Disclaimer: Umm…what else do you say in a disclaimer, aside from the things you're supposed to say? For example: "The Black isn't mine." Or "I don't own the Black." Or " The Black Stallion belongs to Walter and Steven Farley, not to me.", which all pretty much mean the same thing anyway… … or…never mind…you get the idea…
A/N: This chapter's short…well, compared to other chapters, really, really, really short. Don't think of it as a short chapter if you don't want to; just pretend it's a really long chapter 11 cut in half, ok?
Chapter 12
I pranced in place, trying to pull away from Dick as he put on the last of the bandages that would protect my legs and fetlocks. Chaya was in the jockey room, getting dressed and weighed. Terri had already tacked me up. Dick straightened, clipped on a lead shank, and headed for the paddock gate. A human waiting there lifted my upper lip, then handed Dick something to clip on my bridle. I swiveled my head upward and tried to see what it was. No luck. Dick yanked on the line downwards and led me to the paddock.
We would wait there until saddling time. I rubbed a knee against the wood and looked around. This was a usual pre-race ritual; I'd been in lots of paddocks before, waiting to be saddled. This was the same, and yet at the same time, different.
Bright Renaissance and Runaway were already there. Both of them ignored me. The gate opened. Galilean, Steele and My Sweet Lucy filed in.
Was it my imagination, or was Galilean looking a bit woozy today?
On second thought, he was woozy. I watched him closely. His eyes were wandering everywhere, and they had a cloudy, dreamy look, as if he didn't have a care in the world. Galilean was relaxed…quiet…docile, almost sluggish, while the rest of us were bursting with nerves. Did the humans notice that something was wrong?
Two more horses, strangers, were brought into the paddock.
That made it a field of 8.
Where was Conquistador?
He didn't turn up when we were led into our saddling stalls.
Great. The weather was already hot, and now they had to add a thick, heavy blanket with that saddle on top.
Ok ok, I was exaggerating; the blanket wasn't thick and heavy, but it really felt that way, and when Chaya, who had appeared wearing Oakwood Acres' green and gold silks right after a human had yelled "Riders up!", swung onto my back, it felt even heavier.
I was sorely tempted to buck everything off, but that really wouldn't work.
Sims appeared. "Let's go." He clipped another line on Steele's bridle and led him ahead of us to the post parade. Steele shot me a venomous You dare look, and followed Sims.
"Good luck," Dick told Chaya. He unclipped his line and let a rider and her pony take over.
I glanced sidewards at the track pony. The gelding wasn't really that small; in fact, he wasn't even a pony. He looked more like a chestnut Thoroughbred version of Sir Peppero, who, by the way, was ponying Steele.
"Hot weather here," he commented as his rider swung his line, urging me into a trot. The gelding began trotting too.
My mouth felt dry. I swallowed and asked, "Any tips?"
" You want to watch that one back there," he shot a look back at Galilean. "I've ponied him other times and he's usually really frisky; don't know what happened to him today. But you watch him all the same. Experienced biter, that one. Gave me this when I refused to let him bolt. Really big teeth." The gelding turned his head sideways and showed me a small scar on his neck.
If Galilean was racing in Florida the past few months, how did this gelding get to pony him 'other times?"
"Now you look like a nice young'n. Don't let'im beat ya. Good luck," he added as his rider released me. "Now I'll be expecting ya to get them rosies." He yelled over his shoulder as he trotted away.
Get the–what? What were 'rosies'?
I pushed everything from my mind as we loaded fourth from the rail.
My stomach flipped. Chaya's hand stroked my neck. I looked ahead out at the track, miles and miles of dark dirt waiting to be trodden upon, and, leagues away, the finish line.
The gates opened.
I shot out and went for the lead. Chaya held me back, and I settled for the third place, with Runaway out second, and Galilean, as always, running in the lead.
The sun was beating down on the track. I squinted against the glaring heat and rolled back an eye.
What was Steele doing this early here? He was just by my flank.
Ahh, he'd decided to tail me instead, and I bet he would accelerate when we did.
A small bay blur blew ahead, with a chestnut streak following her. They settled into the lead, three horses running across the track.
So My Sweet Lucy and a stranger had decided not to let Galilean get away.
The good news was that the fast pace, this early, might burn out Galilean and co. . The bad news was that, with the three of them strung out across the track, and with Runaway behind them, it would be impossible for me to get through.
Well actually, there was a way. I would have to run on the outside of the pack, but that would mean the longest distance to run, and I just wasn't going to do it.
No matter. Sooner or later, one of them would get tired and drop back.
But it better be sooner. There were still 3 other horses behind me, and I was keen to leave them all behind.
There was no use tugging at the bit. The lead horses set the pace, and if I went faster, I'd bowl them over.
Then, I felt a gentle tug. The tug came again. I accelerated to run beside Runaway, and angled over next to the rail, with the gray gelding on my outside.
Chaya's left rein tightened. We were already going around the first turn!
This was bad. With 4 horses to overtake and 3 more to outrun, I had to get moving now!
I tugged at the bit. There wasn't anything we could do; we would have to go around the whole lot.
Let me tell you: I AM NOT HAPPY.
Then, I caught a flash of movement. Was My Sweet Lucy tiring already?
No, she was still running, strong as ever.
But wild horses don't trust their instincts for nothing. I was sure I had seen something.
Sooner or later, something had to happen. Either one of the horses would burn out and give ground, in which case there would be space for us, or they would accelerate.
But this early…that was impossible! Surely if her owners wanted her to win, they would have to had trained her for longer distances…
But then, I saw it wasn't a question of the distance; it was the speed. She was taking almost two strides to our every step, which meant she would burn twice as much energy, which meant she would tire twice faster…
There it was again. She really was tiring! I stopped pulling for rein and settled back, now keeping my eyes on the small bay shape running in front of me.
The question was when to do it…
If I did it too early, and she hadn't dropped back, I would be stuck, unable to get back to my previous place, because another horse would have gone through. If I did it too late, one of the other horses would have closed in and taken her spot.
I waited.
For a few strides, she was fine. Then, I saw her beginning to drop back. The pace was taking its toll. The mare surged forward, then dropped back again. The space between her and the stranger was widening.
Just a few more inches…just a few more…
Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Runaway.
His eyes were also fixed on the slot.
He was going to take it!
But to do so, he would have to angle over across my way, while all I had to do was go straight ahead.
Chaya's left rein tightened again. The second bend!
Oh man…
The stranger on Galilean's right swung wide. Instinctively, Galilean, in the middle, followed. With more space, My Sweet Lucy also edged right.
Something flashed by: a hand reaching, inching downwards. Runaway's jockey! He knew he had to go ahead and take the slot, but he was waiting for his jockey to give the go ahead. And his jockey was already reaching for his whip. That meant that as soon as they burst clear, they would win going away.
I'd forgotten that Chaya also had eyes. In the split second the Runaway's jockey was still pulling out his whip, she dropped low over my back and yelled "Go!". The reins loosened immediately.
I didn't need any more urging. I fixed my eyes on the strip of brown track I could see in between My Sweet Lucy and the rail, and lengthened my strides.
Were we going to get through? Was there enough space? I closed my eyes tightly.
Up behind me, Chaya began kneading my neck. That meant…
Yeah! YI-HAHH!
We were through!
I opened my eyes. The reins lengthened even more. I surged ahead a few strides and rolled back an eye in amazement.
Galilean wasn't going to challenge me! He was still running, a faraway I-don't-care-hey-I'm-getting-tired-of-this look on his face, with the chestnut stranger and Runaway, who had gone forward and taken Lucy's spot now that she'd dropped back.
Chaya dropped even lower on my back. I lowered my head, and began to really run.
Now I was happy.
We flew down the track. I imagined that I was back home, in the wild, and that I was racing with the colts and fillies of our herd. I imagined the wind going through my mane and tail, running, running through the grass. I remembered my very, very first win, of flying down the meadow, of outstripping the others one by one, of finally racing past Raha and seeing the shocked look on his face.
A dark blur on my right! No, two dark blurs. One black, and one brown. Steele and Galilean! Steele was still going strong. Galilean was already plainly tiring, and only being spurred on by his jockey's whip. He wouldn't last long.
No matter. I went even faster. The wind was whipping by, almost whistling in my ears. Everything–the rail, the track, the grandstand with the cheering humans–everything thinned into a line of blurred color and noise.
Steele was gaining. I looked ahead. The wire was only a few more lengths…he wouldn't have enough time…
All too soon, Chaya was pulling me up. I slowed and stopped gratefully, taking in huge gulps of air.
Suddenly, I could hear the crowd again. They were yelling, cheering, making a lot of noise…
My head ears hurt. I wished for silence.
Steele and Terri pulled in a few seconds behind us. I stood panting, the sweat running down my back and neck and legs, soaking the bandages I was wearing.
We had won! We had won the Kentucky Derby…
I shook my head. Was this a dream? But no…it wasn't…because Chaya was patting my neck, saying over and over again in a dazed voice, "We've won…we've won…we've won…"
A human came over, holding something – a blanket? which he draped over my shoulders. I turned my head curiously. Red flowers with a distinctive sweet smell…Roses! Roses, roses, and more roses, hundreds of them, thousands of them woven tightly in a huge blanket that was over my back.
That was what the track pony had been talking about! Rosies…roses.
The track rider and his chestnut gelding suddenly appeared over my shoulder. The gelding was grinning, and so was his rider as a lead shank was clipped on me and they led us to a small circle surrounded by rail.
The winner's circle…
As we passed them, I muttered under my breath, "Thanks."
The gelding whispered back, "My pleasure." Still grinning broadly, he stepped away.
Sims had a line on my bridle. He handed Chaya a huge gleaming… something–sorry, I didn't know what it was–and punched his fist in the air. Chaya raised the gleaming something up high over her head. Dick was beside us, yelling "You did it! You did it!" and jumping up and down. My owner was standing beside us. He had an arm around Sims and an arm around my neck.
Throngs of humans closed in around us. And I am absolutely not exaggerating when I say the noise is deafening. There were clicks and blinding flashes of light everywhere we turned.
I didn't know how long everything lasted, how long until the crowd went away, how long we were in that circle. It might have been minutes; it might have been days.
All I knew was that somehow, the humans thinned and we were finally able to go back to the stable. Chaya disappeared and Dick and Terri took turns walking me and rubbing me down. I was given a hosing off–nice long bath in cool water – and finally brought back to the stable, where a warm bran mash was waiting.
In my stall, I gulped down the mash and alternately dozed and awoke, tired. Humans kept coming to look at me and the rest of the Oakwood Acres horses. I remember jolting awake once to hear someone yelling, "I'll give you five hundred thousand for him and three hundred thousand for the silver filly!" and falling asleep again.
I dreamed. In my dream, I met the black stallion again. It was just a brief dream, very short. All I remember of it was that his eyes were shining and telling me, You did it!
Finally, night. I awoke, wonderfully rested, refreshed, my energy recharged. And suddenly very hungry. I cleaned my feed box and poked my head out my stall door. Everything was quiet, horses sleeping, with an occasional snort or whicker.
It was strange, waking up when everybody else was sleeping.
I closed my eyes and imagined the sky outside, a deep, deep blue dotted with stars. I wondered if, miles away, Mother was looking at the same sky with the rest of the herd. I imagined escaping and going home and telling her all about this, telling her that I hadn't been wasting my time in captivity, that I'd been doing what she had done all those years ago: winning, and proving that you don't have to be pureblooded to do something wonderful.