Karma
I don't own Pushing Daisies.
Emerson Cod did not like racetracks. He did not like dirt -he wasn't even all that fond of grass. He did not like horses, he hated their stench and he really, really hated flies.
So why was he standing in a warm, smelly barn being hounded by flies? Well, for the same reason Emerson Cod did anything. Money. Olive Snook still owed him half of the fee for his services as a private investigator. She'd told him he could get it that day if he'd come pick it up at the tracks where she'd been spending most of her time off ever since it had been revealed that John Joseph Jacobs was not, in fact, dead. After arguing with her for nearly fifteen minutes on the phone he'd decided the money was worth it and had begrudgingly agreed to her terms.
"Looking for something?" The rather distinctive voice of Olive Snook asked from behind him.
"What the hell is this?" Emerson demanded as he turned towards her and found himself nose to muzzle with very tall thoroughbred.
"This," Olive replied evenly from her perch atop the stallion, "is a horse. More specifically this is a horse called Admiral."
"Well would you mind coming down from 'Admiral'?" Emerson sneered. "I want my money."
"Oh phht," Olive rolled her eyes. "Is that all you think about?"
"Yes. Now get down and gimme my money."
Olive scowled at him. She rather enjoyed talking to him talking to him from astride a horse. The view was infinitely better and it was nice to be able to stare down her nose at him without having to look up his. But she supposed if she wanted Emerson to fall for her prank then she'd have to get of Admiral sometime.
"Alright, alright, I'll go get your cash."
The petite blonde hopped lithely down from her perch and promptly placed Admiral's reins in Emerson's unsuspecting hands.
"Hang onto him for a minute."
With that she strode off. Emerson was too busy deciding whether or not to be disgusted to notice the sly nod Olive shot to John Joseph Jacobs who'd been standing nearby. By the time he'd settled on an acceptably repulsed expression she'd disappeared into the stables.
"Would you like a go?" John Joseph's slow, deliberate words startled Emerson and he nearly dropped the reins.
"Come again?" He snipped, condescendingly polite, at the former jockey who was nearly taller than he was.
"Would you like to ride?" John Joseph asked again.
"Wha- No! No, I would not like to ride. I would like my damn money so I can get the hell out of here."
"Oh!" A look of surprise and sympathy passed over John Joseph's expression. "It's okay to be a little scared of him y'know? I was too at first. You shouldn't let that stop you from trying."
"I am not afraid," Emerson retorted vehemently.
"Well then give it a shot. I can tell you want to."
"I don't want to," Emerson insisted.
"Olive's not afraid of it and between you and me you're a lot tougher than she is."
"I am not afraid," Emerson declared again. "I just don't wanna ride your damn horse. It's ridiculous. Y'all act like it's such a big deal to sit on a pony and prance around a fence."
"If it's so easy why don't you try?"
Emerson glared at the ex-jockey.
"Come on, prove you're not scared," John Joseph taunted in a deceptively gentle tone.
"He wasn't built to haul someone over 4' 11''," Emerson protested weekly. This was stupid. Jockeying had to be one of the most ridiculous professions ever. Sitting on a horse and pretending it was hard to ride them and then taking all the credit for the win when it was over, or blaming the horse for a loss. He wasn't about to do anything to emulate the silly short people.
"Nah, Admiral won't mind. He's used to tall people, I ride him all the time. Olive's even got him nice and warn out so you can have a nice, easy time."
"No."
"You really are scared."
"I am not!"
"Well then get on the dang horse!"
"Fine!" Emerson roared. "Just shut up about it!"
John Joseph beamed with pride and helped the bigger man mount the tall horse.
"Saddle's too small," Emerson griped.
"They're one size fits all," John Joseph told him casually. "Just crouch in the stirrups. There ya go"
John Joseph led Admiral to the starting gate and made sure Emerson was set before taking his place at the 'open' lever.
"Hang on tight. It'll just be a nice ride once around the track," John Joseph promised. "Just relax."
"Right. I'll show you sissies how a real cowboy rides," Emerson muttered confidently.
Not far from the gate in the stable doorway Olive Snook stood observing the man who'd laughed at her former profession attempt to show them 'how it was done'. And on her own horse no less. She giggled at the thought.
"1…2…4…!" John Jacob yanked the lever. A bell clanged and the gates sprung open. Admiral knew precisely what do, even though Emerson didn't. He burst passed the gates and continued to pick up speed. It was all Emerson could do to hang on. This was supposed to be ridiculously easy!
"AAAAAAAAAAAAAAGHHHHHHHHHHHH! AAAAAAAAAGGHHHHHHHHHHHHHH! MAAAAMMMMAAA!"
From her vantage point near the starting gate Olive couldn't help laughing, or cackling rather as the 6'5'', tougher than anything Emerson Cod screamed like a baby.
It only took fifteen seconds for the impossibly fast horse to jostle Emerson into letting go of the reins. After that it was easy for the graceful lunges of the animal to knock him off entirely. He hit the soft dirt track and rolled until he came to a stop on his back.
Olive was horrorstruck. She hadn't expected Emerson to actually let go of the reins. The cardinal rule of horseback riding was to never let go! She ran to the fallen man and was relieved (and delighted) to find that only his massive ego had been hurt.
"What in the hell was that!?" Emerson demanded breathlessly.
Olive couldn't help the snicker that escaped as she replied: "Karma."
The End
