Raja, Story of a Racehorse (33 page)

It's the boggy spot Wyatt had warned Dee about!

Dee kept a tight hold on her right rein, keeping me on the dry ridge. We ran so close to Inquisitor that I felt Dee's stirrups clanking against Jed's.

Good girl! Hold your ground, don't give in.

I stayed straight, running on the ridge.

“Hold your line little girl, I'm warning you,” Jed growled menacingly, raising the hand holding his racing whip, threatening to hit her. We headed into the fifth, stride for stride, still clanking stirrups. I could feel Inquisitor's sweat as we ran, inches apart.

Look, steady, lock on, one — two — three — up and over!

As we took off together, Jed veered to the left, pushing us into the wing. Dee held me straight and yelled back, “You hold YOUR line!”

CRASH!

Inquisitor bumped me in mid-air, hitting me hard. I lost my balance and stumbled, trying to regain my breath, while Jed galloped away in the lead.

Wow, that surprised me. It hurts.

Dee was now out of the saddle and up my neck, clinging on with her arms. I felt her slip off to the side.

She's going to fall!

By now, the other horses had caught up and I was galloping in the middle of the pack. With his reins dangling over his head, Admiralty Bay swerved dangerously close to us, then scooted across our path, narrowly missing bumping us.

Whoa! That was close.

If Dee falls, she'll be trampled by four horses!

There was nowhere to get out of the way. Sweaty, galloping horses surrounded us, hooves churning urgently, blind to all but the fences and horses in front of them. Dee slipped again as she clung onto my mane, trying fiercely to stay on. I raised my head a bit to help her.

Is she getting tired?

We galloped around the turn as a group, heading toward the gigantic sixth fence. Wyatt had said this was the biggest fence on the course.

It's huge — and uphill.

Suddenly, I felt Dee clasp her hands together around my neck and swing her body under it, using the momentum to heave her leg to the other side. Next, she hooked her knee up and over my withers. This felt familiar.

She's doing the “Under-the-Neck Switch”!

I lowered my head to help her as she pulled herself up the other side. At the critical moment, I raised my head, throwing her back into the saddle, as I had done with Yuri when we practiced the stunt.

We were four strides away from the fence.

Dee gathered her reins, but there was no time to find her stirrups. She sat lightly in the center of my back, as though she was cantering bareback into the big post-and-rail fence next to the barn at home. I measured the distance, rocked back, and jumped, catlike. She grabbed my mane, following me perfectly.

I heard the sound of wood breaking behind us and out of the corner of my eye again saw another flash of color rolling on the ground.

Bright pink —that's TaserferTater — another loose horse to think about!

Now four horses were left in the race.

“Good boy,” she patted me. Then she reached down, ran her hand along the stirrup leathers, found the bouncing stirrup and got back into position. Inquisitor was ahead by ten lengths, with Abracadabra, Cove Warrior and me behind. After the sixth, Dee and I suddenly clicked. I relaxed and started galloping in an easy rhythm. Even though we were going faster, time seemed to slow down. We galloped another circuit, sitting fourth, keeping the same relaxed, balanced rhythm.

Gallop, gallop, gallop, jump. Gallop, gallop, jump.

At each fence, I rebalanced six strides out, opened my stride and then met it perfectly. Like the jumper class with Oakley, I focused, concentrated, and suddenly it became effortless and graceful.

Now, the huge 13th was ahead. The crowd at the fence surged closer as we approached. We sat three strides behind Cove Warrior. At the fence, his rider made a big move, asking him to take off early, out of stride. Thrown off balance, Cove Warrior put in an extra short stride, jumping awkwardly, and slipping on the landing side. It was too late to move over to jump another panel.

We're going down!

Dee jammed her heels down and grabbed my mane. I took a deep breath and then jumped as high as I could over the fence and the horse on the ground, extending my legs so that I wouldn't hit him as he got back up.

We cleared him — barely!

Now there were three of us left: Inquisitor, Abracadabra and me, with three loose horses running alongside of us. As Wyatt had predicted, the pace of the race started to pick up after the 16th fence. We had gone three miles, with one mile left to go. Dee and I stayed in sync, galloping easily, jumping perfectly, waiting to make our move on Inquisitor, who was now leading by five lengths. Abracadabra jumped with us, head-to-head, a perfect pair. Seventeen…Eighteen…Nineteen. We headed for twenty.

The sky was getting darker and darker. Now the raindrops I had felt at the start got heavier. Thunder rumbled in the distance. We moved closer to Inquisitor, jumped fence number 20 and looked up the hill toward the final two fences and the finish. I heard a ripping sound, as though the sky was being torn apart. Suddenly, a flash of light hit one of the trees lining the course.

LIGHTNING!

I forgot about Dee, Inquisitor and the race. I bolted, heading toward the tarmac road bordering the course. Inquisitor and Abracadabra stayed straight, heading up the hill toward the water fence and the finish. Stumbling in the rough, uneven ground, I crashed through the tall grass, almost falling.

In my mind a jumble of images played out. My mother silhouetted against the sky while lightning reached down to strike her; the starting gate at Gulfstream Park; the man in the cowboy hat; and Rob's friend jeering as he held the cattle prod.

Then I heard Dee's voice, “Easy, my love, it's OK.”

She reached down and patted me, calmly and deliberately. I kept running, blind.

Then she began to sing in a clear thin voice, growing stronger with each stride, “Don't worry, about a thing, 'cause every little thing is gonna be alright.” She kept singing and patting me. As she sang, I heard voices and saw faces:

Speedy, singing to me the night of the storm, “Ah'm so in love with you.”

Beth, at the auction, “This one is special. He has the ‘look of eagles.'”

Bob, “I hope that you finally get your chance for greatness.”

Yuri, “This isn't a horse. This is a dream, a poem — out of a legend.”

Michelle, “He's the smartest and most athletic horse I've ever sat on.”

Oakley, “You are the most incredible horse I know.”

Paddy, “Nevah give in, nevah, nevah, nevah.”

Princess Ayesha, “Raja, you are my only true friend.”

Max, “Of all of us, you're the one who will really make a mark.”

And my mother, “You have greatness in you. Always remember that.”

Suddenly, I took a deep breath and looked up, as though waking from a dream.

Dee felt it. “Good boy. Let's go finish the race.”

She turned me and pointed up the hill, toward Inquisitor and Abracadabra, who were heading to the water fence, 30 lengths ahead of us. The finish was half a mile away and by now it was raining hard. Dee took a stronger hold and gave me a kick. All of my fears disappeared as I stared up the hill. Both Dee and I knew what to do.

I exploded forward in a giant surge, ignited by something nameless, something more powerful than fear. Then I turned on the afterburners.

Faster, FASTER!

Everything melted away except the path ahead. No past, no future, only the present existed. I put my head down and went as fast as I could. All I could hear was the wind rushing past my ears and the sound of my hooves pounding out their mighty rhythm. All I could feel was the strength of my rippling muscles and powerful legs working together in perfect harmony.

Faster, FASTER!

Dee grabbed onto my mane and tucked her face close to my neck as we roared up the hill. We blended into one being, focused on going forward and going fast, the ultimate speed machine. Devouring the ground as if we were flying over it, we rapidly closed the gap between us and the other horses.

Faster, FASTER!

Dee sat still, squeezed her legs and jammed her heels down for the water fence. We flew over it without slowing, barely noticing it. We passed Abracadabra. Inquisitor had cleared the last fence and was heading up the stretch, alone, ten lengths ahead.

Faster, FASTER!

I kept running, digging deeper into the muddy ground. We met the last fence perfectly, jumping in a giant, powerful leap, gaining ground. We approached the stretch with the crowd lining each side of the finish. A blur of faces turned toward us, screaming and cheering in a tumultuous frenzy. “Come on, Raja, come on!”

Now I could hear the announcer, “And here comes Raja. Inquisitor leading by six lengths, but Raja is coming on strong. RAJA! Closing in, showing an incredible display of speed. Ladies and gentlemen, this is a race for the history books. Inquisitor is still in the lead, but Raja is gaining ground. Can he make it?”

Dee held on tight and concentrated on staying with me as we flamed up the stretch. I didn't need any urging. My body was running on instinct now, generations of speed and athletic ability distilled into this moment.

“Come on, Raja, come on!”

Now we were five lengths behind, now four.

It was a long uphill finish. The delirious energy of the crowd embraced me, drawing me forward.

“Come on Raja, come on!”

I dug deeper still.

It was a tough slog through the deep, sticky ground. I thought of Max beating Annapurna in the mud at the Belmont Stakes.

Never, ever, ever, ever give in.

We drew alongside Inquisitor, stirrups clanking and sweat mingling. Jed turned to Dee and snarled again,

“I'm warning you, little girl.”

I looked Inquisitor in the eye and then drove past him in a final burst of power, splattering him with mud as we went under the wire.

“It's Raja! Raja, in hand and in command. Raja has won the Maryland Hunt Cup! Inquisitor is second, Abracadabra, finishing third.”

The crowd went wild. As we pulled up and walked back to the finish, Tricia and Paddy and the boys ran up to us, hugging me. Dee threw her arms around me before dismounting, taking the saddle and lead pad off my back and walking toward the scales to weigh in. She was shaking and crying as everyone crowded around us. I was a little dazed myself.

I just won the Maryland Hunt Cup!

Finally, I won something big. It felt wonderful — strangely calming, as if the victory had always existed and had been waiting for me.

“Your mother would be so proud of you. I'm so proud of you,” exclaimed Dee's father, hugging her and helping to take off her helmet.

Paddy kept me walking. “Raja, you did it! You won! I knew you could.”

Photographers flashed their cameras in the grey light and soggy rain and I didn't notice the flashes. A bolt of lightning struck a tree in the distance and I didn't care.

Lightning didn't matter anymore.

We were sharing — savoring — the sweet victory.

Dee came back to give me another hug as Tricia kept me walking. “Raja, you are the best horse in the world.” She could barely speak through her tears of joy.

“Watch your back, coming through!” a shout rose up.

I looked up to see Sam, Wyatt and the Murphy boys carrying a bucket of water.

Splash!

They poured it over a surprised Dee, laughing. “It's a tradition. You get wet when you win your first NSA-sanctioned race,” grinned Wyatt, “I think we cleaned some of the mud off. Hey, don't forget to weigh in.”

At the stable area after the race, it was like the best dream I could ever have. All of my old friends I had glimpsed before the race when I was walking around the paddock came to congratulate me.

“Raja, you finally had your chance. I knew you were headed for greatness!” exclaimed Bob as he patted me.