Taking Chances: Kayla's Chance

At the statement, Bo froze. He straightened his shoulders and turned to face Mr. Rosery. In a tone dripping ice he said, “I don’t go by that name anymore.”
I looked at Bo, then Mr. Rosery, blinked and did it again. I was surprised I hadn’t noticed the similarities before. Bo and Mr. Rosery were about the same height with similar builds. Their facial features weren’t exactly the same, but there was something they shared that gave away that they were related. Their eyes, I realized. They had the same eye shape and there was only a shade’s difference in the color.
“Well no wonder that social worker couldn’t find you then. They were looking for a Bowen Athens in California.” A sudden change occurred in Mr. Rosery’s expression and his face hardened. “I hope you haven’t come to beg for money.”
“I wouldn’t take money from you if my life depended on it,” Bo snarled and I saw his hands clench into fists.
“That pride will get the best of you some day. Just like Andrea-”
He was cut off when Bo shrugged off the hand I still had on his arm and grabbed Mr. Rosery by the lapels of his Italian suit and slammed him against a wall. “You aren’t even fit to kiss her boots let alone say her name.”
“Easy now son. You don’t want-”
“And you lost the right to call me son whey you gave the order to remove the feeding tube.”
“Alright, take it easy.” I could tell Mr. Rosery was getting nervous by the way his voice was beginning to shake. “Now I hate to speak ill of the dead but you’ll have to face it. You’re mother was a slu-”
Bo drew back a fist. Becky screamed. Mik and I jumped on Bo and wrestled him away from Mr. Rosery.
“Let me go damn it!” Bo raged.
“Easy Bo,” I said, trying to keep my own voice calm. “He’s not worth it.”
“He’s not worth the bullet it would take to blow him to hell but that doesn’t mean he can talk about my mother like that!”
“We could sue you for assault!” Becky shouted.
I made sure Mik had ahold of Bo before I stalked over to Becky who backed rapidly until the wall stopped her. I pointed a finger at her powdered nose. “Watch your mouth. Being the backside brat isn’t as bad as being the backside bitch. And in that outfit, people may start making some offers if you’re running low on money,” I said mockingly. I turned, making sure my boots kicked dirt on her open-toed high-heels and walked back over to join Mik and Bo.
At first I thought Bo was shaking with anger. But one look in his eyes reflected the remains of grief for losing his mother so suddenly and violently and not having anyone to turn to.
I brushed Mik’s arms aside and wrapped mine around Bo again. As when he’d first told me of his mother’s death, at first he was rigid. After a few seconds, when Mr. Rosery and Becky disappeared, his body began to relax. They curled around me, hesitantly at first, then hugging me so tightly I could barely breathe. But I didn’t pull away. I felt like this boy had had few hugs in the last few years and he needed them.

The morning of Centerfold’s race dawned clear and sunny. I exercised horses in the morning and then went to get dressed for the first race of my career.
The saddling paddock looked much different through my eyes as a jockey. People looked at me differently too. I was scrutinized more closely now by the trainers, the crowd, and especially the other jockeys.
The race was an allowance race of all two-year-olds. Centerfold was going in as the 60-1 long shot. The Daily Racing Forum accounted this to his past performances and his jockey’s inexperience. I’d told Bo to put $10 on Centerfold for me.
My father boosted me into the saddle when Jaime stopped Centerfold in front of us.
“Kick butt,” he said, smiling.
“I’ll try,” I said.
Jaime led us towards the track and handed the colt off to an outrider. When we hit the track, the colt paused and pawed the surface.
The outrider started tugging on the colt’s lead.
“Hold on a second,” I cautioned as the colt pawed the dirt with his front hooves. When he was satisfied, he walked on calmly.
“Odd little quirk that,” the outrider commented.
I kept the colt on a loose rein as we warmed up and listened with half an ear to the announcer. “…and then we have Centerfold in his third start going in as the long shot with first time rider Kayla McLochland. The colt will go off at sixty to one.”
“And when we win you’ll have made me six hundred bucks,” I told the colt as we walked towards the starting gate.
Of a field of nice, we’d pulled the three slot. The first two colts loaded without a problem. To my dismay, Centerfold balked. Two attendants approached the colt.
“Hold on,” I said for the second time that day. “Let me try to get him in alone.” I shifted my weight forward and clucked with my tongue. “Come on boy.” The colt hesitated for another moment before stepping calmly into the shoot.”
Two other horses had problems getting into the gate. It seemed like forever before one of the attendants called, “one back!” signaling there was only one more horse to load.
I wrapped my fingers through Centerfold’s black mane. The last horse loaded and for a moment, there was silence. Then the gates sprang open and Centerfold charged out.
For the first few strides, Centerfold led the pack. I let him have his head and he slowed and we dropped back. Eight other colts passed us and the horse in front of us pulled ahead by a length. Then another as the field pounded down the backstretch.
“As they come into the first turn it’s Ransacked followed by Desert Diver and Easy Treasure. Back a length is Swift Appeal, Barbary, Maxed Out, Esperanzo and Wishful with Centerfold two lengths off the pack.
And falling back further. Centerfold seemed uninterested. It struck me as odd because during his workouts he hated being behind other horses. Now we trailed Wishful by four lengths. Hoping that my father was right and he would run for me, I started gathering my reins as the first horses hit the last and only turn in the race. The race was only six furlongs: as most two-year-old races were.
“As the horses hit the turn it’s-Centerfold being pulled up. Jockey Kayla McLochland is slowing the colt now trailing by five lengths. Maxed Out picking off horses pulling up behind Easy Treasure. Wishful passing Barbary on the inside. Desert Diver and Easy Treasure moving even with Ransacked. Centerfold now back by six lengths.
Centerfold was getting agitated. He tossed his head when I took a firm hold on his mouth. When I collected another inch, his mouth slammed against the bit and I smiled. He started taking the longer strides and shook his head in an attempt to dislodge me. The front horses were at the top of the turn now and I grabbed mane.
I crouched low over the colt’s black mane and let out an inch. The colt rocketed forward, still straining against the bit as we charged towards the other colts.
“And with three furlongs left it’s Desert Diver and Easy Treasure neck-and-neck. Ransacked is tiring. Maxed Out coming up on the outside, Wishful and Barbary moving on Ransacked. Swift Appeal starting to make his move, Experanzo’s out of it-and here comes Centerfold with a late charge. This colt’s flying!”
We charged past Esperanzo and Swift Appeal on the inside, Centerfold fighting for more. I let out a little and we flew around Ransacked, then Wishful and Barbary.
“I can’t believe I’m seeing this! Centerfold flying up on the leaders. He’s picking off these other colts like they’re standing still!”
We drew even with Easy Treasure whom was still head-to-head with Desert Diver. I only caught a glimpse of the other jockeys’ silks before I opened Centerfold up, letting out another inch of rein, and bounded ahead of the other horses and started drawing away.
“And under the wire it’s Centerfold! A good twelve lengths off the leaders coming into the turn and he wins by a length under a hand ride by Kayla McLochland.”
I knew the colt knew he’d won. When I released my hold on him, he slowed to a canter and flicked his head, followed by a victory buck that nearly unseated me.
“Easy. What a good boy,” I crooned, stroking the colt’s muscular neck. He snorted and bobbed his head. We slowed to a trot and an outrider; the same one that had led us onto the track, came to collect us.
“That was exciting,” he commented as he led us towards the winner’s circle.
“Tell me about it.”

“I’d like to propose a toast,” Mik said that night when we’d all sat down to dinner at the restaurant I had chosen. “To Kayla for her first win. And to Centerfold for his.”
“To Kayla and Centerfold,” everyone at the table agreed.
My parents and Luke touched champagne glasses. Mik, Bo, and I touched soda glasses.
“What’s he going for next?” Luke asked.
“There’s a grade 3 race for two-year-olds at Saratoga in three weeks. With his performance today, I think he’s ready.
The question, I thought to myself, was his jockey ready?

“You did good.”
“No, Centerfold did good,” I contradicted, kicking a pebble down the shedrow.
“You’re too hard on yourself. He didn’t run well for anyone else.”
“Ran fine for you.”
Bo shrugged. “Yeah once. I just think he caught a look at the other horses and was tiring of being left behind.”
“In his first two races he could have cared less about the other horses.”
“He’s an odd horse.”
“Be that as it may-” I was cut off when Bo covered my mouth with his hand. We both stopped walking behind the shedrows where we were doing a final night check even though there was a groom watching out for the horses.
“Why don’t you just admit that he’s a great horse and you’re a good rider?”
He released my mouth. “But-” This time his attempt to silence me worked much more efficiently. He bent his head and settled his lips over mine. And what I’d been about to say, hell what we were even talking about, flew right out of my mind.
He broke the connection what seemed like and eternity later even though it probably only been seconds. To my humiliation, my lips wanted to follow and my whole body titled forward in an attempt to renew the link.
“That was a little more effective than just my hand,” he said. “I’ll have to remember that.”
I blinked to clear my vision. Bo was smiling. I felt my cheeks heat and I glared at him. “Arrogant,” I muttered.
“Maybe. You would be too if my eyes looked like yours did a second ago.”
I blinked again. “What the hell is that suppose to mean?” I demanded.
“A girl doesn’t get that dazed, starry-eyed look form much. In my experience, the only things that cause it are chocolate and my kissing skills.”
I felt my cheeks growing warmer and I searched desperately for a comeback. Before I could, he took my hand and continued walking.
“And by your speechlessness I’m going to assume I’m even a little better than chocolate.”

The next evening I was trying to bring in Silver and Risky at the same time. Risky wanted to get to her stall for her grain and Silver was kicking up her heels and tugging back towards the paddock.
“This is going to be so much easier when we wean you,” I muttered as the filly spooked at a grass hopper that flew out of the grass.
“Here I’ll take her,” Mik said, taking Risky’s lead from my hand.
“Thanks,” I said gratefully.
“Well I have an ulterior motive.”
“That sounds dangerous.”
“I just want to talk to you.”
“About?”
He hesitated and said slowly as we continued towards the barn, “what’s going on with you and Bo?”
I paused, taken by surprise. “What do you mean?” was the first response that escaped my mouth.
“Don’t play dumb with me Kay. You guys have been spending a lot of time together…”
“Are you jealous?” I teased, trying to lighten the suddenly tense atmosphere.
He cracked a smile. “You wish. But I’m more…worried. I already had the ‘you hurt my sister I cut off your favorite appendage’ talk with Bo.”
I punched him in the shoulder. “Idiot.”
“Hey I had the same talk with Damion.”
“Maybe that’s why he never wanted to hand out around you. You were worse than my father.”
“Your father never knew how bad Damion was.”
I laughed. “And you’d better not tell him. But Bo’s more mature.”
“That’s what I’m worried about,” he muttered as we entered the barn.
I paused to let Silver’s eyes adjust to the dimmer light and to try to decipher that last statement. “What do you mean?” I asked finally and followed him down the aisle.
He let Risky into her stall and the mare dove for her feed bucket. I let Silver in behind he rand shut the stall.
“You know what I mean.”
“Enlighten me.”
“He’s a teenage boy. You know that one thing that’s always on their minds…”
“And what are you a teenage duck?”
He smiled. “I’m telling you this because I am a teenage boy and I know what he’s thinking.”
“Bo’s a year older than you.”
“Oh great.”
I laughed. “Thanks for the warning. In a really weird way it feels good to know that you care enough to threaten a friend on my behalf. But I think for the most part I can trust Bo-whatever’s happening between us.”