The Runaway Racehorse (4 page)

CHAPTER 6

“Okay, gang, let’s go grab our seats,” Forest said.

To get to Forest’s private box, they had to climb up three flights of stairs. Throngs of people filled the grandstand. Music was playing, and everyone seemed to be having a good time.

The viewing box had a row of seats under a little roof. On both sides were other private boxes. Straight ahead was a perfect view of the starting gate and oval racetrack.

“How long is the race?” Josh asked.

“Twice around the track,” Forest said.

A stack of race programs was on one seat. Forest handed them out. “Whirlaway’s on page two,” he said.

The kids quickly checked and found Whirlaway’s name. Sunny was listed as Whirlaway’s jockey.

“This is so exciting!” Ruth Rose said. She set her camera on the floor under her chair.

A waiter wearing a white jacket came and took their lunch order. They made it simple for him: five cheeseburgers, five lemonades.

“Where do the horses end up?” Josh asked.

“At the finish line,” Uncle Warren said, “down there behind the starting gate.”

The waiter brought their food. As they ate, they watched a group of horses and their riders come out onto
the track. Some of the horses were bucking and prancing. The jockeys were outfitted in bright colors. Each rider wore goggles like Sunny’s.

The horses were white, gray black, and several shades of brown. One was a golden palomino.

Down below the owners’ boxes, people were lined up along the track fence. They began cheering when they saw the horses at the starting gate.

Suddenly a man’s voice came over the speakers. “GOOD AFTERNOON, LADIES AND GENTLEMEN!” he cried. “THE FIRST RACE IS ABOUT TO BEGIN!” While he called out the names of the horses and jockeys, the riders moved their horses up to the starting gate.

Then a loud bell sounded, and the horses burst onto the track. The jockeys stood in the stirrups, their heads bent low over the horses’ necks.

The crowd shouted and cheered. Even above the noise, the kids could hear the thunder of the horses’ hooves on the track. Clumps of dirt flew into the air behind each horse.

“AND IT’S MERRY MARY IN THE LEAD!” the announcer exclaimed. “STARBURST IS A LENGTH BEHIND! CRANBERRY SAUCE IS THIRD!”

Then it was over. A white horse had rocketed across the finish line first.

“AND IT’S MERRY MARY BY HALF A LENGTH!” yelled the announcer.

As the kids watched, the jockey pranced Merry Mary to the winner’s circle. A woman wearing a dress and a wide hat presented the jockey with a trophy. A man in a suit beamed and posed for a picture. “That’s the horse’s owner,” Forest informed the kids.

“Is our race next?” Dink asked, checking his program.

“Yes, in just a few minutes,” Forest’ said. He pointed to the track. “The horses are coming out already.”

The three kids stood up.

“Which one is Whirlaway?” Ruth Rose said, getting her camera ready. “There are a lot of dark horses with white marks on their foreheads.”

Forest pointed over her shoulder. “In front of the white horse,” he said. “See Sunny’s yellow hat? And you can see the big twenty-one on Whirlaway’s saddle blanket.”

The horses and riders approached the starting gate. When the announcer shouted, “NUMBER TWENTY-ONE IS WHIRLAWAY, RIDDEN BY SUNNY FIELDS!” Dink, Josh, and Ruth Rose cheered. Ruth Rose snapped a picture. Forest put two fingers in his mouth and whistled.

Then the announcer’s voice boomed over the loudspeakers. “NOW THE SECOND RACE! AN EVEN DOZEN BEAUTIES OUT THERE!”

And then the starting bell sounded, and the race was on. The crowd began yelling, but didn’t drown out the announcer’s voice.

“WHAT A SIGHT, FOLKS! FANCY PANTS IS OUT FRONT. HIGH FIVE IS NEXT! HERE COMES PRETTY BALLOON ON THE OUTSIDE! AND LOOK AT THIS. DANCER IS SNEAKING UP ON PRETTY BALLOON. HE’S PASSING HIGH FIVE. DANCER IS IN THE LEAD!”

Dink, Josh, and Ruth Rose were on their feet. They jumped and yelled, “Come on, Whirlaway!”

But Whirlaway was nowhere near the front. Number 21 was second to last as the horses barreled toward the finish line.

By the time the race was over, Whirlaway had fallen back even more. He came in dead last.

The kids sat down, disappointed. Forest stared at the racetrack.

“What happened?” Uncle Warren said.

Forest shook his head. “Whirlaway has never run so badly,” he said. “There’s something wrong!”

CHAPTER 7

“Well, he tried,” Uncle Warren said, laying his hand on Forest’s shoulder.

“I know I can’t expect Whirlaway to win every race,” Forest agreed. “But he’s never run this poorly!”

“Can we go see him?” Dink asked.

“Sure,” Forest said, checking his watch. “Meet us back here in about fifteen minutes, okay?”

The kids clambered down the grandstand steps and ran toward the barns. They entered barn E and walked past curious horses peering from stalls.

“There’s Whirlaway,” Josh said, pointing. The horse, slick with sweat, was tied outside stall 21. Sunny was wiping him down with towels.

Sunny looked up and nodded at the kids.

“I’m sorry you didn’t win,” Ruth Rose said.

“Not as sorry as I am,” Sunny muttered. Her outfit was filthy. She had removed her helmet, and her hair hung down, damp and straggly. Where her goggles had been, her face was clean. The rest was smeared with sweat and track grime. Her once shiny black boots were now brown with dust.

Sunny knelt down and began unwinding the tape from Whirlaway’s legs. The tape was grimy.

Sunny shook her head as she worked. “Whirlaway was running like a different horse,” she said.

She walked away to find a trash can for the soiled tapes, leaving Whirlaway tied to his stall.

“Maybe Whirlaway was just tired,” Dink said.

“Maybe,” Ruth Rose agreed. “But jockeys can make horses go slower.”

Josh looked at Ruth Rose. “You think Sunny made Whirlaway lose the race?”

Ruth Rose shrugged. “I don’t know.”

Sunny came back and untied Whirlaway. She had to tug him up the ramp. He rolled his eyes as she walked him into the trailer.

Sunny closed and latched the trailer door. Without saying a word, she climbed into the cab and drove away.

“Something weird is definitely going on between Whirlaway and Sunny,” Ruth Rose said.

“Whirlaway might just be having a bad day,” Dink said.

Ruth Rose looked at her watch.

“We’d better get back,” she said.

They started walking toward the viewing stands. Dink noticed a small group of people gathered around a dark horse and its rider. “There’s the winner,” he said.

“Yeah, Dancer,” said Josh.

“I want to get a picture,” Ruth Rose said. The kids walked to the winner’s circle. They wiggled through the crowd until they were standing next to Dancer.

Dancer’s chest and legs were sweaty. The white tape that covered his ankles was dirty. The jockey was dirty, too. He smiled as people took pictures.

A man wearing a cowboy hat and dark glasses reached up and shook the jockey’s hand. “Well done, Andy,” he said.

“Piece of cake, Mr. Bee,” the jockey answered.

“Guys, move closer,” Ruth Rose said. “I want to get a picture of you and Dancer.”

Dink and Josh stepped over and stood in front of Dancer. Josh giggled when the horse butted him gently in the back.

The jockey flicked the reins, and Dancer put his head between Dink’s and Josh’s shoulders.

Ruth Rose snapped the picture. Her camera made a whirring noise, letting her know that the roll of film had run out.

Dink looked at his watch. “Come on, guys. They’re waiting for us.”

They hurried away and found Forest and Uncle Warren in the viewing box.

“How does Whirlaway look?” Forest asked.

“Tired,” Josh said. “Sunny loaded him and they took off.”

“I guess we’d better leave, too,” Forest said. They headed for the parking lot.

Dink, Josh, and Ruth Rose walked behind Forest and Uncle Warren.

Ruth Rose held up her camera. “I can’t wait to get my film developed,” she whispered. “I think that last picture is a
big
clue!”