. They're still babies. Still growing. But this guy…" she laid a hand on Promenade's shoulder. "He's not like other yearlings I've been on."

  She walked off with her tack. "Cool him out, would you? Then ask a groom to brush him down. We need to get to school."

  ***

  "Promise me someday you'll tell me about her," Carol requested.

  Alex stared at the ceiling of her bedroom from her bed. "Who?"

  "Ashley."

  Alex winced and took in a deep breath.

  Carol was gentle about it. "I want to know about this person you loved so much, that you have trouble letting go of things."

  "Someday," Alex said. "But right now it still hurts to hear her name."

  "She must have meant an awful lot to you."

  Alex turned her head and found those bluebell eyes that drove her crazy.

  Carol smiled with a touch of rose to her cheeks. "That look again."

  Alex shrugged and returned her eyes to the incredibly interesting ceiling. It wasn't really, but it was better than making Carol feel self conscious.

  "Your mom asked me to come with you to Fasig-Tipton," Carol said. "Is that okay?"

  "Why?"

  "No reason."

  "There's always a reason with Hills."

  "Mmm. She said she was worried for you and thought you could use a friend when Promenade goes into the ring."

  "What did your mom say?" Alex asked.

  "I think ever since I started hanging out with you, she's been relieved. She's an RN at the hospital, and sometimes she has to leave me alone in the evenings."

  "Really?” Alex looked at her. “Aren't you afraid, like, Freddy Kreuger is gonna come busting in at night?"

  "Sometimes. But I just bolt the door, and close the shades. I do my homework. Then I make myself some mac'n'cheese, and watch TV til I fall asleep."

  "Wow. That sounds sucky."

  "Yeah, well. I think that's why my mom doesn't mind if I go with you guys."

  Alex glanced at her to see a tentative expression on Carol's face.

  "Is… it okay if I come
with you?" Carol asked.

  Alex looked out the window to the pastures that were starting to turn a little yellow with the autumn. "Yeah, sure. Whatevs."

  Alex and Brooke stood in the center of the training barn aisle with Promenade hooked into the cross ties.

  Alex washed him down while Brooke trimmed his mane. It was a silent task between them.

  Promenade raised his head, eyes wide, sniffing the air. He didn't flinch until Brooke took him by the halter and whipped out the electric clippers.

  His nostrils flared and he knocked into Alex, tipping over the bucket of soapy water.

  "Watch it," Alex chided.

  "Sorry," Brooke said. She turned her attention back to Promenade who was doing all he could to avoid the buzz of the obviously terrifying new thing in her hand.

  "Easy son," Brooke cooed. She shut them off momentarily and let him get a good sniff on them, before turning them on again.

  He stood stock still, muscles quivering, as she trimmed his whiskers and ears. Alex rubbed him down with a dry cloth until he gleamed. The girls stood back and admired him.

  "Looks like a racehorse now," Brooke murmured.

  Promenade glanced at each of them, ears pricked forward, ready to go to sale.

  "We'll bathe him again before he goes to the ring. He'll be on the list to workout in front of all the potential buyers the day before the sale." Brooke looked at Alex. "I guess that's when we'll know if all our work paid off."

  Alex picked up the bucket and tossed the rag inside. "I gotta meet up with Carol."

  "You know, Al," Brooke called after her. "I asked North to pull Promenade from the Keeneland sale, so you'd have more time with him. I want to make things right between us."

  Alex paused to look at her, jaw tense. "You know, Brooke. I think from now on it's just business between us."

  FASIG-TIPTON

  Alex couldn't concentrate on her classes, not with the nearly five hour drive to Keeneland planned for after school.

  At the end of the school day, she stood near Carol as she grabbed an overnight bag she'd stuffed in her locker.

  "Nervous?" Carol asked.